Stop the Pidgeon

In honor of Father's Day, this week's column is dedicated to a man who was both a father and a father figure to many others.  Thanks for indulging me.
I meant to pay tribute to this man on the fifth anniversary of his passing last month.  But I was still on the fence as to whether I wanted to come back and start writing on a weekly basis again.
To begin with, let's trace back.
Who remembers "Dastardly and Muttley in their Flying Machines" cartoon that ran from 1969 to 1970 on CBS and then an even longer life in syndication on independent TV years after it was canceled?
For those who do, you remember Paul Winchell (who voiced the former titular character) singing "Stop the pigeon, stop the pigeon..." referring to Dastardly's nemesis, Yankee Doodle pigeon, who managed to evade every bumbling attempt by Dastardly and his three cohorts, Muttley, Klunk and Dilly, to 'stop the pigeon' from carrying messages to the enemy during a fictitious World War I era setting.
They came close, but never succeeded to 'stop the pigeon'.
History lesson over.  Class dismissed.
This lesson was the groundbreaker in young Kelly Pidgeon's career.  As an early 20-something getting his start in the business as the morning news voice on the former WNRJ 104.7 in Pittsburgh, his morning show counterparts took great pleasure in playing the theme song under Kelly as he delivered his news.
Kelly had the last laugh, however.  He's currently at KDKA and has his own production company.
But this isn't the story about Kelly or his career.  Rather, it's about the man who played half the role of bringing him and his siblings into this world.
John A. "Jack" Pidgeon.
Growing up in the slums of Boston, Massachusetts, Jack Pidgeon was the son of a single mother who eked out a meager living for herself and her son by working as a cleaning woman.  Using his athleticism to win a scholarship to a prestigious prep school, Jack entered the military and then college.  The private sector, teaching, and an assistant headmastership at another school soon followed.
Then came Kiski.
Not the public school district in northern Westmoreland and southern Armstrong County.  The home of the Cavaliers (and my alma mater) would not be  formed until the end of the decade.
The Kiski School, or Kiskiminetas Springs School, or K-Prep, whatever you want to call it, had been around since the late 1800's. It was one of the oldest boarding schools in the country, and today is the oldest all-boys non-military boarding school in the U.S.
You may recall early movie portrayals of prep schools and Ivy League colleges as having students and faculty who wear overcoats in class.
That wasn't because of class distinction.  It was out of necessity because of drafty windows that allowed the harsh New England winters to creep through warped and cracked windows.
Kiski was no exception when Jack Pidgeon arrived in 1957 as its new headmaster.  Few are left insofar as those who would remember those days.  When I arrived on campus to take my SAT exam in May 1987, I myself would not have known it.  Nor did I know the gruff man in a golf shirt and walking shorts proctoring the exam was the reason behind the school's success.
Because Jack Pidgeon would not have it that way.
Yes, he was behind it.  But it was not about him. It was about the school. And 'his' boys.  He made sure everyone remembered that.
Stop the Pidgeon?  Hell no.
Jack Pidgeon used the same determination as he did to rise above his humble upbringings years ago.  He was determined to make Kiski succeed.  And he did.
Famous alums include Congressman John Murtha, Jack Hanna, and Rafael De Medina, just to name a few.  Those not-so-famous still went on to success in their own right.
And they never forgot Jack and the life lessons he taught them.
Not only did he build a school, but he built men.
Successful men.
If Jack wanted to be remembered for anything, it would be for that.


NEXT WEEK:  Out in the Country