who seemed to do a lot of the talking that day, said,“Henrietta, there is nothing like good home-made soup.” At which, I went to the kitchen and said to Pamela, who was helping me, “Dump the tins. Quick.” I told Connie, in private, later, and we had many a laugh over it. It was Campbell’s soup.
‘…
I wrote Emily some time ago I will soon get an answer, she like Mary very much, I mean she seems very fond of her, she too has a young daughter, I hear nothing from Peter, why dont you write Joe, if you don’t care to, let Jim, I feel for him in his trouble – Address – Mr Joseph O’Brien – 157 Dikeman Street, Brooklyn, N.Y. – U.S.A. I wished he was near us in the country the city here is no place to live, the air is so different, no one care for you there, everyone for themselves, but I don’t think his wife will ever come near any of his relatives, trusting to hear from you soon love to yourself and baby and Jim, before I close, There is a Henry Bolger Working in one of our banks and his father came here many years ago from vinegar Hill section
, *
his name is James ask Jim if he ever had an uncle James Bolger, I think he is some relative to Jim he has red hair, a fine fellow, I had him Henry ask his father what part of Ireland he came from, he came to America many years ago, write soon – John and Mary
.
‘I think it might have been the following year that we went to America; I can’t remember exactly.’ It was in March. We were there for Patrick’s Day. Jack and Connie met us at the airport and, from then on, it was like a pilgrimage. We visited Roslyn, where the Hylands had settled, a beautiful little town on Long Island, very picturesque, quite touristy in its look. We saw, and prayed in, the church where Great-Granny Hyland and her sons and daughters had attended Mass. We saw the graveyardwhere they are buried. The funny thing there was, knowing we were coming to America, Jack and Connie had gone earlier to the Great-Granny’s grave; they wanted it looking its best. But the day we arrived, we hunted and hunted in bitter cold, but we could not find the grave. Connie said, “Knowing Great-Granny Hyland, I can imagine her sticking her head up and saying, ‘Gotcha.’”
‘Two tall wooden houses were pointed out to me. These had been the homes of the two Hyland daughters and their two Daly brother husbands. The Beekmans, as children, had visited them regularly. They told me that their Beekman relatives were very nice people, but rather staid and serious. * They much preferred their visits to their mother’s relatives, where they had lots of fun. I don’t know how an Irish family ended up with the surname Beekman; I have absolutely no idea. It never crossed my mind to ask. Connie never mentioned how her parents had met. She wasn’t a secretive woman. It was just, I didn’t ask, and she didn’t say.’
The fourth letter is dated August 9th, 1925. It is handwritten, in black ink, on ‘City of New York InsuranceCompany’ notepaper. In the list of directors, J. Carroll French had been replaced by Ferd. Ermisch, asst. secty. John J. Beekman’s address is now 151 Front Street, Hempstead, NY.
‘Dear Sister Ellie – I wrote you several letters perhaps they did not reach you at your old address
. My parents had had a flat in Castlewood Avenue, in Rathmines; but, to my knowledge, Máire was the only one born there. I’d been born by the time this letter was sent –
In cleaning my desk I found your present address. I have not much news to relate thank God, we are all well at this writing. I hope and trust you are the same. I reckon your children are able to walk and talk by now –
I was only seven weeks old. They obviously hadn’t heard about me yet –
Uncle Mike, Pat, aunt Mary and Emily are all well. I drove over about a week ago with Mary and Robert and Euphemia and took aunt Mary and two of her children Alice and Gordon to the beach we had a real good time, we go several times a week
‘…
I wrote Emily some time ago I will soon get an answer, she like Mary very much, I mean she seems very fond of her, she too has a young daughter, I hear nothing from Peter, why dont you write Joe, if you don’t care to, let Jim, I feel for him in his trouble – Address – Mr Joseph O’Brien – 157 Dikeman Street, Brooklyn, N.Y. – U.S.A. I wished he was near us in the country the city here is no place to live, the air is so different, no one care for you there, everyone for themselves, but I don’t think his wife will ever come near any of his relatives, trusting to hear from you soon love to yourself and baby and Jim, before I close, There is a Henry Bolger Working in one of our banks and his father came here many years ago from vinegar Hill section
, *
his name is James ask Jim if he ever had an uncle James Bolger, I think he is some relative to Jim he has red hair, a fine fellow, I had him Henry ask his father what part of Ireland he came from, he came to America many years ago, write soon – John and Mary
.
‘I think it might have been the following year that we went to America; I can’t remember exactly.’ It was in March. We were there for Patrick’s Day. Jack and Connie met us at the airport and, from then on, it was like a pilgrimage. We visited Roslyn, where the Hylands had settled, a beautiful little town on Long Island, very picturesque, quite touristy in its look. We saw, and prayed in, the church where Great-Granny Hyland and her sons and daughters had attended Mass. We saw the graveyardwhere they are buried. The funny thing there was, knowing we were coming to America, Jack and Connie had gone earlier to the Great-Granny’s grave; they wanted it looking its best. But the day we arrived, we hunted and hunted in bitter cold, but we could not find the grave. Connie said, “Knowing Great-Granny Hyland, I can imagine her sticking her head up and saying, ‘Gotcha.’”
‘Two tall wooden houses were pointed out to me. These had been the homes of the two Hyland daughters and their two Daly brother husbands. The Beekmans, as children, had visited them regularly. They told me that their Beekman relatives were very nice people, but rather staid and serious. * They much preferred their visits to their mother’s relatives, where they had lots of fun. I don’t know how an Irish family ended up with the surname Beekman; I have absolutely no idea. It never crossed my mind to ask. Connie never mentioned how her parents had met. She wasn’t a secretive woman. It was just, I didn’t ask, and she didn’t say.’
The fourth letter is dated August 9th, 1925. It is handwritten, in black ink, on ‘City of New York InsuranceCompany’ notepaper. In the list of directors, J. Carroll French had been replaced by Ferd. Ermisch, asst. secty. John J. Beekman’s address is now 151 Front Street, Hempstead, NY.
‘Dear Sister Ellie – I wrote you several letters perhaps they did not reach you at your old address
. My parents had had a flat in Castlewood Avenue, in Rathmines; but, to my knowledge, Máire was the only one born there. I’d been born by the time this letter was sent –
In cleaning my desk I found your present address. I have not much news to relate thank God, we are all well at this writing. I hope and trust you are the same. I reckon your children are able to walk and talk by now –
I was only seven weeks old. They obviously hadn’t heard about me yet –
Uncle Mike, Pat, aunt Mary and Emily are all well. I drove over about a week ago with Mary and Robert and Euphemia and took aunt Mary and two of her children Alice and Gordon to the beach we had a real good time, we go several times a week
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