Tuesday, December 21, 2010

3rd Grade 1935-36



After the grocery store experience we were back living  near the grandparents on Highland Ave. and I was in 3rd grade. My mother said to me,” MaryKay, it’s just doesn’t seem right. We are always moving into another home when it is your birthday.” BUT, you know what? I loved this. My birthdays were always so exciting. New place, new windows to look out from, new doors to open and look into new rooms, new floors to squeak around on, new sounds and echos of voices in empty rooms, so I loved these days and days following were very special for me. Especially, during a depression who could top this for a small child? Only this time we lived in an apartment on Highland Avenue, same street as the grandparents but just across 12th Street from their 2 story Victorian 2-flat. To go any further on down towards downtown the neighborhood was almost totally black. Because of this fact we never did go further towards downtown on Highland Avenue. Though I know St. Rose Church was down there somewhere, that trip would be with my Uncle Tim.  Always, especially afternoons, the smell from the breweries was very strong. Personally, I didn't like the smell. It's aroma covered up everything else. I believe I wouldn't be able to smell a fragrant rose if I found one. 

Mother was very pregnant, well I think I knew we were to have a new sibling. She had a young girl help her out in the kitchen, etc. The girl was learning the French language in her High School classes and would share phrases with us kids. This was our introduction to foreign language. Which was such fun. Our Aunt Mary [Maime] and Uncle Mike were with us for a time. My suspicion is they were helping my folks pay the apartment rent. They added lots of mirth in the family circle. I remember hating the kidney beans in my bowls of chili and I would pick them out. That’s why I most always mash them. 
For a time we had a male roomer in the front bedroom, for extra cash and wow did his feet stink. In the apartment’s bathroom hung a single light bulb from the ceiling with no shade, and with a pull chain to turn it on and off. I discovered that if I stared even a moment at that singular bulb I would see hearts in my eyes. I thought perhaps something was going wrong in my head. Scared me yet I wouldn't tell my parents. I must have felt they had enough of problems without mine. I learned this from my Raggedy Ann book to always wear a smile. Hers was sewn on. She could be my model. I surely could be her imitator. 
We were reenrolled at Gesu Grade School. Billy was now in the first grade classroom with same Sr. Mary Jean Allen as his instructor. In first grade Billy was wearing this leg brace and needed help lacing up his high-top boots he wore in the winter. Each day in winter I'd come over from 3rd grade classroom to get him ready for his walk home. The brace went through holes in each side of the heel of his right boot.
Boys all wore knickers. I found this bit when I Googled ’knickers’. "Boys usually wore their knickers buckled above the knees in the 1920s. Younger boys especially wore them above the knees. Boys would often prefer the more manly style of buckling them below the knee. Some mothers would insist that their son buckle his knickers above the knee. The boy, however, after leaving the house would rebuckle his knickers in the preferred below the knee position. This mother/son struggle of the 1920s was immortalized in the Music Man. By the 1930s the problem was resolved and below knees accepted.”  The knickers Billy wore were always below the knees and I recall cuffs, not buttons.
                                                                          
I was allowed to be in the boys play at Gesu because they needed more children. I was to  play Little Boy Blue. Mother was upset that I had volunteered for my costume rental cost was 35 cents. One lunchtime she did put exactly 35 cents into my hand. I held that money tightly while I was waiting patiently in the hall line outside the 3rd grade classroom. When I went inside the classroom the money was gone. Best scenario would be I lost the money in the cloakroom at the back of the classroom, a narrow room jumbled with coats and book bags, lunch bags, galoshes. Now I would need to explain my carelessness to mother. This was a very, very big problem. Problem was finally resolved and  I wore a costume of beautiful blue satin. When the girls turn arrived to put on a show I played Little Miss Muffet. 
My third grade teacher, Sr. Mary Cuthbert,  was not a pleasant [happy?] woman. I have come to believe all nuns were not happy because there were only 2 places for women in the Religious, well 3 if I count cloister. These were in schools teaching or in hospitals as nurses and suppose neither of these were her forte. And did you realize the nunnery in bygone times was that place where a young girls could live so she wouldn’t have to marry that man parents would choose? Some unhappy women taught in schools. I loved math in third grade, especially the pass-out papers. Until one day sister came by my desk and yanked my hair hard for some math reason. I wet my panties. I was uninterested from that point on. And hated her. I loved reading. I had learned to read so well. And I loved to read aloud, I suppose to exhibit my skill. One day sister went almost totally around the classroom because no one was able to read a particular word. My turn came and I read proudly the word, 'mosquito' , and kept right on reading. I was fluent in the flow of words yet I recall that I often did not comprehend what I read.
During Lent we went to morning Mass as one class with our classroom nun sitting behind all my classmates. Now I would need to prepare a double sandwich-- one for breakfast and one for lunch. We were to fast from midnight, no food and no drinks and eat our sack breakfast after Mass.  One morning as I prepared my 2 sandwiches I licked the knife which had grape jam on it, or was it apple butter.  Remember my awful nun? I was afraid not to go to Communion. I weighed the problem, procrastinating, but  I ended up receiving Communion. And the possible mortal sin haunted me for years.  I wouldn't talk about it in the Confessional.
We 3 small siblings would often walk together down 12th Street to the Public Library on Wisconsin Avenue and check out books.



Building as it looked in 1990 from TREK RV


There was a special smell in that book building, paper and ink, old book covers. Occasionally we would visit the museum which was connected. In these rooms we would see these great historical displays, behind windows, of early American history, Indians, barely clothed and beautiful feathered head-dresses and teepees around fires all in natural settings. There were battleground windows with soldiers in blue and gray aiming their rifles toward the enemy, the Redcoats, and some being shot or lying bloody wounded and dead on the earth. We never tired of these trips together to the museum and library. 






Early photo of museum/library


We were often at the grandparents Morris with all the family about. I remember puzzling why my Aunt Florence and Aunt Alice, would let themselves get so fat. Then the next time I would see them they had nice slim, beautiful female figures. They were pregnant obviously yet no one talked about that. There were many new babies, Florence and Jack Collins, Judy Dobeus, Barbara, Karen and Doug Morris. These homes had these huge sliding oak doors. We, cousins, would sometimes plan out a show-time. Elayne would be the manager and I assist. After some short rehearsals the adults would gather in the adjacent living room . We would roll back the sliding doors and perform. Much clapping and oohs and ahs. Most every Sunday we were extended family all together. Time would come when some of us kids would be sent down 12th street near Wimpy's hamburger shop, to purchase a brick or bricks of ice cream. We had to hurry back as fast as our legs would carry us. The adults would open the cardboard box and cut slices from the brick or bricks. Grandmother had an ice box and a window box cooler. No such thing as a refrigerator, much less a freezer compartment in one. So we needed to serve the ice cream before it melted. We kids often tried to hang onto our ice cream so we'd be the last one with some when the other plates were empty. Must be there weren't  2nds to be had. The day arrived when my grandmother had a brand new Norge refrigerator. Height about 5 ft.


How I loved to roller skate! I loved athletics, save swimming. I didn't have as much attention from my grandaddy as my big sister did. I already told you that special grandfather story. The Irish, or at any rate this family, gave special attention to the first born. Elayne and he had a warm and loving relationship, often talking or doing something together and a dollar for her birthday.  My mother  complained about this when she was growing up. She said her brother John and sister Florence got preferential treatment. She thought this the reason her talents were not encouraged. My parents made an effort to treat each of us children equally. That ended favoritism as they knew it. 


Little brother, Jimmy, was born on just about as cold a day as Milwaukee ever has, Dec. 21, 1935. I believe it was -20 degrees and wind [wind chill??]. It was so cold. We had early dismissal at noon from Gesu elementary school due to the dropping temperature.  My parents, involved with little brother Jim's birth, were unaware of any changed school day schedule. There was no one to pick us up.  I, 8 years old, had to stop in doorways, out of the wind, and then into the tunnel which ran under Wisconsin Avenue at 13th street providing safe crossing of Wisconsin Avenue for us school children. In the tunnel I warmed up a bit, my tingling fingers and toes, yet I was a long way from home. I must have been walking home with Elayne and Billy.





JAMES KIRBY BERGIN



We were very proud of our new little brother so the freezing walk home proved well worth our inconvenience. A number of times I was sent around the corner down 12th street to a small grocery and purchased cans of Pet milk for mother to make a formula. I marveled at the way my baby brother moved his legs, as if riding a bicycle. He was dressed always in flannel kimonos, diaper, rubber panties [no such thing as plastic] , and long cotton stockings pinned to the diaper. These would get wet constantly and needed changing, along with diaper. 
Times sure must have been hard. After missing our toys for a few weeks suddenly they turned up again on that Christmas morning, '35. A bit like a survival mode. My daddy had painted all our old toys, green and black, very practical. As I recall the green paint he used wasn't that great. There was a wicker doll carriage, a dump truck, kiddie car, doll crib,a steam shovel [he didn't paint that ]. We possibly received no new presents as best I remember, though possibly clothing.   Mother must have been in the hospital for Christmas. I have a hunch our Christmas in '35 was the day our parents brought our baby home. 
Seems to me as a child there was no real hardship. I am certain my parents felt as all other parents the lack of goods and ability to purchase what the family needed. Yet we were fortunate because we had each other and the larger family circle all about us. Those make really the best of times after all. I thought of my mother expecting a child so near to Christmas. She must have lived the first Christmas Story, tough times, poor accommodations. And then she did give birth to her baby boy. We sort of lived the real thing that year.
Just about this time my father landed his job, employed permanently as a chemist  at American Printing Ink Company in Chicago. We would move from this intimate extended family circle never again to come so close together. Morris, Bergin, Collins, Dobeus. 

Saturday, December 18, 2010

Days With Extended Family


































My Aunt Florence and Uncle Tom lived in a beautiful large, white, frame home in Oconomowoc, WI. This was an estate with long, wide, green front yard, in the rear a fish pond, tennis court, Martins house, many trees. Always the bluejays calls which sound I learned to love with all the happy memories that go with.



The home was across from Lac La Belle, a couple blocks to the beach. I wasn't crazy about being at the lake, often cold water. My little cousin, MaryAnn took to the water like a fish. She told me recently that her father called their home 'Sundown Cottage' with all it's lovely sunsets. 
Uncle Tom had a black Packard which he parked in a garage beneath the house
                                          I would often see this big car from the side porch.

We cousins had so many special times together. The children had a toy room of their own off the kitchen near the back door. There were many toys to play with. At times it was an utter mess. Sometimes we would play in the back yard. And then there was  this wide and long front porch. We loved playing out there on the huge white wooden furniture, rockers and straight chairs, tipping them over sometimes in our imaginative play. I am using this picture once again for it shows the view to the street as we played on the front porch. 
Elayne and Grandaddy on the front lawn in Oconomowoc

There was also a screened in side porch upstairs where we could sleep on very hot summer nights. One can see the porches in the home photo above.

I recall the fun in the upstairs children's bedrooms with maids to watch over us and clean up pillow fights, make up our beds, etc. I have special memories as we cousins ran downstairs and back and forth through the large sprawling living room, our running footsteps sounding, thump, thump, thumps, on the wood floor as as we passed behind our parents visiting together seated on plush furniture beside a roaring, crackling fire in the fireplace. Along with this came the smell of the fresh lake air. These were special, delight-filled, times for the entire family, grandparents, too, all the aunts and uncles and cousins. Maids often fed the children all together in the kitchen. I recall the ice cream they made in refrigerator trays, and dished out for us, rather crunchy, icy. Recall they used a kind of pudding base. Electric refrigeration and freezing was a modern convenience in the thirties.  
Aunt Florence, Uncle Tom Collins with Baby










Is this not a lovely family group marveling at their newborn? I have a similar photo of our Kevin and Charlene beaming over their 2nd son Paul Francis Bergin Stewart.
"Beautiful", they always say, as they beam with love and pride and joy.

This is Tommy as a toddler


Later MaryAnne was born and I recall how nice and slim my Auntie Flo  looked. I was happy for her to have lost all that weight. She is/was my godmother. A few years Auntie Flo would put on belly fat once again. And then my cousin Florence was born. Eventually, Jack joined the family. Here you see some toddler pictures of our cousins. 
MaryAnn and her Sister Flossie [Florence]

Sunday drives were a big entertainment. Stores were locked up tight on Sundays. Sundays were for Church and for family together time. Routinely,  Sundays I could smell beef roasting in the oven or a pot roast for family dinner. Often family, all together, would take an outing in the automobile, adding to making this a special day. Spring and summer we’d have the windows rolled down all the way to feel the breezes on our faces and through our hair. Without air conditioning this was a welcome relief from midwest heat.  Often we would have our grandparents along with. Mother, sisters, and uncles called my grandparents Mama and Papa. Daddy would motor to a lakeside.
Little Brother Jackie

















We kids would walk along the beach and collect bottle caps from orange pop [orange ones] and grape soda [purple], root beer [brown]. We used these bottle caps as play people with individual identities. Each had a personality. We had several red and white coca cola caps, too. In later years these 'people' were replaced with lead soldiers with transferred personalities. There would often be one I’d call “Barbara”. Elayne  would consistently use the name “Joan” with her play people. 

Another Outing-
Also, though not as often, we visited our Grandparents Bergin on their farm in Fond du lac, WI., north of Milwaukee. And when there, although we would occasionally see cousins, our treats were the young uncles, watching them do farm work, coming to the house for meals, chickens and ducks, collecting eggs. My Aunt Marion, Uncle Ed's wife, worked at a Children's Home. She was a nurse. Never had children of their own. I thought her job was the greatest and would often day dream about what it was like to be in such a home or to maybe have one like that when I grew up. Our Aunt Helen, a nurse, and Aunt Veronica were often home. Mother used to remark what beautiful young girls they were. Mother and dad told us of Veronica’s marriage to Harry. This was such a sad story because Harry disappeared the day after their wedding. She became a divorced lady, so young. From a Catholic view this was a tainting. For sure she was never to marry again. Some years later she did remarry and had a child, a son. She married a German Wisconsin farmer. I got the impression it would have been far better had he been Irish. Occasionally there were picnics or meals when the extended family gathered together to share, and we would play with cousins, Dorothy, Jack, Virginia, Uncle Frank's children. Francis was the eldest of my grandparents’ children, daddy's big brother.  There were more cousins later when Helen and Tim and Veronica married. Uncle John [Mansfield] never did marry and Uncle Dave, who's twin died at birth, married way late in life. He and his spouse bought me my first Martini when in college Elayne and I visited them. 

The long, gravel driveway leading from the main road to their farm home always fascinated me.
I will return at a later time to these grandparents when I was about 9 or 10 years old.











Thursday, November 18, 2010

2nd Grade 1934-35


Next year we moved to a National Avenue Address, in St. Aloysius parish, to run a corner grocery store and even to to earn extra money by making salad dressing, and mayonnaise and relish in big urns [I think I still can smell the mix] in the basement, attach labels to the glass jars, and market the dressings around town, true family business. We now owned a Chevy delivery van, dark blue or black. Mother and Dad would pack us 3 children in the back of the van, no windows, and weekly drive to the theater to enjoy a family movie, not always for kids, on Friday evenings. We would return late at night and often daddy had to carry my limp body from the truck to my bed. Sometimes the movie would be so-o-o-o boring and it was late to boot. Like a Mae West movie for she was a popular star.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=0cbTyuSWqfU&NR=1&feature=fvwp
 Click or Copy and paste the above link
Elayne and I each recall living some distance from our parochial school, St. Aloysius. Some mornings were quite cold. My father had arranged for us to get rides from the willing bread delivery man. When the bread truck arrived we would hop aboard. He was huge of frame and we always felt very embarrassed jumping out from the truck in front of school while children were arriving for the day. Our own dad was sleek, and good looking. Kids might think this was our dad. I was in 2nd grade, Elayne in 3rd. Each Friday we were shown films from a projector in the auditorium. 
I alway recall Hunchback of Notre Dame
I had a special book which had the picture of a little child [boy] with blond, curly locks, who had climbed up on the altar to look into the tabernacle in search of the Child Jesus. Impressed me so I never forgot it. One day I attempted to walk home on my own. I had taken it upon myself to search out a new way home. Apparently I blocked out what happened for I know I was lost and have no clue how I was found. Each classroom desk seated 2 children. I recall some children had only lard sandwiches for lunch. Things were still pretty sad for families. No money.


There was a storeroom in the rear of the grocery store, behind our living quarters. We had these huge cast off, wooden refrigerators along the wall, unused. I don't think they were dangerous for there was plenty of open air. Though they had strong fasteners on the front doors, I think there were no backs. We loved climbing in and out of them as if animals in their cages in a zoo. Also, there was a wood, single car garage out back. We would climb onto it's roof where we'd  challenge each other to jump. Eventually, Elayne did and she suffered a badly sprained ankle. Two friends our age who lived up the street had a wonderful basement to play in. I recall one name, Oren Jacoby. They had a great playhouse in their basement.

Mother often told us how her mother had always had plenty of hired help when she was just a girl and she never learned even the basic household chores. She considered this quite a loss in her vocation as a mother, and wife. Mother would often be ironing as we came in from the school day.
www.otrcat.com/stella-dallas-p-1863.html     click or  Copy and paste this link and hear her soap opera
She'd have the radio on listening to her serial programs, Backstage Wife followed by Stella Dallas.These were the days of weekly ironing of the family's clothing on Tuesdays. One day returning from school, as my mother had the iron standing upside on the board, I knocked it over, it falling onto my right arm. I received quite a burn. Mother hurriedly ran with me across the street to a drug store on the opposite corner for some balm to apply. My mother had a tendency to get panicky, [hysterical?] when things happened. Sore and scar remained some time on my right forearm.    

On Sundays our daddy would give us each a big hunk off the hard chocolate slab from the glass case in the grocery. [Similar to the chocolate we were given on the Sunday park days in New York] Tradition. Yummy. I recall one Sunday when we were in the store proper and witnessed my mother crying. Could it be when she found she was pregnant with her next child?Times were so hard. Operating the store too, was short-lived. Perhaps the tears were due to failing the store project. From the Dairy business we had long cardboard tubes of cardboard bottle caps left over. Stayed with this family many years as a reminder. Now we would have boxes of spices.
Aunt Alice, my Uncle Howie's wife,  put on a birthday party for cousin Alice in 1934 when young Alice turned 4 years old. I believe this was Elayne and my first and Billy, too, invitational birthday party, that is the kind with games and favors, balloons, young guests with presents. The Morris' youngest daughter, Karen, has the original picture taken by a photographer who came to the house. See the picture below. Though the young Morris' continued to live on 12th St. the Collins' and the Bergins' came visiting the relatives to celebrate the birthday.








Cousin Alice Morris 4, seated at the head of the table. At her left is Tommy Collins the other boy left is Billy Bergin, my brother. The girls are Aunt Alice'  2 niece. On Alice right is her sister Mary Morris in the high chair, next to her my sister Elayne 8,  MaryKay 7, Bergin. MaryAnn Collins is seated in the big chair. Other 2 children Alice' cousins not ours.



You will notice the woodwork in this home is painted light. Aunt Alice painted the wood to look more modern. Aunt Alice could do most any kind of physical work like this. She could work outside the home, waiting on tables or kitchen work. Always seemed to me Aunt Alice was energetic. She was brought up to participate in family chores whereas Florence and Cecile had servants for chores. Not a great way to learn. My mother would often say thanks to the Betty Crocker cookbook she was able to get along. That was a few years hence. She would say her younger sister, Gladys was more handy in the kitchen.



I am wondering if the 4 children in the picture are from the same family. I would notice when their Aunt Katz was visiting her sister, my Aunt Alice she'd be holding the baby to her breast and periodically the baby would slip off and I would see her bare bosom. I never witnessed this among the Morris family even though babies were born over a span of time in which I would certainly  have. I believe this baring of the breast was explained to us because Aunt Alice and family grew up on a farm in Iowa. The girls were not as sophisticated. That Uncle Howie met his bride at the 5 and 10 cent store. I have a hunch she also wasn't of Irish pedigree. That's just the way it was. We have grown out of such prejudice. We must forgive naivite. Aunt Alice's know-how was extremely valuable times when Uncle Howie spent periods of time in a santitarium dealing with TB recovery. He worked for The Milwaukee Sentinel and I believe Uncle Jimmy did also for a time. 


Uncle Jimmy had a great voice. He lived at home with our grandparents. When we visited we would often hear him crooning while shaving, dressing or just sitting down to read the paper. He was the favorite of the kids. He could sing and bar-tend also we were told.

Like no refrigeration in the kitchen, the bathrooms, too, were typical of that period. The tubs had claw feet, no showers. There was a tank on the wall above the toilet from which a long, strong chain hung down. To flush I would yank on that chain and gravity do the work.

Elayne, especially, loved the Sunday comics which were always available at the Grandparents. She would miss quite a few Sunday readings . When visiting she and I would trek down the cold back enclosed stairway to a small  room where all the papers would be neatly stacked. Of course, there would be 6 weekdays to every Sunday. The Sunday comics could be hidden. We had to rustle through the stacks to find them. I never heard anyone complain. We must have made messes. I know we did.
Car, tracks, electric pole to overhead wires [cancel palm tree]
Though Highland was an Avenue, 12th Street was a streetcar route. All day and into the night we'd hear the cars braking and starting up, clang, clanging and see the  electric flash on the lines above as they connected with their attached poles. This was primary transportation for all the people, our conveniently available transportation other than walking.

Sunday, November 7, 2010

1st Grade 1933-34

My daddy and grandaddy had a great deal of respect for each other. The relationships together were serene. I mentioned previously that my grandfather was like an entrepreneur today. He owned the entire corner real estate at 12th and Highland Avenue in Milwaukee, WI. The 2-flat at 1213 W. Highland was now where my grandparents lived in the downstairs flat and our William and Cecile Bergin family upstairs. There was another house directly on the corner, and one around the corner on 12th street where Uncle Howard and Aunt Alice Morris lived with their first 2 children, Alice Kay and Mary. To visit the younger Morris' we need only cross through the back yards. My Aunt Florence and Thomas Collins family were living in Oconomowoc, WI

I attended 1st grade at Gesu school. The school almost seemed like a part of the Marquette University campus. Elayne and I would leave our home on Highland Avenue and walk down 12th Street, cross under Wisconsin Avenue, the main street going through downtown.
We would pass through the university walkways. This was wonderful bustling territory with both young Jebbies and college students coming and going as we little tykes walked amongst them. I believe they were mostly males in thirties and forties other than female Nursing School students. The elementary school was right there amongst the colleges on 13th street.

My teacher was Sr. Jean Allen B.V.M. [Blessed Virgin Mary] Billy would be in her classroom for first grade, too. That’s jumping ahead in time. Remember the Cathedral Basic Readers series? Here I began with the primer. I read: Dick See Dick  See Dick run  Jane See Jane See Jane run- each phrase on a separate page.   Sister was seemingly a nice lady, at least I had previously always thought so. I know she was young and very pretty. But-- one day she was weary of talkers and threatened to put a strip of brown packaging tape on the mouth of the first child who talked. I was not a talker, but I did, and true to her word she slapped the sticky tape across my mouth which I had to keep over my lips when school was dismissed and all the way up the sidewalk, in public, from Michigan Avenue to Wisconsin Avenue-- a very traumatic experience. [Did I even think of removing the tape? Must have already known about venial sins and Hell and guilt]] Parochial schools called this discipline. Something changed inside of me from that moment on. A tunnel had been built beneath the busy Wisconsin Avenue for safe pedestrian crossing especially for the children. I don't know if the tunnel is there today or if open. Today we would consider it a danger for children to walk through it all alone. Then it was considered safe.

My sister and I took piano lessons. We would walk from the school to the nearby convent. Once inside it was truly mysterious, so quiet, so clean, spotless, with a glowing wooden floored hallway from which doors to the music rooms opened. I can still hear the piano notes as the little children had their lessons. It sounded like one finger piano. 'Robin in the cherry tree sing a pretty song to me'.

While we lived above the grandparents my mother owned a player piano. When parents played the piano rolls it was fun to watch keys move as if magically on their own and to listen to melodies. Kind of odd, really, for my own mother loved to play the piano. I suppose it could be played either way, huh?

In winter my brother Billy became very ill, pneumonia. There were a scary few days and nights for all as he was carefully nursed through the illness. No penicillin. I recall times here when we were to go somewhere how we kids had to wait and wait and wait until finally parents were ready to go. The lesson I learned from this was to tell my children where we were going shortly before departure. and save them that long, dull, boring wait.

Elayne and my bedroom had a door which opened onto the dining room which opened into the living room. My parents occasionally had company at night after we were sent to bed at 7:30. They had an audience, watching and listening in, giggle, giggle, for we would push our double bed up to this door, slightly opened and look over the top where we could watch the guests in the living room.

We had this set of little books to read with Red Riding Hood, Three Little Pigs, Gingerbread Boy. I had a very special book though not in the set, Raggedy Ann, my favorite. I will refer to this book later on. Uncle Tim’s kids are all aware of the few times I attended novenas in the evening with their father, my Uncle Tim Bergin. I think this was at St. Rose or St. John’s. These were very special evenings for me; like date with Uncle. I recall lying contentedly and sleepily on the oak pew beside him throughout the service. Apparently this was special for him too as he told the story from his memory, too, and repeatedly.

We often gathered together as extended family for a meal seated in the dining room in these red velvet high back chairs around the large dining table. I have this memory of my grandaddy standing at the table's head and speaking loudly with all of us attentive. My hunch is the two grandparents argued often. My mother dreaded the anxiety she would feel when they did. She made her decision not to have these loud discussions in her marriage. I believe she succeeded. The furniture in the living room was dark, also,  Craftsman style, couch,  chairs, etc. She'd be seated in one of the chairs.

Cousin Tom recalls- "I see her always sitting in the same chair on the south side of the living room on Highland—always sitting in state, like Queen Victoria.

My memory of my grandmother is walking with a cane and a limp. She had bright, twinkling eyes and a lovely Irish accent-- lots of ‘tis this and ‘tis that. In those days one with arthritis lived  a more confined existence. I often wondered if she ever attended Mass then. She had other physical problems, too. Adults would leave for Sunday Mass yet I don't remember her  leaving with them. Though physical attendance may have stopped when her son John, her eldest son died and they changed addresses.  There were holy pictures on her walls and she often   had rosary beads in her hands softly praying aloud.

 I was aware of these cotton cloths, about 8" x 12" which were washed clean and hung to dry on the clothesline in the back yard, again and again and again. They weren't dish towels. I thought this mysterious for there never was an explanation for us. When did Kotex enter the markets?
Elayne's special relationship

My granddaddy's had a special relationship with my sister. Yet I have my own special memory of my grandfather Morris showing sympathy for me. If and whenever I went down to Milwaukee City Hall to get my childhood shots I would come home deathly ill, vomiting, fever, etc. This one time I was showing my dread to such an extent that he made a deal with me, his granddaughter, the one who loved to roller-skate. He promised me he would purchase a pair of roller-skates for me if I would go down like a brave girl and get my shot. He delivered his side of the promise. I did get sick.
When the sisters would get together with their mama and papa, eventually they would get around to telling wonderful yarns about the Irish. “Did you hear the story about what  Paddy Donavan did after church this morning? Did you?” No I didn’t.” “Did you?” “Didn’t You?" And they would carry on and on with some yarn to which each could add on their 2 bits, all in Irish brogue. Was such a comical routine. We played lots of PACKED MY TRUNK TO IRELAND  with adults and children gathered together sitting around the room in those Morris chairs.

I made my First Holy Communion this year.
It was probably a distance of 4 or 5 blocks to the church door
Inside the doors I climbed many stairs to the upstairs church
 I felt like a big girl going off to Gesu by myself. I had this lovely, soft green Easter coat which I remember wearing proudly as I skipped  down 12th street by myself and climbed the many stairs into upper Gesu Church. There were classical choirs those days for the High Mass, especially in this University environment. The music was professional and particular. Many lit candles, added to the formality. Sunlight came through beautiful stained glass windows in every direction. One had to step up into a pew upstairs. I'd be surrounded by adults. I loved going there alone.

There was an entire church downstairs, too, and a memorable Pieta statue. When attending Mass downstairs, due to the many, many young Jesuits priests and brothers all about the campus, every 15 minutes or so one of these men would walk up to one of the many side altars with altar boy or boys trailing behind him. He would begin to 'say' his required daily Mass. There would be 3,4,5,Masses being celebrated so one could almost always be 'on time' for one.
Colorful Pieta downstairs where children usually attended