Today was the day. Time to head to the county courthouse for a little prick in the arm. The entire process took less than half an hour. Checked in, secured a second Covid vaccine appointment, got my “Fauci Ouchie,” and went into the rotunda to sit in a chair for 15-minutes, just in case. And whom should I run into? Why, it’s Mr. Lincoln! As must as I’d like to have sat next to him, Abraham and I agreed that…
My grandfather was a policeman in New Haven, Connecticut. And his father was a policeman, too. My mother never met her grandfather Patrick Cassidy. He died in 1917. He was only 54 years old. My grandpa was just 17 years old at the time; he dropped out of school to help support the family. He had six siblings. Little Ginny was only two years old and Walter was eight. Here’s a photo of Grandpa with his mother, Anna, and youngest…
I can just hear my Grandma Cassidy bursting forth with that staccato laugh of hers, and then chiding me for using the word “gospel” in the title of this post. But Grandma, it’s okay. I didn’t capitalize “gospel,” so I don’t need to go to confession over this. We’re good. My younger brother was crazy about Grandma, too. Six years younger than me, Bill had a few extra years living close to her once Mom and Dad moved back to…
The year 2020 has given us a lot to complain about. A global pandemic. Unstable economy. A contentious election. Looking back 100 years, our ancestors didn’t have it any easier. They had their own pandemic, which claimed a member of Gary’s family. And just a few years later, another massive flu outbreak that took my father’s maternal grandfather. One hundred years ago, the presidential election was between Warren G. Harding and James. M. Cox. Harding’s campaign message was a call…
My great-aunt May Regan was a wonderful woman. She was kind and fun and caring. A good cook, too. May was also Mom’s godmother. May grew up on Lombard Street in Fair Haven. In later years, May lived with her brother Pip; together they were like a bonus set of grandparents to us. On June 12, 1989, Mom presented the eulogy she wrote about her godmother May at her funeral. Here it is: In Praise of May She was our…
There’s so much to know about my paternal grandfather. Grandpa Vayo was a humble guy, though, so it’s taken a lot of research to piece together the story of his life. Lots of conversations with Dad, emails to my brothers, and searches on Newspapers.com. And here we are. Harold Edward Vayo was born on this day in 1899 in Brewer, Maine. His parents, George and Alice, had already lost a child to cholera. Little Gladys Alice was only 15 months…
This story isn’t about my brother Billy, but the gentleman he was named after, our mom’s uncle Bill Regan. Since Mom’s passing last November, Bill Regan’s daughter Patty and I have been in touch via email, as we piece together stories about Grandma Cassidy‘s side of the family. Little Billy, the second youngest of Joe and Maggie Regan’s 11 children, was born in New Haven, Connecticut, in 1908. He lived to be 96 years old. Patty sent me the following…
Back in the ’60s, I was a Junior Girl Scout from the fourth to sixth grade. This was at Sacred Heart Elementary School in Pittsfield, Massachusetts. No matter what you’ve heard about Thin Mints, let me assure you that back then Scouting was all about filling up that green sash with badges. Any girl with a drop of competitiveness in her soul worked every angle to earn more badges that her sisters in green. I scoured the thick blue Girl…
Remember the panic about the H1N1 flu a decade ago? There was good reason for that. The first time H1N1 struck was back in 1918. In the U.S., it was originally detected among military personnel, in the spring of that year. The Centers for Disease Control (CDC) estimates one-third of the world’s population was infected (about 500 million) by what was then called the Spanish Flu. There were at least 50 million deaths. The death toll included Private John Henry…