Robert Melvin "Bob" McGuiggan: 29 September 1922 to 01 August 2006
Survived sea ordeal in World War II as Robert McGuiggan floated in the shark-infested South Pacific after his ship was sunk in July 1945, he followed a simple rule.
"I never looked down," Mr. McGuiggan said decades later. "Everybody who looked down went crazy."
One of about 900 men stranded after a Japanese torpedo felled the USS Indianapolis, Mr. McGuiggan was among more than 300 survivors who had to tread water for almost five days.
After his discharge from the Navy, Mr. McGuiggan returned home to Chicago, laid bricks for a living and started a family. But he remained fiercely identified with his ordeal on the Indianapolis, reuniting regularly with fellow survivors and always flying an American flag in front of his home.
Mr. McGuiggan never minded discussing his harrowing 4 1/2 days, but he rarely told the whole story in one sitting, family said. Instead, he told parts: the panic around him, curling into a cannonball to be less inviting to sharks and how his captain, who later committed suicide, was unfairly court-martialed, accused of not taking evasive action.
"There was joy at his survival, but anguish ... in his dreams," said his son, Thomas McGuiggan. "But dad never considered it luck. It was grace. It was meant to be. An act of God."
Known to friends and family as Bob, Mr. McGuiggan, 83, was found dead Tuesday, Aug. 1, at his Northwest Side home of heat-related causes.
Born in Minneapolis, Mr. McGuiggan moved as a boy to McHenry County and then to Chicago, where he spent much of the rest of his life. He was the oldest of six.
Mr. McGuiggan met his future wife, Gloria, while attending Lake View High School but enlisted in the Navy, where he spent four years, before marrying her. The defining passage of his service was the saga on the Indianapolis, after he had become engaged.
The ship had carried almost 1,200 men when it went down in the Pacific. Scattered over a 200-mile radius, the survivors floated in the hot sun amid circling sharks while awaiting help. About 200 men, including McGuiggan, found one another in the water. And they depended on one another with prayer and small talk to survive. Of those 200, only 16 were still alive when rescue came.
Longtime friend Michael Kuryla Jr., 80, who also survived the sinking, said Mr. McGuiggan survived by thinking of his future wife.
"He thought of her a lot," Kuryla said. "And he didn't give up. Some fellows felt we weren't going to be rescued and gave up. He wouldn't."
After his discharge in 1946, Mr. McGuiggan married his high school sweetheart, and the couple settled in the Lakeview neighborhood. He went to work as an auto mechanic and briefly owned a gas station before following his stepfather as a bricklayer.
He worked on the John Hancock Center, the Sears Tower--where he labored on every floor--and Marina Towers.
Though not particularly tall, years of laying bricks made Mr. McGuiggan a strong man with powerful hands, his son said. He also remained a devoted father to his two sons.
"My dad came home dead tired most nights, but he drove me 18 miles one way to go to Boy Scouts every Friday night from when I was 11 to the time I graduated high school," his son said.
Kuryla said Mr. McGuiggan remained "a happy-go-lucky guy" and was "a fine family man" even as he struggled with memories of the Indianapolis.
"We all had problems after that," he said. "It never goes away. You think of all those men who died, and I know Bob thought about them too."
Other survivors include his wife; a sister, Joyce Goulding; a brother, Harold; and two grandchildren.
Published in the 'Chicago Tribune, August 09, 2006
Survived sea ordeal in World War II as Robert McGuiggan floated in the shark-infested South Pacific after his ship was sunk in July 1945, he followed a simple rule.
"I never looked down," Mr. McGuiggan said decades later. "Everybody who looked down went crazy."
One of about 900 men stranded after a Japanese torpedo felled the USS Indianapolis, Mr. McGuiggan was among more than 300 survivors who had to tread water for almost five days.
After his discharge from the Navy, Mr. McGuiggan returned home to Chicago, laid bricks for a living and started a family. But he remained fiercely identified with his ordeal on the Indianapolis, reuniting regularly with fellow survivors and always flying an American flag in front of his home.
Mr. McGuiggan never minded discussing his harrowing 4 1/2 days, but he rarely told the whole story in one sitting, family said. Instead, he told parts: the panic around him, curling into a cannonball to be less inviting to sharks and how his captain, who later committed suicide, was unfairly court-martialed, accused of not taking evasive action.
"There was joy at his survival, but anguish ... in his dreams," said his son, Thomas McGuiggan. "But dad never considered it luck. It was grace. It was meant to be. An act of God."
Known to friends and family as Bob, Mr. McGuiggan, 83, was found dead Tuesday, Aug. 1, at his Northwest Side home of heat-related causes.
Born in Minneapolis, Mr. McGuiggan moved as a boy to McHenry County and then to Chicago, where he spent much of the rest of his life. He was the oldest of six.
Mr. McGuiggan met his future wife, Gloria, while attending Lake View High School but enlisted in the Navy, where he spent four years, before marrying her. The defining passage of his service was the saga on the Indianapolis, after he had become engaged.
The ship had carried almost 1,200 men when it went down in the Pacific. Scattered over a 200-mile radius, the survivors floated in the hot sun amid circling sharks while awaiting help. About 200 men, including McGuiggan, found one another in the water. And they depended on one another with prayer and small talk to survive. Of those 200, only 16 were still alive when rescue came.
Longtime friend Michael Kuryla Jr., 80, who also survived the sinking, said Mr. McGuiggan survived by thinking of his future wife.
"He thought of her a lot," Kuryla said. "And he didn't give up. Some fellows felt we weren't going to be rescued and gave up. He wouldn't."
After his discharge in 1946, Mr. McGuiggan married his high school sweetheart, and the couple settled in the Lakeview neighborhood. He went to work as an auto mechanic and briefly owned a gas station before following his stepfather as a bricklayer.
He worked on the John Hancock Center, the Sears Tower--where he labored on every floor--and Marina Towers.
Though not particularly tall, years of laying bricks made Mr. McGuiggan a strong man with powerful hands, his son said. He also remained a devoted father to his two sons.
"My dad came home dead tired most nights, but he drove me 18 miles one way to go to Boy Scouts every Friday night from when I was 11 to the time I graduated high school," his son said.
Kuryla said Mr. McGuiggan remained "a happy-go-lucky guy" and was "a fine family man" even as he struggled with memories of the Indianapolis.
"We all had problems after that," he said. "It never goes away. You think of all those men who died, and I know Bob thought about them too."
Other survivors include his wife; a sister, Joyce Goulding; a brother, Harold; and two grandchildren.
Published in the 'Chicago Tribune, August 09, 2006
Robert Melvin "Bob" McGuiggan: 29 September 1922 to 01 August 2006
Survived sea ordeal in World War II as Robert McGuiggan floated in the shark-infested South Pacific after his ship was sunk in July 1945, he followed a simple rule.
"I never looked down," Mr. McGuiggan said decades later. "Everybody who looked down went crazy."
One of about 900 men stranded after a Japanese torpedo felled the USS Indianapolis, Mr. McGuiggan was among more than 300 survivors who had to tread water for almost five days.
After his discharge from the Navy, Mr. McGuiggan returned home to Chicago, laid bricks for a living and started a family. But he remained fiercely identified with his ordeal on the Indianapolis, reuniting regularly with fellow survivors and always flying an American flag in front of his home.
Mr. McGuiggan never minded discussing his harrowing 4 1/2 days, but he rarely told the whole story in one sitting, family said. Instead, he told parts: the panic around him, curling into a cannonball to be less inviting to sharks and how his captain, who later committed suicide, was unfairly court-martialed, accused of not taking evasive action.
"There was joy at his survival, but anguish ... in his dreams," said his son, Thomas McGuiggan. "But dad never considered it luck. It was grace. It was meant to be. An act of God."
Known to friends and family as Bob, Mr. McGuiggan, 83, was found dead Tuesday, Aug. 1, at his Northwest Side home of heat-related causes.
Born in Minneapolis, Mr. McGuiggan moved as a boy to McHenry County and then to Chicago, where he spent much of the rest of his life. He was the oldest of six.
Mr. McGuiggan met his future wife, Gloria, while attending Lake View High School but enlisted in the Navy, where he spent four years, before marrying her. The defining passage of his service was the saga on the Indianapolis, after he had become engaged.
The ship had carried almost 1,200 men when it went down in the Pacific. Scattered over a 200-mile radius, the survivors floated in the hot sun amid circling sharks while awaiting help. About 200 men, including McGuiggan, found one another in the water. And they depended on one another with prayer and small talk to survive. Of those 200, only 16 were still alive when rescue came.
Longtime friend Michael Kuryla Jr., 80, who also survived the sinking, said Mr. McGuiggan survived by thinking of his future wife.
"He thought of her a lot," Kuryla said. "And he didn't give up. Some fellows felt we weren't going to be rescued and gave up. He wouldn't."
After his discharge in 1946, Mr. McGuiggan married his high school sweetheart, and the couple settled in the Lakeview neighborhood. He went to work as an auto mechanic and briefly owned a gas station before following his stepfather as a bricklayer.
He worked on the John Hancock Center, the Sears Tower--where he labored on every floor--and Marina Towers.
Though not particularly tall, years of laying bricks made Mr. McGuiggan a strong man with powerful hands, his son said. He also remained a devoted father to his two sons.
"My dad came home dead tired most nights, but he drove me 18 miles one way to go to Boy Scouts every Friday night from when I was 11 to the time I graduated high school," his son said.
Kuryla said Mr. McGuiggan remained "a happy-go-lucky guy" and was "a fine family man" even as he struggled with memories of the Indianapolis.
"We all had problems after that," he said. "It never goes away. You think of all those men who died, and I know Bob thought about them too."
Other survivors include his wife; a sister, Joyce Goulding; a brother, Harold; and two grandchildren.
Published in the 'Chicago Tribune, August 09, 2006
Survived sea ordeal in World War II as Robert McGuiggan floated in the shark-infested South Pacific after his ship was sunk in July 1945, he followed a simple rule.
"I never looked down," Mr. McGuiggan said decades later. "Everybody who looked down went crazy."
One of about 900 men stranded after a Japanese torpedo felled the USS Indianapolis, Mr. McGuiggan was among more than 300 survivors who had to tread water for almost five days.
After his discharge from the Navy, Mr. McGuiggan returned home to Chicago, laid bricks for a living and started a family. But he remained fiercely identified with his ordeal on the Indianapolis, reuniting regularly with fellow survivors and always flying an American flag in front of his home.
Mr. McGuiggan never minded discussing his harrowing 4 1/2 days, but he rarely told the whole story in one sitting, family said. Instead, he told parts: the panic around him, curling into a cannonball to be less inviting to sharks and how his captain, who later committed suicide, was unfairly court-martialed, accused of not taking evasive action.
"There was joy at his survival, but anguish ... in his dreams," said his son, Thomas McGuiggan. "But dad never considered it luck. It was grace. It was meant to be. An act of God."
Known to friends and family as Bob, Mr. McGuiggan, 83, was found dead Tuesday, Aug. 1, at his Northwest Side home of heat-related causes.
Born in Minneapolis, Mr. McGuiggan moved as a boy to McHenry County and then to Chicago, where he spent much of the rest of his life. He was the oldest of six.
Mr. McGuiggan met his future wife, Gloria, while attending Lake View High School but enlisted in the Navy, where he spent four years, before marrying her. The defining passage of his service was the saga on the Indianapolis, after he had become engaged.
The ship had carried almost 1,200 men when it went down in the Pacific. Scattered over a 200-mile radius, the survivors floated in the hot sun amid circling sharks while awaiting help. About 200 men, including McGuiggan, found one another in the water. And they depended on one another with prayer and small talk to survive. Of those 200, only 16 were still alive when rescue came.
Longtime friend Michael Kuryla Jr., 80, who also survived the sinking, said Mr. McGuiggan survived by thinking of his future wife.
"He thought of her a lot," Kuryla said. "And he didn't give up. Some fellows felt we weren't going to be rescued and gave up. He wouldn't."
After his discharge in 1946, Mr. McGuiggan married his high school sweetheart, and the couple settled in the Lakeview neighborhood. He went to work as an auto mechanic and briefly owned a gas station before following his stepfather as a bricklayer.
He worked on the John Hancock Center, the Sears Tower--where he labored on every floor--and Marina Towers.
Though not particularly tall, years of laying bricks made Mr. McGuiggan a strong man with powerful hands, his son said. He also remained a devoted father to his two sons.
"My dad came home dead tired most nights, but he drove me 18 miles one way to go to Boy Scouts every Friday night from when I was 11 to the time I graduated high school," his son said.
Kuryla said Mr. McGuiggan remained "a happy-go-lucky guy" and was "a fine family man" even as he struggled with memories of the Indianapolis.
"We all had problems after that," he said. "It never goes away. You think of all those men who died, and I know Bob thought about them too."
Other survivors include his wife; a sister, Joyce Goulding; a brother, Harold; and two grandchildren.
Published in the 'Chicago Tribune, August 09, 2006
