Everybody enjoys a good story, and it doesn't even need to be true, though it’s only right to distinguish between true stories, fiction, and lies … which are three different creatures . You will have to be the judge of that in this story: I am simply repeating what Georgia told me, and reminding you that she had such a powerful imagination that it sometimes overpowered her perceptions or her memory; and that's true of us all to some extent, but her imagination exceeded by far my own ability to visualize or make things up. In any case, a good and proper story should not have obvious holes or missing parts; and if you skip ahead to the end of this chapter to Greg Cunningham’s obituary, you will read of his many, if not all of his children, grandchildren and great grandchildren, but there is no mention of his parents, his life prior to graduating from high school, of his ever having any wife or wives, and though there is a reference to a hitch in the Army, it is only to say that he “served in the Army for a number of years”, which must have been a life-altering experience:, given that he came of age at the start of the war in Vietnam, and it would have been marvelous good luck for him to survived it at all, or to not at least have been damaged for life, as were his older brothers Jim in occupied Germany, and Freddie in wartime Korea. .
Greg didn’t need war to define or disable him: he was BORN with a heart condition, and it wasn’t clear from the beginning that he would even survive childhood. But he was lucky to have loving parents. They…and it seems everyone else in the village of Central Square … were always so solicitous of his welfare that he got better fast ... WAY better.
Despite the strictly vegetarian meals Pearl prepared
(due to her having as a child been given a calf to raise, without being told it was going to be slaughtered) the boys grew up strong, healthy, and even contented: partly because they were always welcome for meals at neighbor Claude’s farm , where beef and chicken were in the yard and on the table.
Greg grew strong like a bull, and became a star high-school football quarterback. He developed the self-confidence and charm that comes with being cheered on by one’s whole home-town, and he won a girlfriend or several. He also joined the Boy Scouts, or said he did.
He drafted his mother to suit him up properly for scouting activities.
Pearl was ready and willing: a champion seamstress and designer; she had her own side-business, “Pearl’s Thimble”. She was an accomplished maker of well- dressed dolls with which she won prizes at the state fair. She not only could but DID make dresses out of feedbags, and would eventually, design the uniforms for Mohawk Airlines stewardesses. She would proceed to design, not just the uniforms of the Hess gas stations attendants, but the facades of the stations themselves, the truck detailing, and the famous Hess toy truck campaign.
She made Greg’s uniform, and when he announced his promotion to Eagle status, she sewed up the special sash on which to display merit badges he claimed, and which she also made. I don’t know what the merit badges were for, but you are already suspicious.
Scouting involved a lot of pack meetings, overnight camping and such, so Greg was often away overnight; more often than most Boy Scouts.
I don’t recall from Georgia’s account just how Pearl and George found out, but his parents discovered that Greg had not joined the Scouts at all, but had been spending those nights away at his girlfriend’s house.
George went and confronted the girl’s parents with the facts, of which they were well aware, and which they tolerated; figuring that it was better and safer to have that going on, than having the kids sneak around; and what with Greg being such a fine young man anyway.
Nothing much came of that. He would never marry the girl, high school graduation came along and, despite his the poor outcomes of his two brother’s Army experience, he still planned, as they had, to join up, become an Military Policeman, and emerge ready to be a State Trooper.
But this was just as the War in Vietnam was heating up, and he, not being well informed about that, enrolled.
Then, shortly before he was supposed to report for duty, somebody told him about the war; and he very quickly disappeared.
Greg was was of course very good at disappearing. Even his parents didn’t know where he was for a long while, and it took a couple of years for the government to catch up with him. He moved from place to place and job to job, converting his Cuningham sir-name to a double N version, and, no doubt, using other names too.
During that time … always afterwards also …. the family didn’t hear from him often or ever really know where he was.
The sport was challenging enough that they came to admire and value Greg’s devious talent.
After a long confinement, which didn't suit a man like Greg, they made him an offer: Work for the CIA, or spend his life in the clink, like any ordinary deserter.
An easy choice for Greg, requiring no real disruption in his accustomed way of life, along with a salary and support for his cover identities.
He became a Central Intelligence Agency operative. According to Georgia’s count: during, and before his patriotic service, he had seven wives and no divorces. He must have had many interesting lives and broken a few hearts. He had at least two daughters whom he named Georgia, not just because he adored his little sister, but so that he would not slip up and call one by the wrong name.
I don’t know how he managed the several wives without any divorces, but one day, one of the other Georgias showed up at the door looking for a Greg Cunningham. I doubt that she ever found him.
But he would sentimental about family and still fond of our Georgia, telling her more about his professional activities than he probably should have. He told her that he was there on the Tarmac when Senatoer Aquino was "assassinated", but that the guy was already dead when he was “helped” off the plane.
In the summer of 1968 when Georgia was in Chicago for an academic conference, he just happened to be there too, knowing what hotel she was in, called a message to her hotel, saying that she should be at a certain public phone booth at a certain time when he would call, which she did, and he called telling her about the shit that was about to happen and that she should get out of town. He didn’t meet up with her then, but she got away before the shit hit the fan.
Years passed and they never saw him, though occasionally he would call home and promise to visit soon ... or sometime.
Eventually he was able to retire from Government service and with the money he made from that PLUS the money he made from his cover identities, he bought land in Florida: the whole of a village abandoned due to I don’t know what, so maybe it didn’t cost that much and anyway, he apparently lived in Miami Beach anyway, but still he never came home again.
Greg didn’t make it to his father’s funeral. And later on, when Pearl was sick and about to die for real this time, he promised to come and see her one more time before that happened; and he didn’t ,but he called the day of the funeral, when brother Jim and the rest of the family were gathered there, and Georgia answered the phone. When Jim realized who it was, promising again to show up with flowers or something, Jim took the phone from Georgia and told him with deep sincerity and high emotion that, if Greg DID show up, he .. Jim ... would damn well SHOOT him, and I have to admire Jim some for that.
Of course Greg didn’t show up, nor would he have anyway, and I don’t know what he died of; the obituary doesn't say, but here it is:
Obituary for Judson G. Cunningham
“Judson Gregory (“Papa”) Cunningham, 80, passed away on Friday September 16, 2016. He was born on April 24, 1936 in Syracuse, New York.
He is survived by his sister Georgia; his four daughters, Colleen, Georgette, Ashley, and Michele; his two sons-in-law, Michael and James; his grandchildren Kayleigh, Amy, Michaela, Maya, Taylor, Giovanni, Aimee, Max, Rachel Ireland and Vincenzo; and several great grandchildren.
He played football at Central Square High School. After graduating, he served in the Army for a number of years. Afterwards, he began an extensive career in underground utilities. He supervised and managed underground utility projects in the U.S. and overseas for over 40 years. He was a certified heavy equipment operator and an expert welder. He traveled to various counties throughout his career including Saudi Arabia, the Philippines and all over West Africa.
He had a great passion for ministering to people. While in West Africa, he was part of Eternal Love Winning Africa (“ELWA”) in Liberia. He worked closely with Dr. Bob Schindler, founder of the ELWA Hospital, to spread the gospel and help plant churches throughout Liberia and West Africa.
After returning to the U.S. he took courses at the Moody Bible Institute and was a member at Miami Bible Church. He was very involved in the church and sang in the choir. After spending many years Miami, Florida he relocated to Ft. Lauderdale, Florida.
Ten years ago he moved to Clearwater, Florida and started a second career as a mechanic. He loved spending time with family and friends, camping, fishing, boating, taking RV trips, cooking and baking pies. In addition to his passion to minister to people, he had a servant’s heart. His desire to help people was a driving force in his life. His acts of service impacted many lives and will continue to have an impact on his family, friends and the community for years to come.
He will be deeply missed by his friends, family and all who knew him.”
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