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Monday, December 31, 2018

Philly Meat Vendor Stall Coney Island - 1903







"Reyburn Club" - 15th Ward Republican Club - 19th and Fairmount - 1918



Sunday, December 2, 2018

John Pogey O'Brien, Circus Pioneer, Not So Destitute At The End?




John "Pogey" O'Brien, a pioneer in the art and culture of travelling Circus in America has a cliche like legacy as seen through the eyes of others. 

The big circus guy in his day was Adam Forepaugh, whose biography states that he assumed a partnership with John O'Brien, O'Brien owning him like $9k for horseflesh which was Forepaugh's original business after learning to be a butcher in his youth among other things. 

The partnership between O'Brien and Forepaugh would seem to me for their original two year relationship to be a learning curve as they both figured out the in, outs, profits and losses of running a travelling animal show as entertainment through rural America. 

The other character of the big three in travelling animal and exotic human entertainment was P.T. Barnum. 

In the end Barnum, being New York based, for most of the publicity and his name lives on to represent early circus and animal, athletic and freak exhibition to the hinterlands of early America.

These early circuses were more like a confederation of entertainers, acrobats, animals trainers, freak presenters and pick pockets, three card monty scammers and ticket sellers, scalping prices and short changing the rural rubes from town to town. 

Reading a few biographies and autobiographies, one hears of the circus organizers or owners like O'Brien, Forepaugh and Barnum getting a cut of all the con money made on the circus grounds for profit and or operating expenses. In many ways the circus was a travelling cash cow to a lot of hangers on, "carnies", run aways, outcasts, gypsies etc. 

That in a way when the Circus Owner could buy off the local sheriff to look the other ways to consumer complaints about scammers and cons, the owners "fixed a town" for those, the devils that you know, pick pockets, the three card montys, and snake oil salesmen within the confines of the temporary circus community and family of that travelling season. 

Having your own policing the circus grounds to keep a lid on the cons and not wise up the rubes too much was much better than having the local police parading through the grounds, ruining business and arresting regulars on the team so to speak. 

In later years as John O'Brien's health declined from asthma, his annual circus got smaller and smaller and no doubt the con part of the profits were more noticeable. Thus when he died, he had not run a circus for a few years and many in their biographies reinforced the idea of O'Brien being a gyp artist. 

Cannot find an obit in the local papers for O'Brien. Can you? I believe he no doubt owed a lot of people a lot money when he died. I somehow doubt a con artist is really totally poor when they die all the time. Lots of places to hide assets with relatives. 

O'Brien at one time owned the Seven Stars Hotel in Frankford. I see in the eighties it is owned and or managed by Oliver Campbell and his wife Ellen (nee O'Brien). That I would guess from Ellen's obit by her age that she may have been "Pogie's" sister and Oliver his brother in law. 


Inquirer 2 Nov 1922


His wife's home at I believe 1642 Harrison St. in Frankford must have been a modest row house. His wife lived until 1911. No local obits on her either. Only one small piece in Variety.

Variety - 16 Sept 1911

That O'Brien was extinct in the circus business by the time of his death in 1889. That the bigger players Forepaugh in 1890 and Barnum's demise in 1891 brought an end to an early era of Circus.



NY Spirit of the Times 28 Feb 1885


That Forepaugh and Barnum eventually being absorbed into the new modernly managed Circus of Ringling Brothers became the modern idea of circus entertainment with a minimum of con in the organization.

That I have to believe that O'Brien's tombstone in Cedar Hill Cemetery does not speak of a man who died destitute unless all the old circus people who wintered in Frankford and no doubt retired there as well passed the hat at the Seven Stars for a gravestone as monument to both the man and his pioneer industry. 




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Thursday, November 22, 2018

Some Notes on Great Aunt Rose Meehan McShay


Great Aunt Rose's House - Zeralda St near Wayne Ave., Nicetown, before 1959, from Cousin Peg Stoner, Left to Right, Rosalie Kremer, Rose Meehan "McShay", Joyce Kremer, Aunt Annie Cotterall, Rose's Sister, back to camera.


On a tangent, It took some time talking to a distant cousin on the Internet to find out the origins of the Meehan cousin who worked at Sears on the Boulevard except for WWII all his life and he and his wife were my godparents, the origins of his family. He and his sister were taken into my fraternal grandmother's house to be raised and cared for when their parents died and they were orphaned. The relatives that would have taken them in were Protestant and my grandmother would have none of that. They were Catholic and going to stay so. No social networks in those days or payments from Social Security for dependent children who lose one or both parents. 

Great Aunt Rose had left her children in the care of her Meehan clan and set off to the big city of Philly to make a living. She eventually settled into the position of cook to the household of a Mr. Bell who was I think President of Philco Radio after Philco rose from the ashes of the old Atwater Kent Radio (state of the art) factory over in Nicetown. With her savings Aunt Rose bought a house and brought her three sons home to Philly. She got her oldest son a job at Philco and he worked there after WWII until his retirement in the 1970s with pension from Ford who had bought out the Philco company in Philly.

Her other two sons worked at the Post Office post WWII and died young. Probably from the result of alcoholism. In and out of Veterans' hospitals from oral histories. Possibly PTSD too considering they were Marines that saw action at Guadalcanal and other battles in the Pacific theater of war.

The alcoholism and domestic abuse of her husband is what drove her to Philly for a better life for herself and her kids.

Somewhere along the timeline she legally changed her surname to the McShay spelling, different from her married name of McShea. Family oral history said that she did so on advice of a relative, a young monsignor in order that her divorce that she would not be talked out of would not affect the young monsignor's political ambitions when public notice of petitions for divorce where published in local newspapers. The difference in the spelling of her name would be plausible deniability for the young priest as to her not being his relative. We always thought that this priest was Bishop McShea whose cronies in the Vatican gave him Allentown as a consolation prize when they imported the Polish bishop from Cleveland to succeed Cardinal O'Hara and not a local Irish boy.  

The family oral history was not too accurate. I had to finally determine that Joe McShea was not a close relative as told to me by various relatives, though none knew exactly what the genealogy was. Lots of research needed in the end, because he seemed to keep his own family history close to his vest considered how his daddy was on one of the Sheriff's posse (deputy) who went postal on Coal Mine Strikers in 1897 at the Lattimer Mine Massacre. The only Catholic deputy on the Sheriff's crew btw. 

I do not believe Aunt Rose ever paid into Social Security and as such she was dependent in old age on savings and sharing her house with her oldest son and daughter in law. 

Strange old 1890s house. Four bedrooms. And I think that one of the bedrooms and the bathroom on the second floor got their natural light and air from a giant skylight that opened in the middle of the house above the dining room on the first floor, its only natural light. No ground floor window for the dining room. The giant skylight thing covered like 50% of the ceiling of the dining room. 

And Aunt Rose shared her house with her widowed sister Annie Cotterall. Story on Annie was her she had one daughter who died. She had deeded her house to her daughter as a wedding gift. When her daughter died at a young age, her son in law evicted Annie from his inherited form his wife's house. No social safety nets back then. Rose took in Annie and they were companions as such in old age. I do remember Annie was sickly but no medicare in those days. etc. Just family. 











Wednesday, November 21, 2018

Aunt Rose's "Chile" Sauce Recipe


(my father was an ex-army cook, WWII, and when he cooked there were no small pots used in the kitchen) (memories of Thanksgivings past)

Doing some genealogical studies a few years back, I looked and looked on the Internet for a recipe for "chili sauce" that my great aunt Rose had assembled in her Nicetown kitchen (Phila.) Some fifty odd years ago during a long summer break in grade school.


Great aunt Rose was a Meehan, her mother nee Breslin of the Mt Carmel, Pa. Breslins and Meehans, before that female family tree branch hooked up with several male McShea cousins over in McAdoo, Pa.. Aunt Rose was both my father's aunt by marriage and his first cousin once removed through his mother who was Breslin btw.

My father had a vacation and little money. He also wanted Aunt Rose to share a recipe that his mother had used to make. Aunt Rose was getting along in years. We went to a farmer in the country, bought fresh veggies and assembled something like an Irish-American version of salsa. Then there was the "canning" of such into mason jars.

I lost Aunt Rose's recipe that my father had written down. The "chili sauce" that she had made resided in my stored memory until I found something close to the original in composition and after I made it - in taste. In retrospect the Quest or the end of the search was probably as satisfying as the food.

I found a recipe in the 1923 Fanny Farmer cookbook under the label "Celery and Tomato" relish on the Internet that fit my memory and visuals of those two long dead relatives, my father and great aunt Rose, on that day in the kitchen five odd decades ago. The Internet does in many small ways serve humanity or at least this human from time to time.

(and of course the "chili sauce" recipe)

Tomato and Celery Relish

1 onion finely chopped
1 tablespoon salt
1 large green pepper, chopped
2 tablespoons sugar
1 large bunch celery, chopped
2 allspice berries
2-1/2 cups canned whole or fresh tomatoes
2/3 cup vinegar

Mix ingredients, heat gradually to the boiling-point, and cook slowly one and one-half hours. Cayenne or dry mustard may be added if liked more highly seasoned.



FYI:


Heinz 1910 - Chile Sauce - Tomato Relish








Saturday, November 17, 2018

Here Is To The Official Lincoln Civil War Thanksgiving Day - 2018




Christopher Columbus blvd in Philly long overdue to be renamed back to Delaware Ave.

CC a proven historical genocidal criminal. 


This also to wonder How American Thanksgiving is not a day of prayer and petition to help end and now remember how uncivil we once were to each other as a nation - sound familiar - in the bloody Civil War as in Abraham Lincoln, how it became a celebration of candy-ass Mayflower Wall Street types mooching a turkey dinner off the Local First Nation People types. Should have refused them service at the door - no soul no compassion and no respect (only greed) for the land.


Have a nice day. We are having pork on thursday btw. Cooking a turkey sucks! 

:-)



Thursday, November 8, 2018

Sign of the Seven Stars Inn - Frankford


(Stafford Philadelphia City Directory - 1800)

John Haines (Hains) 1774-1850

John T Haines 1803-1885








Wednesday, October 31, 2018

Sabbath Tales




I have met and know of some remarkable men in my life. Since it is Friday and tonight at sundown marks the start of the traditional Jewish Sabbath, let me tell a few tales.

The man who baptized me or more accurately the man who was founder and pastor of my parish in Philly was a fanatic of sorts. He started out life as an Episcopalian, then an Episcopalian priest, changed his Christian registration to R.C., spent two years in the local R.C. seminary and then went on to start a new R.C. parish. The parish was sort of in between, in Harrowgate in fact, near a lot of other established parishes in Frankford and Kensington, and the land in between those other churches began to be developed, houses built, and there was a need for a new church, school etc. in the first decades of the twentieth century in that part of Philly.

Let me call this man Father Ed. He was of the old “God is to be feared” school of beliefs. He was an Old Testament kind of guy.

He was dead by the time I reached first grade. I have heard stories about him. One from a home inspector who related the story about being an altar boy in my parish and being five minutes late for mass. Father Ed ranted into him at the end of service about how you can’t be late for God. The priest also made the boy serve everyday for a year at 6:00 a.m. mass as punishment. That priest made an impression on that guy but I don’t think that Father Ed made a friend.

Then, as it happens sometimes in life, a lady knocked on the door and said that she had been raised in our house and asked if she might get a quick nostalgic view inside. She then got into some stories about the neighborhood. The one story I remember most was about Father Ed.

There was a Russian tailor in our neighborhood. He also did dry cleaning and his store was a block away from our house. We did business with the man. In the story of the visiting lady we finally understood why some of our neighbors took their dry cleaning three blocks away and not use the local guy. The Russian was also a Jew and a good tailor I might add. My parents, for working class, were flaming liberals. Being Jewish did not matter to them. That and my father liked to haggle.

The lady went on to say that as a child, she and her friends used to taunt the man. Let me say anti-Semitism was rampant in America back then in the 1930's, at least in this neighborhood. Well Father Ed got wind of the fact that some of his parishioners and children were harassing the man and boycotting his business. Father Ed made it a point to visit the tailor and bring his dry cleaning four blocks from the rectory. In good weather, Father Ed sat on the store stoop and smoked a cigar together with the tailor as a means to make a statement of sorts to the neighborhood. Apparently Father Ed and the tailor became good friends as the result of this local anti-Semitism.

Which leads me to the story of my next door neighbor in Arizona. Perry had a remarkable life. Left home and dairy farm in Minnesota when he was fifteen in the middle of the depression and headed west. He wanted to be a cowboy and that he became for some years. Then when World War II broke out he went up to Canada and joined the fight. He hit Juno beach on D-Day as a lieutenant in the Canadian army. He married a Brit, brought his war bride home and settled into life in Arizona B.A.C. (before air conditioning).

Perry joined the post office and then worked his way up to postmaster before retirement. I got to talk to him over the fence as a neighbor. Good stories. Went into his house a few times and vice versa. All in all, he was a great neighbor.

Then one day his wife came to us to tell us that Perry had skin cancer, that they did some necessary surgery but that the disease may have spread. I am not sure how all this got started. Perhaps my neighbor’s wife was talking to my wife and then the topic came up about me being an elder in a local church. Apparently Perry had no religious ties. I would have assumed that he might have attended church in his youth in Minnesota. His wife asked if I would talk to him.

I went over to the man in his house and tried to give comfort. I don’t think he wanted me there. Perhaps he was in denial of his own mortality. No doubt he sensed how green I was in giving comfort. I admit it. I couldn’t do him any good. Between his resistance and my inexperience, I did not serve his needs very well sad to say. Perry died suddenly about two weeks later while working in the garden. We went to give comfort to the wife next door that night and then we attended a graveside service a few days later.

This is where I get some reality checks put into my little bubble world of beliefs. I met Episcopal nuns at the graveside. I never knew such an animal existed. They had educated Perry’s children. There were lots of neighbors, relatives and co-workers from the post office. The most interesting person I met was a female Rabbi. Perry was Jewish?

I was a bit taken aback. I had heard the story about how Perry and his war bride had built the second house in this desert housing community in 1948. When I closed on the house next door, I got my deed of title or whatever and included in the paperwork was a covenant of restrictions set on the property when it was built.

That covenant was of course stamped with a label “Null and Void under Federal Civil Rights Act of...” The nasty thing about that covenant was the few pages that made it quite clear in a long range of specifics that no ...”Jews, negroes or dogs...” were allowed in this housing development etc.

As it turned out, Perry had no religious affiliation. His wife was Jewish. I chuckled about how a man like Perry, this cowboy, this war hero, this postmaster must have laughed at the WASP covenant of restrictions. Here was a real individual. Here was an old fashioned American. Here was a man.

Perry had made arrangements with the rabbi to be buried in solidarity with his wife’s belief system. Was Perry a believer, an atheist, an agnostic? I don’t know. In retrospect I don’t care. I knew the man. He was a good ethical man. I prayed for him.

Part of being a cultural Christian is that you can embrace people of other beliefs, respect them and still retain you basic feel for yourself and not compromise your basic faith.

America’s greatest strength is and has always been its diversity.

Amidst this eclectic graveside audience, I had an epiphany. I also think that that paradigm shift thing happened.

It was fascinating to hear the twenty third psalm read in Hebrew. I am not certain that the Kaddish was said there but I realized something about my own belief systems. Christianity is wrapped up in a lot of layers of traditions, sacred tradition, faith, grace, propaganda, love, hate and on an on.

There under a blistering Tucson Arizona sun, prayers for a Jew were said in the desert. Were these the similar prayers that Joseph of Aramathea read over Jesus’ broken and lifeless body on Good Friday at twilight, eve of Sabbath?

You could be surrounded with stone cathedrals, and stained glass and the gospels could be read from a Gutenberg bible and the minister could be wrapped in gold cloth. But could you get any more from prayers at the end of your life than my neighbor got that day or when Jesus was interred and they rolled the stone in front of the tomb?

It makes you think. It made me think.



~2008~


Monday, October 29, 2018

Frankford - Winter Quarters and Home of Circus and Circus Folk - Seven Stars Hotel - 1870s 1880s




O'Brien's Circus usually wintered in Frankford in the northern side of that town after the Civil War. The main circus people there being mainly with John "Pogey" O'Brien's annual shows. Pogey nickname a corruption of Porgy, a fish that as a young man John O'Brien sold in the streets.

https://phillyandstuff.blogspot.com/2018/10/atlantic-house-philadelphia-circus.html


Seven Stars Hotel the center of the Circus Crowd. O'Brien once having owned it. The brick buildings north of in 1917 photo for storage of hay and stable for Circus animals, elephants etc. A line of row houses on Griscom street where circus people lived in a cluster in olden days.






1895 map






Even P.T.Barnum's favorite freak show fat lady Hannah Battersby lived in Frankford. She was buried in a maple coffin 7 feet long by 3 feet wide and 2 feet deep and carried on a specially reinforced wagon on her way to her final rest in Cedar Hill Cemetery.  

John O'Brien is also in Cedar Hill I believe, his career on the wane from his various very rich partnerships and franchise use of name over the years with the Forepaugh and Barnum circuses and offshoots, succumbing finally in his fifties to a lifelong case of asthma. 


NY Sign of the Times 28 Feb 1885



Inquirer 8 Jan 1924




Atlantic House Philadelphia - Circus Clearing House in Winter






Typo ? Allegheny House vs. Atlantic House 814 Market Street - The Ways of the Circus - George Conklin / Harvey W. Root 1921 Bio






(images, Philadelphia Record August 1906, of where winter quarter performers practiced and gave local performances twice a week as part of O'Brien performers in Frankford.)






(The ways of the circus; being the memories and adventures of...Conklin, George, 1845-1921)

(I cannot find anything on the net regarding an Atlantic House as a hotel or as a business name as in above autobiographical account.)





Ring Barn - SE Darrah and Foulkrod Streets




City of Philadelphia Ward 23 - 1887