The most extraordinary thing about rock icon Cory Wells is that he was so darn ordinary.

That is not easy, given that Cory was a wildly popular lead singer for Three Dog Night, a rock group that during its heyday in the ’70s outgrossed the likes of Elvis Presley and the Rolling Stones.

An original member, Cory continued to tour with the band until two months before his death last October. When not criss-crossing the country, one would likely find him at his lakefront home in Dunkirk, where he dwelt privately and without fanfare, for the last 20 years of his life.

Why Dunkirk?

Cory had the means to live anywhere in the country, so why Dunkirk? But after a glimpse into the man and his lifestyle, the more appropriate question might be, “Why NOT Dunkirk?”

Daughter Dawn Wells-Cussins explained that the Dunkirk community had everything her father was looking for after his ranch home in Malibu (that formerly belonged to Nelson Riddle) was lost to a wildfire on Nov. 2, 1993.

“Dad wanted to live on the water – it was one of his dreams.”

Originally from Buffalo, Cory and his wife, the former Mary Catalano, desired to be close – but not too close – to parents and other family members.

In fact, they lived with relatives in Buffalo for two years while traveling the lakefront from Buffalo to Barcelona in search of the perfect piece of property.

The quest ended in Dunkirk when a suitable lakefront home became available, for the first time making it possible for Cory to launch his boat “Shambala” from his own property – a fisherman’s dream!

“He loved that he could push his boat off his own property and go out and fish,” Dawn said. “It was free and he could feel free.” She added that her dad was of the frugal mindset to not have to pay for something that is part of nature. “In California, he always needed multiple permits to fish – and boating in California drove him nuts. They tried to suck him dry.”

A doting grandfather, Cory also wanted a home that came with plenty of land for his grandchildren to play on. An ideal place for the grandkids remained a top priority which fortunately the Dunkirk property met.

After purchasing the house, he had it cut in half and then added about 2,500 feet, customizing the residence to include a den, music and workout areas, and a bedroom suite.

An ‘exceptional’ rock star

In the surreal rock music world of the ’70s and beyond, Cory’s lifestyle was a refreshing, squeaky-clean exception. He didn’t drink, smoke or do drugs. For him, “party like a rock star” meant early to bed and up at 4 a.m. to go fishing.

“My father was adamant about not promoting alcohol,” Dawn said. “If any beer or liquor company approached him to use any of his songs, he would say, ‘Absolutely not!’ even though he stood to lose a great deal of money.”

And although the baby-faced lead singer continued to be the heartthrob of countless female fans as Three Dog Night played to soldout ballparks and other massive venues, he remained a loving and devoted husband to his bride of 50 years – a Buffalo gal he had known since she was 12 years old.

In his golden years, Cory craved privacy, seeking a community where he could simply blend in. He shunned adulation and recognition, not wanting to be singled out as a celebrity and went to great lengths to remain anonymous within the community.

“My dad never dressed up,” Dawn noted. “He was always in sweatpants and dark glasses. He did not want to be known.”

This resulted in an interesting encounter right off the bat, according to his daughter. As a new arrival in town, Cory’s car broke down. He didn’t know the area too well, but found his way to Jim Nichols Hometown Service where the owner looked at him at first “like he was some kind of hobo.”

They became fast friends, however, as Cory and Mary relied on Jim and his wife Nancy for advice such as the best dining and boating establishments in town. Jim Nichols was Cory’s first friend in the Dunkirk area and remained his best friend during his 20-year stay here. Not surprisingly, they shared a passion for fishing.

In the Wells’ immediate neighborhood, people found out on their own who their new neighbors were. Many had moved in recently themselves. Some neighbors introduced themselves; others didn’t know who Cory was until he died. And the world-renowned entertainer continued to guard his privacy.

Occasionally, a fan would get word of Cory living in the area as witnessed by cars driving slowly by his residence. Dawn relates that one time her dad was puttering around outside doing yard work when a car pulled up.

“Is this where Cory Wells lives?,” the driver asked him.

“I wouldn’t know,” Cory replied. “I’m just the gardener.”

A soft-hearted animal lover, he could never bring himself to turn away a stray cat. The Wells were more often than not a multiple-cat household with Mary initially taking in the homeless felines. “Dad did understand the cause though,” Dawn said, “because they kept coming to his door.” For one feral cat, Cory ordered a special window installed in his basement and had a special plug run so the cat could have a heating pad under the deck for frigid days.

A typical small-town day

Since Dawn had lived at her parents’ Dunkirk home for a time, she was able to describe first-hand a typical small-town day in the life of her famous father.

“Most mornings, my dad would get up and fix himself a cup of coffee. It would get cold, he’d put it in the microwave, leave it there and then wonder where his coffee was. He’d answer his emails on his computer then head off to the Dunkirk post office to pick up his mail. He enjoyed chit-chatting with the workers there, all of whom knew and protected his identity.

“He would then run errands, sometimes stopping along the way to say hello to little Angelina, the Nichols’ granddaughter. Lunch with my mother might find them at the Brick Room, Clarion, White Inn or White Village. Evenings my dad would unwind with a couple of friends and play strategic war games – he was a serious gamer. On some days, he would go to the grocery store, pharmacy – anything you did in your life, he had to do for himself as well. Just a typical, boring life like everybody has, I guess.”

In the summer, Cory was usually away doing concerts, but if he had a precious couple days off, he would seize the moment to go fishing. He had a soft spot in his heart for children with cancer and taught some of them how to fly fish. When Cory’s grandkids were over, he also taught them how to fly fish, use a bow and arrow and even hunt for buried treasure on the beach.

A Polish family man

Born Emil Lewandowski, Cory left the east side of Buffalo at a young age, but his Polish upbringing remained intact – if somewhat dormant. All that changed when he met Dunkirk resident and current city assessor, Tom Mleczko, four years ago.

Tom had learned through a neighbor of Cory’s that he needed some work done on his house. While doing these odd jobs, Cory and Tom discovered they had a common bond in their Polish heritage.

A baby boomer, Tom was very familiar with Cory’s band, which took the rock world by storm in the early ’70s and had continued to retain its popularity. He found a marked contrast between the fame and celebrity of Three Dog Night and his newfound friend.

“Cory was just an average Joe,” Tom reminisced. “He stayed out of the limelight. He would go shopping around town and 99 percent of the people did not know who he was. When I found out Cory was Polish, we got to talking about the old traditions, like making the sausage, then taking the Swienconka basket to church to be blessed.”

It seems the two Polish buddies had both grown up listening to the Stan “Stas” Jasinski polka party on WWOL radio. Cory was amazed the traditions he knew as a child were still being carried on here and people were still doing them and putting the time into it. He was interested in participating, but because of his schedule, he did not have the opportunity through the years.

“There’s not too many butter lambs in Southern California,” Cory was quick to point out.

An accomplished cook, Tom would often take over some homemade sausage, golabki, pierogi and coffee cakes to Cory’s house at Eastertime. He recalled a voicemail from Cory the one time he sent over a ring of kishka. “Tom, it’s Cory. Hey, how do you cook this kishka stuff? I haven’t had that in fifty years.”

One of Tom’s fondest memories is Cory, a devout Catholic, joining him for an early Easter Sunday Mass and singing the “Our Father” alongside him. Tom added he was shocked to see Cory, who had waited in his car in the church parking lot until he spotted him.

Both fathers of two daughters, their conversations focused on being dads, raising kids and having grandkids, with Cory expressing how nice it would be to raise kids in this area because it was such a close-knit community.

“Cory and Mary were both just really easy people to talk to because they were just regular people,” Tom summarized. “They were very private people and they liked their privacy. That’s why they liked it here. Nobody bothered them. With Cory, everything was on an even keel, everything had its place but nothing took the place of Mary or the family – daughters Dawn Wells-Cussins and Corrie Wells-La Frenaye and his five grandchildren – Jake, Lanna and Oliver Lyon, and Colton and Sophia La Frenaye. That was first and everything else – the stardom, the fame – came second.”

A fitting farewell

Dawn agreed that what her father liked best about Dunkirk is that he wanted to be treated like an equal and that’s exactly what Dunkirk did.

“They treated him like he was born and raised here and though some knew who he was, they just treated him normal. And that’s what he wanted – normalcy. He didn’t want people pushing pads in his face for autographs. Or selfies. He just wanted to be left alone and to be treated like any member of society in this town. That’s why I thanked the Dunkirk community in his eulogy because you did that for him. And I couldn’t appreciate it more. You guys really respected their privacy and their business.”

Cory’s Memorial Mass was celebrated on Nov. 21, 2015, at St. Elizabeth Ann Seton Church in Dunkirk. In death as in life, the private service with packed pews focused not on a legendary rock star, but on a devoted husband, father and grandfather who loved to fish. The community paid their respects, with the Dunkirk Joint Veterans Council saluting Cory who, prior to his fame, had enlisted and served in the U.S. Air Force.

Family members, celebrities, neighbors and local residents came together to pray for and honor one of their own for his exemplary lifestyle and remarkable achievements in the music world.

Cory Wells was simply the best at what he did – and how he lived.

Comments can be sent to faramah@roadrunner.com