I'm sure many on this site have read Angela's
Ashes by Frank McCourt? Those who have know it's a very moving story.
My father's family lived Down Neck and was very poor. They had around
10 children plus they took in 3 orphans( social safety net ). My
grandparents had very big hearts and were willing to share the "nothing"
that they owned. Granny had to deal with poverty, prejudice, sickness
and alcoholism. Those were in the days before postpartum blues.
Many family's were like that back in the early 1900's. They weren't
all like the "Brady Bunch" and the McCourt Family was
not unique.
My grandfather was illiterate for he could neither read nor write.
Most of the time he worked as a laborer. Like many of us from his
genetic code there was a weakness for the "little creature".
Granny would have to go to the gin mill on payday and carry him
home over her shoulder. She did this to preserve what was left of
his the pay. My father told me Grandpa almost got arrested on the
beach in Ocean Grove ,N.J. I'm sure most people with the exception
of Grandpa knew that Ocean Grove was a dry town. Grandpa snuck a
bottle of whiskey onto the beach and was caught nipping it. I'm
not sure if he was a heavy drinker or an alcoholic. I would like
to think at worse it would have been the former.
When my parents got married in 1927 they lived in a 2nd floor
flat, on South 12th Street. Right next to West Side High School.
As I'm sure we all remember that in the first year or two of housekeeping
none of us had much furniture. Or anything else that the years allowed
us to acquire. I'm certain that my parents were not an exception.
I always remember my father telling what Grandpa said when he visited
his home for the first time. He said "Charley this is a palace".
You can see where he was coming from.
That always impressed me .
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