Author Archives: Mary Jo Clark

I went down to Orlando in March of ’44, and in July we came home on furlough. We took the bus to Titusville, Florida, to get the train. I was wearing a white suit, white gloves, white purse. We put our bags in a locker at the train station and went into a drugstore. The […]

The morning of my wedding, Catherine came over to help me get ready. She started putting my makeup on. I said, “Don’t put it so heavy.” She said, “Do you think that I would make you look terrible for your wedding day?” The flowers came. My mother was a little woman, and she looked at […]

Pa always took Marge and me with him on a summer’s night when he went to get his pail of beer. One night he had to work overtime. We were little kids, three and four, and he was coming home late from work–and there were his two little girls walking down the alley with his […]

One afternoon we sat on the front porch with the lady next door. The doctor went into our house with his little black bag, and this woman told us that the doctor was bringing a new baby to my mother. Of course we thought he brought her in the little black bag. That was my […]

When I was about five years old my mother was taking Marge and me to church. We were living on Tripp Avenue, where Rosemarie was born. My mother told us that all we had to do was stand when people stand, kneel when people kneel, sit when they sit, and keep quiet while the service […]

One day not too many years ago, I was at work and this man comes in. He walks right past the sign that says Authorized Personnel Only, and he walks straight over to my desk in the middle of the office and says, “Were you in second grade at the Ericson School?” I hadn’t been […]

Vince was scheduled to have a furlough in March 1943. So I called up the chancery office one day and asked if we could be married at mass during Lent. It used to be you couldn’t be married during Lent. The priest said, “Would you say that again?” So I said it again, and he […]

The people who owned the building where we lived wanted our flat for their son. Now, apartments were very difficult to find in 1920. So my mother and father went looking. They looked at this flat on Flournoy Street, but the man said, “No, I don’t want children.” So they went to other places, and […]

My father always knew where to get it. There were many bootleggers around the neighborhood. One day a neighbor woman came running into our house and said, “Mrs. Ryan, I don’t know what I’m going to do. I have Patrick’s still in my basement. They’re expecting a raid over there.” They had moved Patrick’s still […]

There were double-decker buses on Sacramento Boulevard in 1924, when I was ten. The big sport on Sunday afternoon was to ride up to the statue at Logan Square, which was the end of the line, and sit around until the bus decided to go back. Ten cents. And then you had to pay another […]