Countless Harvard students have passed by his marker on Mass. Avenue. They pause before the face etched in brass, and the stern visage beneath the hard-hat peers back. His eyes search off into the distance, grimy and determined. Where is he looking? What is he feeling? And, for the love of Pete, just who is this John "Muggsie" Kelly that he rates his own monument on prime Harvard Square property, earning a momentary glance (if not a full-fledged stare) from thousands of pedestrians daily?

The attentive observer would note the inscription beneath the portrait: "He gave his life during construction/Harvard Square Station." This is certainly a major clue, if not a complete giveaway, to poor John's demise. Kelly was killed on May 18, 1982, during the extension project lengthening the MBTA Red Line through Harvard. Perhaps it is best, though, that the plaque does not go into details about the exact cause of John's death--it was a particularly nasty case. As superintendent of the project, Kelly was directing a crane, lowering an empty bucket into the excavation site for the subway tunnel. So engrossed was he in this responsibility that he failed to notice when the 25-foot crane inexplicably began to teeter. A Cambridge patrolman shouted at Kelly to "get out of the way," but noise prevented him from hearing the warning signal. The unit toppled completely, and Kelly was buried beneath 15 tons of crane.

Kelly's death, though, was not the only casualty during the Red Line extension; in fact, his was the third fatality in three years of construction. A questionable attrition rate, certainly, but even more important is the question of why "Muggsie" alone earned the distinction of a plaque bearing his name in Harvard Square. As it turns out, John Kelly's work in leading the subway construction was but one of his many accomplishments in a life that epitomized determination and spirit. Most notably, he was a veteran of the Marine Corps, first seeing active combat in Guam during World War II, then returning to service during the Korean War. The spirit of the Marines stayed with him throughout his later years. He often approached a project with the sentiment, "We do things here the Marines' way, and that way they get done right." This work ethic translated into 22 years of dedicated service at the Perini Corporation, the construction firm hired for the Red Line extension. So reliable and competent was Kelly that he was trusted with the considerable responsibility of leading the Harvard Square subway project, a major undertaking in the middle of a busy, heavily trafficked area.

Accolades for Kelly poured in upon word of his death. He was a "hard-working guy" but also a "gentleman" to many Harvard Square shopkeepers, who so often ran across him during a day's work. To Frank Cardullo, owner of Cardullo's Gourmet Shoppe & Deli on Brattle Street, where Kelly often grabbed lunch, the worker was "one great guy." Over 800 people attended his funeral, where they remembered him as a "family person, a husband, a father, and a Marine." Clearly, John Kelly made friends easily, and these friends did not wish for his name to be forgotten with the passage of time. On October 28, 1985, the three-foot high brick structure bearing his brass plate was unveiled amid a spectacular ceremony, complete with band, flag-draped platform, military color guard, and a proclamation from then-Governor Michael Dukakis. At the event, a friend of the family perfectly summed up Kelly as "a true American."

Kelly's monument still stands just outside the iron fence of Harvard Yard where Straus Hall ends. His face keeps watch on all those who pass--the students, tourists, shopkeepers, punks, and derelicts who rush to descend into the tunnels he helped to build, hopping onto the Red Line or just-muttering to themselves while wandering aimlessly, looking for a place to urinate. With the recent erection of the "Magnetic Poetry Wall," some may believe that the spirit of Harvard Square has reached its nadir, particularly if one is reading the latest attempt at actual verse or simply another adolescent-inspired phrase along the lines of "she loves purple sausage milk shoot." But personal rejuvenation lies just across Mass. Ave, where the eyes of "Muggsie" peer out into the hustle and bustle of the Square and provide hard-wrought inspiration to us all.