A Beacon of Light

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  • My name is Kevin Carroll. I was born and raised in San Francisco, California, where I attended Saint Ignatius College Preparatory. I am a graduate of both Santa Clara University and the University of San Francisco. Following a 40-year career in teaching and pastoral ministry, I launched a new career as a writer and speaker.

    I live in San José, California. My wife, Kathy, and I have three adult sons and five precious grandchildren. I have much for which to be grateful.

    I can be reached via email at kmc43sjc@gmail.com

    My books are available for purchase online from Amazon. I also have copies of some of these titles at my home for those who would like to buy them directly from me.

    A Moment’s Pause for Gratitude  (2017)

    Cherries in the Summer  (2021)

    The Ambassador of 38th Avenue  (2022)

    Dad: 12 Questions…  (2023)

    A Focus on Gratitude  (2024)

    Through the Lens of Gratitude  (2024)

    A Bahamian Odyssey (2026)

  • New Release!

    “When opportunity  
    presents itself,  
    don’t be afraid  
    to go after it.”
    Eddie Kennison

    Only in retrospect am I able to look back and recognize the amazing opportunity that was presented to me when I was twenty years old. That’s when I was invited to devote one year of my life to teaching in a high school in The Bahamas. I didn’t hesitate to accept the offer, and that has made all the difference in my life.

    I am pleased to announce that my most recent publication, A Bahamian Odyssey, is now available online from Amazon. This book details my adventures as a first-year teacher working in a Catholic high school in Nassau during the 1973-74 academic year.

    For more than fifty years, I’ve wanted to share this story. The words of author Neil Gaiman played a huge role in my finally doing so. He challenges us to tell the stories that only we can tell, “…because there will always be better writers than you and there’ll always be smarter writers than you. There will always be people who are much better at doing this or doing that, but you are the only you.” There is no one else in the entire world qualified to write this book, because it’s my unique story, my exclusive experience, so it’s up to me to write it. And now it’s finished.

    It’s liberating to know that this book does not need to be perfect. It’s not. In terms of literary quality, no doubt there are better books, yet I am confident that A Bahamian Odyssey is a valuable contribution to the literary world. John Steinbeck once said, “If there is a magic in story writing, and I’m convinced there is, no one has ever been able to reduce it to a recipe that can be passed from one person to another.” I am confident that there is magic in this book. Perhaps the magic is the simple honesty with which I have written each story. 

    It was, indeed, a magical year. I’m grateful for the opportunity to share it with readers here at home and in The Bahamas.

    Click here for detailed
    information about
    Mr. Leviticus Adderley

  • Monday, 02/16

  • Sunday, 02/15

  • Things Could Be Worse

    “There, but for
    the grace of God, 
    go I.”
    John Bradford

    I’ll be honest. I’m not exactly sure where I’m going with today’s blog post. 

    Throughout my formative years, I heard my mother repeat John Bradford’s words quoted above countless times. I don’t know if she ever knew the words were attributed to Bradford, or if she even knew who Bradford was, but that’s not important. Because of Mom’s repeated reference to these words of wisdom, they were embedded in my psyche, and became the seeds of my own passion for compassion and gratitude.

    It seems so easy for most of us to look upon those who have more than we do with some degree of envy — those who have a bigger home in a more upscale neighborhood, those who drive a nicer, more expensive car, those who travel the world in first-class accommodations. Such a mindset can cause us to look at our own lives with a sense of deprivation. We convince ourselves that we would be happier, that we would experience a greater sense of joy, if we, too, had these nicer things. 

    Well,.. maybe not.

    If we are not grateful for the things we do have, what makes us think we would be more grateful if we had more things, nicer things, things we convince ourselves might impress those around us and improve our social status?

    I came across this quote from author Brené Brown just this morning. She wrote, “We’re a nation hungry for more joy… because we’re starving from a lack of gratitude.”

    It was this statement that got me thinking about Bradford’s words. How often do we pause to reflect on the things we currently have in our lives with gratitude? How often do we think about and truly appreciate the people in our lives who love us, care for us, and challenge us to be better than we might otherwise be? 

    It’s fairly easy for us to look around the world today and notice a lack of joy. It’s just as easy for us to look at our own lives with a similar sense of deprivation and unhappiness. This is precisely why Brené Brown claims that “we’re a nation hungry for more joy.” 

    It’s imperative that we fine-tune our focus on gratitude, both for what we have in our lives and for those things that, by the grace of God, we don’t have to endure in our lives. Gratitude makes a difference! 

  • Then & Now

    “It’s not your salary  
    that makes you rich,  
    it’s your spending habits.”       
    Charles Jaffe

    Growing up in the Sunset District of San Francisco, quite often my Mom would hand me a one dollar bill and ask me to walk down to Fairlane Food Store at 39th & Vicente to pick up two half-gallons of milk. I knew she meant Foremost milk. That’s what we drank in our home. I would walk to the dairy case in the back of the store, pick up the two containers of milk, and proceed to the checkout stand. The milk would be placed in a brown paper bag, for which there was no additional charge, and I would get a few pennies back from the cashier. 

    Do you remember when candy bars at the store cost a nickel, when a glass bottle of Pepsi Cola from the vending machine near the exit was a dime, and when the price for a two-pack of Hostess cupcakes would only set you back 12¢. I do. And I remember when the cost went from 12¢ to 13¢, because no longer was I able to purchase two packs of cupcakes with my quarter. 

    Some of you will remember the price of a gallon of gasoline when you first got your driver’s license. I got my license in August 1970. My Dad would instruct me to drive up to the intersection of Portola Boulevard and Woodside Road, directly across the street from juvenile hall. There was an Arco station there that sold gas for 24.9¢/gallon. 

    On many Sunday mornings, after attending the 10:00 Mass at Saint Gabriel Church at 40th & Ulloa Streets, my Dad would hand me a buck and tell me to run up to Billy’s Donut Shop on Taraval to purchase a dozen donuts for the family breakfast. One dollar was sufficient.

    I also have pleasant memories of my Dad, slowing the car down at the toll gate on the San Francisco-Oakland Bay Bridge to allow me to drop the toll money into the unattended “hopper.” The cost was a mere quarter. And when Dad and I would attend a San Francisco Giants baseball game at Candlestick Park in the mid-60s, upper-deck reserved tickets ranged from $2.50 to $3.50.

    I guess I could go on and on about how things have changed, how the cost of everything has skyrocketed, and reminisce about how things were in “the good old days.” I will refrain from doing so, however, because that was then and this is now. It’s 2026. I’ll turn 72-years-old in June. I like where I am in my life. Certainly, things are not perfect in the world or in my life, but I am grateful for what is. 

    Whether we look back to the days of our youth or examine our lives as they are today, we have the option to do so through the lens of gratitude. Those were some good times, but these times are pretty good, too. 

  • Refueling

    When I returned from The City on Friday evening, I realized I’d hit my max. I went to bed at around 7:00 PM. I remember waking up a few times, but I didn’t get up on Saturday until almost 1:00 PM. This is not normal… for me.

    I had something to eat, then sat in the recliner in my office and fell asleep until 5:00 PM. After dinner, I was back in bed. Sunday and Monday were very much like Saturday.

    Fortunately, I have nothing on my calendar this week. Nothing! What a stroke of luck. I’m grateful for the opportunity to just stay home and take care of myself.

  • It’s a Choice

    “Let us be quicker 
    to thank others 
    than to complain.” 
    Desmond Tutu

    How long does it take to write a thank you note? It helps, of course, to have a good supply of blank thank you notes in your desk drawer, but a simple note of gratitude can be written anytime on anything — a card, a sheet of binder paper, a Post-It note, even on a napkin. When we take the time to express our gratitude to someone, it makes a positive impact on their lives — and on ours.

    I recently took my car in for routine service. The service advisor was friendly, polite, and professional. When I got home, I used the business card I was given to write a simple note of gratitude for the pleasant experience I’d had at the shop.

    When I opened a new checking and savings account at a local bank recently, the service was over the top. Several of the employees stepped-in to answer questions, explain options, and make certain that I was satisfied with the help they offered. When I returned home, I wrote three quick thank you notes and put them in the mail.

    I’ve written thank you notes to my dentist, cardiologist, barber, optician, insurance agent, publisher, plumber, and garage door repairman. I’ve sent notes of gratitude to my neighbors, friends, former students, classmates, colleagues, mentors, and local business owners. For this reason, I always keep a healthy supply of thank you notes in the middle drawer of my desk in my home office. 

    I mentioned that sending someone a note of appreciation makes a positive impact on them — and on us. I’m not around when the recipient opens my note and reads my words of gratitude, but I would think that such an expression of gratefulness would brighten their day. As for me, the joy is in the writing and sending of the note. I get an overwhelming sense of satisfaction taking the time to express my gratitude to others. It’s definitely a win-win situation.

    It seems that it has become all-too-common for people to voice their displeasure with others. I observe evidence of this almost every day. Sure, they might feel justified in letting the other person know how incompetent, ignorant, or unprofessional they are, but is it really necessary to verbalize such displeasure, often in a public venue?

    Here’s another invitation and challenge: For two weeks, actively seek opportunities to write notes of gratitude to those who are doing things well, those who treat us with kindness, those who care for others when they are unable to care for themselves. Take the time to write the note and mail it. My guess is that, in doing so, you will be motivated to do it more often. 

    Gratitude makes a difference!

     

  • End of an Era

    “The song is ended, 
    but the memory 
    lingers on.”  
    Irving Berlin

    She was the last of her generation to be born. Last night, she became the last of her generation to die. Sister Eileen Healy, B.V.M. passed away at the motherhouse of her order in Dubuque, Iowa at the age of 90. 

    Eileen was one of my mother’s cousins. Her father and my Mom’s mother were siblings. They were the foundation of a large, Irish-Catholic family in San Francisco. 

    It took me a while to get to know Eileen. In my early childhood, she had already entered the sisterhood, so she wasn’t around much. All I knew of her was gleaned from a photo of her in the living room of her parents’ home. I had been told that the photo was of Sister Mary Patrick Ellen. Years later, I met Sister Eileen Healy. I don’t recall how long it took for me to realize that they were the same person.

    I will be forever grateful to have known so many from her generation and that of her parents. Growing up knowing extended family members is something I took for granted throughout most of my life. In recent years, having attended the funerals of so many of them, I came to appreciate what a gift it was to have known them.

    With Eileen’s passing last night, the generation of my parents in our family has come to an end. No longer is there a buffer between us Baby Boomers and death. For some, this might beg the question, “Who’s next?” I prefer not to think about this.

    I remember my Aunt Lucille. At a number of weddings I attended prior to my own, Lucille would come up to me at some point during the reception, pinch my cheek, and say, “You’re next!” I’m sure she meant well, but I never appreciated that exchange. I was tempted, at a few family funerals prior to Lucille’s, to walk up to her at the reception, pinch her cheek, and say, “You’re next!” I thought better of it. Lucille was too sweet of a person for me to do such a thing.

    I don’t know what it’s like to arrive in Heaven. Hopefully, some day I will. Until such time, I will continue to embrace the images I picked up from hearing my parents and grandparents speaking about the reunion that takes place in Heaven when a loved one dies. According to the lessons I learned, right about now, Eileen is sitting at a table with her parents, her siblings, and a number of other family members enjoying a cup of hot tea, some warm Irish soda bread, and some long overdue conversation. 

    With Eileen’s passing, we are now the elders. 

  • Ice Cream!

    “Ice cream brings 
    people together.” 
    Doug Ducey

    I visit downtown Campbell fairly often, especially during the warmer summer months. Like the downtowns of San Mateo, Burlingame, San Carlos, Mountain View, and Los Altos, downtown Campbell has its own unique charm. 

    There are a number of restaurants I enjoy — Aqui, Sushi Confidential, Trattoria 360, Stack’s, and El Guapo’s. And, as I mentioned in my blog post two days ago, I thoroughly enjoy hanging out at the Orchard Valley Coffee Shop. I would be remiss, however, if I didn’t recognize my favorite dessert venue.

    The Campbell Creamery has been a fixture on East Campbell Avenue for as long as I can remember. To get a scoop of ice cream, on a cone or in a cup, on a warm summer or autumn day, is one of life’s little pleasures. On Thursday afternoon, with the temperature registering 75º, I sat at a table outside the shop and savored every bite of a cup of black marble raspberry ice cream. It was a delightful experience of summertime — in February.

    I ended up sharing the small table with Jeremy, an elderly gentleman who lives in downtown San José. He was in Campbell for a medical appointment and couldn’t resist the allure of the Campbell Creamery. We had a delightful conversation, two older gentlemen, strangers at the start, who bonded, ever so briefly, while enjoying a cup of ice cream.

    Apparently, Doug Ducey, the former governor of Arizona, knew what he was talking about when he said, “Ice cream brings people together.”

    It most certainly does. 

    The next time I’m there, I’m going to check to see if they have vanilla fudge twirl ice cream.

  • Embracing the Unknown

    “Life, if lived well,
    is long enough.” 
    Seneca

    It’s a sobering thought to realize that while you were waking up this morning, someone else was taking their last breath. That’s the reality most of us overlook every day. I’m not preoccupied with death, and I don’t worry about the inevitability of my own demise, but every now and then, I am reminded of my mortality. Today is one of those days, as I attend the funeral service for another one of my elementary school classmates at Saint Ignatius Church on the campus of the University of San Francisco.

    Jeanette Stark was a member of the Class of 1968 at Saint Gabriel School in The City. She was born a little more than one month after me in 1954. I’m guessing that today’s funeral service is being held at Saint Ignatius Church because of Jeanette’s affiliation with the University of San Francisco, where she earned her degree in nursing. In my lifetime, I’ve been to countless funerals, but not that many have been for people my age. I suspect this will become a more regular occurrence as I continue to get older.

    Occasions like this are reminders for us to be grateful for each day we are given. We never know when our time will come. Tomorrow is promised to no one. This is precisely why I make a concerted effort to see each day through the lens of gratitude, because each day truly is a gift.

    Songwriter and entertainer Carole King’s words resonate quite well with me. She said, “If you were to ask me to sum up my life in one word: Gratitude.”

    It doesn’t get much better than that.