Valedictory: Dr. Leo Cahalan

[Confluence Logansport]

A tribute to a quiet man

by Dave Kitchell
Local Columnist

Of all the John Wayne movies in which he played cowboys and war
heroes, the one that repeatedly stands out was one of his favorites
because he was cast in neither role.

The actor who was in real life an Irish-American named Marian Michael
Morrison played the lead in “The Quiet Man,” the story of an Irish-
American who was a prolific boxer tormented by the fact that a man he
once fought in the ring died as a result of the match.

Logansport’s own version of the Irish-American quiet man was Leo
Cahalan. I don’t know that he ever boxed, but he did many things in a
life that neared 92 years before his passing on Friday.

Few people would go completely through college once, start a career
and then go back to college and complete a second degree in a
completely unrelated discipline. Leo did. After receiving a physical
education degree from the University of Iowa, he went back to Iowa
State University to become a veterinarian.

Leo’s version of Maureen O’Hara in the movie that was his life remains
Betty, who bore him five children. With so many young people under one
roof, it had to be difficult for Leo to get a word in edgewise at
times. For the quiet man he was, it might have been frustrating. But
he was proof that quiet men can be up to good things.

Leo was a Boy Scout leader for Troop 227. That may not sound like
much, but on a summer evening a few years ago in the old St. Vincent
de Paul Elementary Auditorium where troop members past and present
were gathered. There standing in a group were many of the Eagle Scouts
who had been produced in his troop, and it was an august group of
young and older men who could have done many things throughout the
community that evening. Somehow, “Doc” persuaded and encouraged them
in his own quiet way to pursue something few young men do.

Part of his quiet nature was his love of nature, and that was never
more apparent than when he led a wildflower hike through Cass County’s
France Park. While many visitors think of that park along the Wabash
River as a place with an old stone quarry and camping, Doc, who served
on the Cass County Parks and Recreation Board, thought of it for what
it really is — one of the few places in the surrounding area where
development never surpassed the natural beauty of what this part of
the world was like when Native Americans were the only residents.

Doc was a natural choice for The Book of Golden Deeds Award presented
by the Logansport Evening Exchange Club. But he humbly admitted he
wasn’t much for making speeches.

For a quiet man, he could raise his voice now and then. Once when an
errant Frisbee left his property and sailed into a pasture next to a
bull, Doc stared down the bull and shooed him away. The bull ran. The
Frisbee was saved.

As a father of five, he knew it was a good idea to hold on to a
station wagon as long as possible. For many years, that practice came
in handy for the family’s Christmas caroling gig as we referred to it.
Leo was the flagship for young and old alike who made it to as many as
40 stops in one night, including nursing homes, the hospital and homes
where shut-ins turned a light on and left some cookies for the
carolers. I saw him blush in my own house once when he was kissed
under the mistletoe while caroling.

My favorite Christmas memory of him was a mellow moment in his home
living room. Late at night after caroling one year, he quietly removed
a mouth harp from his pocket and began playing Christmas carols. I
never knew he had it in him.

Granted, Leo was a fan loyal to sports teams in this state, but he was
forever a native Iowan. He was proud when the Iowa Hawkeyes found
their way to the Rose Bowl, but disappointed when the trips never
produced a champion. A few years ago when Doc was in his 80s, I took
him to a Purdue-Iowa football game in West Lafayette. He was the only
Iowa fan in our section, and he sat quietly as adults cheered against
his team, gently teasing him from time to time on a chilly night when
Iowa, a top 20 team, was going to be upset. When the Hawkeyes finally
scored a touchdown, he stood up and doffed his cap as if to say,
“Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the Iowa Hawkeyes.” A woman sitting
behind us said, “I love him.”

And many people did in quiet ways.

His signature saying was something Irish-esque I’ll never forget, “Oh
great day.” If the news was horrible or wonderful, Leo could weigh in
with the same comment which was his own exclamation point.

It’s easy to take the people who give us many great days for granted
sometimes. But the things we can never take for granted are the quiet
memories and legacies they gave us which we never give up.

• Dave Kitchell teaches journalism at Ball State University.