Mom dearly loved her aunt Ginny. The youngest of Grandpa Cassidy‘s siblings, Ginny lived her entire life on Lombard Street in New Haven.

Virginia Anne Cassidy came into this world on December 11, 1915. This was a full 22 years after her oldest brother, John, was born. Grandpa was 15 years older than Ginny.

After all these years, it’s only now coming to me that Mom must have been named for her. Virginia was Mom‘s middle name.

This is the oldest photo I have of Ginny. I love the giant bow in her hair! That’s Grandpa, her brother Frank, holding a rake. And their mom, Anna.

I’m guessing this photo is from 1918 or ’19. Little Ginny had already suffered the loss of her father and an attack of polio. (I look at Anna’s hands. Is she ready to catch her youngest if Ginny loses her balance?)

Ginny grew up and went to local schools. And what a beauty she became!

Here’s a clip from her high school yearbook:

The bonus – that’s her signature! Ginny graduated from New Haven’s Commercial High School in 1933. It’s nice to see she listed “Reading” as her hobby. I remember Mom telling me about bringing piles of books to Ginny’s house in later years.

She listed “Secretary” as her vocation. From census records and business listings, it looks like Ginny chose well. First, spent the 1940s working as a clerk at “205 River.”

Here’s what the building looks like now. It was a warehouse, perhaps? That’s my guess. It was built in 1900.

Ginny spent the 1950s working as a clerk at the Knights of Columbus organization, which is still headquartered in New Haven.

Here’s a photo of Ginny (top left) with friends from work, visiting the famous Copacabana in New York City:

In the 1960s and ’70s, Ginny worked as a stenographer at the A.W. Flint Ladder Company at 196 Chapel Street. At one point, the company boasted of creating “a mile of ladders” each day.

Here’s a look at a vintage Flint ad, courtesy the New Haven Museum’s website:

Ginny was a lifelong parishioner of St. Francis Church on Ferry Street. Her obituary states she died on October 2, 1998 following a long illness.

As Ginny’s time grew near, Mom visited her dear aunt once again, and then wrote this poem:

Fleshing the Bones

My hand on Ginny’s cheek

Her arms are sharp and spare
as drawn right angles
her old eyes clouded
but her hair’s own red at eighty

Fleshing the bones you said
with hugs a smile
a word of comfort

We love you Ginny
she will answer one last time
you’d better!

She moves into the mystery she loves

~ joan vayo ~ August 22, 1998

My cousin Suzanne told me Ginny had “Irish hair” that would get curly (dare we say frizzy?) this time of year. She remembers visiting with her mom, Bunny, another redhead, and borrowing the family shillelagh for a school project.

More than anything, Sue remembers Ginny’s kind, gentle energy. And I remember her smile.

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“Fleshing the Bones”© 1998 Joan Vayo. All rights reserved.

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