Tom and I attended the same high school and university. Although he was two years older than I, I got to know him quite well, especially when we were at St. Louis University. At times he gave me a ride to St. Louis U, which was a great convenience, as I had to take two buses from East St. Louis to get to school. I sat next to him in one course, Orthogonal Functions and Boundary Value Problems. I struggled to understand, but Tom seemed to grasp the concepts with very little effort. But you know, as I do, that he was a brilliant man, certainly one of the most brilliant men I have ever known. All of the McEvillys were noted for their intelligence. Tom's brother Bob attended Cornell with my brother John, who often told me of Bob's brilliance. Tom's cousin, Father Jack McEvilly, who conducted the funeral service for Tom, has the reputation of being the most intelligent priest in his diocese (he would deny that, of course, but it's true). During our student days, Tom and I would attend engineering society meetings in the evening, then we would adjourn to the bar across the street, where Tom would regale us with tales of his doodlebugging days.

At Tom's funeral, I talked with Andy Gregowicz, a high-school classmate of Tom's and a retired pathologist. He told me Tom was one of the most fun-loving friends he had had in high school. Andy elaborated on this statement by telling me several funny anecdotes about Tom. By the way, Tom's high-school class was remarkable. It produced one PhD, three physicians, and at least one lawyer. Not bad for a small class (probably around 80 students) from a small parochial high school, not known for producing scholars, in an industrial city of dubious reputation.

My wife (who is also from East St. Louis) and I have always said that the best people in the workd come from East St. Louis. Tom certainly gives credence to that statement.