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Memories of the John P. and Nellie Bek McGuinness FamilyProduced by: John McGuinness, Mary Landers, Jean Seward, Louis McGuinness, and Nell Oliver Compiled by: Louis McGuinness Edited by: Moira McGuinness IntroductionWhile our memories of our two wonderful brothers are still bright in our minds, and they are still clear, we want to set down for their many descendants how much we loved these two great guys, and relate what we can still recall of our early life together—along with thoughts concerning them as young fathers with an active, growing family. At the same time we wish to write about our parents, what we did as a family at the somewhat legendary Winthrop Street home, and what it meant to be a family in the pre-World War II and the immediate post-WWII era. It is our hope that what we present here will be of interest to the numerous descendants of our parents, John Parnell McGuinness, and Nellie Bek McGuinness.
Matrix for McGuinness Family Siblings
John Parnell McGuinnessDad was born in Hastings, Michigan in 1887, the second son of James and Emma Palmer McGuinness. Following tradition, their parents held their first born son in the highest regards, but his sisters made no secret of the fact that it was Dad, who ran and managed their modest farm, that largely kept the entire family from starving. Our father was to be extremely responsible and family oriented all the days of his life. Dad started to teach country school at the age of l6 or 17, I believe, and he had to walk about four miles each way to do the teaching! From there he worked his way through Kalamazoo Normal School. Today this institution is the prestigious Western Michigan University. Here he distinguished himself by being the captain of their football team in 1910. Dad finished his first formal college degree at the University of Michigan where he received his BA in 1912. Much later he earned a master’s degree at the University of Detroit. He finished this master’s degree in the 1930’s after he had had seven children, and he was teaching full time in Detroit. In addition to being the boy’s counselor at Cleveland Intermediate School (shortly after I was born), he was also the school’s permanent summer school and night school principal. He was a very busy person—always busy teaching, night and day, summer and winter. Dad was always a very hard- working, busy person. His own father had taught him, he used to say, "to pull weeds while you rest!" He was unusually fast, quick and logical, all at the very same time. He had an almost brilliant, logical mind. I think that we can see some of these same traits passed down through two or three generations to many of his present descendants.
Nellie Bek McGuinnessNellie Bek was the second daughter of Herbert and Jacquemina Bek. She was born in 1886 in Belmont, a rural suburban area just north of Grand Rapids, Michigan. Her father was a furniture maker in one of several Grand Rapids furniture companies owned by some Dutch person—there were several such companies there. Formerly, he had been a part owner of a tavern. He left it because he could not in good conscience take the food money from drunk fathers who would get paid and then spend the week’s wages at the tavern, while their families needed food and clothing. He had also been a partner in a failed celery farm—the frost had wiped them out. Whenever he was laid off, which was quite often, he tried to paint houses to support his family of three daughters and two sons. Mom finished what we would call high school, stood for the special township teaching examination, passed, and became a country school teacher in Belmont, an area just outside of the Grand Rapids city limits. Mom told me that she floated home on clouds after being hired to teach school—at the princely sum of sixty dollars a month—because now she could support the family when her father became unemployed again. This happened frequently at the furniture factory where he worked. Another item Mom relayed to me was that with her very first pay as a teacher, she bought her mother a winter coat. Her poor mother had not had such a luxury before! A year or two after her initial appointment as a teacher in Belmont Township, Mom, too went to the Kalamazoo Normal School, where, of course she met the young, handsome football captain.
Mom and Dad Marry 1912As indicated above, Mom and Dad met at Kalamazoo Normal School, they were married in old St. James Catholic Church in downtown Grand Rapids in August l912. Today four-lane highways surround this interesting old church. However, it is still well worth a visit. Mom and Dad brought me there once. Mother insisted on going there once when we three were in Grand Rapids, sometime after WWII. Since both Mother and Dad came from "poor" families, I assume that the wedding was a rather modest affair. Mother told me many times that her very best girlhood friend, Agnes Lysaght, was her maid of honor. Uncle Palmer was Dad’s best man. In an answer to a direct question, Mother also said that all of her family and all of Dad’s family also attended their wedding. I did not get any other details. Mom said they honeymooned at Dad’s rooming house in Ann Arbor, where Dad was a full time student working on his BA degree. This degree was required of any professional teacher who aspired to an administrative position, such as principal or superintendent, which Dad fully expected to become.
School ReunionsSometime in the 30’s I was in Grand Rapids with Mother, and we were invited to a special homecoming for Mom’s old Belmont School students. It was a picnic called in her honor put on by students she had taught years earlier, long before she had married Dad. It was held in a picnic grove where the old school had stood. I was astonished, and Mother was embarrassed, but deeply touched, at the fulsome praise that they heaped on Mom. The vast majority of those who came had not seen Mother for at least twenty years or more. Obviously she had touched the lives of the many former students who came to thank her for her educational efforts. They even thought I was important just because I was her son! This special occasion must have been before WWII, because Dad was not with us, I think he was teaching summer school back in Detroit. I also had the unusual opportunity of a completely different kind of emotional "this is your former life" sort of thing concerning Dad. This took place in Dad’s old Hastings, Michigan neighborhood. Mom was not there, but Uncle Palmer was. It was a homecoming at a museum-like old country school that Dad and Palmer had once attended as kids. I think this was sometime about l936 or ‘37. The very short meeting took place in the old country school, with all the old books and trappings and furnishings that had been there in days of old. Everyone attempted to sit in the very same seat they had occupied as kids. The conversation mostly centered on who sat where, who sat in front of them. Who was no longer living or able to come that day, etc., etc.. This homecoming was very important to Dad, obviously bringing back long held memories of his youth. Afterwards he took great pains to point out all the similarities to the two different country schoolhouses in which he had taught, and also the differences. He patiently answered every question I asked, and explained all the old equipment and furnishings. This was obviously a nostalgic event for Dad. I don’t remember that he met too many old school friends there, but he greatly enjoyed the time spent there. I am not sure why I was the only one he took back to Hastings that day. I think Mom stayed in Grand Rapids with her family on that occasion. Grand Rapids was only about an hour away by car.
John Remembers Prior Family HomesThe very first home that my brother John could remember was in Ionia where Dad found a job as the new principal of the high school. This home was an old mansion located quite close to the school. Dad had taught math in the Ypsilanti Public Schools while finishing his BA degree at the U. of M. He then tried to be hired as a math teacher in the Detroit Public School system, but at that particular time in Michigan, the public schools were decidedly anti-Catholic, and Dad could not be hired in Detroit if he was to remain as a Catholic! I know this sounds preposterous today, but it was a fact in the era of 1910—1920 plus in Michigan. A special school board election was held and Dad lost his job as high school principal in Ionia because of his religion. Next Dad moved the family to Muskegon. Mom says that Dad had a good friend (from U of M days? Or Kalamazoo?) who vouched for him at Muskegon, so Dad’s religion was overlooked. The home he obtained in Muskegon was on Filo Avenue. This was a dead end street practically in the sand dune area close to Lake Michigan. John says it went west from McCracken Street, and was almost adjacent to a rather large cemetery where he remembers wandering often. Dad had no money; he either rented or bought an old house that lacked heat, electricity, and indoor plumbing. Mom cooked on a coal stove, and kerosene stove. They also used kerosene for lighting. To support his family in the summer, Dad sold furnaces. Dad also dug a basement under this house, and installed a furnace there himself; now he could show that he really knew his product and could vouch for its quality! Mom also told the story—more than once—that she went to the local butcher/grocer and explained their lack of money at the moment to pay for groceries, so he extended credit to them which Mom and Dad quickly paid back after Dad’s first pay in October. Mom became ill here with influenza. This may have been associated with the birth of little Jean. Grandma McGuinness came to assist the family. John recalls seeing a middle-aged woman walk down the street carrying some kind of a bag or suitcase, she approached him and said, "you must be John, hello John, I’m your grandmother." "Oh no," John said. "I know my grandma, and you’re not her!" John, of course was referring to Grandmother Bek, whom he had seen many times. He could not remember seeing Grandma McGuinness. In 1917-18, Mother had the flu and almost died. Dad temporarily rented another home somewhere inside Muskegon, so that Mom could get more heat, and recover. Fortunately for the rest of us, she did recover. Dad then moved the family to a lower flat in a two family home on Lake Street. This home had steam heat. But Mom was again forced to cook on a coal stove, and there was another coal stove in the dining room. Dad installed a single electric light bulb in the kitchen; this was the only electricity in the house. They were again to use kerosene lamps in this residence, also. James was born in this residence in 1918. With the expanding automobile boom in Detroit, the city public school system decided that it might be able to withstand the terrible indignity of Catholics teaching in its public schools. This time, 1920-21 was a period of great expansion in Detroit. The city was rapidly extending outward along every one of its principal "spokes", or main streets. Dad found a job as a math teacher at either McMichael Intermediate or North Western High in Detroit. They shared the same campus. His siblings had already moved to this city a year or two ahead of him, and had moved into a home on Vinewood Avenue, where they would live for the next 30 years or more. When the family moved from Muskegon to Detroit, Dad bought a home on Woodrow Avenue just off Tireman Avenue. David was born here in 1921, and I in 1923. A family by the name of Cerce purchased it in 1924 from Dad. Mom and Dad went back to this house on business a few times, (Mrs. Cerce was an expert seamstress) and I accompanied them once or twice. It was a good sized home, in a nice quiet residential area. It was from this address that John, Mary; and Jean went to the nearby Sampson School where Aunt Maude taught. Dad walked from this house to where he taught school at the Northwestern School complex for a several year period. He also was promoted to boy’s counselor at this school.
Mary Remembers Life in the Muskegon Home My earliest memories are of Muskegon living in town in a brown frame house with gas lighting or oil lamps that came down from the ceiling and a pot bellied wood or coal stove that heated the downstairs. We probably only had one floor. The stove had eisenglass windows in the bay and you could see the flames. We were in the dining room; Jean, James and I. I remember cutting Jean’s hair with a scissors and nicked her ear. Scissors were forbidden, and I was punished. Next I remember a white frame house on the outskirts of town on Filo Avenue. It had a porch on two sides, I believe. We seemed to be right in the sand without a lawn—lovely primroses or wild roses grew in the yard in the early summer. Dad had chickens and a garden at this place. The kitchen had a wood or an oil-cooking stove. John and I and possibly Jean slept upstairs (only one bed room there). We slept in a double bed. John went to kindergarten; he took me once for a special occasion. I was wearing leggings so it was winter. He couldn’t get them off me so he left me in the coatroom. The teacher came to help me; all the schools in Michigan had a coatroom at that time. Dad or Mom used to read to us at night from a big Grimm’s Fairy Tale book. One night Dad read Jack the Giant Killer and it was so real to me I screamed and screamed when put to bed. Dad spanked me when he was climbing up the stairs (I thought he was Jack the Giant Killer). I think John egged me on! Mom cooked on a kerosene stove I believe, and we had a pot bellied stove for heat. Dad killed chickens by chopping their heads off. I was not supposed to watch, but of course I did, and I screamed about that, too. I never watched again. I hated the sight of the headless chickens flopping about the yard! The event of the signing of the armistice that ended World War I occurred while we were living on Philo Avenue. Dad took me to a Parent Teacher meeting and I played in the kindergarten sand table. I remember this was an exciting event—everyone was excited and jubilant about the war ending. Also while we lived in Muskegon, we visited a friend of Dad’s that lived in the surrounding sand dunes. The two men and some of the children went for a walk to see Lake Michigan. We walked through a wooden area and we were admonished—warned—to stay together. John went ahead; Dad and his friend were also ahead. I was left with Jean. We were supposed to stay together. I had been admiring the wild flowers—and everyone but Jean was too far ahead to see. I wanted to stay and wait for them to return, but Jean went on without me. We had all been warned about staying together and not getting lost, but she went on without me anyway. Jean was very young, probably about three. At that point I decided to go back—and when I got back and there was no John and no Jean all heck broke loose and the big search for Jean began. I think John got in trouble for leaving us. I know I got in trouble for leaving Jean. Jean was found unhurt. But to this day I know that it was Jean who left me, not the reverse! Mom had the flu while we were in Muskegon; John, Jean and Jim also had the flu, but I did not have a noticeable case of flu (I think I had a low profile case of flu, actually). Dad had to take care of everyone and was terribly beat. John also has recalled vivid memories of that Filo Avenue home in Muskegon. He remembers that Aunt Laura and Uncle Dick (Mother’s youngest sister and her husband) lived in another home about one block away. It could clearly be seen from Mom and Dad’s home. John went to a small, local Kindergarten by way of an extensive cemetery at the end of Filo Avenue. A fellow student at this stand-alone building—a converted house—was slightly younger Jimmy Armock, John’s first cousin. John also remembers that since World War I was being fought, the kids were told to bring tin foil to school each day possible. This tin foil was obtained by the parents almost daily as wrapping for tea, coffee, and some other products; it was vital for the war effort. It was regularly collected from the schools during this war period. Mary remembers taking two train trips from Muskegon—both to Detroit. The second train trip was probably the move to Detroit from Muskegon.: I got sick and vomited because I wouldn’t sit still. I was so excited I kept running in the aisles. My rag doll was lost on that trip, and I mourned her loss for years. Finally Mother told me she had thrown the rag doll out when we moved because she was so filthy! One of these trips must have been to Detroit to see the McGuinness family for I remember meeting Grandpa McGuinness for the first time. At this time I remember how Aunts Maude, Mary and Marguerite watched us very closely because their Christmas tree (it had to have been at Christmas time) had real, live candles on it, and they were justifiably afraid of fire—they were so afraid of fire that I hardly got to enjoy the tree itself.
I don’t remember moving into the Woodrow Avenue home, but I do remember being enrolled in kindergarten in the old Sampson School in the middle of the year. I also remember having to go to school with John; I also remember hanging on to his coat and I wouldn’t let go, I was so afraid of losing him. The school was the Sampson Grammar School. This is the school where I went through kindergarten and 1st grade; then I went to St. Theresa’s for the second grade so that I could make my first communion. I started school in January; in Detroit they were on the semester system; since I was five years old in December, I got to start in January, so I was able to have one semester in kindergarten and two semesters of first grade and one semester of second grade when I transferred to St. Theresa’s. I transferred to St. Theresa’s so I could make my first communion. I remember being very shy and scared in Kindergarten; I also had many earaches and sore throats and bronchitis at this time in my life. Mother eventually made me take cod live oil to build me up. I could not sing in tune so the music teacher glared at me and eventually I just mouthed the words! We all brought dolls to school so we could talk about them, I guess—a show and tell sort of thing. My doll was wooden doll, which Mom had ordered through the catalogue; the kids, of course, made fun of it—I was mortified. Also, she, the doll, had no clothes, and of course no hair—and I don’t believe it was jointed either. I do not remember kindergarten with any fondness. But I do remember with fondness the marching around in a big circle. My first grade teacher was much nicer, and the year was more enjoyable, however, I was sick for Valentine’s Day and didn’t get many valentines when I got back. I remember that one girl in my class had a velvet dress which seemed so luxurious to me. I thought she must be very rich. On our street (Woodrow) there lived a girl who had a lot of toys; she was also pretty and had nice clothes. I would walk by her house and yard and look at all her stuff; I didn’t know how to make friends with her. The kids across the street had tricycles; I had never seen any before, and I thought they were out of this world! Sampson School was on the Detroit invented Platoon System—which meant we went to different classrooms for different subjects (except in kindergarten). This meant that in the 1st and 2nd grade we went to different classrooms for gym, music, and science and to assembly in the auditorium. I found life in Detroit better than in Muskegon; it was more exciting—we went to see Grandma McGuinness and the aunts, frequently, especially on Sundays. Palmer and Philip did not live on Vinewood with Grandma and the aunts at this time. Another part of the excitement, I was going to school. A milkman delivered milk in bottles daily. We bought ice for the icebox from an icehouse. We usually took it home in a red wagon. An Italian gentleman who had a horse and wagon sold vegetables and fruit. He also came to the house. We could and did walk to the store for bread and staples, and even from time to time to a bakery. We also walked to the drug store. The doctor lived at the end of the street in a basement apartment. His apartment was a brick building, which faced on Tireman, our main street. The stores were also on Tireman. I made friends with a girl down the street who lived in a basement apartment. Her father was a policeman. This family was Polish; there were five children in the family, and I think they were the only other Catholic family on our street. The first fall season we were in this community we experienced the "begging" tradition associated with Halloween. This is now called "trick or treating". It was very exciting to me—but I had to enjoy it from my bedroom window for I had earaches and a sore throat again. John was the only one that got to go out begging. The other kids on the block did play at night on the street, under the streetlights, but Mom and Dad did not allow us to do so—early to bed was our routine. Mom was always tired of us, and so was Dad; d Dad had to get up and go to work early, and Mom had to get breakfast, etc. etc. Housework was much harder in those days; the washing and the ironing took two or three days. Then there were the meals, the daily chores and cleaning. Grandma and Grandpa Bek came to visit us on Woodrow Avenue by train every summer. I got to go to the station with Dad; I loved the Grand Central Station, although I think they sometimes came to the Grand Trunk Station. It was much smaller and less ostentatious. For years I thought it would be fun to go sit in the train station and watch people coming and going. This seemed very exciting to me. Our next-door neighbor had a bed of cosmos flowers all along her fence. I thought these were the most beautiful flowerbeds I had ever seen. We loved to go over there and just touch and look at them—Jean, James and I. Mom loved flowers, too, but didn’t have time to grow any until we moved several miles out Grand River from Woodrow. This same lady also had peonies, which I also thought were gorgeous, and do to this very day, but I have never been able to grow them. Mom did plant weeping Mulberry trees in the back yard, and we often played under them, Jean, James and I. Jean and I played with celluloid and other dolls; I also sewed and tried to crochet for them. Grandma Bek taught me to crochet, and both Grandma Beck and Grandma McGuinness taught me to sew. We were still living on Woodrow when Aunt Mary Conklin got married to Charles Conklin. I remember she and Uncle Charles arriving in a chauffeur driven car on the way to Cleveland. Aunt Mary had her bridal bouquet, for Mother I presume. I think that was the reason for their stopping. They did not get out of the car, but I was so excited to see Aunt Mary and Uncle Charles on their way to their honeymoon! Mom sent me to the store one day, and I had to take David. He walked slowly, and he loved trucks. We had to cross Woodrow at Tireman. A truck was coming and David froze in the middle of the street staring at the truck. He loved seeing it so close, I think. I tugged at him, tried to lift him up to get him across the street, but he was too heavy for me, so I finally ran to the opposite curb myself. The man driving the truck stopped, and I ran back and got David. I felt so guilty; I knew Mother would have killed me if she had known. This was only a rather small truck; trucks and cars moved much more slowly in those days! All in all, I remember a very happy childhood on Woodrow. Dad diked the back yard one winter and flooded it for ice-skating. There was an alley behind our back fence and Jim and John went "alley picking" or first learned about it there on Woodrow. They built an apartment or a flat on the corner lot, two homes away from us, and we kids played in it after the builders left for the day. It was framed and two story, with the cement basement not yet poured. The stairwell had sloping boards to the next level. Jim fell from the second floor clean through to the basement and landed on his head. I thought we all were in deep trouble since we weren’t supposed to be at this new house location. I think brother James was even "out" for a minute or two, but John was there, too and ran home to get Mother. She came right over, and fortunately for us, and for all of Jim’s descendants, he had miraculously missed every piece of wood and all of the cement areas, and was not badly injured. Of course we were all punished, except for James, for being in this dangerous place, but this episode taught us all a valuable lesson. Mom had a very good voice and sang; she taught nursery and children’s songs to us. Dad also would sing to whomever was the baby at the time, or second to the baby. He especially liked to sing "Twenty Froggies". We eventually had a victrolla record player, but I do not remember any records except one Irish one by the great Irish tenor, John McCormick. The Vinewood McGuinnesses had a much better victrolla, and a little better selection of records to play. We also had music at school. John took piano lessons; I was a flop at this because I had early ear problems. There were no radios yet; just crystal sets—and we got one of these by having the boys at high school make Dad one. What a wonder! John fell in love with "Spanish Eyes", and I fell in love with Hawaiian music. Earlier in time than this, Mom and Dad got to go out to the theater downtown Detroit to see a famous musical production. "Desert Song," I think it was. Mary and Marguerite sat and took care of us for the occasion. Mom got all dressed up for this occasion. We kids were very impressed. Of course Dad wore a shirt and a tie very day for school, but Mom did not get dressed up very often, nor did she have the clothes to do so. Mom had long hair; I don’t remember a single woman at that time with short hair until I was in about the second grade. One by one they were bobbing their hair. I remember when Mom bobbed hers. She looked O.K. but I liked her better with long hair—which she braided or wore in a bun. I remember her getting her upper teeth out too, and getting false teeth. Mom always taught us how lucky we were to have such a wonderful grandma and aunts so close to us, and we were. They did a lot for us and they truly loved us and were proud of us. We spent every Sunday afternoon at Vinewood for years, going through the family photographs—exploring their house and back yard, and then eating supper there on Sunday night. From time to time over the years they provided us with special entertainment. Uncle Palmer did not live with them when we first moved to Detroit, nor did Uncle Philip. Both of these uncles moved there some time later. Grandma McGuinness always fed the homeless men although she was warned time and again not to do this. I believe they marked her house; she fed them on the back stoop. I was there two times when she did this. I believe grandma had two kitchen stoves when we first started to go to her house on Vinewood, one wood burning, and one gas. She made wonderful cookies, pancakes from raised dough, and biscuits. She also made "fried cakes". These were essentially cake doughnuts. Also, she could recite from memory long parts of poems she had learned in childhood. She always dressed the same—a neckband shirt, gray usually, with layers of full skirts and finally a bib apron, high top shoes, button I believe. Dad did spank us at times; Mother usually reported on our offenses to Dad, and he felt obliged to do this. I hid under the bed once, got dragged out, and my spanking was only worse for my hiding. I never tried that again! We acted out everything that impressed us. We acted out things involving John, and making our first communion, and Aunt Mary getting married, even though we did not go to the wedding. We also acted out the funeral of a lady down the street who had died. Looking back I would not have changed any of it. For a happy childhood all you need is people (family, Mom, Dad, aunts, uncles and grand parents, and most of all brothers and sisters). You also need friends and neighbors. You have to remember, however, this was a much slower time than the present. You had to have time to take it all in, and changes didn’t come as fast as they do today. Aunts Mary, Maude and Marguerite gave John his first birthday party (he was 10 years old). I think I tried to open his presents for him! Of course I lobbied for a birthday party of my own when I was 10 years old. It was the first party I can remember attending. Later, at the Polish family house I attended a party where they played spin the bottle. I really liked this game; I got to kiss the boy where the bottle stopped.
Winthrop Avenue—Our New Home We seven (four boys and three girls) lived at 15110 Winthrop Avenue in the Cooley-St. Mary’s-Strathmore section of suburban Detroit, Michigan beginning in 1924 when it was still just outside the Detroit city limits. It was called Greenfield Township. This area was incorporated into the city shortly after we moved there. The house was constructed especially for us. I was only nine months old when we took up residence in this far away from the urban part of Detroit area. I am told that we did not have a sewer hook up the first few months of our residence, so of course we had to have an out door "necessary house" for some of that period of time. Mary remembers that the Winthrop house was not fully constructed and ready for occupancy when it was time to give up the Woodrow home to the new owners, and move. Fortunately for the family the builder came through with another vacant home (ready for occupancy) farther out Tireman Avenue, Mary thinks, that the family occupied this "borrowed" house for a period of about four weeks or so. She distinctly remembers having her own bed, moved from Woodrow to sleep in, however, and also remembers that they did not attend any school from this location. Mary further remembers the flurry of activity on the part of mom and dad to stipple the walls and make the new Winthrop house home-like for the family when the builder finally permitted the family to "move in." For most of our childhood our house along with one other home way down the street were the only two houses on our side of our block of Winthrop. This gave us a great deal of space to play every kind of game we were able to concoct. There were several homes across the street. There were also two homes on our side of Greenfield Road, and a fire station almost directly in back of our home. Our close involvement with both the St. Mary’s Church and School, along with Cooley High School and the many neighbors on both sides of Fenkel Avenue (Five Mile road) gave us a rather wide scope of associates, neighbors and close friends with which we associated while we were growing up. Our principal contact with the big city was the famous Grand River Avenue, and the Grand River street car. In fact the street car did not go as far as Greenfield when we first moved there, but it’s extension to our area, and then all the way past us to Redford, Michigan had already been agreed upon, I understand, before Dad signed the contract for the house to be built. Redford itself was incorporated into the Greenfield area of Detroit a year or two after we moved to our new neighborhood. The streetcar stopped at Greenfield Road and Grand River, a distance of about one mile away. All of us were adept at covering that distance by foot any time we had to go into the city itself. I don’t remember exactly what the streetcar fare was (twelve cents, I think) but that and the bus on Fenkel Avenue, which stopped about 250 feet from our house, and Dad’s car were our lifelines for city and local travel. Both St. Mary’s School and Cooley High School were very manageable distances for walking. We walked to them every day; twice a day for St. Mary’s, since we came home for lunch. Mom was a real magician to be able to run the house and do everything that a Mother has to do for a big growing family and always have lunch ready for the school kids when they came running home for a fast bite, and then a fast walk back to school. As the little kid at home, I got brushed aside at lunchtime so as to expedite the quick feeding of my older siblings. Often Mom and I ate after the school kids departed at noon. As I remember it, they only had a rather short time to make it home, eat, and get back to school. In addition to the fire station, there was a small gas station very close to our home on Fenkel Avenue, and across Greenfield there was a small confectionery/soda fountain and a small grocery store. This and an old auto repair place almost on the opposite corner of Greenfield and Fenkel comprised the small commercial area that we could reach on foot. This entire area today would be labeled as lower middle class, but in this extensive community there were very few rich people and only a few poor people. Our home was a "Dutch colonial" style (rather popular then) and it had wood siding and a concrete and brick front porch. We also had a two-car garage that Dad built himself in1924 0r 1925. The house had three bedrooms to start with but it was necessary to add two more bedrooms and a much larger kitchen when I was about five or six. The original kitchen was very small. We had a decent sized living room and dining room and small library-sun room with five good-sized windows to look out over the back yard, garage, and side area. The house had (originally) only one bathroom, but we soon added a basement toilet for the guys. The house had coal heat, and no insulation, so it was quite cold in the winter. When the weather went below zero we almost froze, and the windows frosted over so thick that we could not see out the windows. Since I was six years younger than James, and almost three years younger than David, they were the ones I tried to keep up with when they were around. We were a very cohesive family. Mom (Nellie) was almost always at home (she had to be to get anything done, and to watch us) and Dad was almost always at school. Of course my playtime with James and David was always when school was not in session. I was only nine months old when the family made the move from Woodrow Avenue. This was about the 1st of July 1924. I am told that the day was so cold that Mom had Dad build a fire in the coal-burning furnace. Obviously, this was not a seasonable July day for Detroit! Brother John was our second father, and Mary was the families’ second mother. John was a military and commanding figure, I am told and he often opted out of the childish and juvenile games that Mary, Jean and James thought were fun. Though close in age, Mary and Jean were never "buddies" Genes, perhaps? James and David, however were close friends, when I was young and learning the family ways. When Mom and Dad were absent John was automatically in charge. But since John was often elsewhere, it was usually Mary that I remember taking care of me when Mom and Dad were not at home. I loved all my brothers and sisters—they were all good to me—but I thought Mary was the optimum of beauty, grace, style and loveliness. In today’s lingo, I would say they all were very "cool." John, being the first-born son—and our parents being steeped in old-fashioned beliefs and virtues—held a unique position in the family. So did Mary, the eldest daughter. It was unspoken, perhaps, but Mom and Dad really had very high hopes for these two siblings. They were both held to unusually high standards.
Additional Information Re: Family Life On Winthrop Avenue John and Nell have remembered additional things re family life on Winthrop Avenue. John remembers that when we first moved to Winthrop (’24), there were no sewers, so Dad had a septic sewage system installed (every house in that particular area needed a septic system). Because drainage in that location was not good, John and James had the daily task of pumping out the septic tank. This was because most of the year, the heavy clay soil did not drain well. Speaking of drainage, there was what we called a big county ditch that ran on a diagonal line somewhere east and west between Chalfonte St. and Eaton St. going south from our house to Grand River. Each and every spring, this ditch would swell into a rather large pond. I was not allowed to go there, but every time I could wrangle a visit, I found lots of kids playing on home made rafts, fishing for pollywogs, or just playing around in the water. Mom was afraid that I would drown there—she was quite right. James, John and David loved this place in the spring of the year. Occasionally this ditch/pond enveloped most or all of Winthrop itself, and no one could drive through to Grand River on this street. Of course this was entirely remedied when the street itself was paved in 1931 or’32. Our home, and garage, was also the location of a circulation sub-station for the local newspaper, The Detroit News. Every day a truck came to drop off a large number of newspapers for the entire neighborhood, and Mary Agnes was in charge of this enterprise. It was her way of earning money for herself, and for what was then called, her "Hope Chest." There were about 8-l0 newsboys who would come to get their papers at our sub-station. I can well remember the consternation when the paper truck was late, or when they did not deliver a sufficient number of papers. At that time, Mary or Mom would get on the phone for the downtown office of The News to have them deliver more copies. There was also the hustle and bustle of collecting money from the newsboys on Saturday and turning this money over to the official Paper collector. This seemed to occupy munch of Mom’s and Mary’s time on Saturday. I don’t know how much money Mary made from this difficult enterprise, but it could not have been enough for all the time and trouble it caused. Life seemed a lot simpler after Mary quit the paper circulation business. Mary also remembers that Mother was quite interested it helping her to think about a possible religious vocation. To this end, Mother arranged for Mary to have one or two tours of the Sarah (?) Fisher Home on Southfield Road run by the Little Sisters of the Poor who took care of aged, infirm and impoverished ladies and gentlemen, most of whom would have had no other place to live. Mary would have none of this type of life. Mary also ignored "invitations" from the IHM sisters (Immaculate Hart of Mary) who taught at St. Mary’s School. These nuns had told prospective novices like Mary that their vocation would "come to them sometime when they were alone," and would least expect it. Mary remembers that she avoided doing such tasks as hanging up the laundry in the back yard, or going out doors to take it off the clothes line—all by herself. I watched her do this under protest (she wanted someone to help her). I could see her clearly through the windows in the back of the house. It looked somewhat exciting to me, and, at the time, I did not understand her reluctance to work alone in the back yard and have her "vocation" come up and take her by surprise! All of us learned to play card games. Most of us learned to play auction bridge. (See item re Mom and Dad’s Bridge Club). We also played a whole variety of other card games. As one could imagine, there was also the usual wrangling and even fighting over rules and regulations of these card games. I particularly disliked "Old Maid," because I always seemed to be the Old Maid. It was not a title that I was proud to have. Being the "little brother" in such a large and diverse family was not always fun. After Nell was born in 1929, I lost the position of being the baby and just became the youngest brother. Another thing that Nell remembers was the annual spring burn-off of the fields around our home. At this time in Detroit it was usual and customary for many people to burn off the extensive fields in the spring of the year. Hence every warm, sunny March and early April day there were frequent fires to allow the new emerging grass to take over. I can still smell the smoke and feel the acrid tears on my face from this annual event. Of course this activity is not permitted in any city that I know of today, but then this action was not only common, it was thought desirable. Nell also remembers that I particularly liked to set cardboard boxes afire, and claim they represented a house or a big building. I think I learned this trick when I was sent out to burn the trash. Yes, we did that in one end of the vacant land south of our house. That too was common in this area; we did have a city garbage collection, but I cannot recall any trash collection what so ever, hence the importance of being able to burn combustible trash. Another memory that both Mary and Nell have is that of preparing Easter baskets at Easter time. A lot of thought and planning went into the yearly arranging of such baskets. Mary, Jean and Mom were and in charge of preparing and hiding the baskets. The hiding was the most important part of the ordeal (also who got the most of the chocolate candy!) I distinctly remember that one favorite place was behind the upright piano, and another location was inside the living room piano! There were many other locations, but the only other one I clearly remember was the front clothes closet. The only real advantage to finding your basket quickly was to be able to eat the candy more quickly. I don’t remember too much squabbling about candy, but I don’t remember much sharing of candy, either! We consumed a lot of milk; a regular deliveryman who drove two horses hitched to a milk wagon delivered it to us daily. He also delivered butter and eggs—right to the door. As time went on, horses hitched to wagons for horsepower for loads other than for milk became less and less common, but in the twenties, they were still quite common Going back to our Winthrop Avenue situation: We played all kinds of out door games—especially "fox and Geese" when there was snow on the ground. We three boys along with Mary Agnes and Jean who often initiated the game would make a large circle with a couple of crossings through the circle for the "fox" to catch the geese. I remember being the goose more often than anyone else! We had so much vacant space to play with at this Winthrop residence that we even created a rather permanent baseball diamond just south of our two lots. I can recall many games played on this diamond, and not only by the kids, but at least one Sunday John and his group of guys—who seemed very grown up to me, played a long, serious game. And, almost unbelievably, we also had "side yard" golf! Dad, James and David drove golf balls between our side yard and the Sampson house way down the street. Dad also had a horseshoe rink between our side yard and the ball field. Dad was also a born athlete; he was good at both golf and horseshoes. He often had other men over to play horseshoes with them. This group of McGuinnesses usually attracted many other kids from the neighborhood for the fox and geese game and for other out door games. We also played a lot of softball in season, and another game (of course with snow) was "forts," with two opposing snow forts and lots of snowballs. I was usually excluded from this game, and yes, it became quite rough. Speaking of other kids from the neighborhood, Earl Zeigler, who lived two blocks away, practically lived at our house. He was James’ special friend. Another friend of James was a big guy named Dorsey; I have forgotten his first name. Both of these gentlemen are now dead. David had a good friend named Peter Lyshack, who became an attorney for Ford Motor Company. He is also dead, as is his brother, Joe, another friend of David’s. Incidentally, I remember that all of James and David’s friends were very good to me, and considering the age difference this was unusual. I also remember "tattling" on James and David when I thought I had been mistreated. Fortunately, this did not happen often (I felt the pressure to keep silent from these two older guys). I quickly found out that this was not the way to filial popularity. I also remember when I was very young (3 or 4?) stomping through the tall wet grass around our home with David and James. Mother was furious; we were all punished. James and David more than I. I was considered to be a "follower"—not an instigator! A very important blessed event took place in the McGuinness household in 1929. A new baby girl came into our lives; Nell Therese was born into our family in May 1929. Up to that time I had been the "baby" of the family, and now I had to vacate this favored position to Nell T. All the older kids teased me about this, and honestly, I felt very "neglected" for quite some time after baby Nell came into our lives. It did not take too long, however, before I was as proud of my baby sister, as the others were from the very first day. When I was in the 2nd grade or so at St. Mary’s James was going to high school at Cooley High. Mary Agnes finished high school at St. Mary’s, (see the matrix on family birth dates and education, etc.). Jean went to North Western High (the street car again). David and I went to Cooley High in our turn. Cooley was a very large high school; when I attended there (1938-4l) it had 4,500 students! I idolized David; he was so big, strong and athletic. And he was a football star at Cooley with a big "C" on his sweater. Dad would not let either James or John play competitive sports (fear of injury, I understand), but he made an exception for David—I think David knew how to get Dad to say, "yes" better than the other two. Also, David persevered in asking Dad. By the time I was in the 7th and 8th grade, James was already in college studying electrical engineering at the University of Detroit. James was a co-op student, which meant that after his first year he went to school one month, and then worked somewhere in industry for a month. This meant that he was earning some money, but it took twice as long to finish his degree this way. He had to take the Fenkel bus to school, and then walk a few blocks. If I remember correctly the fare was ten cents. But ten cents was a lot of money to us then. I can remember sneaking downstairs to watch him study in the far SW corner of our basement at the small desk he made for himself there. I was not allowed to disturb him, but I could stand quietly and watch him from time to time. I knew he stayed up night after night until 1-2-or 3 AM in the morning working math problems and studying. Remember in this era there were no calculators or computers; all computations and calculations were done by a slide rule. Slide rules (difficult to operate) are now museum pieces. What we now do with a computer or a graphing calculator in a few moments took a long time with a slide rule. Hence his brilliance and expertise in engineering math would have represented a really significant achievement for him. Dad and John occasionally gave him some technical assistance with engineering math, but almost all of it was his own hard work and determination. In order to stay awake while studying, Jim drank cokes, which we found out at that time contained traces of real cocaine. Mom made him switch to coffee. We four boys had three bedrooms at the back of the house upstairs. We boys had our share of horseplay there and elsewhere. Mary and Jean shared one of two bedrooms in the front. I got very well acquainted with all my brothers both in our sleeping quarters and at the breakfast, lunch and dinner table. Also in our living room, sun room and in our big back yard where we tended to live in the summer time. We always ate together as a family. But each of us had our own separate friends. Both our Mom and Dad encouraged us to have friends and to play all kinds of games. David was a hands-on person with all kinds of sports—baseball, football, golf, and ping-pong. Dad bought us a ping-pong table and we had it in the basement. Both David and James were very good at this game. Again, good eye hand coordination. Dad had a teacher at his school whose brother was the pastor at St. Hugo of the Hills Church in Bloomfield Hills. Directly across from this beautiful church in this exclusive estate area was a private golf course, which was owned by a parishioner who lived next to the church. Dad was given golfing privileges at this course, and he took Dave and me and Peter Lyshak (Dave’s friend) there often. I think James found time to go with us occasionally (remember, Jim was a co-op student, and he was frequently working.). David and Pete Lyshak were good and determined golfers. Dad and I were just there for the sport and the exercise. David really honed his golf game on this course. Again, I wish to emphasize that David was an almost natural born athlete—very good eye hand coordination and all. He had a beautiful golf swing; he was also good at putting.
More Winthrop Avenue Memories and Details Nell remembers that life at the Winthrop home during the war years was quite crowded. After all of the boys had let Winthrop to help fight the War in Europe and the Pacific, Mom and Dad took in Jean and little Leslie III (after Leslie Senior had left Tennessee for duty in the Pacific); there were others, too, a factory worker, and a doctor and his wife from S. Dakota. These two both worked at Mt. Carmel Hospital. The factory worker was there while I was still in residence; Otto was a nephew of Mom’s California sister-in-law, John Bek’s wife. He did not stay a long time. He was a highly skilled tool and die maker, and he came to Michigan to work in the war effort. Nell also recalls, as do I, the July 4th family parties in our spacious back yard. These were loud, boisterous, full of good food, and much laughter. We had lots of invited guests, including some (or maybe all) of the Vinewood crowd, plus other teacher friends of Mom and Dad. After the food, we often played croquet on our side yard. We had a rather professional layout, as I recall, and several of us were really good players. I especially remember David and James as being about the best. Meanwhile, the other adults talked and played cards. Nell and I remember Mom and Dad (and early on Mary and Jean) canning, canning, canning. They canned apples, peaches, tomatoes and green beans, cans and cans of the stuff. I think they once also canned corn. Mother also "put up" pickles once or twice. Dad was an absolutely as avid a canner as Mom—I think more so. He went to the Eastern market and bought bushels of the fruit and vegetables, got the jars from the basement, and started the peeling, boiling and sterilizing. Of course the hot kitchen was alive with the smell of the produce. I frankly hated the whole hot steamy, smelly process. But the food was good to eat! The only part of this process that appealed to me was the trip to Eastern Market, in a different part of town—the near East side of Detroit. This was foreign territory to me, and I always enjoyed the busy, totally different scene there. Dad was to continue his canning activities the rest of his active life. He stopped canning only when he left Sturtevant Avenue in the 60’s to move to Carmel Hall, and the end of his active life, about the age of 75 or 76. Once years later, when I was the only young person left at home, I asked Dad, busy in the basement of Sturtevant—his current canning headquarters—why he continued to drive himself with the hot, steamy canning job. He told me it made him feel useful; it was something he could do, and he thought it was helpful to his kids to whom he gave the jars of produce—mostly peaches, apple sauce and tomatoes now. I think, in retrospect, it also helped him to fight his ongoing depression, which seemed to get progressively worse with age and Mother becoming so disabled. Mom and Dad’s Bridge Club Mom and Dad helped to form a neighborhood bridge group in the Winthrop Avenue—St. Mary’s Area. This auction bridge group (contract bridge was not as common then) met about once a month at various homes and provided a neighborly and bonhomie friendship for quite a few people in this whole area. Names that can be recalled as being "regular" members are: Mr. and Mrs. Edward Earl, Mr. and Mrs. Bernard McNab, Mr. and Mrs. Tom Donnelly, Mr. and Mrs. Walter Sullivan, Mr. and Mrs. Faeckey, Mr. and Mrs. Harvey Scott. Uncle Palmer and Aunt Marguerite also came to these parties. There were others who came to these parties on a hit or miss basis, but I believe this comprised the core group. Mary remembers that we kids were simply delighted when this group met at our home—left over goodies that we never saw, otherwise. Nell remembers that we kids also learned to play auction bridge. However, we were not welcome at these gatherings. The older kids were sent off to visit elsewhere, and I (and later Nell) were banished to bed. I also remember that on at least one or two occasions there was a single table reserved for other type of card games, rather than auction bridge.
Mother, President of the Strathmore Faculty Wives’ Club In the middle 30’s Mother was elected president of the Strathmore Faculty Wives’ Club. Her picture appeared (for the only time in her life) on an inside page of The Detroit News. With the information about this new club being added to the Detroit Federation of Women’s Civic Clubs. Mother had helped to organize this Faculty Wives’ Club a few years earlier (probably in the late 20’s). Mother held this prestigious position for one term, which was probably for a single year, then she became one of it’s illustrious past presidents. Since Mother did not drive, I can remember taking her to a few of the meetings of this organization at the Bushnell Church on Southfield Avenue. The Bushnell Church always seemed to be the place where this group met in its later years for luncheon meetings. Mother always enjoyed socializing with this group of women who were married to local schoolteachers.
"Uncle" Ralph Twitchell, Dad’s Friend When Dad taught at Northwestern High he was a boy’s counselor, and his principal assistant was a Yankee from Vermont named Ralph Twitchell. The name Twitchell is an old and honorable English name; Ralph had done some investigating, and he could not find another Twitchell in the entire state of Vermont. He had graduated from the very prestigious Dartmouth College in New Hampshire. Soon after Dad left Northwestern for Cleveland Intermediate Twitchell became the head of the mathematics department at Cooley High. As such all four of we boys had involvement with him when we were students at Cooley, either as a teacher, or seeing and talking to him in the halls. Dad was very fond of "Uncle" Ralph—he was invited to our house for dinner on many occasions. He simply delighted we kids because he always brought big boxes of candy with him, from Saunders, no less. In addition to that, he "rough necked" with all of us. He was really a great favorite of ours. Twitchell seemed to genuinely like kids! He had none of his own; he was very much a bachelor. He seemed to have some other place that he went to for Thanksgiving, but he was a regular at our home for Christmas. As indicated above, he was a frequent dinner guest at our table. These dinner invitations stopped rather abruptly, however, when he made the mistake of teaching us a rather "bawdy" Dartmouth College chant. Mother, who was definitely something of a "prude" when it came to sex, was horrified. So was Dad. Yet after WWII I helped Dad drive all the way to Vermont to visit "Uncle" Ralph and his sister at their home in Bethel, Vermont. He could not have been more gracious and hospitable to Mom, Dad, Nell and I during our several day visit. He took us on many interesting trips all over the state. He obviously knew Vermont as only a native could—and he loved its rare beauty and eccentricities. Frankly, I loved all the old Dartmouth songs and sports chants—"Uncle" Ralph added much to our young lives. He brought a whole new dimension to our sheltered lives. He showed us that there was a very different world out there from what we lived every day! He also added to our growing knowledge of Saunder’s candy delicacies.
Visiting The Vinewood McGuinness Family—Dad’s Family Visiting Dad’s family on Vinewood Avenue, in Detroit was remarkably simple. Dad went there often when his mother, Grandma McGuinness was still alive. We either went with him, or we took the Grand River street car to the West Grand Boulevard stop and walked about one good block. Their home on Vinewood, a large, old clapboard structure of many rooms and four floors, was a few houses East of Grand River, at the intersection of W. Grand Boulevard and Dexter. North Western High School was also located at this intersection. Our grandmother, Emma Palmer McGuinness was a very old and infirm lady who dressed like a character out of a Dickens novel. She slept late, walked with great difficulty, holding on to tables and chairs as she walked, and spoke with great authority. I am told that she ran the whole family even when her much older husband was alive; he, James McGuinness, Sr. died in 1917 from the affects of colon cancer. I was born into this family so late in time that I cannot recall ever seeing her "dressed up" other than in old, old skirts and aprons, and I do not recall her going out of the house and the back yard, except to buy green groceries from a man we called "Tony" who drove a grocery truck that stopped at the door in front of the house. He rang a bell to announce himself and his truck. However, in spite of her age and ill health, Grandma ran the family, still, and all her children adored her. She was very fond of our father. I am really not sure what she thought of his children, although I am told that in earlier times she had shown great regard for John and Mary. I know that Jean ate lunch at the Vinewood home when she attended North Western High, and Jean says that Grandma was very kind and loving toward her, too. When grandma demanded something, all her family jumped. There was quite a collection of aunts and uncles there: Palmer and Philip and aunts Maude and Marguerite. . Later on Aunt Mary and her two children, Emma Jane and Charles, would join them. Palmer taught chemistry and physics at nearby North Western High and he considered himself to be a quintessential new era scientist. Aunt Maude taught 1st grade at nearby Sampson School in a basement room; this basement classroom was her classroom for about 20 straight years. Both James and Jean were her pupils in this room when the family lived nearby on Woodrow Avenue. Aunt Marguerite was a counselor at Miller High School on the far east side of Detroit. Aunt Mary lived in the same general neighborhood on Larchmont St. This home, where she and her family lived until about 1934 or ‘35 was about a mile and a half from the Vinewood place. Aunt Mary’s husband, Uncle Charles Conklin, died of cancer in 1932, at the very height of the famous depression. They had two children: Emma Jane, one year younger than I, and Charles, two years younger than Nell. There was no social security, etc. in 1932; Uncle Charles’ insurance company refused to pay on the insurance policies he had left for support for Aunt Mary and her two children. They, in effect, defaulted on the policies. This left this small family in a very difficult economic situation. Aunt Maude left the Vinewood home to help Aunt Mary (remember, Emma Jane was very young, and Charles only a baby). Not too long after this, the Vinewood McGuinnesses undertook major renovations and upgrading to their home, and both modernized it and enlarged it, the home itself had been built about 1890. I believe this took place shortly before grandma’s death in 1937 (?). Part of this enlargement was to make a bedroom for Philip in the basement. After grandma’s death, Aunt Mary rented her Larchmont home and moved into Vinewood with Emma Jane and Charles. Aunt Mary remained with the aunts until both Marguerite and Maude died, then she went to live with Charles and Sheila in Bloomfield Hills. Charles and Emma Jane were to make their home with Palmer, Philip, Maude and Marguerite both on Vinewood and on Wildemere until they graduated from college and left for marriage and homes of their own. I loved to visit this large, roomy somewhat mysterious Vinewood place, and I often was able to spend the night there. They fed me, and all of us very well. And it tended to be a somewhat different diet than we got at home from Mom! I especially liked to accompany Aunts Marguerite or Mary on shopping on nearby Grand River Avenue where there were large, specialized shops that we did not have close to us in the Winthrop area. Many years ago Saunders’ bakeries and candy stores were legendary in the entire Detroit area. There was one of these stores on Grand River just a block or so away from Vinewood—and immediately next to one or two of their favorite locations for shopping! It was the first of these stores that I had ever encountered. I was especially taken with this place; it was the first real bakery I had ever visited. We often went there to buy bread—but this visit sometimes included a dish of ice cream, too. It also had a lunch counter for the convenience of its patrons. This was also new to me. Getting a dish of ice cream or some small sweet at this wonderful store was sheer heaven to me at this age. On one or two occasions, Uncle Palmer took me on a Saturday over to his chemistry laboratory and to his office at the High School. All of the equipment and paraphernalia seemed so unusual and unknown to me—jars, jars, jars of liquids and powders that absolutely bewildered me. Of course I was not allowed to touch anything, and I didn’t. Actually, the Vinewood and the Winthrop McGuinnesses represented a love, love/ win, win situation. Individually, and collectively they added munch to our young lives, and helped various members of our families in many ways that will not be recorded here. Mentioned above is the fact that Jean ate lunch at Grandma’s when she was going to N.W High School. Jean enjoyed greatly her lunch break from class and the walk of two blocks or so to Vinewood. I previously mentioned Aunt Marguerite’s support for Jean’s studies in Paris, Florence, and Sienna. In the early 20’s, the aunts and uncle (sans Aunt Mary and Uncle Philip) took John on an extensive western trip that included going into Yellowstone Park. They made this trip in Palmer’s new 1922 (?) Buick touring car with open sides, and eisenglass windows that had to be put up in inclement weather. They entered through a new, Eastern entrance (through Cody, Wyoming) that was still under construction. They frequently had to stand by the side of the road to permit the road builders to finish the one lane path for them! Yellowstone was largely virgin park territory in those days—no hordes of visitors then. Mary remembers being taken on a somewhat similar trip, but it was less extensive and through the "middle" South, Kentucky and Tennessee, mainly. The rural South of that day was so much more primitive and different than the Detroit and Grand Rapids that Mary had seen by that time, that it made a lasting impression on her. I, too, was taken on at least two short Northern Michigan journeys with Palmer and the aunts. One I remember was to visit Uncle Philip who was then working for the C.C.C. as a sort of senior-on-the-job supervisor at Camp Hartwick Pines about 80 or 90 miles south of the Straits. Another time I went with the aunts with Charles and Emma Jane (but without Palmer), to two different Grand Lake cottages. We had two different cottages on Grand Lake because they could not retain the same cottage for a third week. I also accompanied this same group along with a Ms. Nora Renkes, a very good friend of Aunt Marguerite from their farm next door in Hastings, Michigan, the farm from which the family had moved to Vinewood; this was a rather extensive journey around the famous Gaspe Peninsula of Canada, along with Nova Scotia. I think they took me because I could help drive Nora’s car—they wanted two vehicles for the trip. She turned out to be a somewhat timid driver, and the Gaspe road, just newly opened was somewhat rugged to drive—parts of it were on unguarded roads overlooking the beautiful Gulf of St. Lawrence—an arm of the Atlantic Ocean. This was in 1940, and since Canada was already engaged in WWII, we encountered no tourist traffic, and we had our pick of restaurants and accommodations. This trip was another eye-opener for me—the scenery at that time was absolutely fabulous. Much of the Gaspe road was unpaved at that time—this only added to the driving challenge, and to the remoteness of the area. We once had fresh salmon, just caught in the cold, cold waters of the Gulf of St. Lawrence. Wow, what a treat! This was served to us at what today would be called a "B and B". This house had no electricity, and was within view of the Gulf of St. Lawrence; the husband of the good woman who gave us lodging for the night had caught the salmon that very day. Perhaps, more important to our story here, was the very close relationship between our family and Dad’s family. We always celebrated Thanksgiving Day at Grandma’s and they came to our house for Christmas. I think I can even remember Grandma herself coming to our house once, but of this I am not sure. But during the spring, summer and fall we had innumerable picnics with this family. More often than not we picnicked at Rouge Park, but we also went to Palmer Park and to Belle Isle, although going to Belle Isle represented a long, hard trip for us through the heart of Detroit. When Grandma herself was alive, Dad went there often to see his mother. Many of we kids went to Vinewood by the streetcar. Before I leave this interesting section of "our story," I must add that Aunt Marguerite also helped Mary at a difficult point in her life after Denny Dennis’ death, and several of the aunts also helped with baby sitting and other types of services to all my brother’s families. Aunt Maude especially volunteered to baby sit for John, James and David on innumerable occasions. I can recall helping Aunt Maude on one of these occasions at Bentler when both John and Aileen had to go to Brooklyn (I think it was for Grandfather Moroney’s funeral). This was the only occasion I can remember spending the night on Bentler. This short epistle re our family’s relations with our Vinewood relatives needs to tell one more tale: Aunt Maude’s vow. It is almost impossible today to convey the actual degree of danger that service in the armed forces entailed during WWII to the "life and limb" of those who served. Aunt Maude, probably the most devout of the three aunts, vowed that if all four of we boys were to survive the war intact, Aunt Maude, then retired from the Sampson School, would go back to teach the first grade again for the small, struggling, Black, Catholic school, nearby their neighborhood, St. Martin dePorres. This school apparently lacked a good 1st grade teacher. All four of us came home—safe—and saintly Aunt Maude kept her vow. She taught at St. Matin dePorres’ for several years after our homecoming. Before leaving this section of our McGuinness Family story, some more of John’s memories of this McGuinness family should be cited. He also remembers the fabulous cookies and fried cakes that Grandma used to make, and of he famous raised pancakes—that were served to one and all wafer thin. All of these items were loaded with fat, and Grandma obtained this scarce commodity by rendering fat bacon (yes!) and saving the fat. This was certainly a thrifty way to get fat, but our mother did not think it was good for us. In spite of this our Dad consumed plates of these delicious pancakes smothered in butter and syrup. So did Palmer, and so did I, when I got the chance. The cookies were of two varieties—molasses and "sugar" cookies. I can still taste those sweet, delicious home made cookies of Grandma McGuinness; she always had some for us when we came to visit. John also remembers that Grandma liked to go personally to the grocery store on Grand River to look over all of the produce. She was very choosy in what she would buy to take home—it had to be very fresh. She got to this store by going through a short cut by way of the alley (the alley was paved, by the way). Palmer and Maude and Marguerite eventually stopped her taking this route, because they thought it too dangerous for her, because she was an old lady with long skirts, who could not run, and could not even walk fast anymore. After this, Tony the vegetable man who drove an old truck right to her door became the produce person. I was at her home once or twice when Tony came down the street and parked in front of Grandma’s door. Either he came to the door and she told him what she wanted, or she would go out to the truck and take a look. She was very fond of Tony, and he always treated her as a "special" client! In the 1920’s when Ford finally came up with an enclosed sedan with an electric starter (this meant that you did not have to crank the car) Aunt Marguerite and Maude bought a new Ford car. Palmer taught Aunt Marguerite to drive. One day, while John was riding in this car, Aunt Marguerite made some kind of an awkward and unlikely left hand turn on West Grand Boulevard near their home, and ended up precariously pitched on the side of the raised median or boulevard area, and the car was so top heavy it threatened to turn over. Everyone got out and Palmer got the car back down on the road again. John was told not, under any circumstances, to mention this incident to Grandma! When winter arrived—every year of course—scientific Palmer always disconnected his battery and put his car up on blocks in the garage. No winter driving for him—too dangerous and too hard on his precious car! But Marguerite drove her car in the winter, and Grandma always had a ride to church, for which she was most grateful. Perhaps it should be added here, for the young people of this year 2000, that the cars of this day and age, in addition to being very prone to engine, starting, tire and battery troubles, also lacked heat in the winter. The first car that I can remember having regular heat from an interior "heater" was our 1936 Ford car! Hence winter driving, in addition to being difficult, was also very cold. John has several other memories concerning some of the Dexter relatives: Julia O’Hara McGuinness, the mother of Frank, Mae, Margaret and other siblings of theirs, frightened John when he was young. She was big, strong, raw boned, boisterous and was possessed of a very loud, business like voice. John’s second memory was meeting Frank McGuinness at the large Jenny-Chris-Ed farm one day with Uncle Philip when they had returned from a successful hunt on the Johnnie Smith farm. Frank and his two first cousins, Chris and Ed were engaged in some serious conversation in the large country style kitchen when the two (John and Philip) entered. Without missing a single second or pausing for emphasis he whirled around and pointed straight at John and said: "—and you, you, if you don’t marry and have kids there won’t be any more of us McGuinnesses around anywhere, anymore!" John has always been amused at Frank’s prophetic comment. John also remembers how precarious it was to start Dad’s old Model T touring car. Dads had to set the spark and then adjust the fuel, and then crank the car, and rapidly jump into the driver’s seat (no door on the driver’s side!) and readjust the spark and the gas; and then drive off. John especially remembers one time that the car almost demolished our father, and he sat horrified in the front seat watching Dad try to push the darn car back as it was nailing him to the garage wall! Fortunately for all of us concerned, the motor stalled just as it was about to crush dear Dad! John also remembers the consternation caused when Grandpa Bek once visited us; and the whole family piled into Dad’s old open touring car and went to Belle Isle. Mom and Grandma Bek were in the back seat. Grandpa chewed tobacco! He also endeavored to spit same out of the open car while it was in motion! Some of the tobacco juice spewed into the faces of those in the back seat. Wow! What a howl! Grandpa was told by one and all to stop it. Perhaps this is as good a place as any, to tell that in addition to chewing tobacco, this former Dutch soldier also made home brew beer. He did not share the home brew beer with anybody that I knew of, but I do know that both John and cousin Jerry Armock always hoped that he would, and endeavored to get him to do so. No such luck. While we are on the subject of Model T cars, Dad himself told me the story of teaching Uncle Dick to drive a car. This was probably when they lived one block away from Dick and Laura in Muskegon. Dad said that Dick had his first car, and asked Dad to teach him how to drive it. Dad tried to go through all of the essentials, and then Dick set out, proudly, on his own. Unfortunately Dick did not remember how to stop the car—he ran around in circles for a short time, then spied a hay stack in an adjacent field—steered right for it, and stopped the car by hitting the hay stack! Again, no serious damage to the car or the haystack, and Dick learned an important driving lesson.
Summer Trips To Grand Rapids To Visit Mother’s Family Each summer that I can remember we made yearly trips to Grand Rapids to visit Grandma and Grandpa Bek—and Mom’s two sisters, Aunts Laura and Kate and their respective families. The road itself, Grand River Highway, U.S. #l6, from Redford to Lansing was about a Grade "C". From Lansing to Portland it was a grade "C-"; but from Portland to East Grand Rapids, it was a "D-" at best. In fact the last 40 miles from Portland to East Grand Rapids it was very bad gravel. I think we spent a lot of time praying those last forty miles. Add to this the fact that Dad had rather poor cars in those days, and the trip could take hours. Also Dad’s car, loaded with six kids (Nell was not born until 1929) was not the best for long journeys. On each trip we kept count of the travel interruptions for flat tires, etc. The thin, flimsy tires of that day had a short life span. We always seemed to have some whose life was about to expire! We were especially fearful of the 40-mile gravel span going up and coming back. On the way back we always felt much more secure as soon as we came to Portland, because at least from then on to Detroit and home we had better (but not really good) roads. Also, we could drive somewhat faster. Because of the problems of tires, over heating, and miscellaneous other mechanical problems—the time spent on this journey could be as long as l2 hours! Vacation travel was not for the faint hearted at that time. However, the joyful receptions we received from Grandma (we especially loved her); and Grandpa (we were mostly afraid of this somber and gruff person), were worth the journey. As the decade of the twenties stretched into the thirties, Dad got better cars, and the road was considerably improved—hence the travel was easier for us. But still, travel in July and August summers—there was no air conditioning then—was not a "day at the beach." It should be pointed out that John and Mary were often entrusted to be the drivers for the Grand Rapids trips. Both were first-rate drivers, at least as good as Dad himself. In addition to Grandma’s we also spent time at both Kate’s and Laura’s families. I especially enjoyed going to Aunt Laura’s farm. They lived on an old, run down farm between Silver Lake and Cannonsburg. The land on this 40-acre spread was considerably better than our later Hamburg farm, because they could actually grow crops. However, their house was in very poor condition, and badly lacked paint. Still, I loved it; they had cows (two I think), horses, and chickens, ducks and geese; and I got the chance to feed them. Aunts Laura and Kate were two of the most optimistic and cheerful grown ups we were ever to know. In addition, both were good cooks and were extremely hospitable to we McGuinness kids. We always seemed to be welcomed there, although Laura and Dick Armock and their family (Alice, Jimmy and Jerry) were frankly, financially impoverished. Alice was married and had a home of her own. These visits with Aunt Laura were during the very heart of the terrible 30’s depression and I can remember when Aunt Laura was hard put to come up with a 25-cent coin to pay for things that it was necessary to buy. John remembers that one summer when we were visiting Aunt Laura, she had given Uncle Dick their very last fifth cents to pay for having some of their grain ground up for chicken feed. Uncle Dick, a skilled craftsman who was currently unemployed, somehow lost the precious two quarters. Aunt Laura broke down and cried—they didn’t have any money to replace it, and she desperately needed the chicken feed! She sold eggs to their neighboring farmers for money to buy other necessities like sugar, coffee and toilet tissue. No chicken feed, no eggs. I can also remember Aunt Laura making a sign to sell fresh sweet corn, and my staying out in her spacious, shaded front yard trying to sell corn to passing motorists. The price was 25 cents for a dozen ears. I actually made two sales, I think, and Aunt Laura was delighted with the cash windfall of silver money. John also remembers the story of how Jimmy and Jerry Armock got to finish high school while they lived on this farm in rural Kent County, Michigan. They had an old Model T Ford (in the 30’s Model T Ford’s had had their day, and only the very poor, or the very young kids would be seen driving one), which they drove on a daily basis to some high school in Grand Rapids. Obviously, there were some stormy days in winter when they would not have been able to make the trip, no matter how eager they were to get their diplomas. Both of these guys were unusually bright. I personally remember the sport of riding in this same (or perhaps similar) Model T Ford to go to Sunday mass in nearby Cannonsburg (perhaps 9 miles away). Since the weather was especially good (summer of course) I thought it was great fun to ride in an "open" car without the eisenglass curtains. But Model T’s had a bad habit of not wanting to climb up very steep hills. There was one not too far from their farm that we had to ascend on the return trip. Jerry said that on some occasions they had to back down this hill, and go up backwards—this was because of the gravity flow for gasoline utilized in Model T’s. No such luck on this particular Sunday! Another thing about these cousins—they had a great sense of humor, and they never let their family’s financial problems during this terrible depression keep them from having fun, or to really depress their personal spirits. I can still hear Jerry’s’ infectious laugh, and hear the fun he would make, in a good-humored sort of way, of Mom’s foibles. Mother had a first cousin, John Bek, who had a very nice cottage on Silver Lake, about five miles from Laura’s farm. We seemed to always be welcome to drive over there with a car full of kids to swim. It was a very good swimming lake. I recall Mary driving us to swim there more than once. Sadly we seem to have lost almost all contact with Mom’s Bek relatives. Mother and Dad, too, seemed to know a lot of different families—related or just friends—in the Grand Rapids area. We seem to have lost contact with all of these acquaintances of our parents. On one occasion when we were in G.R., James was entrusted to Uncle Neil Bek, Mom’s baby brother, to spend one or two days at Muskegon on Lake Michigan. There was a State Park there, and they camped there. Jim came back horribly burned from sunburn. Stupid Uncle Neil thought the antidote for a little sunburn was—you guessed it—more sun! Mother was furious. I thought for a few short minutes that Mom would actually do violence to Uncle Neil! Anyway, Neil got the message that he had goofed—seriously. James did recover, or course, but he carried skin scars from that sun encounter for a long time on his thighs.
Summer Spent At Torch Lake, Michigan—1937 In 1937 Dad rented an old farmhouse located in Torch Lake Village, on the shores of beautiful, big Torch Lake in northern Michigan. This home was just a half block, or less from the lake itself, with nothing but a Township park in between. We were about 25 or 30 miles north of Traverse City, and about two miles from the beautiful beaches of Lake Michigan. We, most of us, spent the entire month of August at this ideal location. Dad and James moved us up there in a borrowed trailer—the trailer was behind the car, of course to hold all of our equipment and luggage. The car was too small to hold all of our baggage, and us too. James had to put brake lights, etc. on the trailer, as this trailer did not have that equipment when we borrowed it. Because of summer school commitments, and James’ work commitment, neither Dad nor James could spend as much time at Torch Lake as the rest of us did. John, who had both military and work commitments, was also not in residence with us there. But he too made it up for a day or so. But Mom,. Jean, Dave, Nell and I were the lucky receivers of the time spent at this wonderful place. All of us loved it up there; the old house was spacious enough, but it was not modern, and we did have to put up with kerosene lamps. Mom was an old hand at kerosene lamps, and taught me how to put the oil in, trim the wicks, and clean the glass shade. I had never known this kind of roughing it before and I actually thought it was great fun, but it was difficult trying to go to be with a kerosene lamp to climb the stairs. I think Dave knew how to row a boat before Torch Lake, but I didn’t. But both of us became expert at rowing and fishing at this summer place. I don’t know where all of our visitors came from—summer people from surrounding cottages and summer homes, I think, however, I do remember Mom and Jean entertaining a number of people at that place. Dad joined us full time for the last two weeks. Curiously, enough one spooky thing stands out in my mind from this unusual place. There were two large dwellings a block or two away in the small village that had been abandoned. One was an old summer hotel, I think; Mom delighted us by leading one or two of the large groups we seem to collect through these two abandoned buildings by flashlight after dark. It was almost like something in the scarifying videos of today’s TV! It sure scared a young guy like me. I must add, however, that we did not do any damage to these already crumbling buildings. Two years ago, I was able to find this exact same summer place again. The old farmhouse has been gentrified, and it sits on a slope over looking a lovely Township park with a lot of frontage on Torch Lake. It is still an ideal setting. Torch Lake village itself is still only a small hamlet, but it is quite gentrified, too. The other thing that hit me on this quick visit was how expensive property has become all over no | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
