Patrick “P.J.” McAvinchey

When thinking back about PJ, identifying things that I’d always like to remember him by, I find I really focus on two things. One, for nearly his entire life, I found him to be exceptionally dependable, conscientious, mindful and sensitive, in other words, someone you could count on when you needed somebody, and who would not let you down. I think a lot of you will also think back and remember him that way. We would count on him for so many things, and he would deliver.

One important moment for me that illustrates this is when, in 2002, I was hospitalized for eight days, and he, and my sister Cathy, and my friend Chris dropped what they were doing , flew down to North Carolina and helped me keep my small business going, by packing and mailing out orders to customers as I was recovering in hospital – ensuring that my business would not be severely impacted by my absence. They didn’t know what to do or how to do it, so I was on the hospital phone directing them. “Here, click this, go there, get packing materials here, print mailing labels this way, etc.” They knew I was in trouble, and that my business could potentially be impacted negatively, and went above and beyond to help.

But secondly and more importantly, when I think of PJ, I will think about what we shared together – and it’s a long list! Just a few highlights:

As a kid, PJ was always up for a game – Clue, Battleship, Electric Football, Monopoly, but especially rod-hockey, a tabletop hockey game with metal players. We must have played hundreds of hockey games on that thing. We also pooled our money and bought one of (if not the) first home video game systems, the Magnavox Odyssey, back in 1974, which led to endless games of Pong on a black and white TV.

Then there were the dozens of games of catch, with baseballs, footballs and plastic street hockey pucks, shooting baskets in the backyard, and throwing Frisbees.

We shared a room when we were little, and when our family moved to a larger house in 1970, when at last we could have had our own rooms, we chose to continue to share a room. Why? Because neither of us wanted to give up the half-hour of talking in the dark before we fell asleep, a tradition we continued for the next 10 years.

The White Sox games! Nearly every year one or both of us would get free tickets to a White Sox game from St. Francis, and when we were old enough, my Dad would just drop us off – and the fun we would have, running, exploring and roaming around a near-empty Comiskey Park!

We learned how to play music together, we both bought guitars in 1978, took lessons from the same music teacher, pooled our money so we could buy an amp, and shared all the records we bought at the time, which led to numerous jam sessions, and even a public performance. The jam sessions continued into adulthood at the Havey house on Ashland Ave. in La Grange, as Kevin Havey and a drummer ‘du jour’ made sure that the Blues and Classic Rock were heard (and felt!) all over the neighborhood.

We both learned to program computers at the same time, from a book on programming we bought in California, I would write programs as a junior in high school at LT’s North Campus and PJ would get them running on a computer at LT’s South Campus. Those early days of programming together resulted in a 40-year career in IT for me, so that collaboration cannot be minimized.

We always shared the back of the station wagon on those long family car trips and vacations, to places such as Colorado, Wisconsin, Michigan, Boston, Virginia, and Canada. He had such a great sense of humor as a little kid and always kept us entertained in the ‘way back’, as we called it. We also had long car rides together up to the Upper Peninsula of Michigan when he attended Michigan Tech in 1980-81, always with the plan to share a Shakey’s pizza in Iron Mountain, Michigan on the way up.

We both worked at the La Grange Theater, which sparked in both of us a lifelong passion for movies.

As adults, we shared living space twice, once for a year in Raleigh, North Carolina, and then for another 18 months in Darien, Illinois.

We took vacations together, to Orlando, Florida, to Cancun, Mexico, to Asheville, North Carolina and many, many times to Las Vegas, where we traded ideas in the finer points of both craps and sports betting. He really loved those gaming trips and we probably gave up more than we realized when we stopped the regular visits out West, because we never could find a good way to replace the camaraderie and ‘esprit de corps’.

One of our last fun memories of time spent together was on June 12, 2016, when we were photographed in the Winner’s Circle at Arlington Park with Turbulent War, jockey Mitchell Murrill, and the horse’s ownership team after the thoroughbred had won his late afternoon race.

My memories of PJ going forward are always going to be dominated by everything I just shared about the things that we shared. Rock on Pat!

9 Replies to “Patrick “P.J.” McAvinchey”

Ed and Bev Peterman says:

January 13, 2020 at 6:41 pm

Rest In Peace Patrick. We were happy when you joined our family and we loved you. We will miss you.

Karen says:

January 13, 2020 at 8:55 pm

Pat and I worked together for several years. He was always kind and always wonderful to chat with. I am so sorry for your loss.

Peg Schenk says:

January 14, 2020 at 6:48 am

MAY GOD TAKE YOU IN THE PALM OF HIS HAND.
AUNT PEG

Dan McAvinchey says:

January 14, 2020 at 10:01 am

When thinking back about PJ, identifying things that I’d always like to remember him by, I find I really focus on two things. One, for nearly his entire life, I found him to be exceptionally dependable, conscientious, mindful and sensitive, in other words, someone you could count on when you needed somebody, and who would not let you down. I think a lot of you will also think back and remember him that way. We would count on him for so many things, and he would deliver.

One important moment for me that illustrates this is when, in 2002, I was hospitalized for eight days, and he, and my sister Cathy, and my friend Chris dropped what they were doing , flew down to North Carolina and helped me keep my small business going, by packing and mailing out orders to customers as I was recovering in hospital – ensuring that my business would not be severely impacted by my absence. They didn’t know what to do or how to do it, so I was on the hospital phone directing them. “Here, click this, go there, get packing materials here, print mailing labels this way, etc.” They knew I was in trouble, and that my business could potentially be impacted negatively, and went above and beyond to help.

But secondly and more importantly, when I think of PJ, I will think about what we shared together – and it’s a long list! Just a few highlights:

As a kid, PJ was always up for a game – Clue, Battleship, Electric Football, Monopoly, but especially rod-hockey, a tabletop hockey game with metal players. We must have played hundreds of hockey games on that thing. We also pooled our money and bought one of (if not the) first home video game systems, the Magnavox Odyssey, back in 1974, which led to endless games of Pong on a black and white TV.

Then there were the dozens of games of catch, with baseballs, footballs and plastic street hockey pucks, shooting baskets in the backyard, and throwing Frisbees.

We shared a room when we were little, and when our family moved to a larger house in 1970, when at last we could have had our own rooms, we chose to continue to share a room. Why? Because neither of us wanted to give up the half-hour of talking in the dark before we fell asleep, a tradition we continued for the next 10 years.

The White Sox games! Nearly every year one or both of us would get free tickets to a White Sox game from St. Francis, and when we were old enough, my Dad would just drop us off – and the fun we would have, running, exploring and roaming around a near-empty Comiskey Park!

We learned how to play music together, we both bought guitars in 1978, took lessons from the same music teacher, pooled our money so we could buy an amp, and shared all the records we bought at the time, which led to numerous jam sessions, and even a public performance. The jam sessions continued into adulthood at the Havey house on Ashland Ave. in La Grange, as Kevin Havey and a drummer ‘du jour’ made sure that the Blues and Classic Rock were heard (and felt!) all over the neighborhood.

We both learned to program computers at the same time, from a book on programming we bought in California, I would write programs as a junior in high school at LT’s North Campus and PJ would get them running on a computer at LT’s South Campus. Those early days of programming together resulted in a 40-year career in IT for me, so that collaboration cannot be minimized.

We always shared the back of the station wagon on those long family car trips and vacations, to places such as Colorado, Wisconsin, Michigan, Boston, Virginia, and Canada. He had such a great sense of humor as a little kid and always kept us entertained in the ‘way back’, as we called it. We also had long car rides together up to the Upper Peninsula of Michigan when he attended Michigan Tech in 1980-81, always with the plan to share a Shakey’s pizza in Iron Mountain, Michigan on the way up.

We both worked at the La Grange Theater, which sparked in both of us a lifelong passion for movies.

As adults, we shared living space twice, once for a year in Raleigh, North Carolina, and then for another 18 months in Darien, Illinois.

We took vacations together, to Orlando, Florida, to Cancun, Mexico, to Asheville, North Carolina and many, many times to Las Vegas, where we traded ideas in the finer points of both craps and sports betting. He really loved those gaming trips and we probably gave up more than we realized when we stopped the regular visits out West, because we never could find a good way to replace the camaraderie and ‘esprit de corps’.

One of our last fun memories of time spent together was on June 12, 2016, when we were photographed in the Winner’s Circle at Arlington Park with Turbulent War, jockey Mitchell Murrill, and the horse’s ownership team after the thoroughbred had won his late afternoon race.

My memories of PJ going forward are always going to be dominated by everything I just shared about the things that we shared. Rock on Pat!

1. Jackie Metivier says:
  
  January 15, 2020 at 3:23 pm
  
  Dear Dan, I am very sorry for your loss. May those great memories bring you comfort. Jackie & Paul Metivier
  
2. Frank McAvinchey says:
  
  January 29, 2020 at 12:55 pm
  
  Dan, so very sorry to hear of your brother passing. He was my age. It’s amazing how much he resembles Charley McAvinchey, my Uncle Tom’s son, who is a year or two younger than I.
  I hope you’re all well . God bless you and comfort you during this time!
  
Michelle Martin says:

January 14, 2020 at 6:49 pm

Dan – I’m so sorry to hear about PJ. My condolences to you and your family for his loss. Thanks for providing such a wonderful picture of PJ’s life to help us remember him.

Chris martin says:

January 14, 2020 at 7:40 pm

It’s hard to put into words my feelings when I heard PJ died this weekend. The family has been through so much these last 10 years..it’s truly disheartening to learn their suffering continues.

So many memories come flooding back–walking to Sedgewick Park with PJ and Dan…going bowling and playing Space Invaders and then the poker games on the patio next to the big garage. There were so many Friday and Saturday nights at the theatre–stashing beer in the back dressing room near the ice machine and hanging out after closing–climbing to the roof of the theatre and looking out the night sky trying to figure out what we were to be in our futures….and then walking to Calley’s in hopes we’d get the cute waitress….To echo Dan’s comments, he was reliable and had class…he showed up at Julie’s parents’ wake to support our family, just a few weeks after we shared that winner’s circle moment at Arlington when things seemed good and he was healthy.

Peg Schenk says:

January 15, 2020 at 12:56 pm

BEAUTIFULLY SAID DAN. THE THREE OF YOU ALWAYS SEEMED TO SHARE A SPECIAL BOND. THOSE MEMORIES WILL
BE WITH YOU ALWAYS AND HELP SUSTAIN YOU.
LOVE,
AUNT PEG

9 Replies to “Patrick “P.J.” McAvinchey”

Leave a Reply Cancel reply