Lt. Robert O’Callahan: Head of his class and all class
It’s been written countless times that only the good die young. I never gave it much credence. But it’s in the Bible. And Shakespeare wrote it countless times. It was said about James Dean and Buddy Holly. Billy Joel had a gigantic hit with it. Only the good die young.
Hogwash, I thought. Complete garbage. There have been so many good-natured people who enjoyed long and fruitful lives. There are some good who die old as well. What in the world was Shakespeare thinking? What did Billy Joel mean? It’s not true. I didn’t accept it.
Not to mention, I’ve known many nasty people who died young; vicious killers, mean, terrible rotten creatures. The adage didn’t apply for me. Age had no correlation with mortality.
Until I read the obituaries last Friday morning and I saw that my long-time friend, Bobby O’Callahan, was killed in an automobile accident. Lt. Robert O’Callahan of the Jersey City Police Department was just 43 years old.
Bobby O’Callahan, known as "Okie" to his friends and fellow officers, was simply the nicest human being the Lord has ever placed on the planet. He had no peers in nicety. None.
Okie went out of his way to be a good, pleasant, helpful soul to practically everyone he ever met, regardless if he knew you or not – in or out of uniform. During his funeral Mass last Monday, his brothers, Brian and Kevin, told stories of how he would constantly stop to help an unknown person stuck on the side of the road, and help fix a flat tire. That’s the way he was.
And I don’t think I can ever recall, in some 30-plus years of knowing Bobby, a day where he didn’t have a smile on his face. He was so warm and happy all the time. Maybe he was different alone. But whenever I saw him, he was a joy that I loved to be around.
If you needed five dollars, he would be the first one to reach into his pocket. If you needed someone to move the heaviest piece of furniture in your home, he’d be the first one to volunteer. If you needed a ride home or a ride to the airport, he’d be more than willing – at all hours of the night.
Dependable and faithful? Understatements. He was the most reliable person on the Jersey City police force. Other police officers constantly called upon his services. He was highly decorated for his professionalism on the job and was commended several times for actually helping to save the lives of fellow officers.
Loyal? To the utmost degree. If someone dared say something derogatory about anyone Bobby knew, he was the first to defend that person, regardless of the circumstance. Some people may call it blind faith. I tend to think of it as undying loyalty.
And believe me, there were many times that I was the subject of that devotion, especially when highly-opinionated people tried to damage my reputation with their words. He would steadfastly defend my stand on whatever article I wrote, because he truly believed in anything I did, said or wrote. I rarely received such support, even from my closest friends or members of my family.
His brother, Kevin, said last Monday that there was a tree in his yard that provided shade in the summer, displayed strength all year, was tall and strong and protected the house. Of course, it was an oak tree – much like his deceased brother’s nickname.
And yes, Bobby O’Callahan was as strong and as solid and as dependable as the biggest oak tree. He would never waver in the wind, never falter when needed. His roots were solidly planted in Jersey City, in the Greenville section, even when he moved his wonderful wife, Cathy, and their two children to Roselle Park a few years ago. He was still Jersey City through and through, working and serving the city where he was born and raised.
Words cannot even begin to express the sorrow and pain I’ve felt since reading that obituary last week. There were obviously countless others who felt the same pain, because there was an endless line of mourners paying respects at McLaughlin’s Funeral Home on Journal Square for hours throughout the weekend. The line actually went out the door and was 90 minutes in length. That’s how many people adored Bobby O’Callahan as much as I did.
I’ll never forget the countless times that he looked after my mother and made sure she crossed Kennedy Boulevard safely. Or the times that we spent just laughing over a beer, recalling an episode of "The Honeymooners" or "The Odd Couple." Or the time we spent talking about sports, the times he bragged about the basketball prowess of his wife, who was a standout player at St. Anthony and the Final Four team from Montclair State, or how well his two children, daughter Erin and son Sean, were progressing as athletes.
"They got all of Cathy’s athletic skills," he said.
I sort of already knew that.
To Cathy, Sean and Erin, I hope that my words serve as a fitting tribute to a true giant, the Oak Tree of Greenville. He will be sorely missed.