"It would hurt us more than 99 percent of the people if the yard were to close," Bill says on a recent night when the couple could afford to relax in their Kittery living room for a few hours, and reflect on their years at the yard and their years together.

The couple lived on the yard from 1971 until 1979, when Bill was stationed there. He later served as its commander. When he retired from the Navy, the McDonoughs became permanent Kittery residents. Their home is less than a mile from one of the yard’s gates.

A few of their daughters are married to men who worked at the yard, and now some of the McDonoughs’ grandchildren are employed by the nation’s oldest shipyard. So when it was first threatened in 1993, Bill says the only option was to step up to the plate and become the leader in working to save the yard from closing. For three rounds of the Defense Department’s base realignment and closure process, Bill has provided the expertise behind the fight to keep the yard open.

On May 13, that fight came to another level, when the yard was recommended for closure by the Defense Department, a move that threatens more than 4,800 workers and the McDonough family. Bill has taken on the role of spokesman for the Seacoast Shipyard Association, the yard’s advocacy group. He’s been interviewed and quoted in hundreds of articles for publications ranging from the Portsmouth Herald to the Washington Post. He also sits on the Save Our Shipyard task force.

Nancy is the silent partner. Wearing her yellow Save Our Shipyard T-shirt, she often sits in the back of meetings. She answers the flood of phone calls from the congressional delegation and the press. She marks the calendar with important dates, and when things get really bad, she heads to the kitchen and cooks. Bill calls his wife "one of the victims," of the Defense Department’s recommendation to close the Portsmouth Naval Shipyard.

"Because it has not been an easy few months since the list came out," he says.

"We try hard," Nancy says, with a smile, of her marriage.

They have accumulated many memories over the years. When they met in 1946, at Milne High School in New York, they knew they wanted to have a large family.

What they didn’t know was that family would consist of seven daughters, most of who were born in different cities, depending on where Bill was stationed in the Navy.

"We’ve made it this far," Nancy says, laughing. "Some days I wondered, but we’ve made it this far."

"We went through seven colleges, seven marriages," Bill says of his daughters.

Now, their fireplace mantle is lined with the framed photographs of their 19 grandchildren. When asked how it was raising seven daughters, Bill says, "It’s easy."

"Oh, baloney," Nancy shouts.

Now that their daughters are grown, the past 12 of their 55 years together have centered on the fight to keep the Portsmouth Naval Shipyard open.

They’ve made it through other tough times, and they feel confident they’ll make it through this.

"He’s gone basically all the time," Nancy says. "If we make it through this, we’ll make it."

She paused for a moment, before asking, "Right, Bill?"

Her husband looks at her, smiles and says, "That’s correct."

By Elizabeth Kenny
ekenny@seacoastonline.com

This is one in a series of Monday profiles in the Portsmouth Herald on shipyard workers and their loved ones and how their lives have changed since the Defense Department recommended the closure of the Portsmouth Naval Shipyard.

Ealier Profiles:
Yard closure would scatter local family
Yard a home to vets
Worried yard workers ‘all in the same boat’
Kittery couple sees shipyard work as means to help end world hunger
Shifting his roots
Young shipyard advocate
Welder finds a purpose in life: His job at shipyard

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