Photo: Blue & White

Dr. Patrick Murphy ’60

Graduate of St. Ann’s / Archbishop Molloy High School
Educator, Mentor, Son, Brother, Uncle, and Great Uncle

Word came to us on Saturday that Dr. Patrick Anthony Murphy passed away. The family requested that the funeral be held at Molloy. Upon our return to school on Tuesday, Brother Roy George announced the news to the students and school was officially closed on Wednesday for the Mass. More than 300 people came together in the Curran Gymnasium for this memorial.

The full measure of a man, an old saying goes, “is not found in the man himself but rather in the way he inspires accomplishments in the people around him”. In this light Patrick Murphy was a very large man indeed — some would even say larger than life. In his reminiscences after the Mass today, Brother James Norton commented on the work done in formal and informal counseling sessions. His ability to listen and his constant self-editing in pursuit of a more complete answer were gifts known by many of his students, peers, family and friends. He was the consummate “IM’er” — sometimes requiring 3-4-5 and even 6 e-mails to complete his thoughts about you or on any given topic.

The SMILE program was a major part of Dr. Murphy’s work. He and all members of the Counseling Department created a place within Molloy for students to explore the questions that have challenged teens throughout time. As we come out of this “Year of the Marist Educator’ let us remember the words of the founder of the Marist Brothers — “First you must love them”. In this regard, Dr. Murphy was a spiritual leader among the lay faculty at Molloy.

During his tenure at Molloy approximately 15,500 students came in contact with him as a member of the faculty - some for an hour some for what may have seemed endless hours. Each, I am certain, walked away from the encounter a better person for the time spent in his presence. After the Mass I visited with Tom Morgan ’96 and Marc Ridwanto ’97. It is interesting to note that though these two Stanners shared the halls together one year apart, they never met. But, each had a deep respect for Dr. Murphy and would not let this day pass without paying that debt of gratitude. Tom drove in from PA, and Marc heard the news upon his return from Tokyo and went from the airport to the wake. Jim Smith ’73 flew in from FL as Stanners and family came in from all parts of the world to celebrate his life.

There were many poignant moments in the day, but none struck me as strongly as the arrival of Mrs. Murphy. She arrived in an ambulance as she had broken her hip in a fall on the way to visit with Pat recently. To see her wheeled in to attend this Mass was a true testament to the phrase, “a mother’s love”. Enough said.

Photo: Blue & White

Jim Smith wrote some reflections about life with Pat which I will share with you here.

In the last year of the decade that was the Sixty’s, great fortune smiled down upon me. I somehow became associated with Dr. Patrick Murphy, school guidance counselor, clinical psychologist, teacher, mentor and all around great guy. His Mom worked at the school and I met his Dad, onsite, at the “family business” in the early 1970’s.

As fate would have it, our lives became inexorably intertwined. Over the years somehow, inexplicably, his family members came into my life from the weirdest and most unexpected of angles. One brother (unbeknownst to me) was a key decision maker at a coveted account back in my Car Rental days. Another brother (also off my radar) was firmly ensconced as “THE sales guy’ at a company that was the largest revenue generator for a company I subsequently joined in late 1987 and remained for 11 years.

Dr. Pat Murphy introduced me to Dr. Albert Ellis when I was 17 and undertaking a leadership role in Molloy’s vanguard Peer Group Counseling Program. I studied with Dr Ellis, sporadically, for a number of years, and continue to re-visit his body of work. To a large extent, this body of work helps to sustain some personal “value pillars”.

Pat’s last email to me came on April 10th, less than a month prior to undergoing the surgery that he ultimately would not survive.

His email congratulated me on the launch of my website. He indicated that both “he and Leo” were proud of me. (Leo … his picture sits in a frame, on my desk, looking over my shoulder … Leo … the bear of a man infamous as Pat’s partner in crime and Peer Group Counseling co-conspirator; a fellow shaman at Molloy … and a massive “impact player” in my life) … I guess Leo, who passed away a few years back, must have given Pat the “head’s up” that Pat was in Heaven’s “on deck circle”.

The lessons Pat and Leo imparted have lasted, to this point, a lifetime (and counting).

Pat never mentioned his impending May surgery in his April 10 correspondence. He never complained; at least not to me. He had been battling intestinal disorders for decades and was the recipient of a permanent colostomy over 10 years ago. He never mentioned his condition; what I learned, I learned from others.

My admiration for the man’s humanity and dignity grew to new heights as the years passed. Back in 1973, as I was winding down a most memorable 4 year run through the halls of AMHS, deeper respect for a man hardly seemed fathomable, much less possible.

Pat died at 5:35am this morning. I started emailing Pat’s nephew, John, at 4:19 this morning. For some unknown reason, last night resulted in an extremely rare bout of unsettled sleep. I looked at my Blackberry at 4:15am (something I religiously refuse to entertain prior to 6am). There was an email from John time-stamped at 4:03.

Photo: Blue & White

There’s rarely such a coincidence in my world.

Attempting to describe the impact Pat, Leo and Ellis made in my life would be akin to pissing in the ocean in an attempt to fill it. Grammatically, physically and emotionally impossible. Political correctness (or lack thereof) not withstanding.

In the words of Kurt Vonnegut Jr: “We are what we only pretend to be. So we must be careful about what we pretend to be”.

so it goes…

Non Scolae Sed Vitae
Jim Smith, CTIE ’73