Grandma Cassidy was one heck of a letter-writer. We may have lived 1,000 miles away from her New Haven kitchen, but she kept us up to date. (Long-distance phone calls were ridiculously expensive back then.)

Grandma wrote pages upon pages to my brother Dave in April of 1977. He was a sophomore at Indiana University and, thankfully, saved her correspondence.

This letter in particular tells the story of the break-in at her siblings’ house in Orange, Connecticut. Moment by dramatic moment.

But first, here is our cast of characters:

• Grandma Cassidy, our scribe, was 74 at the time
• Grandpa Cassidy, 76, a retired New Haven policeman
• Pip Regan, Grandma’s youngest brother, was 65 and shared a home with two of his sisters in Orange
• Bill Regan, her second-youngest brother, was 69 and lived in a neighboring town with his wife, Grace
• May Regan – our hero – was the older sister, 79; she and Pip devoted their lives to caring for sister Martha, who was two years older
• Kelly – a large friendly dog, age unknown (Kelly was their Irish mother’s maiden name)

Here’s a poorly framed photo of siblings May and Pip, just a year before the break-in:

Two other notes: May and Pip’s house had an attached garage. As you went in the house from the garage, there was a small entryway (Grandma calls it a mud room, but I sure never saw any mud … just a cage for a friendly pup named Kelly) and a couple of steps up to another door, which led into the kitchen. Secondly, apologies for use of the G-word. Back then we didn’t know it would someday be deemed unacceptable.

Here, at last, is Grandma’s letter:

You, no doubt, heard that Pip’s home was entered about a month, or more, ago – in daylight – around 12:30 to 1 pm. They (two of them – one or two had the long-hair thing) came in the backyard driveway – came into Pip’s garage – knocked on the “Mud Room” door off the garage – leading into the kitchen.

They were locked.

He knocked lightly at first. They had their four-door car back up and ready to leave in a hurry – or to pick up things and one door was put ajar.

Well, Pip and Uncle Bill had left shortly before (in Bill’s car) as Bill was going to a car wash, and Pip knew of one that might give him a better job. So Pip went with Bill to show him where it was.

Now when May didn’t answer the knock, as she didn’t know them – the guy went out to his buddy, I suppose and no doubt told him, “No answer.” So he came back again and rapped on the door very loudly – still no answer. May had gone upstairs to get a better view of things and she believes she saw what might be the word “Gypsy” on the back of the car. Now I’m not sure if that was on his license plate.

However, while she was upstairs, she heard a noise like broken glass and she came down. As she entered the kitchen:

Holy Mackerel: the guy was in her kitchen.

God must have been with her – she did a terrific job of it. She asked him, “Is there anything I can do for you?”

He said, “STAY” and went off grumbling. He might have been about 26 years old.

While he was leaving, May went quietly out the front door – not locking it – to avoid any noise – but I guess she pulled it over (the door). Off she flew across the long piece of property on the left side of their home by the sunroom. It was covered with snow. She had no hat or coat or boots – no time for that – and went to the house next door. The lady called the police and told May she would have had a heart attack if it happened to her.

When Pip and Bill were coming up the road by the front, they spotted two patrol cars and police on their lawn.

Of course Pip didn’t know what the trouble was. He soon found out. He went and got May home.

Kelly, the dog, was loose in the house and barking hard. He never touched the guy – no doubt since May didn’t get excited when she saw the man, Kelly probably felt he was okay.

Didn’t he have a (the guy) nerve to jimmy his way in with a dog loose in the home. Pip says Gypsies aren’t afraid of dogs – still, we can’t say they were Gypsies. I think when he saw May he figured there might be someone else there – and, too, it was she who probably called the police, hence her seemingly being at ease. Time was of the essence and he better not stop for anything.

Grandpa thinks he maybe was as surprised to see May as she was to see him in the house.

Thank God no one was hurt. Pip next day – or that very day – ordered about six or seven double locks so they hold up really well. No key will open them – only the owner of the house’s key.

It can be frightening. May doesn’t like to be alone now. I don’t blame her.

God bless them all, that was the story of the year for our family. The decade, really. Maybe a relative reading this will let me know if they ever caught the long-haired pair.

Some may say it was the luck of the Irish that got them through that experience, but in my opinion the credit needs to go to May, an incredibly courageous, calm, and fast-thinking woman.

---

Would you like to receive an email notice when there’s a new Too Much Brudders post? Sign up here: