The Nightmare

I wake in a panic at 2:20 AM. I had just looked out my front door which is a glass storm door and I see the water has risen to 18 inches from the ceiling of the room I am in. 

I have had a screaming match with a deceased female cousin in law. She brought a couple of her small children and stayed at our house for a few days. She wanted to pay me $150 for her visit but I refused it.  I was being accused of stealing even though I didn’t do it.  I noticed my wallet was left outside of my pocketbook and when it was handed back to me by an African American female housekeeper she assured me that she was simply trying to protect my credit cards since I left my pocketbook lying around carelessly and people at a table in the corner of the room had taken it out of my pocketbook so it wouldn’t be stolen. I assured her I wasn’t accusing her of anything like that and I apologized for all she was being put through during this Pandemic and I thanked her for continuing to work during this time of the virus. She seemed appreciative of my comments. 

At some point my cousin in law’s Mom showed up and her daughter who had been angry and screaming at me had just finished telling her how terrible I had been treating her. I tried to give my side of the story and she seemed  somewhat sympathetic since she was aware of how her daughter could be but then again she didn’t seem completely convinced.  

My son had recently left the house in a small boat and when I realized the water was rising and I didn’t have much time, I attempted a call him on my cellphone to ask him to please come back to the house and pick me up.  I’m not sure where my cousin in law and her mother went or where the rest of the people at a table in the corner of the room all went ( dreams are weird and disjointed a lot of the time ).   I was in a panic waiting to see if I would be rescued before the water reached the ceiling and I drowned.  This is the point I woke up startled and shaken by my horrible dream only to remember the pandemonium outside my home and throughout my country is an equally horrifying nightmare, only worse because I can’t wake up from it on my own. I am helpless. 

My Memories of Joyce

I’ve known Joyce for as long as I can remember.  And all my memories are wonderful.  

My first memory occurred in Friendsville, Pa when I was quite young.  Junie and Joyce lived in a little house on the Main Street of Friendsville and my family was invited to stay for a few nights during the summer.  We slept upstairs in a room where the heat came up to warm us through a hole in the floor.  I found it fascinating.   There was an outhouse behind and to the left of the main house and I remember walking there with my Mother in the pitch black nighttime air.   It was a wonderful adventure and I wasn’t afraid at all.  I had my mother beside me and we were in an area my grandparents always referred to as “God’s Country.”   Junie was my mother’s first cousin and Joyce was his wife.   Although Joyce was not a blood relative, she was as close to me and my family as any blood relative I have ever had.   She was magnanimous, generous and caring.   

Another early memory occurred at my house in Brooklyn, NY when Junie and Joyce were there for a visit.   Extended family frequently sat at the dining room table playing Canasta, Poker, and other card games.  On one such occasion, Joyce had her new baby with her, probably her first born child, Marilyn. Marilyn started fussing and Joyce realizing it was time for a feeding; nonchalantly put her baby to her breast.  My Uncle Joe Marski, quite the prude, went nuts!  He screwed up his face, reacted in horror and shook his head in disgust.   Joyce, calm and unfazed by his reaction, continued to feed her child. The card game continued uninterrupted.  No one else in the room batted an eye.

My brother, Marty, recalls the excitement he felt throughout the entire school day when he knew  it was the day that the Fitzgerald Family would be arriving for a visit.  He couldn’t wait to get home and join in the fun.  

We remember a marvelous summer week at Junie and Joyce’s house in Montrose, Pa.  The family upstairs had gone away and Joyce arranged for us to stay while they were out of town.  The Fries Family, Marie O’Donnell’s Family and Marie’s mother (Mrs. Murphy) and My Aunt Anne O’Donnell and my Grandpa TJ O’Donnell were all there together along with the Fitzgeralds.  We were sleeping both upstairs and down, in every available bed, all over the place.  Joyce had an open, welcoming way, and in spite of the chaos we had the time of our lives.   Sharon, Diane, Marilyn and I became copy cat “Lennon Sisters” as we sang Allegany Moon and rehearsed over and over again until we performed to “Director” Marilyn’s satisfaction.  TJ O’Donnell spent his days up at the courthouse at the top of the hill, listening to the trial in session at the time and making his own conclusion as to who was guilty.  There was a Fireman’s Carnival that week and Sharon and I, as 12 year olds, wandered in freedom looking for a guy we named “Flat Top”.   Joyce was the heart of these events and my heart is filled with gratitude for all the fun and good times she created for so many.

At our wedding, Junie and Joyce, squirreled away a salt and pepper shaker so Bob and I would have a souvenir of that fateful day in September 1971.  We hope to use it at our fast approaching 50^thAnniversary. 

Bob really got to know the Fitzgeralds in 1972 when, on our way back from a motor trip across country, I suggested that we stop in at 409 Clayton Ave to say a quick hello to my Fitzgerald cousins.  Well that quick hello turned into a delicious home cooked meal of pork chops and mashed potatoes as Joyce insisted we sit at the kitchen table and join them for dinner.  We ended up staying overnight that night and the Bob Buchner – Fitzgerald Family bond was cemented and sealed from that moment onward.  

Joyce was fun, no nonsense, honest and direct.  She was a comfort to be near.  When my dear Mother was suffering from a heartbreaking bout of anxiety and depression, she came to the Binghamton area with the intention of attending a “Coleman Cousins Get-together”.  At the last minute, she decided she wasn’t up to going to the Cousins Party, but instead wanted to go see Joyce.  I believe my father took them to that Chicken and Dumplings place in Great Bend.  I remember feeling so immensely grateful for Joyce during that time.  I’m betting that Joyce was the shelter in the storm for many people over her lifetime.  I’m betting there are a million such stories.   I for one can say that I always felt completely at home with Joyce. 

Joyce was creative and generous with her creations.  She went out of her way to make you exactly what she knew you would like.   

Joyce was one of the most accepting, non-judgmental human beings I have ever known.  I never felt afraid to tell her anything.   Thanks for giving me this gift. 

Every trivia event, every party was made better when Joyce was present. 

Bob and I were disappointed that we weren’t able to see Joyce lately.  We tried on several occasions, but for one reason or another, it just didn’t work out.   Nevertheless, we remember you Joyce, and we hold you in our hearts, and we hope that you know how much we love you.

Letter from the Chaplain - Joe’s 1st and last Communion

HEADQUARTERS

38^th INFANTRY REGIMENT

APO 248, c/o Postmaster

San Francisco, California

                                                                                       14 November 1951

Mrs. Marie O’Donnell

73 Linden Street

Brooklyn, New York

Dear Mrs. O’Donnell:

I write, Mrs. O’Donnell, to express to you my heartfelt sympathy in the loss of your beloved husband, First Lieutenant Joseph O’Donnell, 0-1059578, Company A, 38^th Infantry Regiment.  On 7 October just after Sunday Mass I met Joseph for the first time.  He and another officer, Lieutenant Paul Zinsky, had arrived at the regiment just the day before, and were on the way to the first battalion to which both of them had been assigned.  As I was going past their unit, Joseph and Paul rode along in my Jeep.  It was quite a long ride, which took us over a rather high mountain pass, so that there was ample time to get acquainted.   I told them all that I knew about Korea and the war, while Joe talked mostly of you and the children.   It was easy to see that he loved his family very dearly.

The following Wednesday I offered up Holy Mass in the field for the first battalion, as they were to go on the line the following day.   Joseph attended this Mass and received Holy Communion as well.  The next day Joseph’s unit went into the attack.  Your husband was platoon leader, and though he was with his men only a few days, they had the greatest respect and admiration for him.  This action took place in the vicinity of Mondang-ni, North Korea, on a ridge line, 1,100 meters high.  In this very difficult terrain Joseph personally led two assaults against the enemy.  Both times he came through without being wounded.  Some time later when another platoon needed help, your husband rushed forward to assist them.   As he did so an enemy mortar round exploded not more than a foot or so from Joseph, wounding him in the head.  He died instantly, and thus was spared any prolonged suffering.

Several days after this engagement I was able to say Mass just a few yards from the place where Joseph was killed.  This was offered for all the members of Company A, who had given their lives in that action.

You should make a sincere effort, Mrs. O’Donnell not to let bitterness take possession of your heart in your loss of such a brave and good husband.  Joseph would want you, I am sure, to be brave and courageous for the sake of your children and his.  They are the greatest heritage he has left you.   If at times your burden of sorrow seems too heavy lean heavily on Our Lord and His Sorrowful Mother for help and consolation.

Should you desire any further information, Mrs. O’Donnell, do not hesitate to write me.

Your husband, Joseph, and all the other brave men of the 38^th Regiment who made the supreme sacrifice, are remembered daily at the altar. May God grant them all eternal rest, and peace and comfort to you in your bereavement.

                                                                                    James R. Meder,

                                                                                    Catholic Chaplain

My Path to Popp's

I’m always fascinated by the fact that the decisions we make, even early in our lives, lead us down certain paths and bring us to particular people and destinations that would otherwise never have been.   For example, I took a Diocesan exam in eighth grade, and was one of two female students that were invited to attend Bishop McDonald High School - absolutely free of charge.   For most, this invitation was seen as an honor and a great opportunity.   My Father, frequently driven by fear, apparently saw it more as a threat and a danger.   He didn’t want me to take dark, dank subway cars into what he described as “the bowels of Brooklyn”.   He convinced me it would be safer and less stressful for him, and for me, if I attended a Catholic School in the opposite direction.   My cousin, Nancy Sue O’Donnell, who lived next door at the time, was already attending Our Lady of Wisdom Academy (OLWA) in Ozone Park, Queens.  Therefore it was decided that I would attend OLWA, travel with my cousin on buses, instead of subway trains, and thus remain “safe”.  My father, not really a rich man, would rather pay tuition so he wouldn’t have to worry about me.   Ironically, once a week, while attending this “safe” alternative High School, I took a subway into the “bowels of Brooklyn”.  I had joined the Legion of Mary and as a service project I had volunteered to feed babies at St. Mary’s Hospital.   On one such excursion, a couple of my friends and I were “attacked” as we entered the subway stairwell.  Luckily, we were not seriously harmed since we ran like hell and made it to the safety of the token booth attendant before any real damage could be inflicted.  It was our last subway trip to St. Mary’s Hospital!    The lesson I learned was this:  Safety can be a bit of an illusion; certain things can’t be controlled.    Speaking of paths, I’m diverging off mine…..

The point is this - I ended up frequenting Popp’s Ice Cream Parlor precisely because I attended Our Lady of Wisdom Academy and Popp’s Ice Cream Parlor happened to be a midway point on my way home.  Before hopping on my second bus, I’d walk a couple of extra blocks and take a little detour into Ice Cream Parlor heaven!   The feelings of excitement, anticipation and a bit of trepidation replay in my memory.  The fact that I was in a very real sense “an Interloper” and didn’t actually live in the boundaries of the Woodhaven neighborhood, always hung heavy on my heart.   I was basically riding on the coattails of my cousin, Tom Marski, and Bob Smith, my cousin, Sharon’s new love.    When one is a young teenager, the desire for acceptance is paramount, and being an outsider, I felt my position was a bit shaky to begin with.

Before I share more of my memories, I would like to add a little caveat.  What I happen to remember, and what I perceived about people I met during the Popp’s Ice Cream Parlor Days may be very different than what others remember.  Memories are a strange and interesting phenomenon.  Two people can be in the same place at the same time and witness the same set of events yet they observe and interrupt them entirely differently.  Add on to that the passage of time, and in this instance, decades, and the memories make seem unrecognizable to others.   I hope the perceptions and memories I share with you will help you to reminisce and discovery the coming of age moments deeply hidden in your mind.

  

The Curley Family arrives in 1841

The Curley Family 

Found this information in my mother’s ( Rita O’Donnell Fries) handwriting on a piece of blue stationery. The top left piece is ripped off. ________ of Baran ( sp? ) Rogsren Tipperary 

“ The Curley family came to America via Liverpool on S/S Cambridge Captain Ira Bensley. Left Rosgren?(maybe Rosegreen) (Roscrea), Ireland about the 15th June 1841 arrived NY July 23, 1841 

From New York to Albany to Utica to Binghamton by canal. Arrived Middletown August 15, 1841. The names and ages according to passenger list was:

James Sr. 60,

Pat 27,

Lawrence 23 ( Mary Ellen Golden)

James, Jr.  21 

Hannah 19

Margaret 14

Catherine 10

Martin 8 

( Thomas was not on the list - he came to America a few years earlier)

Also on list John 26, Hannah 24 ( Bergin ) Bergin was James Curley’s wife’s maiden name - Catherine Bergin who died in Ireland before the family emigrated to America)

Prelude to Popp's Ice Cream Parlor Days

I don’t really remember the very first time I stepped into Popp’s Ice Cream Parlor, but I can just image that it wasn’t too much after my 13th birthday. That was the year I planned a major life event- my very first boy-girl party! As a matter of fact, it was such a major event that I "called in sick"  to clean a room in my basement so I would have a private place for my friends to party. When I returned to St. Michael's Elementary School the following Monday, I remember being severely reprimanded by my 8th grade teacher, Sr. James Miriam.  She asked me why I had been absent.   I guess she was expecting to hear that I had been terribly sick with some major disease or another or possibly that there had been a death in the family.  Instead, silly me, I answered her truthfully.  Overly honest and ridiculously stupid, I answered, "Sister", I said,  "I had to clean the room in the basement to get ready for my birthday party".   I was informed, in no uncertain terms, this was not a legitimate reason to miss school.   Luckily, I knew enough not to verbalize the thought going through my mind at that moment, Sister, if you saw the mess in my basement, you would have agreed with my decision to call-in sick. ‘

It was at this monumental party, in this clean, tidy room in the basement at 62 Interboro Parkway, Brooklyn, NY that I met 'the men" of Woodhaven for the very first time.  My cousin, Tom Marski brought a handful of his male friends on the bus from his Queens neighborhood, and walked them up the hill from Jamaica Avenue to attend my party.  Among the small group was a guy named Mike Roach and one of Tom's closest friends, Bob Smith.  There were a couple of other Woodhaven  guys with him  but I honestly don't remember their names (possibly Jack Sweeney and a guy who wore glasses).  Most of the evening, the guys stood in one corner of the room and the girls stood in the other.  Forever a game enthusiast, I had planned to play at least one game and this is the thing I remember most clearly about my coming of age party.  Being deeply enmeshed in my eighth grade Catholic School training, I was frightened to death that the game I had chosen as the main point of my party might be taboo and possibly a terrible sin.  It was a huge decision for me but I made the determination to go forward. So I coaxed my guests to sit in a circle on the floor and placed the bottle in the middle and spun it.   Back in the late 50's, "Spin the Bottle"was a big part of the coming-of- age party scene.

At this fateful party, Bob Smith, who had just turned 14 a week before, "fell in love" with my cousin, Sharon O'Donnell, aged 13.  Sharon was obviously smitten also as she immediately wrote me a letter ( I will post it when I locate it as it is truly priceless ) basically telling me to "keep my hands off that tall, handsome, dark-haired guy named, Bob.  She even pointed out that " Sharon Smith " was a much nicer sounding name than "Mary Smith " which was way too common.   At this point in her life, Sharon was living at 91 Craig Ave in Freeport, Long Island and  therefore she stayed overnight at my house the night of the party.  Being a weekend, the very next day, Bob Smith returned to my house to see his new love interest.   A few of us teenagers took a walk up the street to Highland Park to hang out.  I took the above photo of Bob as he sat on the wooden guard in front of the Interboro Parkway.  He was shaking his finger at me and saying, "Don't you dare take my picture" as I snapped my little Brownie flash.
I guess when Bob spun the bottle, it must have landed on Sharon!
By the way, I don't think any serious sins were committed that day.

Unusual Attire by Today's Standards

Apparently they dressed the boys differently "back in the day."
This is a photo of Michael J. O'Reilly, the son of Bridget Byrne O'Reilly and Patrick O'Reilly.  I met my Aunt Bridge when I was a young child and we were invited to spend a week or so at her farm house in St. Joseph, Pa. I remember her as a very, very old lady lying in her bed in one of the downstairs's bedrooms (I remember going behind the steps to get to her bedroom door) in the farmhouse on Route 267 across the road from St. Joseph's Roman Catholic Church in St. Joseph, Pa.
I believe there may have been a cat lying on the bed quilt with her.   Once, while we were visiting in the summer, my brothers and I inadvertently ate her last zwieback cookie and my father had to drive all over creation (actually about 30 miles into a little "Ma and Pa" store on Pennsylvania Avenue) to find some more of them since these were the mainstay of Aunt Bridge's diet.  I'm not sure when Michael O'Reilly died but I don't remember ever meeting him.

Christopher Byrne Negotiates for the Farm in Friendsville/Choconut

Christopher Byrne 

I inherited some documents from, I believe Mary Byrne Bahan ( the granddaughter of the man in the above photo and the daughter of one of his sons - Patrick Byrne and his wife Agatha ).  The farm being negotiated was also known as "Lakeside". It was previously owned by a man named Charles Neale ( of the City of Brooklyn )  and prior to that it was owned by Thomas Doney ( of the City of New York ).  I have a Deed that reads Thomas Doney to Charles Neale for Farm in Susquehanna County Pa., July 10, 1849 

The land is described as being in the township of Choconut in the County of Susquehanna and State of Pennsylvania bounded as follows: Beginning in the middle of the Friendsville and Silver Lake road at the corner of Caleb Carmalt's land, thence North Seventy degrees East thirty seven perches  to an angle in the said road, thence along the middle of the said road North Eighty degrees East Sixty perches (except where it may interfere with the Meeting house lot  to another angle in the said road thence Hill along the middle of said road, NorthSixty nine degrees East Sixty Six perches thence by said Carmalts other land reserved for a Mill, South fourteen perches, thence East 10 perches to the line of Henry Porter's land, thence South by the same one hundred and Seventy perches to the South West corner; thence west by land of Robert Reynolds and others, One hundred and sixty four perches, to a post, thence North by said Caleb Carmalt's land, Seventy three perches to the beginning. Containing ninety-nine acres and two tenths more or less. 

The next deed I have is signed on March 10, 1863 where Charles Neale and his wife Sarah Hannah of Montrose, Pa  sell the property to Christopher Byrne of the Township of Choconut in the County of Susquehanna, Pa.( the land description is ver similar to the land description in the July 10, 1949 Deed except that some of the owners of the surrounding properties have changed,for example, the land formerly owned by Caleb Carmalt is now owned by John Mooney.