Some progress

I won't add anything of Ned's story at the moment. My writing continues. I'm working on the chronology of Ned's story, not the chronological account of his life. I don't want to write it simply as a birth to death narrative but rather divide it into sections that span various times in his life. This means a bit of jumping back and forth.

Yesterday I shared the first few pages with a writing group in my genealogy society and got good feedback. The style we are using of creative non-fiction is not what most of them use. Their narratives are impressive from the point of view of research and clarity and tend to focus more on a narrative of history with references to their ancestors throughout the time. We are taking a different path in this challenge. My hope is that the end product is a readable story that lets my family come to know the ancestor better.

The members of the writing group all enjoyed the story. Suggestions for moving some sentences around did make a smoother flow. As authors we know what we are saying, I hope, but the reader may not. I had not included any maps or photos and that would have aided their understanding. I will try to put myself into the mind of the reader, rather than staying locked in my own where what I write makes sense to me. Easier said than done without going overboard with details that don't enhance the story.

Ned lived his entire life in Ottawa, where I live too. I know the city well and refer to neighbourhoods that automatically allow me to visualize the location. This was not the case for the reader. What I'm now struggling with is including a narrative to explain the setting so that the reader knows where the story is taking place in the city. The distinction between lowertown and uppertown is clear in my mind, but was not so for the others in the group. Now I will do some editing to try to make it clear. Hopefully the inclusion of historical maps and photos will help so that I don't have to write at great length.

If you are reading this and have any suggestions I am all ears.

Please meet Ned McGrath

This is my 'next' attempt at describing my main character. It is more concise but incorporates pretty much the same ideas as my first attempt a few days ago. Comments gratefully accepted.

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A wanted poster describing the man would bring in far too many suspects. The physical description would say: average height and build, light brown hair, blue eyes, high forehead, no scars, large moustache. Ho hum - could he be more ordinary? Well, let me tell you this man was anything but ordinary. His name was Edward Patrick McGrath but he was known to all as either E.P or Ned.

When Ned McGrath strode onto the floor at any gathering he stood much taller than his average height. His impeccable grooming, perfect posture and that fabulous 'stache drew every eye in the room - whether it was a social event or a political assembly. His demeanour commanded attention and respect when he was in attendance. Ned was famous within his largely Irish Catholic community of Mount Sherwood, and beyond. The McGraths were among the pioneer families in this area in the late 19th Century and worked tirelessly with their neighbours to bring progress to the district. Ned's gregarious nature, willingness to help everyone, deep liberal sentiments and devotion to family and community were legendary. None of his siblings were comfortable speaking in public, but Ned had such drive and determination to make life better for all, that he drew approval for many of his ideas and proposals at every opportunity. At several city elections over 25 years, Ned received a winning tide of votes for his platform. The citizens of Dalhousie Ward knew that they would always get a fair shake from this man despite any differences in race, religion, class or background. 

The extended McGrath family looked to Ned for help with chores, repairs and especially for the route to a good time. He had a knack for creating opportunities for fun as well as competition. Life was to be lived and he gave his best shot every time.

The headline in the Ottawa Citizen on December 29, 1932 proclaimed “ Ald. E.P.McGrath dies unexpectedly this afternoon”. He was 68 years old. An article published in the Ottawa Journal the following day, summed up the man that an entire city would mourn. 

Not just a house but a home

This is a work in progress. Parts of this may appear separately in the final product. The clipping about the Christmas party will be posted later.

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146 Lebreton Street! How could a mere address evoke such strong feelings? Just hearing it called to mind the painted wooden siding, the peaked shingled roof, the huge front porch rounded at one end, and the trap door under the linoleum in the kitchen that led to the scary earthen-floored basement. For as long as that home was standing, it was occupied by a McGrath. The simple two-storey frame house had been built by his father Michael McGrath, with some help from Ned. Their attachment to that house was intense. The porch of this house was Ned’s favourite place to be in the city.

Summers in Ottawa were often very hot and humid and with the wood stove burning in the kitchen, the resulting heat only made the rest of the house even more miserably warm. And so, they added a summer kitchen. Even sitting out on the porch was a rare pastime in the dog days of summer. But in Spring or Fall it was Ned's place to sit and think.

On this pleasant Spring evening Ned sat on the side porch, enjoying his pipe and reviewing his next project. Even after work he wore his suit, and being outdoors, his trademark bowler hat. In a briefcase he had brought home the plans he had started to examine at work. They needed further review. As usual he sat on the large wooden box. Ned liked that hard seat because it kept him alert as he processed each new idea. He did some of his best thinking there - alone. Minnie and the children went about their business, no longer offering a penny for his thoughts, and grateful that the often-present pipe was being smoked outside. Ned decided that he would share his plans, but all in good time. For now his presence was not required inside. Dinner would be ready soon and perhaps he’d share some news over his evening plate of meat and potatoes, but maybe not before sinking his fork into the tasty lemon cake for which Minnie was famous. For once he had no baseball or lacrosse game or political meeting to attend that evening. Boating season had not yet begun. Soon enough he heard Minnie call out “dinner's ready for anyone who’s hungry”. Putting work aside, he went in to join the family.

After Mass on Sunday, when the weather cooperated, he would sit outside, often joined by Minnie and some of his children and of course the neighbours who dropped by. Nobody sat there unless they had the time to spare. Duty was the first call and only once it had been discharged could a McGrath relax. Well, except on those occasions when relaxation was the duty that called.

Division of labour in the McGrath home was along very traditional gender lines. Nobody raised any objections as they all got on with what needed doing. The men handled their ‘manly’ tasks of repairs and exterior yard maintenance; and the women took on the cooking, cleaning, mending and of course quilting. The kitchen was the sacred domain of Minnie and her daughters and they produced wonderful meals and desserts. The yard belonged to Ned and the three boys. Ned and Minnie raised a very effective team using these rules, and family being together was foremost in their activities. Major decisions were made at home.

That home was the site of parties too, because if anyone did, the McGraths knew how to throw a party. Despite the modest size of the living area at #146, parties could be quite large. Two parties of note were reported in the local papers.

In late April of 1910, daughter Agnes married Harry Sunderland. Harry and Minnie were gracious hosts and welcomed 75 guests at the reception in their home. The Ottawa Journal gave a brief account of the event. They had so much fun that not a single photo was taken of the event.

At Christmas 1925, Ned and Minnie hosted a party for their large extended family, and this time The Ottawa Citizen printed the story. The monstrous Christmas tree occupied so much of the living room and the guests, after expressing awe at the spectacle, spread out through the dining room and kitchen to enjoy the festivities. Once again, no cameras were in evidence. 

The huge tree captured the imagination of their 6 year old granddaughter, Rita Sunderland, who forever after demanded that her parents make sure their own home had a tree that touched the ceiling.

A man to be admired

When Ned McGrath strode onto the floor at any meeting he stood tall, although average in stature. He commanded attention and respect and was well-known in his largely Irish Catholic community of Mount Sherwood, and beyond. The McGraths were among the original families in the area in the late 19th Century. Their gregarious nature, willingness to help everyone, deep liberal sentiments and devotion to family and community were legendary. Not all of them were comfortable in public, but Ned had such drive and determination to make life better that he drew approval and later votes, so that the goals in his election platform could be actioned, or at least brought to council for consideration.

From humble beginnings as the son of Irish famine immigrants, baptised Edward Patrick, he was always known as Ned, or sometimes the more formal "E.P." McGrath. The sixth son of Micheal McGrath and Catherine Brennan, he was rarely still for a moment. His parents were hard-working and supportive and had just lost a newborn son the year prior to Ned’s birth. Their ability to cope and persevere became part of the fibre of each of their offspring. The family would eventually grow to include 11 children, 9 sons and 2 daughters; 8 of whom lived to adulthood. His beloved mother Catherine died at the age of 44 in 1881, followed within weeks, by the passing of her youngest son, 4 year old Francis. At this time Ned was 17. His father Michael was devastated but his deep faith and fighting spirit allowed him to keep his large family together. Largely uneducated, Michael was a labourer, sometimes referred to as a carpenter, and he used his skills to earn a living and build the 2-storey frame home that was never occupied by another family for the more than 70 years it stood. Ned followed closely in his father’s footsteps as a woodworker, along with his older brothers John and Michael. The difference from his father being that Ned managed to get an education and was literate.

Imagine if you will, a young lad who tried to emulate his father and who succeeded, even beyond his father’s greatest dreams. Seldom alone in his large family, surrounded also by the friends and neighbours who were as much part of his life as his siblings, Ned grew to enjoy the fact that he could command an audience. His powers of persuasion as a politician must have been honed as he strove to make his own mark in his crowded personal world. He knew what he liked and made sure to include fun in his family’s life.

Well known also in the sporting community of Ottawa, Ned’s particular passions were baseball and boating. He was involved with the Ottawa Pastimes baseball team in their early years, beginning in the 1880s. In 1904 he bought a large pleasure boat, which he owned jointly with three others. Subsequently he became a member of the boating social scene in Ottawa and on the Rideau Canal and could often be seen as captain of The Fay, as it sailed to his cottage near the Long Island Locks. 

A devoted husband and father, and always a devoted son, Ned’s new family almost always shared a home with Michael. The loss of their first child, Mary Agnes Catherine at the age of three months, rocked their world. That baby was always included in an account of the children of Ned and Mary Ann (Morgan) McGrath. They named a later-born daughter Mary Agnes in her honour. Even when gone from the earth, nobody was forgotten in the McGrath clan.

Ned died, not suddenly but unexpectedly, on December 29, 1932 at the age of 67. He had fallen ill on December 5th, the very day he was once again elected as Alderman. Newspaper coverage of his passing was extensive. Several friends eulogized him. Two of his colleagues summed up the man very well. Both articles were printed in The Ottawa Journal on December 30th.

Home is the heart of it

Today's effort was a struggle to write. I have gone over this multiple times but can't come up with what I really wanted to say. So, I'll just copy the text into this post and hopefully tomorrow morning I will get inspired.
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Michael and Catherine McGrath’s growing family kept their small rented home on Baird St. a hive of activity. Five lively sons under the age of 9, of whom Ned was the youngest, kept them busy. Baird St was in the middle of the bustling Irish Catholic neighbourhood where everyone knew their neighbours, shared stories of their early lives in Ireland, traded memories of their emigration journeys, and shared the news from home when someone received a letter. But the area was changing and they would all soon be displaced for the development of the area. With a growing sense of urgency, Michael decided to move “uptown”. The year was 1865. Canada was not even a country yet and Ottawa had a population of 7,000 souls. He was a pioneer in the city but even more so in the area later known as Mount Sherwood or Ashburnham Hill.

There really was no “town” near the new location. It was beyond the city limits. Few actual streets divided the area and access was a challenge. Michael had found a property at what is now the corner of Booth and Willow Streets, a distance of about 6 kilometers away. The first few kilometers were relatively easy to traverse with the family’s goods and chattles piled in a horse-drawn cart. However, the nearest roadway to their new home was Somerset Street - a good few hundred meters away from their new front door. From there Michael had to carry all of their belongings through what was essentially a cedar swamp. His young sons weren’t much help. But Michael had chosen the neighbourhood well. This area would eventually be a new centre of Irish life and the hard work and cooperation among the neighbours brought some much needed initiatives.  

The Quiet Man

Margaret walked downstairs to prepare breakfast and wondered if she would be alone or would she find the old man silently reading his newspaper. Sure enough, there he was, sitting at the dining table just like every time before. The elderly stranger was of average height and build, had wispy white hair, was immaculately groomed in his high-collared shirt and tie, and as usual, was paying no attention to his surroundings. Ignoring the man, she went ahead and made herself coffee and toast. By the time she sat down to eat, he was gone. He was in no way threatening, although it was always a bit of a surprise when he appeared at the table. 

It was some years after these visits had stopped, that Margaret’s daughter Teresa visited her cousin Rita to collect the McGrath family bible. There were several old photos pressed between the pages. As Rita removed them and spread them out on the table, Teresa exclaimed “that’s him, that’s the ghost that read the paper in our dining room” as she pointed to the photo of a dapper gentleman. The man in the photo was Edward Patrick "Ned" McGrath, Teresa’s previously unknown great grandfather and Rita’s much-loved and well-remembered grandfather. Teresa had never seen a photo of Ned before that moment. Both of the women were struck by the realization that the news-reading visitor was the ghost of Ned McGrath. He had died more than three decades earlier. 

What was it that Ned had left unfinished? Is that why he appeared multiple times? Why did he wait so long after his death to come back? Why was he seen only in that particular place? Why did he later stop visiting? 

Would trying to reconstruct his life provide some answers?

The Family History Writing Challenge

I have committed to writing every day in the month of February, through an online writing course for family historians. The aim is to write creative non-fiction. The facts are the facts, but putting them in a setting and giving life to the characters will hopefully make it more interesting to my family. The last thing they want is to have a boring recitation of facts or a binder full of charts.

So, I have chosen to write about Ned McGrath. He was my maternal great grandfather and the ancestor about whom I've got the most information. Thank you Ned - your public life as an alderman, active Liberal and sportsman made sure that the main events in your life were widely covered in the local papers. Now that those papers are digitized I've been mining them for information and have a lot of material. And by the way, after he died he was a ghost. Stay tuned.

So - if you are interested in following my writing journey, I plan to copy each day's output into this blog. I would appreciate feedback, comments and constructive criticism. If you should happen to have any photos or stories that I might not have, by all means please get in touch with me.