My fondest memories of Uncle George are brought to mind when I think of him, along with his two brothers, Jack and Jimmy, and sister Betty, all together at summer barbecues in his back yard in the late 1960s. With his dad, George Senior, telling Pat and Mike jokes, and Uncle George working the barbecue , "Uncle George" was at the center of the universe of the Irish Callans. I stood by hoping he would send me to get him a Genesee Creme ale, and when he did, we both knew it was so I could sneak a sip on the way back. While its easy to remember him the last few years as fading into history, I think of him as I did as a child. In 1965, he was in his prime, the oldest son of wonderful Irish parents, sharp and serious, quick witted and sarcastic, a wry funny man dressed in well-cut suits with a scotch in one hand and a smoke in the other, enjoying the good life that our Irish ancestor Bernard Callan hoped for us all when he landed in Seneca Falls in 1865. I will miss him, and my heart goes out to his loved ones in Rochester, who had the pleasure to know George better than I ever did over the past forty years.
-John Callan
