I never met James T. Mullaney, Jr., my maternal grandfather — or ‘Grampy,’ as my family affectionately calls him. He passed away on Father’s Day, June 15, 1986, six years before I was born.
Yet his practical, sacrificial faith — rooted in duty to his country, family, and those in need — has not only shaped my spiritual journey, but it also stands as a model of civility in an age often marked by inaction and contempt for others.
Born on Dec. 28, 1928, in Leominster, Ma., my Grampy grew up in an Irish-Catholic family with his parents, James T. Sr. and...