Number 62, by Bernie Casey

 Number 62

Take a minute and once again open up the class yearbook. Flip through the twenty-two pages of our individual pictures. There we are. All 127 of us. Sons of the working class in our rented tuxedos, starched white shirts, stiff-winged collars, identical bow ties, all neatly coiffed, airbrushed faces, all pleasant and responsible. Ideal Brothers’ boys. We know this portrait isn’t real. No photograph, no one moment in time, particularly sixty-one years later, captures the complexity of who we were then or are now.

But in a larger sense we were, and we remain, a fairly homogeneous lot, a composite of our patch-quilt Blackstone Valley soil. Just look at the names. Buzzerio, Cimarusti, La Scola, Clancy, Houlihan, McCarthy, Beauchemin, Cinq-Mars, Langlois, Schwab, Ullrich, Mikucki, Sczepanek, Warchol. White European stock — French-Canadian, Italian, Irish, Polish, German — a medley that worked the mills, made the tools, patrolled the streets, put out the fires, baked the bread, drove the busses, delivered the mail and taught us in school. A diverse ethnicity in a common heritage.

One classmate’s ancestry stands out though. And this is his story. It is as singular and interesting as his heritage. Reggie Macamaux needs no introduction. We remember him as the friendly, quick-with-the-wisecrack guy who turned fearsome, “Savage” as it were, on the gridiron as an All Valley lineman.

“He’s an original.” Most of us can say that about ourselves in one way or another. Reggie takes it a step further. Reggie is an “aboriginal” a certified, card-carrying member of the Confederation of Aboriginal People of Canada, the ancient Abenaki Nation.

The Abenakis

Abenakis have occupied northeastern parts of the US and Canada for millenia. They are recognized in the US as a Native American tribe and in Canada as a First Nation. The Abenaki were an agricultural society who supplemented their subsistence with hunting and trapping. Story-telling was an important feature of Abenaki culture. They were also fierce warriors, defending their territory against the expansionist Iroquois and as loyal Allies of the French in the French and Indian Wars. As we shall see, Reggie absorbed many of these traits and skills.

The Family

Reggie comes from the Macamic family which was part of the Abenaki Bear Clan. When his great grandfather, Atashni Macamic, emigrated from Canada to the US, border guards changed his name to Anselme Macamaux. Atashni, or Anselme, married an Inuit woman with whom he sired six children including Louis who taught his grandson, Reggie, many of the native customs and ways.

Reggie’s dad, Reginald Senior, was a master tool maker, a role model for Reggie and flame-keeper of the Macamaux Native heritage. As a boy, Reggie traveled with his dad and grandfather from one Pow Wow to another in various States and Canada. His mother, Doris, was part of the well-known La France clan, the 19th of 20 siblings. We may remember Reggie’s uncle, August P La France, a stalwart of the Democratic party who, having started out as a barber in the family shop on Main Street, turned to politics and never lost an election in 34 years in elected state office, including 14 years as Secretary of State. But who knew Reggie himself acquired a taste for politics (short lived) as a Page in the RI State House during his years at Bryant University.

Achievements

Many of us first got to know Reggie as Number 62 in the Purple and Gold snapping the ball to Ed McNaught on offense and, on defense, stalking the field for yet another prey to take down. He wasn’t the biggest or fastest player on the team, just fierce. And smart. “Baron” McCabe remembers, “Reggie owned the center position. No one ever thought of challenging him for it. It was a given. McCrystal’s famous tongue lashings never applied to Reggie.” Co-captain Farley remembers there was something about Reggie, some uncommon maturity, that made him the rock solid core of the team, the guy that never panicked and always held things together both on and off the field.

Football wasn’t his only interest as a boy. Early on, Reggie tapped into his ancestral currents as an outdoorsman and to this day he is an avid hunter, fisherman and a trophied competitive archer. He is the first person ever to shoot a perfect 300 on 3-D animal targets in the Northeast, representing the manufacturer, Hoyt Archery, in competition. But his adventures are not limited to the woods, fields and streams. Reggie is a licensed private pilot and at one time owned a Cherokee (of course) 160, a six seat plane as well as a 27 foot Thompson cabin cruiser. No surprise Reggie is an avid outdoorsman and adventurer but he has deep-dived into other areas that might not fit this image at all. Let’s take a look at other steps on his journey since leaving Saints.

First, the basics: Foremost among Reggie’s many successes in life is his 55 year marriage to the beautiful Annette whom he met during his two years at Bryant College. They have one son, Sean, a successful financial analyst in Boston.

Reggie earned an Associates Degree in Accounting from Northeastern University and applied this background to his business career first as Regional Sales Manager for Burroughs Corporation then as proprietor of his own enterprises selling business machines and copier supplies to financial institutions, hospitals and other large businesses.

But there are other paths in his life, perhaps surprising to us, which might be seen to have merged into a single road leading back to the Native traditions of his heritage. It might also be true that one particular chapter in Reggie’s life was the springboard for that convergence. Let me explain:

Reggie’s service in the US Army in 1961-63 is a literal reflection of the Abenaki warrior. The full story of Reggie’s perilous overseas assignments cannot be told herein. Suffice it to say, employing stealth and courage Reggie experienced close personal encounters with enemy forces that left an indelible mark, both painful and contemplative. In his own recent words speaking of his one-time enemy: “I want to extend a hand of friendship which would bring peace and release.”

It is, I think, fair to consider whether the scars of battle catalyzed and brought to the surface a latent reflective side, one that is visible in Reggie’s post-war activities that meld aspects of his ancestral culture beyond, and sometimes opposing, that of a warrior.

Consider for example tai chi. Reggie has long been involved with the martial arts. After returning from the war he concentrated on tai chi, an ancient Chinese martial art that has a large meditative component. The focus and calm of meditation is thought to be vital to its technique of yielding to and engaging an attack rather than meeting it head-on with direct opposing force. It is widely taught not only for self-defense but as a therapeutic and prophylactic form of exercise to cultivate grace and balance in movements and in life.

Reggie didn’t just dabble in tai chi, he mastered it on a global scale. He is a six time Gold Medal Winner at the International Chinese Martial Arts Championship competition, a Gold Medal winner at the 2014 Tai Chi World Cup Championship in Taipei, and a still active professional instructor certified by the World Tai Chi Association. Check out his website at www.taichiqigong.net.

The peace-making and story-telling sides of Native culture are less known than the warrior side, but no less real and historically important. The romance of ancient Native lore has survived over the millennia only through stories and poetry. The immortalized cri de couer of Nez Perce warrior and peacemaker Chief Joseph is illustrative: “Hear me, my chiefs! I am tired. My heart is sick and sad. From where the sun now stands I will fight no more forever.”

Would any of us, sixty-plus years ago, have associated Reggie with the rhythms and sentiments of poetry? Unlikely. But listen to his words now:

My Mother

I went to see my Mom today, but she now lives too far away

So, I told her how much I loved her and how I missed her so, I blew a kiss toward heaven, that is where she lives you know. And when she said I love you too, the clouds I swear did part

When she smiled down upon me there was thunder in my heart. She said don't worry son just continue doing what you do,

And when God decides to bring you home, I'll be here to welcome you. Love you Mom

My Father

My father was a rough and tumble guy, a very handsome man, who often spent

his time afield to hunt and catch some fish. He always took me with him, and taught me all I know. Like where I should put my arrow when it was time to shoot my bow.

I always know when he is here because the soft wind blowing on my back tells me when he’s near

Foot Prints

This night I sit alone here by the sea And wish that you were here with me. We would sit and gaze upon the stars And wonder of this world that is ours.

As we walked upon the beach I'd take you by hand Together we would leave our footprints in the sand. One day when we walk in heaven hand and hand Other lovers will come to walk here and still find Our footprints in the sand.

All of us will be staying tuned to watch what new paths will be taken, what new personal dimensions will unfold, as our most interesting classmate, Number 62, continues to make footprints in the sands of time.

Bernie Casey, SRA 1960 October 30, 2021