The news came in an email from Deacon Paul Audette. It simply read, “Jim passed away today. I have no other details.” I knew instantly that my personal friend, business confidant, fellow Urban Missionary of Our Lady of Hope, our “steady-Eddie volunteer, a faithful donor to our ministry and a very holy man, James Adams had died. “May God welcome him into paradise,” I thought, then I fell silent for a while.

Jim Adams first came to us through our son, Mark. “Hey, I have a friend at work who is retiring and I told him about the Christmas program and he would like to volunteer.” I let Mark know that the Christmas Giving Program distribution center would be housed in the old Shabooms at 30 Worcester Ctr Blvd., Worcester and what the hours would be so he could let his friend know. One afternoon a tall gentleman walked into the distribution center. “Hi,” I said. “Hello,” he replied. “I am looking for Walter?” I quickly quipped, “You found him.” A big smile crossed his face as he extended his hand. I shook hands with him while he continued to introduce himself, “I am Jim Adams, I work with your son Mark. I am here to help. “Ok,” I replied, “Glad to meet you.” I have kind of a big problem for you to work on, follow me. As we made our way through Shaboom’s dance rooms I took him to where we had piles upon piles of bags filled with Christmas gifts that needed to be opened and sorted into very large “Gaylord” boxes by age group.

Jim stood there for a minute or two, then took off his winter coat and grabbed a bag full of gifts. He still had that big smile on his face. He pushed up his glasses as he took out the first gift to see what Gaylord he should put it into. I thought to myself, “How long is he going to last?” Well, he stayed and stayed and stayed until every bag was emptied and all the gifts were in the correct boxes. As he was leaving, he waved good-bye and said, “I’ll be back, this was great!”

Jim worked with us until Christmas, doing any task we asked him to do all the while asking questions, “What do we do? Who do we help? Why? How long have you been doing this? Why?” He wanted to know all about us, everything, and of course I was more than willing to answer every question with examples. During this time a friendship was forged. I came to respect Jim’s business knowledge, his family, and his generosity so much so that eventually I asked if he would like to become an Urban Missionary of Our Lady of Hope. His very quick answer was, “But I am not Catholic.” and my quicker answer was you don’t need to be a Catholic to become an Urban Missionary of Our Lady of Hope. You can become an associate member which has all of the benefits and obligations of an Urban Missionary of Our Lady of Hope. He replied, “Ok I am in!”

Along with his big disarming smile Jim had another favorite saying which he would say whenever something extraordinary happened or when he sensed that I was struggling with something in the ministry. When he was about to leave he would say with that big smile on his face, “So long, I love you pal!” When it first happened it would stop me in my tracks. After a while I would wait for it. It always made me feel that I was loved.

Jim was also very generous with his money. He bought us a weed whacker so he wouldn’t have to use our “broken-down thing.” He became a sustainer and encouraged many of his friends to also do so. In fact, he was so upset when he decided to turn in his CRV instead of donating it to us that I had to sit him down and explain to him why he made the correct decision.

One of the things Jim loved was going to Disney World so Joan and he could run in the Disney road races through the parks. This one year one of their trips was scheduled the same week that Kathy and I would take all of our children and maybe some of their friends to Disney. I talked with Jim a few days before he left. “See you in Disney World,” he said. But we never discussed where in Disney World we would meet up or what day or time. One sunny day in Animal Kingdom we stopped off at a restroom as we were walking up to the Wild Safari ride. The street was teeming with people. While everyone else went into the restroom I decided to sit on a nonworking water fountain wall and wait for them. I was sitting there for two or three minutes when “guess who” came walking out of the men’s room? You got it, Jim Adams, as big as life! Without missing a beat and with that big grin on his face he calmly said, “Hi, Walter.” as if this is where we planned to meet! I couldn’t even answer him, I just started laughing so hard I couldn’t stop. Then all hell broke loose, as this woman, (Jim’s wife, Joan) came straight towards me on one side of me saying, “You must be Walter Doyle,” and Kathy and the kids coming on the other side yelling, “It’s Jim Adams. Hi Jim.” It took about five minutes before things calmed down and we all stopped laughing. That is when I coined the phase, “A Jim Adams Event!!”

During the summers, Jim took on the responsibility of mowing the grassy hill and weed whacking all along the 700-foot sidewalk. He would start after picking up the bread and pastries at the Big Y in Holden. Oh, I forgot to mention that Jim volunteered to do the bread pickup at the Big Y in Holden five days a week. He did this for over ten years. After he would finish weed whacking on Flea Market Saturdays, Jim would pull up a chair next to mine in the shade and we would address the problems of the world. This entailed much laughing and joke telling about goings-on at the LittleStore. Around 1:00 P.M. we would start packing up the Flea market things and around 2:15 P.M. the Amtrak train to Chicago would come flying past us behind our building and Jim and I would yell at the top of our lungs, “Take me with you” as the train passed us by. Then we would look at each other and laugh. I looked forward to it every week of Flea Market season. It was where I came to respect Jim’s sense of humor and his business wisdom.

I came to respect Jim’s business knowledge so much that after a year I asked him if he would join our board of directors for the Urban Missionaries of Our Lady of Hope. Jim served with distinction for nearly 15 years. And when he became sick, he decided that he could not continue with the board activities, Jim quietly asked if he could resign from the board. I said, Yes, but the board would miss his contributions. A little piece of me died that day!

As Jim became sicker Paul Audette and I decided that we needed to stay in contact with him, so we would take him out to McDonald’s in Holden, grab a small snack and spend two to three hours talking over the problems of the world. But we noticed that Jim was getting weaker. So it wasn’t a surprise when Paul emailed me while I was in Florida on vacation that Jim was in the hospital and that it didn’t look good. A few days later Paul notified me Jim had died. Kathy and I talked about going home for the funeral, but it would have been too difficult to arrange so we decided to ask our daughter and board member, Michele Doyle, to attend the funeral and read our reflections. Because it was a private funeral we contacted Joan, Jim’s wife, who said it would be ok if Michelle attended and she could read a short note from Kathy and I. The reflection is printed here in its entirety.

A Reflection at his burial, read by Michele Doyle … We’re so sorry we cannot be with you today – but we’re traveling and are probably somewhere around Delaware as our daughter, Michele, reads this for us. But even though we can’t be with you physically, we are with you in spirit and we want you to know how much Jim has meant to us, our ministry to the “least, the last, and the left out,” to the workers and customers of the LittleStore, and the many people whom Jim would stop and talk to as they passed by while he was weed whacking the sidewalks around 242 Canterbury Street.
He affected us, influenced us, stood with us, and helped us in so many ways that it’s difficult to know where to start. There were the obvious ways, as a member of our Board of Directors, and later on, as an Urban Missionary, as he worked with us to grow this ministry.
And some not-so-obvious ways — like coming to weedwhack all the brush around the Little Store, or picking up bread at the Big Y in Holden and delivering it to the LittleStore in Worcester. Who can count how many times he loaded up his car with bread and pastries? Then there was Jim cheerfully doing awful jobs — like closing up the yard sales and never failing to yell “Take me with you,” with Walter when the 2:00 p.m. Amtrak train flew by on its way to Chicago. And Christmas, oh yes, and Christmas — He had on his Jim Adams smile from the time he arrived until he went home some hours later. One of Jim’s least favorite tasks was being on the lift bringing up a lift-full of Christmas gifts to the second story floor where they would be sorted, selected, and bagged for a good little boy or girl. But this was NOT Jim’s favorite thing – not at all. We think it was something about being 30 feet in the air. At our board meetings, Jim was the “steady Eddie” always keeping us on track. He never argued, he would simply state the obvious in a voice that would bring the discussion back to reality. He helped guide us in doubling the size of the ministry. But, as we who knew Jim, it was never just what he did –
although he was very diligent in every task undertaken. A lot of his caring came through in how he did those things. First of all, with humor – his gift to us all. Jim would bring bread into the store, walk in, and chat for a few minutes with some of the staff or some of the customers. And from that, he would get a sense of what was going on. Then he would seek Walter out and share his thoughts. It was his way of taking care of us. Finally, as a friend, Jim quietly conveyed a deep and genuine affection to us that made us feel like we were doing something right. Perhaps, that was just Jim doing something right. Now we must say goodbye to our friend, mentor, and brother Urban Missionary of Our Lady of Hope. We, like anyone who knew Jim, will have an empty feeling, like something very valuable has been taken from us for a long time. But we, as Christians pray that Jim walked through those pearly gates with his big grin and began helping out.
Joan, Jeff, and Jennifer, We thank you for sharing Jim with us.

May perpetual light shine upon him and may he rest in peace.
“The day the music died” and I cried!“