Friday, September 20, 2019

Inauspicious start

I am exhausted. I need some rest. And the worst thing is that the vacation is just about to start.
A couple of my kids thought that I might be lonesome after Johnny Murphy died so they got me a cat. Truth be told, I am a cat hater. Always was. Imagine my surprise when my son Danno - also a die hard cat hater - turned into a knowledgeable cat lover! Mike always loved cats. They are trying to turn me to the dark side.

Our big ball of long black fur/hair is friendly enough, but his hair is everywhere. His name is Doolin. He is 12 years old so he spends most of the day sleeping or rolling around on the floor. He is always whining for food, but he is looking bigger and bigger so surely he is getting enough to eat.
His biggest problem is that he sometimes misses the litter box.
Danno was concerned that Doolin would be lonely while Mike and I were in Ireland for 10 days. So he kindly offered to take him home to his cats. Dan was down last weekend, and he and Amanda took him home - Doolin went quietly. He had his own room at Dan's - Dan introduced him to one of Dan and Amanda's cats, BenJen, but  Doolin ran to eat his food before BenJen even thought to try it. Next morning Dan let Salem in to meet Doolin who promptly attacked and almost killed him before he dug his claws into Amanda's boots. 6 am text: Come get him - this isn't going to work. I was shocked! This cat never showed any sign of violence. Mike took the day off and brought Doolin home in disgrace. I guess he does not like any competition. 
I had to go into the office on Thursday for work - I was gone from 7:30 am - 7:30 pm. Mike worked a double so he was gone all day too. I got home and the house smelled of cat! That is one thing I will not tolerate. I couldn't find any signs of anything.
On Friday the odor was still there. So when I finished work, I started cleaning rugs and floors - now the house smelled like rug cleaner and Lysol. I was trying to get packed in between cleaning.

Mike and I headed for the Logan Express in Braintree at 2:30 pm on Saturday the 14th. We pulled into the parking lot in Braintree, and I suddenly realized I didn't have my credit cards! The wallet I had kept everything in for years - that I had bought at the Gravedigger's Pub in Dublin - had recently fallen apart. I was using an old wallet of Johnny Murphy's to hold everything. I had bought a new passport holder with pink flamingos - that would be hard to lose! - and transferred my passport/license/debit cards/euros into it. But I had kept my credit cards in Johnny's wallet in a zippered compartment in my purse.  My purse was bursting because it was so full -  so I had switched bags just before we left and never thought to take the wallet! I had plenty of money with my debit card, but car rental companies do not accept debit cards! That's what I was worried about. It is 3:30, and our flight is at 7:30! Mike suggested calling my brother Johnny to see if he could grab the wallet and meet us halfway. He and Vickie were in Virginia I think he said - I didn't stop to talk to him. I tried calling my friend Julie - this would really test the bonds of friendship! She was driving home from her cottage in Wareham. Typical Julie - of course she would drive to pick up the wallet and then drive halfway to meet us! God bess Julie.
Then as I was emptying out my purse to find the parking ticket that Mike had just handed me, I came across 2 credit cards that had come in the mail - I had never opened them. So I did! Then I immediately activated one from Marriott - bingo! I called Julie back, and she said she had the same credit card - I should be good to go. So I used it to buy the Logan Express tickets. The card worked - no need for Julie to drive up! We jumped on the bus and headed to terminal C for Aer Lingus.
I never delay going through Security - I check in and go immediately through security. That's what we did. Then we headed to the gate - when we got there, I pulled out the new credit cards and my phone. I called the Marriott number to let them know I was traveling - no foreign transaction fees. Then I activated and notified the other card - this one has foreign transaction fees so I won't be using this. Now I could relax until we got to the car rental agency.

The flight was okay - the chicken meal was not great. There was  some delay with the bags - I had never waited so long, and it was everyone's bags. We went to Alamo Car Rental to get the keys. The gal did tell me that Dan Dooley is 95 year old, and that is why he sold the business to Enterprise. I was lamenting the loss after renting with him for 30+ years. The gal said it was a culture shock after she had worked for Dan Dooley for 13 years to go to Enterprise. She gave us the keys, and thankfully it was not a hybrid! The new credit card worked so I could finally relax.
We had a quick bite at the airport about 6:30 am then headed to Galway. We got to the Connemara Coast Hotel about 8:30 am - no traffic on Sundays. We had even driven through Salthill looking for the statue of Father Griffen but never saw it - Salthill is so built up now. My friend Barbara Thompson's uncle used to live near that statue, and she stayed there as a kid. Each time I am in Galway I try to find it. We drove by it once on a bus a couple of years ago, but Salthill was under water from the tropical storm so they would not let us off the bus.  I think I drove past it last May with Beth, but the traffic was horrendous, and I couldn't find a parking space. I think I will have to stay in Salthill next time. I do love the promenade and being so close to the water.
We got to the hotel - reception told us that our room would not be ready until after noon because it was full last night. We were not surprised that the room wasn't ready, but were surprised that the hotel was packed!


We went to the dining room and met up with Johnny Murphy's sisters - Joan and Monica who were having breakfast - they had arrived Saturday and were leaving Monday. Monica's son Micheal Lynch is the manager of the hotel - he told them to have us leave our bags in their room. They suggested that we drive them into Salthill then we could have a sleep in their room. So we drove them into Salthill - they would poke round and then meet Micheal at 2:30, and he would bring them to the hotel on his way to work.
We changed clothes and jumped into the beds. Suddenly I heard an airplane nearby - I thought it was a plane going to or from Inverrin to the Aran Islands. Then I heard it again so I got up and pulled back the curtains - it was a helicopter landing behind the hotel! We watched it land, but since there were no cameras or reporters, we figured there were no celebrities, and we jumped back into bed. We found out later it was someone flying from Connemara to Loughrea  - the visibility was so bad that it put down at the hotel - which does NOT have a helicopter pad by the way!



Having that quick sleep was a good idea - we felt better - still tired but able to go for a drive to Roundstone.
Joan and Monica came along - neither had been to Connemara before. It was not the best day to go - damp, rainy, and very foggy. I had originally thought of going to Clifden first, but decided to just go to Roundstone due to the time and weather. We took the road to Maam Cross - turned left and headed toward Galway. Mike was driving - it was only his 2nd time driving in Ireland, and he had not been to Connemara since he was a kid - 15-20 years ago. The drab, foggy weather put a damper on the drive - visibility was limited when the fog settled in - I knew there were rolling mountains out there somewhere, but we couldn't see any! I thought I saw a sign for Roundstone on the left, but I hadn't been paying attention - no one else saw it. And the GPS said to continue straight. That next sign is for Emlagh - that is near Roundstone, but again why listen to me when the GPS said to continue straight. Finally, I knew we were in the outskirts of Clifden - we had missed Roundstone - I knew that drive was too long.
Mike turned around - reset the GPS as I was saying we could skip Roundstone and stop in Clifden. Rather than drive to the city center and take the Roundstone Road through Ballyconneelly, we headed back toward Galway and got off at a sign for Ballynahinch. This was a road I hadn't been down before - we came along the back of Ballynahinch Castle on a twisting narrow road - talk about a canopy of trees! We finally came to civilization - Roundstone was not too far away. We pulled up to O'Dowd's Pub in a light mist - we got a spot outside the door.
I've always eaten in the pub side so that is what we did. There was one loud obnoxious customer sitting at the bar with a couple of guys - there were 2 other young men trying to carry on a conversation near the loud fella - and a young couple sitting in front of the window. We all ordered - I had fish 'n chips with mash instead of French fries - Mike had an Italian pasta dish, Monica had shepard's pie, and Joan had salmon. My fish was delicious! Mike liked the pasta which makes me smile because I would never think of ordering pasta for my first meal in Ireland - I need fish or roast chicken and mash! I love the potatoes over here.

Monica, Joan, MEM, Mike at O'Dowd's in Roundstone.

I'm sure I have said before that my grandfather worked at O'Dowd's before leaving for the US. So my family has a soft spot for the place.


MEM, Monica, and Joan at Roundstone Harbor.

After eating, we walked up to King's Pub - across a small street and up about 2 doors. It was locked up!?! That's odd. We stopped next door at my cousin Mary King's house - keys in the door but no answer. I opened the door and gave a few shouts - no response - so I left a note saying I had stopped by. Johnny Murphy and I as well as my sister Patty with her husband Richie and son Ricky Schiavoni, my sister Jody, and my brother Jimmy had rented this house during a couple of trips when Mary was still running and living next door at the bar. I knew Mary was not far with keys left in the door.

Joan had walked up to The Shamrock Pub - nice cozy turf fire going. We ordered a round - Monica asked the barman if he had seen Mary King recently. A girl at the next table said she had seen Mary going into Vaughan's a short while before. Vaughan's Restaurant is in the Roundstone Hotel. We were enjoying the turf fire when the barman said he just saw Mary going into her house. I left my Diet Coke, and ran over - Mary was just coming out to pick up her grandson at his girlfriend's. As always, Mary had a few minutes to talk - we were just catching up when a man came in - he was Mary's brother - then another brother came in and then one more. They had all had dinner at Vaughan's and were now heading to Tuam for a christening. They were just out the door when Mary's son Joseph came in - he runs the bar now. They were telling me that there had been a christening in Roundstone on Saturday - I guess some of the guests were a little rowdy, and the Gardai were called. The same blokes were around this morning so Joe did not open the bar - he did not want any trouble with them. They had just left town before we got there.
Mike, Monica, and Joan walked in now. We took a couple of pictures - Joe had opened the pub, but we didn't go in - it was late now - still rainy and foggy - we had an hour and a half drive - so we said goodbye and headed to the hotel.


Mike, MEM, Mary, and Joan in Mary's house

Mary King and her son Joseph

MEM, Mike, and Joan in Roundstone

The drive home wasn't as long as the drive to Roundstone. We all went to our rooms for a short while then met Joan and Monica in the bar for a night cap. Micheal, Monica's son, was there and bought us a drink. I don't drink very much - one drink usually puts me to sleep, but I did have a glass of Bailey's. Then Micheal bought another round for the 4 of us, and I had another glass of Bailey's! I was ready for bed after that!
Next morning Mike went down for a swim and tried out the hot tub. Then we went down for the breakfast buffet, and Joan and Monica came down after packing. Micheal was driving them to the Limerick bus station for the Killarney bus. They would catch the Kenmare bus in Killarney.
Mike and I went upstairs to get ready for our day trip to Cong in County Mayo. We went down to say goodbye to Joan and Monica, but they had just left thinking that we had already left!
My whole extended family loves The Quiet Man movie. Mike was willing to drive to Cong to the Quiet Man Museum so we headed off. It was a beautiful warm day - like summer. 
The Quiet Man was filmed in 1951 in parts of Connemara. The crew stayed at Ashford Castle in Cong - some scenes were filmed on the hotel's grounds. Cong is a cute little town except for the big buses and trucks traveling through on its narrow roads! We found a parking space about 11 am and walked to the museum for a 11:30 walking tour. We passed the Dying Man's House - where the old man is being visited by a priest and jumps up when he hears that Sean Thornton and Squire Danagher are fighting. I think John Ford's brother played the dying man.


We continued down the hill to the museum which is a replica of the original cottage which is now in ruins in Maam. It is across the street from the river where part of the fight scene was filmed.

Quiet Man Museum in Cong

The sign on the half door said "Back in 10 minutes" so we walked over to the river which is on the border of Mayo and Galway. At 11:30 no one had removed the sign on the half door. Mike tried the door, and it opened - so, of course, we walked right up the stairs. There was a woman inside the gift shop all the time - she had forgotten to remove the sign. She told us the 11:30 walking tour was canceled because the leader was sick. We weren't sure we wanted to stay till 12:30 pm. We paid the admission fee to the museum downstairs, and the woman came down and unlocked the door - she asked us to use the side door to leave, and then locked us in!
They have done a good job with the museum.

 
Posters and chairs that belonged to the main players!

Bed from the famous bedroom scene, and the original dress Maureen O'Hara wore.

The bike Sean Thornton and Mary Kate Danagher rode.

I hadn't realized that The Quiet Man was based on a short story by Kerry man Maurice Walsh - the Green Rushes - I have to go home and look to see if I have that story in a book of Maurice Walshes' stories.


A few of Maurice Walsh's books in the museum.

There were all kinds of old newspaper clippings about the filming and the premier. Apparently many Cong villagers were paid as part of the crowd scene during the fight. 
We let ourselves out the side door and went around the corner to see the statue of John Wayne and Maureen O'Hara. A car pulled up and yelled at Mike when they saw his Bruins shirt - they were from Charlestown.


I stopped outside Danagher's Hotel to take a couple of pix.



Mike was talking to a guy on the corner - turned out he was the bartender in Pat Cohen's Pub so we went in for a cold drink. The bartender was very friendly - his 86 year old Grannie was outside walking her dog. Some of the bar scenes in the movie were filmed here.



The bartender was expecting a busload of tourists for lunch.

We decided to skip the walking tour and instead look for the train station used in the movie. So we headed east toward Tuam to Ballyglunin.


This railway station was in several scenes in the Quiet Man - when Sean Thornton first arrived home and then when Mary Kate was leaving Sean Thornton - he pulled her out of the train and started the great walking/dragging scene with Thornton dragging Mary Kate through the fields to her brother.



I started talking with one of the Fas workers - he was telling me that restoration was going slowly but was moving along. They have restored the outside of the waiting room - they plan to restore part of the interior to the way it was in the movie - they are also going to develop a museum and a community center in there. The signal cabin was also restored, and they landscaped the ground across the tracks this year. 

Mike with signal cabin on left.

We met some women who came to look at the station - they were NOT there because they were Quiet Man fans - the older woman had left for London from this station as a young girl as had many others. I guess this history of hundreds who probably headed toward emigration from this station will be part of the history for the museum.
Also part of its history will be the raids during the War of Independence - look below for the items that were raided.


From the railway station, we headed west again to Oughterard where Sean Thornton and Micheleen stopped on the bridge to look at Sean's old homestead. The bridge is about 5 miles west of Oughterard. After we passed through the town, we came across farmers protesting the price of beef - I guess protests have been going on across the country.
The little bridge was off to the left as we headed toward Clifden - then at a bend in the road. 



Sunday we couldn't see any mountains - Monday was a beautiful day.


View west from the bridge.

Mike walked over the bridge to read the plaque.

This was on that plaque.


The following plaque is along the river before you get to the bridge.


So we ended our Quiet Man quest and drove to Peacocke's Hotel at Maam's Cross. We hadn't eaten since breakfast so I had soup and brown bread - Mike had chicken wings. We did check out the old cottage beside the hotel - I had been there with my kids years ago - and with Jody and Beth a couple of years ago. The cottage is well preserved, but the inside does not compare with the Quiet Man museum rig out.


We headed back to the Connemara Coast Hotel - as we were driving along, we were listening to the news. Several years ago, my sisters Patty and Jody and myself were in Oxford, England and wanted to stop at Blenheim Palace where Winston Churchill was born - I am a big Churchill fan. We drove up to the palace, but there was an event going on, and we couldn't even get onto the grounds. I was thinking of that trip when the news about the big burglary came on the radio. An Italian artist had loaned an 18 carat gold toilet worth 4 million euro to an exhibit at Blenheim Palace - it was plumbed into the building and was a working toilet. The thieves pulled it out of the wall, and there was massive flood damage. Mike and I were screaming laughing. Then came the clincher - the radio reported that the artist begged that the toilet not be melted down and that all he asked was that whoever stole the golden toilet use it, and then let him know what it was like to use a golden toilet!! The reporter said a 60+ year old man was in custody and that the police expected to flush out more clues!

We were still laughing as we pulled into the parking lot of the hotel. We watched some TV before we met Micheal for dinner at 6. 

View out our room window.

Danno and Amanda had raved about Padraicins restaurant just west of the hotel so that is where we went. Unfortunately, we parked along the river, and the midges ate us as we walked the short distance to the restaurant. When we had passed by Padraicins last night coming from Roundstone, the place was mobbed, but tonight it was quiet. I had a delicious roast chicken with fabulous green beans and mash. Mike and Micheal had pasta dishes that they said were good. Micheal is a great guy - he and Mike were close growing up - he came to Boston and stayed with us for a short while. It's always good to see him.

Padraicins is right on Galway Bay - must be lovely sitting outside on a nice day.

Micheal had to work at 7 am so we cut it short. Mike went down to the bar for a while. I started this blog. Tomorrow we pack up and head home to Gortdromagh - the weather is supposed to be good - if so, we may take the coast road. Both of us are down as drivers, but Mike has done all the driving so far.



Saturday, February 24, 2018

Waiting For A New Life

It's 4:08 am Saturday morning. I have been tossing around in this bed for a while so decided to write down some of what is going around in my head.
This is a bit out of order for My Family Story which I just can't settle down to finish - even though I am so close to the end - Aunt Nellie is almost done, then Aunt Hannah, Uncle Jim Keohane, and finally my grandfather John Keohane are left. But I can't concentrate on them right now.
February school vacation is a great time to travel. My daughter Mairead went to Seattle for a few days - we had been out there in August on our way to Alaska with my son Dan and his wife Amanda. We all loved Seattle - Mairead had talked about returning again to see more of it - so she did.
My nieces traveled - Ellen to Las Vegas and the Grand Canyon with some fellow teachers - Dan had flown in and out of Las Vegas a couple of times in his quest to travel to all 50 American states.
Katherine and a friend went to Norway for a lifetime of adventures - they went on a reindeer sleigh ride over the snow - that must have been similar to the dog sled ride that Dan and Amanda, Mairead and I took on a glacier in Alaska.
My sister Patty and all the Schiavonis traveled to London - one of my favorite cities. Some of them are heading to other parts of England and Scotland this week. Dan traveled with some of the Schiavonis to England and Scotland when he was in middle and high school - I know he golfed at Old St. Andrew's.
My sister Jody and I had originally thought about going to London - but Mickey had a hip replacement so Jody was otherwise engaged, and because Dan had told me in December that he had decided to have this lung transplant, I pulled out of London to save money for that life changing event.
But I did travel this vacation week as did Dan and Amanda - to MGH - Massachusetts General Hospital - Dan finished up his pre transplant testing, and we attended a transplant class.
Since the day Dan was diagnosed with Cystic Fibrosis - and I can still picture him - a high school sophomore - sitting at a table in the living room on Green St. in Watertown - I got off the phone with Dr Gerry Hayes at St. E's who had told me that Dan had CF and he was referring him to Henry Dorkin, a CF specialist at Floating Hospital - I had to tell Dan, I knew this time would come. I remember thinking then that at least it wasn't cancer.
I had worked with CF babies when I was a visiting nurse in New Hampshire years before - I hardly knew what CF was or what I was supposed to do except to give those babies chest PT - I remember stretching my legs out and laying them upside down on my legs so their heads pointed to the floor. I would cup their little backs and then do their sides and front. Never thought I would be trying to do it to my own son years later when he was a teenager. A PT would come to our house, and I could hear the cupping sound downstairs - it was so loud I thought Dan would come down through the floor! Sometime the PT could not make it - I would try but I didn't have the strength or stamina to do a good job of it for Dan.
Now here we are at MGH listening to a Social Worker, Ann LaFleur telling us that Dan needs 2 caregivers after the transplant. I had always thought that I would be the primary caregiver - for some reason I never thought Dan was going to get married - then he met Amanda and his life changed. So now I am the back up primary caregiver - I told them both I would do whatever they needed.
Ann told us that there will be multiple follow up appointments - at least 2x weekly - Mondays and Thursdays - get there early for lab work - don't take any of the 14 pills before the labs. Then there might be chest X-rays or scans or echoes or bronchs before seeing doctors, nurses, other disciplines - a long tiring day.
But, before all that, comes getting on the transplant list - the evaluation is a long series of tests - Dan had some during Christmas school vacation and finished them up this week. The transplant team meets weekly and reviews the candidate and test results - eventually decides to accept or reject the patient - gives them a score and then he/she is listed on the transplant list. The score is 1-100 - below 30 is considered not ready for transplant - the person is not on oxygen 24/7 or is able to function fairly well. Over 80 is a disqualification - the person is too sick and deconditioned to survive a transplant or will not recover enough to improve his/her quality of life. So between 31 and 79 is the place to be, I guess. The average wait on the list is 22-29 days.
Ann LaFleur went on to say that if you make the list and live over 2 hours from MGH, you should consider staying closer to the hospital while you wait for your lungs. Dan said it took them about an hour and a half to get there from Leominster. Ann said that MGH subsidizes Beacon House where patients and families can stay before and after the transplant - families can also stay while the patient is in the hospital - it is $69/night. LaQuinta hotel is 2 miles away and has a special rate of $100/night for families - they also provide a shuttle back and forth to MGH.
Ann said when Dan gets the call - do not rush in - no need for a police escort - but don't delay.  Ann Marie the nurse practitioner explained that when she hears that lungs are available, she goes through MGH's listing to see if there is a match. If there is, she sends out the procurement team to collect the lungs - then she calls the patient and tells them to head in. She needs Dan to give her 3 phone numbers - she starts at the top and calls until she gets someone - so our phones have to be charged at all times and within reach. Ann Marie gets the rest of the team rolling which includes setting up the operating room. When the patient arrives, he/she is whisked away to get ready - and the family gets to wait for an awfully long time - could be over 8-10 hours.
The doctor on the procurement team examines and tests the donor lungs and says yea or nay. If nay, everything stops and the team and patient go home. If yea, there is only a 6 hour window once the lungs are procured from the donor to get them transplanted - and that includes transportation time back to MGH. Ann Marie said they have had patients intubated and ready for surgery then had to cancel because the surgeon rejected the lungs. So when the call comes, it is not definite - it could be a no go.
However, if all goes right, and the transplant is done, Dan would go to ICU from the OR. After he is off the breathing machine, he has to have a speech and swallow exam before he can eat or drink anything so he does not aspirate anything down into the new lungs which could cause infection.  Dan is in ICU for 3-5 days then transferred to the transplant floor where he starts real physical therapy, med teaching, and gets ready to go home. He will be in the hospital 3+ weeks. The caregivers meet with a pharmacist, the nurse practitioner, PT, etc for extensive teaching. Dan needs a caregiver 24/7 for at least 1 month at home - he will be on new meds so the caregiver has to watch for any side effects from meds, any signs of rejection or infection plus keep track of med changes as well as take Dan into MGH 2+ times weekly for follow up appointments. And this doesn't include the regular day to day meals, laundry, cleaning, etc!!
Someone mentioned that the high doses of Prednisone might make Dan crabby so we need to be prepared for that. He can't drive for the first 3 months - no swimming or hot tub for a year in case he would swallow the water - but WE can enjoy his pool and new hot tub!!
Preventing infection is tantamount - do not visit if you are sick or have been in contact with someone who is sick. Frequent hand washing is important - and that applies to the flu as well as a transplant. Sarah the pharmacist told us that a lung transplant is different and more delicate than any other transplant because each time Dan breathes, he is exposing his new lungs to the outside air and everything in it. Dan will have lost the protection of the secretions of his original lungs.
Other problems that could arise are diabetes from the Prednisone, kidney disease from all the meds, increased risk of skin cancer.
We also met with a pharmacist and a speech therapist during this transplant class. Everyone said the transplant will be very costly - start fundraising. Ann Lafleur I guess is especially fond of spaghetti dinners from what the others said about her. She also mentioned silent auctions and a patient who had friends who were musicians - they got together one night for a fundraiser,
Someone gave out a list of 14 meds that would be taken postop - Dan is to check with his insurance to see if they are covered and what the copay is - one gentleman at the class said his insurance does not cover Tobi nebulizer which costs $7000/month - so that fellow has to pay out of pocket.
Besides copays for meds or the cost of the meds themselves, there are hospital copays - Dan's was $750 for MGH, but I'm not sure what it is now, parking and meals while he is in the hospital and for the 2+ days per week for follow up testing, a spirometer which is about $500 that he uses at home and insurance does not cover - they also have to maintain their mortgage, utilities, car payment and most importantly their insurance coverage.
Ann encouraged caregivers to work while patients are in the hospital - ask other family members to visit while the caregivers are working - this will cut down the time Amanda and I have to take off from work.
So my traveling this week was a lot different than anything I had done before - but I learned a lot! Now we are waiting for Dan's appointment at MGH in March - he will likely be listed then - and the real countdown will begin!














Saturday, January 6, 2018

Aunt Nellie and Freddie

Marcel Albert and Ann Cyr are married in Winn, Penobscot, Maine on 9 Mar 1886.
Their son, Frederick Albert, is born March 30, 1888 in Kingman, Maine. He is the second living child of Marcel Albert and Annie Cyr. The birth certificate states this is a legitimate birth!
The birth certificate also tells us that Marcel Albert is a 36 year old white male born in St. Leonards, New Brunswick, Canada.  He is a woods contractor - I'm not sure what that is exactly.
Annie is a 20 year old white housewife who was born across the St. Johns River in Van Buren, Maine. She is reporting her son's birth. It is received by the town clerk on Feb. 16, 1938! What the heck! 1938!
Kingman town clerk Ada L. O'Roak certifies that the above information is correct on Feb. 16, 1938.






The website -- http://www.etravelmaine.com/region/aroostook/van-buren-maine/ -- tells us that "Van Buren is one of Maine’s most northerly towns, hugging the United States border with New Brunswick. Nicknamed “The Gateway to the St. John Valley,” the town is proud of its heritage as a riverside community. The area was originally settled by the French, and those historical ties continue today, with approximately 75% of Van Buren residents habitually speaking French."

The website  -- http://www.etravelmaine.com/region/aroostook/van-buren-maine/ -- explains that:
Saint-Léonard is a Canadian town in Madawaska CountyNew Brunswick.
It is located on the east bank of the Saint John River opposite Van Buren, Maine, to which it is connected via the Saint Leonard-Van Buren Bridge.
Saint-Léonard was once a popular town during Prohibition in the United States as it was easy to smuggle alcohol to Van Buren.
The town's economy is driven by potato farming and a J.D. Irving Limited sawmill. Saint-Léonard is officially bilingual but it is predominantly a Francophone community.

On June 30, 2008, a truck carrying 12 million bees overturned near Saint-Léonard. This accident was the first of its kind in New Brunswick.




The red icon shows Kingman, Maine where Freddie was born.

Kingman is an extinct plantation and town, now an unorganized territory (township) in the East Central Penobscot township in Penobscot County, Maine. It was first organized as McCrillis Plantation in 1859; reorganized as Independence Plantation in 1866; then incorporated as the Town of Kingman in 1873. The town's incorporation was surrendered and its status was demoted to Kingman Plantation in 1935. Kingman's plantation organization was repealed in 1945, and since then it has been unorganized territory (a township). Whew! Got that?

According to the United States Census Bureau, the unorganized territory has a total area of 25.4 square miles, of which 25.0 square miles is land and 0.4 square miles, or 1.42%, is water.

I haven't been able to find anything else about Freddie until we get to 1941.

I found a 1941 postcard from Freddie Albert to Peggy Keohane, my mother's sister  - looks like Freddie was at 184 Main Street in Falmouth. I think the postmark is for August 12, 1941. One side of the postcard shows a scene from Camp Edwards in Bourne. 



National guard training took place on upper Cape Cod from 1908. In 1935 Governor James Michael Curley signed a bill to purchase land for a Military Reservation. Between 1935 and 1940 this was the site of the largest WPA project in Massachusetts (Works Project Administration.)
In 1940 the U.S. Army leased the reservation to build housing and facilities for troops coming through for training. After Pearl Harbor was bombed and the USA joined the war, a convalescent hospital was established on the base where Army nurses were trained before shipping out overseas.    



"Dear Peggie
How are you
Have a nice job for the summer - give my regards to all
Freddie
184 Main Street Falmouth"



188 Main Street in Falmouth is now Anejo - the Mexican restaurant - the red brick building on the right. 178 Main Street is Twigs which is the next building to the left - 176  Main Street is Lemon Lime Hair Salon which is behind the tree on the left. So 184 must have been located where part of Anejo is now located.

We know the Russells have their summer home off Jones Road. When did Freddie start working for the Russells?

In April 1942, Freddie's World War II draft registration is serial number 3135. He is living at 57 Clarendon Street in Boston. He has a phone - Hubbard 6022. He is 53 years old and was born in Kingman, Maine, USA on March 30, 1888.
Miss Helen Keohane of 182 Marlboro St., Boston will always know his address.
Freddie is working temporarily for Western Union Telegraph at 230 Congress St., Boston.
Freddie signs that the above information is true.





57 Clarendon Street is the wooden door in the center beside the rounded building.


Freddie is living on Clarendon Street near the South End, not near the Back Bay - it is the section between Columbus Avenue and Tremont Street. 


#230 Congress Street is the building on the left - it was originally the headquarters for the Western Union Corporation.

The website - http://www.u-s-history.com/pages/h1801.html - gives us a little information about Western Union.
"The New York and Mississippi Valley Printing Telegraph Company, now Western Union, began as a financial services and communications company in 1851. The firm expanded by buying out a number of competitive companies. In 1856, the company changed its name to Western Union Telegraph Company in anticipation of its ability to send telegraphs from the east coast to the west coast. The company completed its first transcontinental telegraph line in 1861, then went on to offer a variety of money- and time-related services to the public. In 1884, the company was one of the first 11 to list on the Dow Jones Transportation Average in the New York Stock Exchange (NYSE)."

By April 1942 when Freddie registered for the draft, the US had been in the war since the previous December. I wonder what Freddie was doing - young men had likely joined the military - was he delivering telegrams? He states the job was temporary. Did he learn to use a telegraph? I would love to know!

Western Union delivery boys - photo from Seattle’s Museum of History and Industry.

Page 2 of Freddie's WWII draft registration tells us that Freddie is white, is 5' 7 1/2" tall, weighs 148 lbs. He has hazel eyes, gray hair and a light brown complexion.




In 1942, Aunt Nellie was listed as a maid at 182 Marlborough St.




Aunt Nellie’s husband Freddie was a cook at the Coconut Grove. I think he was working the night of that terrible fire but managed to escape. I included some information on the fire.

The Cocoanut Grove was a restaurant or supper club near Park Square in Boston. According to cocoanutgrovefire.org, " 'The Grove' as it was called by locals, was the place to see and be seen. World-renowned personalities would stop in at the Cocoanut Grove when in Boston; Boston politicians were regulars, the Red Sox and Bruins held celebrations there; families and college students would go to the Grove for those special occasions and anniversaries. It was not unusual for Boston area racketeers to be among the guests."

The website - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cocoanut_Grove_fire - tells us that "The club had opened in 1927 as a partnership between two orchestra leaders, Mickey Alpert and Jacques Renard. (Although neither held an interest in the club by 1942, Alpert was leading the house band the night of the fire.) It was located at 17 Piedmont Street, in the Bay Village neighborhood of Boston, a few blocks south of the Boston Public Garden. Alpert and Renard's mob-connected financiers gained control and opened a speakeasy in the complex, and it gained a reputation for being a gangland hangout. Gangland boss and bootlegger Charles "King" Solomon, also known as "Boston Charlie," owned the club from 1931 to 1933, when he was gunned down in the men's room of Roxbury's Cotton Club nightclub in 1933.[2] Ownership passed to Solomon's lawyer Barnet "Barney" Welansky, who sought a more mainstream image for the club while he privately boasted of his ties to the Mafia and to Boston Mayor Maurice J. Tobin. He was known to be a tough boss who ran a tight ship: hiring teenagers to work as busboys for low wages, and street thugs who doubled as waiters and bouncers. He locked exits, concealed others with draperies, and even bricked up one emergency exit to prevent customers from leaving without paying.[3] Coincidentally, on the night of the fire, he was still recovering from a heart attack in a private room at Massachusetts General Hospitalwhere some of the victims would be sent.

November 28, 1942


bostonfireistory.org



altasobscura.com

The website cocoanutgrovefire.org has the following:

"It was the Saturday after Thanksgiving, and the night of the highly anticipated football game between rivals Boston College and Holy Cross. Nearly a year after Pearl Harbor, men and women were looking for ways to forget about the war for a few hours. Crowds pushed night clubs and theaters beyond their limits. The Cocoanut Grove night club was no exception. Already a very popular venue, a new bar, the New Broadway Lounge, had recently opened within the night club. The night club was very crowded, with some estimates as high as a thousand people.
The fire was first noticed around 10:15 p.m. in the Melody Lounge, which was located in the basement. According to witnesses, it immediately spread throughout the Melody Lounge between the false cloth ceiling and the plywood ceiling above it, then ascended the stairway.


According to District Fire Chief John P. Vahey’s November 1970 report to the Fire commissioner:
(Excerpts)
As the fire rushed up the stairway it traveled near the ceiling and above the heads of the persons ascending to make their way out of the building. The movement of this fire and great volume of carbon monoxide gas generated by lack of oxygen was accelerated by the narrow (4 feet) width of stairway which acted like a chimney adding a draft of suction to the room below. In the stairway the partially unburned gas rapidly mixed with air and increased the temperature and rapidity of flow.
The burning mass passed from the top of the stairway into a narrow connecting corridor. At this end of the corridor was an exit door leading to Piedmont Street (this door was locked the night of the fire). The other exit from the Melody Lounge was by means of a door (used by waiters) leading to a passageway to the kitchen. Located in this passageway was a door leading to an outside alleyway. (This door was locked the night of the fire).  
Fire appeared in the street floor lobby within two to four minutes after it was first seen in the Melody Lounge. It was described as traveling rapidly as a “ball of fire” below the ceiling and a yellowish or blue color.
Most of the lights on the premises became extinguished immediately upon the appearance of the fire.
The fire in the corridor of the Foyer appeared to have been accelerated by a large ventilating fan placed over the further end of the Caricature Bar acting to draw air from the Foyer along the length of the Caricature Bar. 
As fire traveled through the lobby toward the Caricature Bar it was soon followed by a thick cloud of smoke. The fire then traversed the length of the area containing the Caricature Bar.
Some few persons, including persons coming from the basement Melody Lounge passed through the revolving door on Piedmont Street before the mass of flames reached it. The door then appears to have jammed. There was a very great pouring of flames through the exit. The great majority of persons on the street floor had no warning of the fire until the flames actually appeared in the lobby.
Upon reaching the Main Dining Room the flame, moving rapidly, swept high about the room near the ceiling, shortly followed by a cloud of dense smoke described by witnesses as acrid.
The burning and decomposition of wall coverings once again produced material largely gaseous and capable of further combustion and vary rapid movement.
The great mass of partially burned gases spread from the Main Dining Room and into the Broadway Lounge.
The rapidly pouring mass of burning gaseous material appeared to have been depressed from its high elevation within the premises in order to pass through the exits. Persons attempting to pass through the exits were overcome by the great heat of fire and of the gaseous material pouring through them at the time.
The fire, within five minutes after it was first seen in the basement room, entirely traversed the street floor of the main building and had passed to the entrance to the Broadway Lounge.  
Until such time as they were brought under control, the flames poured out of the exits on Piedmont Street, Shawmut Street and Broadway.
The firefighters had the fire out in little over an hour. The cause of the fire was never determined, and according to the Boston Fire Department’s official report, the origin of the fire is indicated as 'unknown.' "

For the official tally, 498 died as a result of the fire, and 116 were injured.





WBZ photo



bostonfireistory.org

What a terrible tragedy - I seem to think that I heard that Freddie escaped out a window in the kitchen or in the back of the nightclub. Maybe someone else in the family remembers more details. 

I always felt a connection to this tragedy since going to Boston College nursing school. 

On a happier note, Hannie Huliston had told me about a visit to Aunt Nellie on Marlboro Street. Hannie went into the bathroom – guess who was just sitting in there – hiding? Aunt Nellie had hidden Freddie in the bathroom so Hannie and whomever she was with would not see him. They had not yet married, and Aunt Nellie had told no one about Freddie. Hannie said neither of them said anything, and she just shut the door – she never said anything to Aunt Nellie either!! 

 The index to Massachusetts Marriages 1946 to 1950 lists Frederick Albert's marriage in 1946 in Boston in volume 35 page 33. 

I think it was Frances Keohane Smith who told me that Aunt Nellie married Frederick (Freddie) Albert 15 December 1946 in Boston.   I hadn't been able to find any marriage certificate online. I think Frances also told me that Aunt Nellie got married at St. Cecilia's which is known as the maids' Church. So I wrote to the Church and Bingo! Frances was right!


Frederick Albert and Ellen Keohane were married December 15, 1946 by Reverend Charles Riley - witnesses were William Raltman and Margaret Raltman.

Saint Cecilia Parish was established in 1888. At that time the Back Bay section of Boston along Commonwealth Avenue and Beacon Street was the residential section of the Yankee aristocracy. The maids (“Irish working out girls”) and coachmen who served these residents had long requested a church of their own. When Archbishop Williams granted their request and carved the parish from the territory of the Cathedral, they built a magnificent church out of their meager earnings.
The church was dedicated on April 22, 1894. Its architecture is Romanesque, XII Century Norman. The main altar, notable for its massive simplicity, was carved from a single block of white  Carrara marble. The painting in the center reredos is a reproduction of da Vinci’s The Last Supper, and the dome above is an array of 24K gold rosettes.

Hannie also said that one evening Aunt Nellie, Freddie, and another couple came up the back stairs on Green Street with flowers and wine or champagne. Aunt Nellie announced that they had just been married. Hannie said she and my mother were hysterical in another room thinking of Aunt Hannah’s reaction. Turns out my father, John Manning, had to drive my mother with Mae Keohane and Aunt Nellie to tell Aunt Hannah. Hannie said my mother told her that Aunt Hannah kept crying “my only sister and you didn’t tell me!” 



"Ellen Keohane i.e. Aunt Nellie and her new husband (only husband) Fred Albert"




In the 1947 Boston Directory Freddie is listed as a houseman at the rear of 182 Marlborough - Ellen is his wife. 



In 1948 Nellie Keohane is a maid at 182 Marlborough Street, but she continues to be listed as Ellen in Freddie's listing.




Tragically, Freddie died 30 July 1954 in Falmouth, Massachusetts after a fall from a balcony. Later,  when we were kids and would visit Aunt Nellie at Mr. Russell’s, I was sure I could see Freddie’s blood on the bricks below the balcony. 

Name:Frederich Albert
[Frederick Albert
SSN:028143807
Birth Date:30 Mar 1888
Death Date:30 Jul 1954
Claim Date:4 Aug 1954
Type of Claim:Death Claim
Notes:20 Aug 1976: Name listed as FREDERICH ALBERT; 18 Aug 1978: Name listed as FREDERICK ALBERT






1957 Boston Directory lists Nellie Albert,widow of Fred, maid r182 Marlborough St.




Ma and Aunt Nellie on Green Street



Some time after Freddie died, Aunt Nellie got my grandmother a job as housekeeper/laundress with Mr. Russell.

We always had to be quiet and sneak in to see or pick up Aunt Nellie and Ma when they were working for Mr. Russell – both in Boston and Falmouth. When we went to visit Aunt Nellie, she would hang a dishcloth on the hedges on Jones Road if it was safe for us to drive into the house - meaning that "himself" was out so the coast was clear.

Eventually, the dishcloth wasn't needed. I remember my father giving Mr. Russell a big wave as we drove in the driveway - Mr. Russell would be sitting on the porch reading the newspaper.


Approaching house as we drove in from Jones Road - the pond would be to the left.

Mr. Russell would be sitting in a rocking chair on the right side of the porch.

Patty, Jimmy, and Christine in front of the house after Mr. Russell died.


This is the side of the house we would enter - near the kitchen and laundry. That's our station wagon in the driveway.



Same view as above but overgrown.




Jimmy, Pops, and Christine checking out the house.








Patty with Christine and Jimmy in driveway.


Patty, Christine, Johnny, Pops holding Jody, and Jimmy in the driveway heading to barn.


My family and the Hulistons would rent the Cullen's run down cottage in Falmouth Heights for the first 2 weeks in July. My family was in back - the Hulistons were in front - they usually stayed for 3 weeks. I remember Aunt Nellie riding her bicycle over from Mr. Russell's - she would have ham and a lovely sweet bread - like a Portuguese sweet bread - in the basket of her bike - it would still be warm when she arrived. 

I don't know how long Aunt Nellie and Ma stayed with Mr. Russell - maybe until he died in July 1961?