Memories of Jimmy

While I continue researching information on the McAdoo, Smith, and Peel families, I have shifted my focus back to my dad during the past few weeks. I have started contacting Jimmy's former swimmers at Swarthmore College and asking them to recall some of their memories of him. I would like to share a portion of the notes I received from Bill Ehrhart and Don Cassidy.

Bill wrote, "I’m very glad to hear from you. There’s hardly a week goes by that I don’t have occasion to think of your dad, even after all these years. You may not know this about me—there’s no reason you should—but I arrived at Swarthmore only after three years in the U.S. Marine Corps including a combat tour in Vietnam. I was wrestling with demons my peers and classmates could not even begin to imagine. Indeed, even the adults around me, professors and whatnot, didn’t seem to have a clue; they never let on that John Milton and the Third Crusade and the anthropology of Nepalese village life weren’t the most important things in the world. My years at Swarthmore were lonely and difficult. Jimmy was one of only three people who understood that I was not like the other students. Jimmy was one of only three people at Swarthmore that I could ever feel comfortable with or talk to about things that mattered. I loved him then and love him still."

Don wrote, "During my lifetime, I have collected mentors to guide me through various stages in my journey from childhood to adulthood: my father, several teachers, several friends, supervisors in various work settings, and a variety of coaches were all such mentors. At the age of 51, I count Jimmy McAdoo among the most important mentors in my life. From fall, 1971 through spring, 1972, Jimmy was a gentle giant in my life. His unique leadership blended humor, work, and a deep respect for each of his swimmers for more than three decades. He told us stories. He told us that Swarthmore was an "ivy" school, and if we doubted it, we could look up to the ceiling of the ancient Hall Gym pool (where the men's and women's teams still practiced and competed before the new pool was built), and if we looked closely, we could see ivy growing through the cracks between the walls and the ceiling."