MARY HARRIGAN
Mary Harrigan in 1921
Mary
A. Harrigan was born December 28, 1848, in Tipperary,
County Tipperary, Ireland. Her father was James Harrigan, and her mother
was Anne Kennedy. She had five brothers: Patrick, John, James, Michael,
and Edmund, and one sister, Johanna. They were christened in the parish
church of St. Michaels in Tipperary town.
Tipperary
is an old town, nearly 800 years old, in fact. The Harrigans are shown
in tax records in Bohercrow townland, just
outside of Tipperary town.
Mary
landed at Castle Garden, New York in 1865, at the age of 17. There is no
record of her entering the United States. She is shown as lost at sea,
because she slipped away over the fence with some cousins, named Irwin
that she saw accidentally. They gave her a glorious week while her sister
was looking for her. Finally found, she went with her sister, Anne (Johanna)
Lynch, to Clinton, Iowa. She worked very hard, mainly for thanks, so ran
away to Chicago, to a cousin, Mrs. Lawson, on Randolph Street. Mary stayed
with her, and in a year met and married John Carey, at the age of 18 on
13 July 1866 in Chicago. (Mary's daughter, Anne Carey Rossing, reported
that after Mary died it was said that Mary Harrigan certainly made a big
step down when she married John Carey, for she was Irish quality.) Mary
had fourteen children. Twelve children lived past infancy.
In
1897 John Carey died, leaving Mary a widow at the age of 47. She moved
to 123 Lytle, and then by 1908 bought a home at 1923
S. Central Park, in Chicago. Her grandson, Harvey Rossing, remembers
her as being "very much the mistress of the household, and really the person
who ran it, even though, at one time three of her daughters lived there
with her, as well as a son, a son-in-law, and three grandchildren."
1920 census
Another
grandson, Patrick's son William Carey, remembers that the house on Central
Park was always crowded. As a small child he would go around pulling on
pants legs, saying "Daddy", and not always being right - the Carey brothers
all looked so much alike.
Mary's
granddaughter Dolores Carey Gonczo remember some of the events associated
with Mary's death: "She had a heart problem. Her doctor was Dr. Hamlin,
and he gave her some medication. She asked him: "Will this give me a new
heart?" When he replied that it wouldn't, she refused to take the medicine.
According to Anne, a few minutes before she passed away having been in
a coma for quite some time, she suddenly sat up, opened her eyes, and said,
"I'm coming, Bill". Whether this is some of Anne's Irish "folklore" or
the truth, I do not know, but I do remember that as a child, it made quite
an impression on me." Mary died November 23, 1923, at the age of 74. She
was buried in Calvary Cemetery on November
26, 1923.
Obituary
notice of Mary Harrigan Carey (Chicago Daily Tribune, Saturday, November
24, 1923):
Mary Harrigan Carey, son James Carey,
granddaughter Mae Carey Johnson,
and great-grandson Roland Johnson.
by Dolores Carey Gonczo
I
spent a lot of time with Grandma Carey, and she was truly an "Irish Matriarch".
She ruled — and I do mean ruled — from her Morris chair. She was
a very heavy woman, and she sat in that chair and dictated what each one
of her children were to do, regardless of the fact that they were married
and had children. One of the events I remember from early childhood was
when Grandma decided she was going to curb the cemetery lot at Calvary
Cemetery. She dictated that each one of the boys were to donate $10 towards
it, and each of the girls $5. When my mother asked her why the girls (who
were married) only donated $5, her curt answer was "because her husband
is a stranger!"
Grandma
ruled the roost - every year all the boys that worked, married or
unmarried, bought a new front parlor carpet, and the year-old one went
into the back parlor. The Carey boys had to be in by 9 p.m., and the man
next door used to set his watch by the boys rounding the corner and sprinting
on home.
Another
event I remember (or was told about) is that she dictated that each one
could only get married in chronological order. But my Father and Mother
(who was German) decided to get married before John and Mae Hickey were
married (John was two years older than my Dad), and that, coupled with
the fact that my father was marrying a German girl, Grandma came to the
wedding - but, she came in after the wedding party had gone down the aisle
and sat in the back pew. Hence, she was the first one to congratulate
them! She would never give the neighbors anything to talk about.
She
was a person of intense likes or dislikes where people are concerned. I,
as a child, would be out on the porch with her at 1923 S. Central Park,
Chicago, when a neighbor would come along. If she liked the neighbor, she
would be very friendly, but if she disliked them, she was curt, nasty,
and sometimes cut them cold.
But
she was a lovely lady, and I do mean lady. I, too, had heard that she was
much higher class than her husband, and many a time, sitting at her feet
in the Morris chair, she would regale us with stories of Ireland, and the
fact that "we are all descendants of Brian Boru on one side of her family
and the King of Munster on the other side of her family."
REMEMBERING GRANDMA
by Ruth Wheelock Matheny
I
was pretty young when she died, and I have only two memories. I always
picture her as sitting on a throne on the side of the living room!
My other memory is an unfortunate one: For some reason, I stamped my foot
at her, and I "got it" from the whole family.
My
mother said that she was violently opposed to the use of makeup by her
daughters. When they were young ladies, she would still stand by the front
door with a damp cloth and swipe the face of anyone wearing even powder!
They
were a happy family, though, who made their own fun. They enjoyed sing-alongs.
My mother said she never learned to play the piano because every time she
tried to practice, one of her brothers would hop on one foot, waiting for
her to play the next note!
I
know that some of them went with Grandfather Carey to the Columbian Exposition
in 1893.
