WWW.QNS.COM RIDGEWOOD TIMES MARCH 4, 2021 15
OUR NEIGHBORHOOD: THE WAY IT WAS
The heroic story of Father Lawrence Edward Lynch
PRESENTED BY THE WOODHAVEN
CULTURAL AND HISTORICAL SOCIETY
EDITORIAL@RIDGEWOODTIMES.COM
@RIDGEWOODTIMES
He was a tough Irish kid from
Elderts Lane, one of 12 children
born to a tough New York City
fi reman and his wife, who emigrated
from County Cavan in Ireland. He was
an altar boy at the Catholic Church of
Saint Sylvester in Brooklyn, around
the corner from his house. His name
was Father Lawrence Edward Lynch
and he was a hero.
When he was assigned to the 69th
Infantry Regiment, Lynch stepped
into some mighty big shoes worn by
the famous Father Duff y, who was
immortalized on fi lm by Pat O’Brien
in “The Fighting 69th,” starring James
Cagney. According to those who knew
him well and had the chance to work
alongside him, he fi lled those shoes
admirably.
In fact, he was so well-known for his
energy and enthusiasm that he earned
the nickname Father Cyclone, which
was also the name of a biography written
by Daisy Amoury. The book is out
of print but aff ordable copies of it turn
up on eBay from time to time.
Brigadier General Julius Klein was
his commanding offi cer in the Pacifi c
during World War II and recalled Father
Lynch’s zest for justice when he
stormed into his offi ce fi ghting for a
Jewish soldier who he felt had been
unfairly passed over for promotion.
“It never mattered to him whether a
soul was white or black, Jew or Christian,
or unbeliever,” General Klein said
of his friend. “To him, each human being
was simply a child of God.”
They were at each other’s side on
a rescue ship when rushing to the SS
Elihu Thompson, a Liberty ship that
had struck a mine on Sept. 25, 1944.
Eleven young men were killed and
22 were missing. They were never
found.
While Klein was directing the rescue,
Father Lynch tended to the mortally
wounded, off ering comfort and holding
their hands so the young men did
not have to die alone.
“Ego te absolve,” the “absolution of
sin,” he whispered quietly in the ears of
young men who would never see their
friends or families again.
One of the young dying sailors was
Jewish and asked for a rabbi. None
were available, so Father Lynch held
his hand and whispered, “Sh’mai, Israel,
Adonai, Eloheno Adonai echad.”
The young soldier died just as Father
Lynch fi nished the prayer.
Klein was overcome with emotion
and never forgot the incident, oft en
referring to the priest as his favorite
Irish rabbi.
Regardless of who you were or what
you believed, Father Lynch would be
at your side when you needed him
most. He was a priest fi rst but a soldier
second, and like so many young men
of that era he was unafraid of the hazards
of war, receiving fi ve citations for
bravery. And it was this bravery that
led father Lynch and so many other
young soldiers to the island of Okinawa,
a strategic piece in the impending land
invasion of Japan.
The battle on Okinawa raged for
weeks, and Father Lynch repeatedly
sought out the battalions and regiments
that were expected to see the
heaviest action. It was grueling and
dangerous, but Father Lynch kept
pace with the action, comforting
the wounded and giving last rites to
hundreds and hundreds of the 20,000
American soldiers that would eventually
lose their lives in that battle by the
time it ended.
On April 25, 1945, the Japanese were
shelling the battalion that Father Lynch
was traveling with and a soldier nearby
screamed as he was hit. The tough Irish
priest from Elderts Lane ran to the
young soldier’s side and began off ering
the last rites when a second shell
struck, killing both of them instantly.
Father Lawrence Edward Lynch was
38 years old.
At the end of June, aft er victory had
been secured, over 4,000 servicemen
attended a mass at his graveside in
Okinawa. Back home, a steady stream
of servicemen visited his parents to
pay their respects long aft er the war
had ended.
A local youth football league was
started and named in his honor, taking
part of his name along with honoring
the other veterans of war: Lynvets.
And a piece of land near the border of
Woodhaven, Ozone Park and Brooklyn
was set aside as a memorial. A triangle
at Atlantic Avenue and Rockaway Boulevard
was dedicated in his honor following
a large parade on Oct. 8, 1949.
But over time, the sign disappeared
and people forgot about Father Lawrence
Edward Lynch. On March 9,
2019, the triangle was rededicated in
his name. Members of the Lynch family
along with community leaders from
Woodhaven and Ozone Park gathered
at the memorial to the local Irish boy
turned hero priest they nicknamed
Father Cyclone.
* * *
If you have any remembrances or old
photographs of “Our Neighborhood: The
Way It Was” that you would like to share
with our readers, please write to the Old
Timer, c/o Ridgewood Times, 38-15 Bell
Blvd., Bayside, NY 11361, or send an email
to editorial@ridgewoodtimes.com. Any
print photographs mailed to us will be
carefully returned to you upon request.
Photos courtesy of Woodhaven Cultural and Historical Society
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