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January 17, 2025
"I'm still here you sonsabitches."
That was a favorite line from a friend of mine named Gene Wooden.
Gene would have turned 98 this April.
I will share where that line came from shortly but first let me introduce you to Gene.
I met Gene about fifteen years ago at our favorite neighborhood Irish Pub - the late, great O'Faolains in Sterling, VA.
He was sitting by himself at the bar, so I sat down next to him and introduced myself.
At one point I asked him what he was drinking and he responded "Ishka baha" - which is Irish for "water of life".
He was drinking Jameson Irish Whiskey.
Gene was born in 1927, which is the same year as my Dad so it was great to talk to someone who shared many of the same experiences.
Plus, he was a cool guy.
I mean his grandfather actually fought in the Civil War - and he had the obituary in his wallet to prove it.
So, with Gene, you could sit at the bar and have a beer with someone - who had met someone who fought in the Civil War.
How cool is that?
When I first met him he had recently lost his wife Ellie, the love of his life, and wasn't sure what he was going to do.
One evening he told me that at some point after Ellie died, he had considered selling his house and moving to the Old Soldiers Home in West Virginia.
Then, he paused for a moment, looked at me and said, "You know what though, if I had done that I would probably be dead by now."
He told me numerous times how much he enjoyed being around young people like the ones he met at the Pub.
Gene lived a pretty amazing life and was happy to share tales of his adventures to anyone who was willing to listen.
Once I told him I thought he was a "Raconteur"
A scowl appeared on his face as he looked at me for a moment and said - 'What did you just call me?'"
When I explained that a raconteur is - someone who is skilled at telling stories, especially amusing or interesting ones - he smiled and said "Yeah, I guess I am."
Gene was a member of the Greatest Generation.
He volunteered to serve in the Navy in 1944 and was hoping to spend the remainder of World War II on a ship.
As fate would have it, he was transferred to the Army in early 1945 in preparation for the invasion of Japan.
Fortunately for Gene, that never happened, and he was a big fan of Harry Truman for the rest of his life.
After the war he got a job as a watchmaker
Over the years his expertise working with all sorts of tiny mechanisms and lenses eventually led to a job working on an early version of Night Vision Technology.
Somehow, this line of business led to a business trip to Libya in the 1980's where he actually got to meet Muammar Gaddafi.
Gene was not a fan.
Throughout his life, Gene wrote poems and love notes to his wife Ellie - and he kept every card or letter or scrap of paper that he had written on.
Eventually, he organized them and figured out a way to self-publish not one, but at least two collections of his writing.
His first book was titled "Thoughts of a Lifetime" and it was published in 2007.
I learned about this one night at the pub.
At the time, he was still driving himself to the pub in his big old Buick and in the trunk of the Buick he had boxes of his books.
Many evenings he would sit at the bar talking with a new friend and at some point during the discussion, he would tell them about being an author and his books.
He was so proud of this accomplishment.
Often, at the end of the night he would give them one of the books if he had one with him in the shoulder bag he carried or he would invite them to walk out to the car with him to get a copy.
He was such a nice guy and made friends easily.
Ok, now about that favorite phrase of his.
It happened a few weeks before his 90th birthday.
He went out to dinner with a bunch of people from the pub who were all younger than him.
To be fair though, at that time almost everyone on the planet was younger than him.
Anyway, they go out to dinner as a group, and he is having a great time.
Gene really enjoyed his dinner and then afterwards the conversation continued, and a lot of people are talking - but part of the group starts having their conversation in front of him - he felt they were talking past him.
So after a while he interrupts the group and says "Hey, you know - I'm still here you sonsabitches."
So that became a thing - "I'm still here you sonsabitches."
Every time I was at the pub when Gene was there I made it a point to stop by and tell him that I would see him again soon and point out that the reason was - because you're still here.
And he would always respond with - "I'm still here you sonsabitches."
And this even continued after he suffered a series of strokes in late 2019 and entered hospice care.
I tried to visit him often while he was in hospice, and we would sneak a can of Guinness or small bottle of Jameson Irish Whiskey into his room and mix it with the miracle thickening powder that would turn them into a Guinness or Jameson Slurpee.
When it was time to leave, I would lean over to say goodbye to him and I would say I'll see you soon and ask him if he knew why - and then I would tell him it was because he was still there.
And then you know, as banged up as he was from the strokes, as weak as he was, as his body was failing him, he would still summon up enough energy to growl back at me - "I'm still here you sonsabitches."
In the end, Gene's life was a testament to resilience, kindness, and a relentless spirit.
His body may have weakened, but his essence never wavered.
He remained the same generous, witty, and sharp man who always had a story to tell or a poem to share.
His phrase, "I'm still here, you sonsabitches," became more than just a saying-it was his declaration to the world, a reminder that despite the passing years, strokes, and the inevitable challenges of aging, his spirit refused to be diminished.
Even now, years after his passing, that spirit lives on in the hearts of those of us who knew him, in the stories we tell, and in the memories we hold.
Gene is still here, and he always will be, reminding us to live with heart, humor, and an unwavering love for life.
Sláinte!
