Newfield High School Alumni Association - Selden New York
1960 - 2019
IN MEMORY
Patrick Hardwicke - Class Of 1968
Age at Death:
Cause of Death: Auto accident (College Road, Selden
Classmate City: Selden
Classmate State: NY
Classmate Country: USA
Survived By: Patti Hardwicke Zarzana, NHS 1968
I hope among my friends and former teammates who may read this that you will immediately know the name Patrick Hardwicke, Wolverine, Class of 1968. I am over 3,000 miles, 40 plus years and dimensionally removed from him (me of Earth, Pat of Heaven) yet still I think of him in random thoughts that stimulate the memory. My most recent stimulus was the relocating of a picture of Pat and me in 1967 on the Football field. The picture was taken by friend, Stu Silberman, on his Polaroid camera. The three of us were Varsity Wolverine Football Teammates. It was early in the season. Who of us would have ever realized it was late in Pat's life? A life that at this time was only about 17 years young. I have had the picture now since 1967. Do the math. 43 years within a month or two. The last time I came across it was 6 months ago. At that time I said to myself that I somehow must find a family member of Pat's and share the photo with them. Patricia Hardwicke, also NHS '68, came to mind. There were other instances of death that fell upon friends and classmates among Newfield students and friends. George Gleisburg, Jane Cary, Andy Scibelli, and Kenny Kowalenko come to mind. Later, much later, when I became a catalyst in reconnecting friends and classmates more deaths became known to me.
The passing of Benny Abbatiello and recently the knowledge that Helen Festa too had passed were beyond sad to me. To ease my pain and honor these good people I had made the effort to remember some of them by using the memorial section of our Alumni site (www.newfieldalumni.com). I will do this for Pat Hardwicke. When I do, perhaps Patti Hardwicke (when I find her) and her family will be reaffirmed that Pat is not forgotten.
I remember a day in late summer, circa 1969 or '70, when my Dad, SCPD Officer Thomas Finn, told me of Pat's death. It bothered my Dad too, emotionally, despite his years of dealing with death.
Let me talk about Pat Hardwicke for those who knew him and for those that didn't. Inside Pat was a real future leader even if he didn't know it himself. He already was a no nonsense guy that had a tough guy reputation that may have been deserved but misinterpreted. There was a certain amount of caution that underclassman may have exercised around Pat because of his tough guy reputation. Let's just say Pat had a way of earning respect perhaps by several methods. You had to prove yourself to Pat to get his respect and getting Pat's respect was sought out.
As an underclassman you were "someone" if Pat Hardwicke would stand at your side. I proved myself to him a few times while playing on the offensive side of the football team. Perhaps the catch I made to help defeat Patchogue, 7-6 at home, eased my way. However I played offense, Pat played defense. You were still on the fringe with Pat unless you could knock someone on the ground when necessary while playing defense. I thoroughly remember the critical moment I had to prove myself to Pat. I was placed into the Wolverine defense in a critical situation at home against Port Jefferson. Again...I did not play defense unless we were in grave need of a body. The defensive huddle was run with an iron fist by Benny Russo and Pat. Before the break of the defensive huddle ended, Russo looked at me, the novice, right in the eyes and laid down the terms of my temporary employment. "Nobody gets past you. Understand? If they do...your ass is grass". Pat then pulled my facemask to his and repeated "Ass is grass"...Ready? Break! Port Jeff's play now developed. The running back breaks free past Russo and then past Pat. He's coming at me full steam near the far sideline. I'm not sure who had taken over my body and mind at that moment but whoever it was hit this full charging running back into next Tuesday. I guess this was a matter of sacrificing body simply to keep ass. When I realized I had done this, I get back to the huddle expecting some recognition. That didn't happen. I am simply reminded by Pat that my ass could still be grass while he's in charge and or until the regular, better defensive employee hopefully comes back. I had another tackle on the Port Jeff running back and knocked down a long pass attempt. The running back, for Port Jefferson was Les Goodman. He went on to play several seasons for the Green Bay Packers. We won the game. We were 14 point underdogs. Pat didn't say much to me after the game but he patted me on the back. Good enough for me. That moment for me was recognized several years later when I saw the movie BABE. Yes, you are correct. Babe is the movie about a little pig that could herd sheep better than a sheepdog. Babe, the little pig that worked his heart out for just a small amount of feeling worthy to his Master. Babe, the little pig that won the National Sheepherding Award against all odds and convention. Babe, who did this all by himself and for his Master. The pig wins it. The ending scene is of the Sheep Farmer (Master) saying the only words he ever directly said to Babe. The Master looks down at Babe and says..."That'll do, pig. That'll do." That's all the pig wanted. Those words. This was a moment in which I remembered Pat Hardwicke. When he patted my back it was “words unsaid” in the manner in which teammates communicate without saying anything. That’ll do, pig. That’ll do.
By the time spring rolled around we were close teammates on the Baseball team. Pat was the catcher and he still had a leadership role protecting the plate and controlling the pitchers. He had no trouble relinquishing the leadership of the infield to his short stop, me. Thanks for the lessons in leadership, Pat, whether you knew you were teaching or not.
UPDATE: SEPTEMBER 1, 2010
I found Patricia "Patti" Hardwicke in good spirits, content with a large, happy and connected family. I delivered to her a copy of the small treasure of a picture, despite it not bearing Pat's face, which also hopes to keep his memory alive. Pat, if you are seeing this somehow, please stop laughing at me for not catching the ball. You are embarrassing me!
REQUEST: If any Alumni Teammates of Pat (or any friend of Pat) happens to read this on The Newfield Alumni Site (It will be in the In Memoriam Section and or in the Alumni Profile Section for the year 1968 at http://www.newfieldalumni.com/ ) please comment or leave a thought about Patrick Hardwicke. Thank you.
Carey Finn (1969)
The passing of Benny Abbatiello and recently the knowledge that Helen Festa too had passed were beyond sad to me. To ease my pain and honor these good people I had made the effort to remember some of them by using the memorial section of our Alumni site (www.newfieldalumni.com). I will do this for Pat Hardwicke. When I do, perhaps Patti Hardwicke (when I find her) and her family will be reaffirmed that Pat is not forgotten.
I remember a day in late summer, circa 1969 or '70, when my Dad, SCPD Officer Thomas Finn, told me of Pat's death. It bothered my Dad too, emotionally, despite his years of dealing with death.
Let me talk about Pat Hardwicke for those who knew him and for those that didn't. Inside Pat was a real future leader even if he didn't know it himself. He already was a no nonsense guy that had a tough guy reputation that may have been deserved but misinterpreted. There was a certain amount of caution that underclassman may have exercised around Pat because of his tough guy reputation. Let's just say Pat had a way of earning respect perhaps by several methods. You had to prove yourself to Pat to get his respect and getting Pat's respect was sought out.
As an underclassman you were "someone" if Pat Hardwicke would stand at your side. I proved myself to him a few times while playing on the offensive side of the football team. Perhaps the catch I made to help defeat Patchogue, 7-6 at home, eased my way. However I played offense, Pat played defense. You were still on the fringe with Pat unless you could knock someone on the ground when necessary while playing defense. I thoroughly remember the critical moment I had to prove myself to Pat. I was placed into the Wolverine defense in a critical situation at home against Port Jefferson. Again...I did not play defense unless we were in grave need of a body. The defensive huddle was run with an iron fist by Benny Russo and Pat. Before the break of the defensive huddle ended, Russo looked at me, the novice, right in the eyes and laid down the terms of my temporary employment. "Nobody gets past you. Understand? If they do...your ass is grass". Pat then pulled my facemask to his and repeated "Ass is grass"...Ready? Break! Port Jeff's play now developed. The running back breaks free past Russo and then past Pat. He's coming at me full steam near the far sideline. I'm not sure who had taken over my body and mind at that moment but whoever it was hit this full charging running back into next Tuesday. I guess this was a matter of sacrificing body simply to keep ass. When I realized I had done this, I get back to the huddle expecting some recognition. That didn't happen. I am simply reminded by Pat that my ass could still be grass while he's in charge and or until the regular, better defensive employee hopefully comes back. I had another tackle on the Port Jeff running back and knocked down a long pass attempt. The running back, for Port Jefferson was Les Goodman. He went on to play several seasons for the Green Bay Packers. We won the game. We were 14 point underdogs. Pat didn't say much to me after the game but he patted me on the back. Good enough for me. That moment for me was recognized several years later when I saw the movie BABE. Yes, you are correct. Babe is the movie about a little pig that could herd sheep better than a sheepdog. Babe, the little pig that worked his heart out for just a small amount of feeling worthy to his Master. Babe, the little pig that won the National Sheepherding Award against all odds and convention. Babe, who did this all by himself and for his Master. The pig wins it. The ending scene is of the Sheep Farmer (Master) saying the only words he ever directly said to Babe. The Master looks down at Babe and says..."That'll do, pig. That'll do." That's all the pig wanted. Those words. This was a moment in which I remembered Pat Hardwicke. When he patted my back it was “words unsaid” in the manner in which teammates communicate without saying anything. That’ll do, pig. That’ll do.
By the time spring rolled around we were close teammates on the Baseball team. Pat was the catcher and he still had a leadership role protecting the plate and controlling the pitchers. He had no trouble relinquishing the leadership of the infield to his short stop, me. Thanks for the lessons in leadership, Pat, whether you knew you were teaching or not.