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My father, William Judge, was a storekeeper and postmaster in the small village of St. Croix, Indiana. He knew everybody in the village and on surrounding farms. He was called upon in sickness and in health.

He helped dig graves ... and supplied the dynamite when Indiana winter ground was frozen. During weekdays, he served Mass often at the nearby Holy Cross Catholic Church before opening the store. He was available to drive those who had no car to the local doctor twenty miles away.

He served people in other ways too. He allowed people to get groceries "on the ticket" when they were out of work or waiting to receive checks. Some could never pay much and he knew that. I heard him say, numerous times, "I will not let their children starve." The most vivid memory that I have is: Two single brothers and the single sister lived on their deceased parents' farm. One brother drank to excess. My father would watch, in harsh Indiana winters, for this man to stagger out of the village tavern when it closed. The man would begin the mile walk, on a gravel-rock road, to his farm home. Fearing that he would fall into the ditch and freeze to death, my father would get in his car and drive the man home. I have heard the sister thank my father many times. I'm sure my father saved this man's life.

He set a beautiful example to my two brothers, four sisters and to me.