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The Man
Joe and Athena
The love of his life
Joe - A National Champion
Ollie and Bishop
Joe and Athena (USC vs. UA)
Joe singing
Most loyal Trojan ever
Joe - high school swimming
80's Party
Doing exactly what he wanted
Da Boyz
Class of 02 at Christmas Party
Joe and Gausman
Joe and Jay
Graduation
Laughing at Sharkeez
Hulk Hogan to the left
Boys in DC
Joe in the Army
70's Party
Joe and the little bird
Joe at SC
Rose Bowl 2007
Erik and Joe at Pan Pacs
Joe and Josh
4 comments:
Thank you so much for arranging this blog site. I'm so deeply saddened with the news of Joe's passing.
Joe was my swim coach at Glassell Park with SCAQ.
He was so loyal and devoted to our little group. I almost felt embarassed. He was such an accomplished swimmer. You could tell just by looking at him.
I used to ask him during workouts how 'the real swimmers' would do it - or 'the big people' and asked time after time if he would get in the water with us so we could watch him swim.
He wouldn't. He stayed on deck. Where the coach should be.
300 swim, 300 pull, 300 kick he'd mumble. It was the warm-up. Every Monday, Wednesday and Friday in the dim dawn light. I can hear him call it out, right now.
He'd kneel down on deck and tell us the main set. I saw small silver medals dangling from a chain hanging loosley from his neck. I asked him about those medals one practice. He told me about them with reverence.
We'd get our marching orders and take off.
As we'd swim I'd steel a glance. I'd see him looking toward the hills in the distance. He seemed to be planning. Thinking, intensely. He would walk over to the steps in the shallow area of the pool and use the railings for dips and presses like they were parallel bars building his biceps and triceps - they were already bulging.
He was quiet. He was focused.
He was restless.
I could feel it.
He had a greater path. He seemed frustrated with the corporate recruiting gig he took off to after he'd coach.
In conversation, he mentioned he started running five miles before he would come to coach us. I worried about him. Like a mother hen. One of our SCAQ coaches was killed that way running in the dark on his way to coach a practice. It was a hard loss.
Then one day Joe quietly announced he'd be leaving soon as our coach. He was entering the Special Forces. I could see a smirk of a grin eeking out the corner of his mouth.
'Oh NO, JOE!" I remembering blurting it out. I couldn't control myself. I couldn't believe he was doing this - the Iraq war was on. How could he do it? I feared for my three brothers as I was growing up when the Vietnam War was on - plotting on how I'd get them all out of the country and to Canada. Joe couldn't do this, it was way too dangerous.
But Joe, he had a bigger plan and greater focus. His love of country and demands on self were so great.
I almost felt ashamed with my own feelings of war and sending men and women to combat.
He was determined. I slowly realized this was not a fast fly by night decision. I still felt sad.
As the day neared for his departure he gave me a surprise.
At the end of the workout he stripped down to his black speedo, adjusted his goggles and without words, he showed me. He showed me how 'the big people' swim. How 'the real swimmers' do it.
I'll never forget it as long as I live.
I'd never seen such power and smooth beauty in the water. He was in his world. He was totally at ease. I'd never seen him before in this comfort zone. He was so exquisite. So at peace moving like butter back and forth. Up and down that black line.
We said our goodbyes.
I'd ask about Joe when I'd see someone who knew Joe - Seth, his former USC teamate, SCAQ office workers.
Nervously, I'd scan the LA Sunday Times with apprehension, praying never to see his name listed in troops downed in action. Praying for those who'd given their lives. I'd send thoughts Joe's way for his happiness, for his safety.
And then the SCAQ email came last week delivering the horrific news.
The loss is beyond words. So tragic doesn't even to seem to fit.
I stopped in my tracks hoping I had misread the name on my computer screen.
Not Joe. Not this way, not now. PLEASE.
My prayers and thoughts are with all of his family, his friends, and his fellow Special Forces Officers.
I'll carry him in my heart.
I'll not forget the contribution he so gracefully gave to me, to my fellow SCAQ teamates.
And when I'm in the pool feeling breathless, I'll push through it in memory of Joe.
I love you dear one. Be at peace.
Always,
Susan (Gold) Bartok
When I saw the news, I did not connect it with the Joe that coached us at Culver City, the quiet, but jovial and somewhat intense guy that I came to be friends with. I remember Joe giving these absolutely killer workouts and just as he announced thte set, he would chuckle a little under his breath and laugh in that sly way he always did, realizing how hard it would be. My frirnd Stuart Vance and I would always abuse him in a playful way and he would give it right back to us, always a good sport and a good guy. I am both stunned and saddened by the loss. My thoughts and prayers are with Joe and his family.
I have never met Joe Curreri.
My relationship with Joe is based upon stories told to me by my friend and coach, Brad Schertle, who was a teammate with Joe in high school. I could always tell Brad looked up to Joe, from the way his eyes lit up when telling me a story about Joe's accomplishments in and out of the pool. Brad would tell me these stories to motivate me in practice, teaching me life lessons in the process. We owe our water polo team to Joe, who created it in his senior year, as well as our tradition of the hundred mile swim, which Joe created to raise money to buy water polo balls and goals for our pool.
I continue to chase Joe's accomplishments, both moral and physical. I feel his loss as though he were a lifetime friend to me.
Rest in peace Joe, friend to many, inspiration to all, and a true Loyola Don.
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