Ninety-Six years ago today, December 9, 1921, my father, Jack Conway, was born to Margaret Nelson and Timothy Joseph Conway. He was a man of few words who loved his wife, Helen, his family, his Church and his country.

In my book, A Man of Few Words: Remembering Jack Conway, I offer the following reflections:

At my sister Anne’s wedding reception in 1979, my father was asked to propose a toast. He began by saying, “I am a man of few words and seven children.” I was struck by the simple power of his words. It was the first, and only, time I heard him speak in public, and it meant a lot to me to hear him sum up who he was in this simple phrase—“a man of few words and seven children.”

There were many other things he might have said. He was an attorney, an ardent Republican and a veteran of World War II. He was also a member of a large, prominent family in Cleveland, Ohio, whose father had been a charismatic, highly successful supermarket executive and civic leader. He was Irish-American and a devout Catholic. He played sports (football, hockey and baseball) in high school and during his early college years before he enlisted in the Army. He was even offered a football scholarship to Harvard University, but his father told him to decline it. “We can afford it,” my grandfather said. “There are many other deserving students who can’t.” He remained a passionate sports enthusiast until the day he died at age 93.

But John L. (Jack) Conway described himself as a man of few words and seven children. I don’t know whether he gave much thought to it. He probably didn’t even know he would be asked to stand up and say something that night. My guess is that when he opened his mouth to begin the toast, “I am a man of few words and seven children” is what came out—spontaneously and from the heart.

For Jack Conway, “a man of few words” meant a doer not a talker. It meant someone who was simple, straightforward and a man of his word. And that’s what he was—a man of integrity who said what he meant and who stood up for what he believed. Jack Conway saw himself as a man who didn’t talk much, but who quietly and consistently did what he knew was right.

To be the father of seven children was a source of genuine pride for him. As my sister Anne said in her eulogy, “he loved each of his children deeply and unconditionally.” And, “he was madly in love with our mother for close to 70 years.”

Jack Conway was a family man first and foremost. His parents, Margaret and Tim Conway, instilled that in him from his earliest days. He loved and respected his parents—and his two sisters and ten brothers—deeply and unconditionally, so it was natural for him to offer that same love and devotion to Helen, his wife of 50 years, and to each of us, his seven children. 

Happy Birthday, Dad. We love you and we miss you!