Forget Eddie Fisher . . .
dad already has big fan club

Robyn’s Hood
By Robyn McCloskey

For all you diehard Frank Sinatra fans, you may be aware that among the many songs "ol’ blue eyes" recorded was one entitled Somewhere In Your Heart. What you may not be aware of is that it originally was recorded by my father-in-law, William O’Keefe McCloskey — or Bill, as most everyone calls him.
Bill was born in Philadelphia in 1930, the youngest in a house full of boys. He was an intelligent, personable and athletic child. In 1947, along with countless others, Bill contracted the polio virus. This not only caused him to miss an entire year of school, but it also ended his promising athletic future. Not one to let circumstances get him down, he decided to pour his energies into a singing career.
He had a friend by the name of Russ Faith. Russ, well known to a generation of voice students in Northeast Philly, had written a song called Somewhere In Your Heart, and, as a favor, he asked my father-in-law to record it under his pseudonym, Bill Martel.
By this time, Bill had met, fallen in love with and married Barbara Meiris, the beautiful young woman who would become the mother of their eight children, one of whom I had the good fortune to marry. My father-in-law has a great line: "You know, with a name like McCloskey and eight kids, people assume we’re strict Catholics. The truth is we’re just careless Protestants."
Somewhere In Your Heart received airplay on the radio and slowly began climbing the charts. That is when Frank Sinatra heard it, purchased the copyrights and recorded it himself. It was during Bill’s heyday as a recording artist for Impala Records that he was being touted as "the next Eddie Fisher."
Accolades aside, he realized how difficult it was to break into the music business. He put his career on hold to get a "real job" to support his ever-growing family.
It was around this time that their third child, Bret, was born. It was a difficult birth, and because of an oversight of the novice OB on call, Bret had been deprived of oxygen. By the time his first birthday came around, it was evident he had cerebral palsy. Bret was a smiling, happy, pleasant boy who reveled in the chaos of living in a home with seven brothers and sisters. Because of the severity of his limitations, it was suggested that Bret be placed in a home. What the doctor who made this suggestion didn’t realize was that Bret already had a home.
While Bill worked and helped out as much as he could, Barbara stayed home and took care of not just Bret’s every need, but also those of her seven other children.
Bret died in 1981. His grave marker hails him as "Our Soldier," because that’s what he was. He had a vast knowledge about anything pertaining to World War II, but his legacy was deeper than that. Despite his many limitations, Bret always soldiered on, always rallied the family. We all remember him as the bravest person we’ve ever known.
I think there’s a lot of truth in that saying that you not only marry your spouse but their family as well. I consider having married into the McCloskey clan one of the greatest blessings of my life. Beyond another set of parents, I gained four more brothers and three sisters, not to mention countless aunts, uncles and cousins. It is interesting to come from a small family and suddenly be part of a large family. It is loud, loving, chaotic, loud, crazy, fun . . . did I mention loud? I wouldn’t change it for the world.
Two years ago, Bill and Barbara celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary. We "kids" got together and decided this warranted a party, so party we did, plotting a weekend full of family activities culminating in a surprise party attended by more than 100 family members and friends.
The day after the party I had a chance to talk privately with my father-in-law. He was recounting the fun of the weekend and waxing nostalgic when he said to me, "You know, Rob, I was supposed to be the next Eddie Fisher."
He took a minute to collect his thoughts. "But after looking around that room yesterday, I wouldn’t trade all the fame and fortune in the world for what I have."
And neither would we, dad. And so on this Father’s Day, I personally say "thank you" for finding a place "somewhere in your heart" for all of us. ••
Robyn McCloskey’s column appears each week in the Northeast Times. She can be reached at crmccloskey@verizon.net