Rockaway Beach - June 29, 1947 and Dr. Carrington, MD

 

We had some great family outings at Rockaway Beach.  In this June 29, 1947 photo Grandma and Grandpa O'Donnell sit with their eldest daughter, Rita, and their grandchildren, Sharon, Tom and Mary Beth.  I have very many fond memories of times spent in the sand and salt water with extended family all around me. I wonder if we wore any sunscreen back then.  I can taste the sandy lemonade now.  We often parked near Dr. William Carrington's house at Beach 143rd Street. His home was the first house after the stone wall. He was our family doctor for many years.  He was a great guy, down to earth, boisterous, hefty, friendly and, at times, a bit outrageous.  Many times our family would be his last patients of the evening (back then the MD's had evening office hours to accommodate the family's work schedule and the fact that a lot of the Moms stayed at home and didn't drive or have an available vehicle to get to the Doctor's office.)  After he finished his official visit with us, we would get invited into his dining room (his living quarters were connected to his house on Claredon Rd in Flatbush section of Brooklyn) and he would open up his china cabinet and serve my Mom and Dad some alcoholic beverage.  Of course, he would join in on the toast.  My mother had a huge smile on her face and my father seemed so proud to have such a good rapport with our family physician.  He listened, he respected our knowledge base, he wasn't high highfalutin.  He was a joker too.  When my brother, Marty, was about 10 years old, he had to have an emergency appendectomy and when Dr. Carrington came to the bedside before surgery, Marty said, "Don't make any mistakes, Dr. Carrington".  Dr. Carrington replied, "don't worry, Marty, I bury my mistakes." How's that for a sense of humor! All in all he was one in a million, and we were lucky to have found such a gem.

Stories about T.J. O'Donnell

Grandpa O’Donnell (aka, T.J.) was a colorful character.  I was especially fond of him. 

Off the top of my head and without digging into files, these are some of the things I remember about him.

He was the youngest of three boys, all rather close in age.  His oldest brother was John; the middle brother was Frank and last but not least came T.J.  They grew up on a farm with their mother (Annie Clarke O’D) and their father, (Thomas O’Donnell) in a tiny hamlet, St. Joseph, in what is known as the “endless Mountains” of Pennsylvania.  St. Joseph is located about 26 miles south of Vestal, NY in the southern tier of NY State.  

When they became of age the three brothers left the farm in Pennsylvania and migrated to the New York City area.   John, Frank and T.J became police officers with the New York Police Department and they all settled in Brooklyn, NY.

T.J. married a girl from the “country” (the area including and surrounding St. Joseph, Pa.). Margaret Mary Coleman was someone T.J. knew from his youth.  Miss Margaret Coleman grew up in a nearby hamlet known as Middletown Center.  She completed “normal school” in order to become a teacher and she taught in Pennsylvania schools (one room school houses) for 11 years before marrying T.J. and moving to New York City.   I love the story that my grandmother, Margaret, was teaching school in one of these one- room schoolhouses, when the postman brought her a package in the mail.  When she opened to discover an engagement ring, she was so excited that she dismissed the students and sent them home early.   I guess I can understand her glee, since Margaret was almost 29 at the time of her marriage and in 1916 that was pretty much considered an old maid.

T.J. always remained very fond of the area where he was raised and would take his grandchildren (including yours truly) on tours of his old homestead and the surrounding countryside. 

After Marilyn Fitzgerald’s wedding to Jim Incitti, T.J. led a caravan of cars to St. Joseph, Pa and brought us in and out of the homes of the people who knew in the area.   He proudly referred to the area as “God’s Country” and “the garden spot of America”.    It was and remains a beautiful place.  Years ago many Irish immigrants settled in the area because it reminded them of the lush green hillsides of Ireland.  As a matter of fact, there is an area in nearby Friendsville called “Irish Hill”.   

Policeman, T. J.O'Donnell, was practically drowned in the basement

Found my Grandpa, TJ O'Donnell, practically drowned in the stuff from my Father's basement. Nonetheless, I had to share his handsome, young face with his descendants. Maybe one of the younger family members know how to use Photoshop better than I can and could fix the damage (especially to his face), The photo is marked " L.L. White" and what appears to read "100 4th Ave, New York." His shield # is 3263. Here is some family history that the younger generation may want to keep: Thomas Joseph O'Donnell. He was always known as Grandpa O'Donnell to me but I heard most people call him Dad or " T.J." . Some family members called him Uncle Joe (I guess to keep him from getting mixed up with his father who was also named Thomas)   T.J. was born on March 22, 1885 in St. Joseph, Pa.  He married Margaret Mary Coleman on January 19, 1916 at St. Patrick's Church in Middletown, PA.   He and Margaret had 6 children ( I heard that my grandmother might have lost a baby girl before she had my mother, Rita Mary, but I do not know this for certain. )  The other children are Maureen Adele O'Donnell Marski, Dorothy Regina O'Donnell, Anne Rose O'Donnell, Joseph Thomas O'Donnell,  Margaret Mary O'Donnell Foulkes.   T.J. died on October 8, 1973 in St. Vincent's Hospital, NY, NY after suffering a heart attack.   He is buried in the cemetery in Friendsville, Pa.   His mother was Annie Clarke and his father was Thomas O'Donnell - they are buried in St. Joseph Cemetery in St. Joseph, Pa.. My parents, Rita and Charles A. Fries are buried right next to Annie and Thomas O'Donnell.