INTRODUCTION

I am Matthew F.J. McGuire and had these recordings transcribed.  This introduction is to help you understand who was being spoken about.  I’ve added some comments (see italicized statements in parentheses to help with understanding the context of remarks.)

About 35 -36 years ago, my father James P. McGuire and his older brother, Matthew F. McGuire, sat around our kitchen table at 23 Lawndale Street at tow different times.  My brother, James P.D. McGuire, had the foresight to record their conversations.  What you don’t hear is my nephew, Joshua C. McGuire, yelling and carrying on in the background.  My mother, Clare (Connors) McGuire, and father, James P. McGuire, had four children, Marianne (now O’Malley), James P.D., Edward C. and Matthew F.J.

My father had two siblings who lived to adulthood, an older brother, Matthew F., and a younger sister, Kathleen A. McGuire.  My father’s father’s name was also James.  My father’s mother’s name was Catherine (Kelly) McGuire. My mother’s maiden name was Clare Connors. My Aunt Kathleen’s husband’s name was William Conners. So my Uncle Bill was Conners with a “ers” ending and Mom was “ors”.

 

[My father, James P. McGuire (DAD), reminiscing his growing up in Charlestown; my mother Clare McGuire (CLARE) chiming in; Donna McGuire (DONNA), brother Jim’s wife and Joshua’s mom.  My brother Jim (BRO. JIM) was also asking questions.] Click the button here to get some background information about Charlestown.

 

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[some conversation amongst folks]

 

CLARE:Please describe your Uncle Tom.

 

DAD:My Uncle Tom was my bachelor uncle and, uh ... [lots of background conversation, noise and movement of microphone, screaming child]. 

 

DONNA: There’s nothing like having an older son.  He understands little children.  [Child

    speaking in microphone – “have coffee?]  Matt drank his coffee, now he’s having 

   milk, if you finish your coffee, you can have milk. 

 

DONNA:I wanta know about being picked up.

 

DAD:About being what?

 

CLARE:Picked up.

 

DAD:Picked up.

 

CLARE:I want to know who all your friends were in childhood.

 

DAD:Well, my next door neighbor, Johnny Banfield, was the wheel man for the Brinks robbery.

 

DONNA:He was?

 

[child making noises right next to the microphone]

 

DAD:Never did a day’s time(jail) in his life.  There was also, uh, he and [inaudible] McGlinsy and Kelley did the million dollar robbery of the Customs House – warehouse [inaudible – child pounding].  On the waterfront.  Charlestown Custom agency.  But, uh, he died under more or less mysterious reasons – uh, causes, nobody knew what happened to him.  [This refers to the Boston Brink’s robbery 1950]

 

DONNA:Was he able to spend his money?

 

DAD:I don’t know whether he spent – I imagine he did spend it, yes.  Uh, I think they spent something like, oh, coulda spent a couple hundred thousand dollars in a coupla years and, well, wine, women and good times – race tracks – race tracks got a lot of it.  Gambling got a lot of it.  We had another kid on the street, Cameo O’Daughtery ...

 

BRO. JIM:Cameo O’Daughtery?

 

DAD:Cameo O’Daughtery.

 

BRO. JIM:The guy that lived next door was the wheel driver for the Brinks job?

 

DAD:And, Cameo ...

 

BRO. JIM:Was he a friend of yours when you grew up?

 

DAD:Oh, sure, in fact we lived and ate with him, we’d go in the house and mother would give him bread and butter and everything else.

 

BRO. JIM:What did your mother, what did your mother think when he, when – what did Grandma think when she found out that he was the wheel man?

 

[child playing with noise toys on table next to microphone]

 

DAD:He was always a good man.  He was always a wonderful boy.  In her estimation, he was never anything but a good boy and his first cousin is a, uh, right now, he’s just retired as a Jesuit priest missionary of the West Indies after about 40 years.  Yeah, Johnny Sullivan.  His, uh, his mother died when he was about, uh, six or seven [inaudible – child talking into microphone and pounding on table] and Johnny Banfield.  His mother died about the same year – both mothers died of TB [tuberculosis] and, uh, the fathers were widowers at a very early age and two maiden sisters brought up both boys.  One was a priest and one ...

 

[a great deal of child noise]

 

CLARE:What was the rule among your friends if you were apprehended by the law?

 

DAD:You always gave your first name, but you never gave your last name.

 

BRO. JIM:Was your brother Matt ever apprehended by the police?

 

DAD:No, never.  He didn’t go around with the same boys.  He was always ...

 

CLARE:He went around with the nice boys.

 

DAD:He went out around the nice boys, right.

 

CLARE:They had an orchestra.

 

DAD:They had an orchestra, yeah.

 

CLARE:And, Matt played the violin and Matt worked in the drugstore.

 

DAD:Yeah.

CLARE:And, Matt didn’t do any of the things your father had.  Or never had any of the friends your father had.

 

[child pounding and talking into microphone]

 

DAD:But, uh ...

 

CLARE:Why did they call Bone Dome, Bone Dome?

 

DAD:Call Bone Dome O’Brien.

 

BRO. JIM:Because he was bald?

 

DAD:Bone Dome.  Because when the cop picked him up, he asked him what his name was and he said John Kelley and he said what was your father’s name.  He said David O’Brien, so they called him Bone Dome [child very noisy right by microphone].  In other words, you gave your first name, Jimmie, cause somebody’s liable to say, hey, Jimmie ...

 

CLARE:What name did you always use?

 

DAD:McNamara.  And, if anybody said, hey, Mac, and [inaudible], the cop would say what are they callin’ Mac for, so you gave your same first name, but never the – and the last name was Mac.

 

CLARE:Your father by the grace of God and his mother’s prayers never had a (criminal) record.  And, she [his mother] called him “Sunny” Jim [inaudible] [child talking and singing directly into the microphone and pounding on a glass].

 

DAD:I – we were shooting craps one Sunday and the game was going along beautifully and I decided to go in the drugstore and have a lemon lime, so I went in the drugstore, had a lemon lime and while I’m drinking my lemon lime, the wagon’s backing up [the “police wagon” picking up people who were being arrested] – everybody’s going [child yelling and pounding], they were all arrested and I guess fined something like $5.00 for gaming.

 

[Clare to Joshua: We are recording what papa did for amusement.”]

 

CLARE:What’d you do for amusement?

 

DAD:You either played ...

 

[child screaming and pounding]

 

CLARE:Josh, hush.

 

DAD:We played ball on the street [child crying] and stayed there until somebody complained, uh, the cops came along and then you went in forty different directions [child talking, pounding].

 

BRO. JIM: Is Matt what, six years older than you, four years older than you?

 

DAD:Four, yeah.

 

CLARE:Five.

 

DAD:Four sometimes, five some other times.

 

CLARE:Their birthdays are between May and July [Uncle Matt was May 29 and Dad was July 21], so sometimes he’s five years older and sometimes he’s four years older.

 

DAD:And, uh, you also had, you also had some – Kathleen was between you and Matt, but there were some other children there?  There was one, Edward – between Kathleen and me.

 

BRO. JIM:He died?

 

DAD:He died.

 

BRO. JIM:At birth, or ...

 

DAD:Uh ...

 

CLARE:No.

 

DAD:No.

 

CLARE:No, no.

 

[child talking]

 

DAD:Mother, my mother ...

 

BRO. JIM:Is he the one that fell out of the highchair?

 

DAD:Huh, uh, he fell out of a rocking chair.  Highchair, rather, yeah.  In other words, she [Catherine (Kelly) McGuire) left him to scrape, you know, clean out the fire and with that he leaned forward and apparently fell, hit his head and that was it.

 

BRO. JIM:How old were you then?

 

DAD:Oh, I, I may not have been around, I don’t know.  He was older than I was.  He was only a baby, I don’t think he was a year old.

 

CLARE:And, then after daddy, there were twins.  And, what were their names?

 

DAD:Uh, Mary ...

 

CLARE:Marie.

 

DAD:Marie and Thomas, yeah, Marie and Thomas.

 

CLARE:Then they both died.

 

DAD:They both died, they had, uh, spinal meningitis at the time.

 

DONNA:How old were they?

 

DAD:There was an epidemic of it at the time or something and ...

 

CLARE:He doesn’t really know, I don’t think.  Kathleen would be more apt to know that.

 

[child talking into microphone]

 

CLARE:And, Jim also had rheumatic fever and was sick for months.

 

DAD:It was the summertime, too, that was awful.

 

BRO. JIM:Did you live in the same house from the time you were born until you left home?

 

DAD:Oh, no, no.

 

BRO. JIM:Well, you lived ...

 

CLARE:He was born in Roxbury [Massachusetts].

 

DAD:I was born in Roxbury.  On, uh, Kelley’s block – what they called George Street.

 

BRO. JIM:Your father worked on the railroad?

 

DAD:No, my father at that time worked – I’m, I’m just remembering what somebody tells me – I think – I don’t know whether it was ...

 

BRO. JIM:Grandma [Catherine, my grandmother] came from Nova Scotia, right?

 

DAD:No, Newfoundland.

 

BRO. JIM:She came from Newfoundland.

 

DAD:Newfoundland.  My father was a “Newfie.”  My mother was practically born there, but she was born in Nova Scotia.

 

BRO. JIM:They, they came ...

 

DAD:Prince Edward Island, not Nova Scotia.  They don’t call it – PEI.

 

CLARE:PEI.

 

MATT:Had they, had they immigrated to Prince Edward Island when they came here initially?

 

BRO. JIM:No.

 

CLARE:Grandma’s mother [Catherine (Kelly) McGuire] died at birth.

 

DAD:Grandma – yeah, and then her father married again and they would, uh, perhaps get a ship out of Newfoundland – they might get a ship out of PEI.  They may get a ship out of Portland.

 

BRO. JIM:How’d they get to PEI, though?

 

DAD:By boat.

 

CLARE:From Ireland, he doesn’t know.

 

CLARE:One-boat or two-boat Irish, you know that one.  If you are one-boat Irish ...

 

DAD:[inaudible]

 

CLARE:If you came from Ireland from Newfoundland.

 

DAD:If you were one-boat, you came to Boston, Philadelphia or New York.

 

BRO. JIM:Philadelphia.

 

CLARE:But, if you’re two-boat Irish, you have to take another boat.

 

BRO. JIM: [inaudible]

 

MATT:[inaudible]

 

CLARE:[inaudible] in New York.  He’s one-boat [my grandfather, James McGuire], because they landed in Newfoundland and did not make the rest of the journey to the states until a later time.  His ...

 

BRO. JIM:That’s two boats.

 

CLARE:His grandfather, that’s two-boat.

 

DAD:My father stopped.

 

CLARE:But, your father was originally a one-boat Irish.

 

DAD:Yeah.

 

CLARE:Or his father was.

 

DAD:Yeah.

 

CLARE:And, so is your father – your mother’s father.

 

DAD:Yeah.  Now, they generally followed the, followed the sea, like for example ...

 

BRO. JIM:Your father was – worked on the ocean?

 

DAD:No, my father – as soon as – they all tried to get to the states as soon as they can – 19 or 20 years old.

 

CLARE:Grandma’s[Catherine McGuire] brother Morris (Kelly) went to sea when he was twelve years old.

 

DAD:Twelve years old, yeah.

 

CLARE:As a cabin boy.  And, almost all the people from Newfoundland were all seafarers.

 

DAD:Now, my mother’s father was what they call “sail foreign,” now when they sailed foreign, that meant that they’d be gone anywhere from nine months to a year, in other words, they’d go Portugal, Germany, etc., and they’d go even as far as the Pacific.  They may be gone longer.  And, Tom was the same way, he went ...

 

CLARE:Uncle Tom followed the seal.

 

DAD:Followed the sealing and there’s a book on sealing [“Off the Ice”] that, uh ...

 

CLARE:We have it.

 

DAD:... uh, well, we gave it to Joe Burke.

 

CLARE:We’ll get it back.

 

DAD:Sealing is, uh, was hard.

 

CLARE:Now, he remembers Uncle Tom telling him how tragic it was.  That they would go out and take the baby seals, you know, and the mothers would cry.  Not only that, it was, uh, terribly hazardous, you know, because they would be cut off sometimes from their ship.

 

DAD:I mean, if there would be a break in the ice and they’d [whistling] – that’s the end of it –just gone.  No way of getting back.

 

CLARE:And, deep, deep faith [Roman Catholic], uh ...

 

DAD:They had ...

 

CLARE:... from, like your Uncle Tom is the one who told you the story about the rosary.

 

DAD:Yeah.  I remember that.

 

CLARE:Tell him about that one.

 

DAD:They were in, uh – they were in a storm and I mean it was practically hopeless conditions.

 

CLARE:Cause they were all sailing vessels.

 

DAD:Yeah, and they climbed the mast and tied the rosary beads around the tip of the mast – they knotted them on the mast and after the storm died away and they went up and took – to get the beads, the beads were right across – not the tip of the mast, but right along the crossbar, just the same as if you just took and left ‘em right on top(unknotted).

 

CLARE:Can you imagine little boys listening to this?

 

DAD:It’s just the same as if somebody just kept ‘em and put ‘em on top.

 

CLARE:Bill’s [my Aunt Kathleen’s husband, Bill Conners] followed the sea.

 

DAD:We’ve lost practically – lost two or three uncles in battle.

 

CLARE:And, they had a widow’s walk [child talking and banging] and, uh, they went down to watch the ship go out and after – about an hour after it went out, they tolled the bells and went back to the lookout and the ship was coming back and Uncle Bill’s – uh, they came back in port cause they immediately knew there was something happened and Uncle Bill’s father was standing beside his brother when his brother was washed overboard and Uncle Bill’s father went in after him, but couldn’t get him, but they managed to get a line to Bill’s father and get him back.  But, I mean, the whole history of Newfoundland is austere and tragic, you know.  [Neither could swim]

 

DAD:Then they come up here and a lot of ‘em ...

 

BRO. JIM: How did you – how did you – your mother came here and married or your mother came here ...

 

DAD:They came here married, yeah.

 

CLARE:Now, your mother married in Newfoundland.

 

DAD:Yeah.

 

CLARE:Your father came here ...

 

DAD:Here.  [Boston]

 

CLARE:And, was here for a year.

 

DAD:Yeah, that’s right. 

 

CLARE:And, Matt was born in Newfoundland  [my Dad’s brother Uncle Matt].

 

DAD:Newfoundland, and then ...

 

BRO. JIM:Uncle Matt was born in Newfoundland?

 

CLARE:He never can be president of the United States.

 

BRO. JIM: Are you serious?

 

CLARE:Sure, that’s what Paul Dever always used to tell him when he was governor.  [You can’t be president of the U.S. if you were born in a foreign country, example Arnold Schwarzenegger.]

 

BRO. JIM: That he was born in Newfoundland not native born?

 

DAD:My father ...

 

CLARE:His father came up to ...

 

DAD:To find a house and a job.

 

CLARE:A job.  And, his mother remained in Newfoundland with Matt.  Matt was born in Newfoundland and, uh, Paul Dever, who was governor of Massachusetts then started a law practice with young, you know, with Matt at 40 Court Street [Boston].  He always used to kid him saying, you can never be president of the United States.

 

BRO. JIM: And, they came to Roxbury – your father got a job – do you know what your father got a job as right after he came?

 

DAD:I – as I say, I don’t remember.

 

CLARE:Kathleen will know.

 

DAD:I, I know – perhaps – I was about a year old.

 

CLARE:But, you were born here?  In Roxbury.

 

DAD:I was born ...

 

CLARE:And, baptized in Roxbury.

 

DAD:Yeah, I was baptized in St. Patrick’s [Church] in Roxbury.

 

CLARE:And, Kathleen was born here, wasn’t she?

 

DAD:Yeah, yeah.  But, uh, I came to Charlestown when I was about a year old and at that time, he [my grandfather James McGuire] was working – now whether we moved to Charlestown because he got a job on the Boston and Maine Railroad or not ...

 

CLARE:A long time ago ...

 

DAD:He must’ve been – no, I think he was working on the railroad because in 1922 – ’22 is the year of – the year the strike was 1922 and he was 27 years [ duration of years working ] working on the railroad.

 

CLARE:[talking over – inaudible]

 

BRO. JIM:How many years?

 

DAD:Twenty-seven years when he went out on strike.  [James P. McGuire, my father’s father, had a 27 year career on the railroad.] So, that would make him about, uh ...

 

BRO. JIM:So, you were – you were 20 – in 1921 ...

 

DAD:1903, I was, uh, 1903 [born], I’d be 19 years old.

 

BRO. JIM: Yeah.

 

DAD:19 years old.  I went out on strike myself as a matter of fact.

 

BRO. JIM: You were working on the railroad, too?

 

DAD:I just started to work on Thursday, they went on strike on Friday.  It was during the summer.

 

MATT:Was the railroad predominantly Irish?

 

DAD:The railroad was predominantly Irish, at that time, but it became ...

 

CLARE:There was nothing else.  [Meaning the people of Irish descent couldn’t get jobs anywhere else.]

 

BRO. JIM: Your father also worked on the railroad.

 

CLARE:Yeah, but my father [Edward Connors] worked on the railroad in a different capacity.  When Jim’s father worked on the railroad [it was] as a car inspector.

 

MATT:Right.

 

CLARE:My father worked on the railway express, railway express had no Catholics.  Your cousin, Bill Barrett, was the first Catholic on the railway express and daddy [Edward Connors] was the second, uh, it was at the time “Irish need not apply” and, particularly “Catholics need not apply.”  But, both Bill Barrett and my father were from Troy, New York, not from the Boston area, but, uh, those people that inspected the cars and worked – see Jim’s father worked at the end of the street.

 

BRO. JIM:Not ...

 

MATT:He probably didn’t ride the railroad.

 

CLARE:No. 

 

BRO. JIM:Your father [Edward Connors] did.

 

CLARE:My father did.

 

DAD:In other words, my father [James McGuire] most likely moved to Charlestown so he’d be near those guys – there were no cars, you know, you’d have to – to get from Roxbury to Charlestown, at that time, by streetcar, would take you about an hour, an hour going and an hour comin’ and they went to work. 

 

DAD:Streetcars drawn by horses or ...

 

BRO. JIM:Huh?  No, the streetcars, they were ...

 

BRO. JIM:When did streetcars start in Boston?

 

DAD:I mean I don’t know, as long as I can remember.

 

BRO. JIM: So ...

 

CLARE:Do you remember horse drawn cars?  You don’t.

 

DAD:Oh, horse drawn cars would be perhaps in the ‘90s.

 

CLARE:1890s?

 

DAD:1890s – because as long as I remember as a kid ...

 

CLARE:It was a trolley.

 

DAD:It was a trolley car.  Yeah.

 

BRO. JIM:Run by motor.

 

DAD:They were run by, uh, uh ...

 

BRO. JIM:Electricity?

 

DAD:Uh, electricity, yeah.

 

CLARE:But, Jim’s father went out [railroad] on a sympathy strike with the Pullman ... [porters for passenger railcars].

 

DAD:No, with the firemen and engineers.

 

CLARE:... and never got back.

 

DAD:Fireman and engineers went back.

 

CLARE:And, they, uh ...

 

DAD:And, they wouldn’t ...

 

CLARE:... the car inspectors never went back.

 

DAD:... never took ‘em back.

 

CLARE:So, [he] never ...

 

BRO. JIM:And, your father died when you were about 27?

 

DAD:28.

 

CLARE:This is your father’s 50th [50th anniversary of graduating Boston College so my Dad would have been 71 and I was 26].

 

[dead air space on tape]

 

BRO. JIM:What, what was your house like in Charlestown?

 

DAD:My house?  Three floors, three-decker.

 

BRO. JIM:Um, huh.  Did you have any yard?

 

DAD:Yard?

 

CLARE:And, a tree.

 

DAD:Yeah, had a tree there, believe it or not.

 

BRO. JIM: In Charlestown?

 

DAD:Yeah, a yard and a tree.

 

BRO. JIM:Was the yard ... [dead air space and then end of recording].

 

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(Beginning of MP3 audio included at the top of this page)

[Uncle Matthew F. McGuire (UNC. MATT); Brother James Patrick McGuire (BRO. JIM); Mother Clare McGuire (CLARE); Joshua C. McGuire (JOSHUA)]

 

BRO. JIM:If you recall – let’s go back again maybe to Charleston – what are the striking – are there any vignettes that you can remember from growing up that are particularly – remind you of the spirit of your relationship with Jim and the spirit of your relationship with Kathleen, the spirit of your relationship with your father, and the spirit of your relationship with any of their – is there any story you think would  symbolize – that sort of encapsulates your thoughts about things?

 

UNC. MATT:My only thought was that, uh ...

 

BRO. JIM:Let me give you an example, okay?  I can remember Eddie [Bro. Jim’s brother], okay, the story that I remember mostly about Eddie is, is the day that Laddie [the dog] sort of pulled him [Eddie] back by the seat of his pants into the yard as he was sort of tryin’ to get out and I can remember a – playing a basketball game with Billy Phalen and Eddie, and Eddie and I getting sort of into a fight.  And, those are really two striking memories about Eddie.  I can remember Matt, young Matt, uh, as a kid, um, uh, sort of playing with Peter Middleton down the street and [James P.D., brother] getting very angry with Peter Middleton about the way that he sort of treated Matt, and sort of him being sort of like a tag-along in terms of the things that I used to do and places I used to go.  Not really quite the same way as, uh, as Eddie, who was sort of there all the time, but, uh, more of the younger brother who wanted to do sort of special things with his big brothers.

 

UNC. MATT:Well, Kathleen went to work after high school not college, and, uh ...

 

BRO. JIM:Is there any reason for that?

 

UNC. MATT:No, she just – most girls didn’t in those days.

 

BRO. JIM:Um, huh.

 

UNC. MATT:And, she and Eleanor, and she went to work and she was a good secretary.  And, uh, she was pretty much of a home person in the sense that, uh, what she earned she always thought of the house and I don’t remember her going to school, actually, like her brother and I, in the latter years, in fact, she was – I would say, almost – not the main support, but certainly very important part – in support of the household.  And, uh, your brother [James P.] – I mean your father, if I remember about him, he always made more money than I did, when I was working around in these various places I told you I worked.  He was down food sheds emptying freight cars and, of course, price – wage – hourly wage had gone up at that time.  He worked in peace time, so he’d come home with 45-50 dollars a week.  He earned his way, no question.  He always had a good job and, uh, when he was teaching school, he’d go off – I told you the other day [inaudible] with some other school teachers and they disappeared – June, you wouldn’t hear from ‘em until September, probably once or twice during the summer.  And, that was not regarded as strange. [My father usually visited a lake and spent his time going to the beach, eating seafood, and playing cards; he usually went to Craigsville Beach on Cape Cod.] Now, my situation – I would call and tell ‘em where I was, but he wouldn’t do that, but we always knew where he was [  ??? ] and it wasn’t because of anything in the nature indvertancy about in the work, but, uh, essentially to avoid calling up, but I mean, uh, we would call him, but the telephone wasn’t used as promiscuously as it is today.  You went away and you come back – send a postcard.  So, he worked hard and he was as strong as nails, uh, just hard-fisted, tough, young man.  I remember when he had rheumatic fever.  Which I think was one of the progenitor of his final disposition and then went to his heart.

 

BRO. JIM:Yeah.

 

UNC. MATT:And, uh, he had a bad ear.

 

BRO. JIM:Maybe it was a progenitor of his toughness, too.

 

UNC. MATT:Yeah, when he, uh, he, uh – he was a very gentle man.  You understand, I wouldn’t say anything unkind about anybody. 

 

BRO. JIM:He didn’t seem to have a really close friend after Joe Minnihan that I know of.

 

UNC. MATT:Oh, yes, he, uh, he, uh, had close friends.

 

BRO. JIM:Who?

 

UNC. MATT:Well, he had the members of the Knights of Columbus, a lot of people, but they all over the years ...

 

BRO. JIM:They were all acquaintances, Matt, they were ...

 

UNC. MATT:Well, when you say – when you say a close friend – really how many close friends has any man got?

 

BRO. JIM:One or two.

 

UNC. MATT:One or two.  So, he was – in day school, we wouldn’t probably make good – or very seldom would make friends we lived in the city.  I was very fortunate, I had one close to  me, in fact, some in the next town, but if I lived in, in Charleston and somebody lived in West Roxbury, my chances of seeing that man often were very remote.

 

BRO. JIM:Well ...

 

UNC. MATT:I think day school is a very – even, even boarding and in the college there aren’t that many close friends.

 

BRO. JIM:You know what, I think that there are probably one or two men during your lifetime who you become particularly close to.  I think Pat Sullivan was that for you and probably Joe Minnihan was that for my father.  But, my father – with that friendship, I mean, I just don’t think he was ever willing to enter that level of intimacy with any men.

 

UNC. MATT:Maybe not.

 

BRO. JIM:Now, I know that, uh, you are esteemed – I’m not sure how many men you consider your intimate besides Pat Sullivan, I’m not sure ...

 

UNC. MATT:None, really.  You know, you don’t develop friends like that.

 

BRO. JIM:No.  Dad was with [his] [their] father when he died.  He said, you know ...

 

UNC. MATT:I was there, too.  He passed away September 17, 1928.

 

BRO. JIM:Did he say goodbye to you both?

 

UNC. MATT:He was unconscious.  He was unconscious two days.  Three days.  He had, uh, carcinoma of the sigmoid flexure of the colon. 

 

BRO. JIM:How was he when he died?  I mean, how was he before he died?

 

UNC. MATT:Well, the first inkling that I had that there was anything really seriously wrong with him was, uh, one night he was – we were – that was the time of the, uh, was the  27th was the Catholic Day of Redemption, Tom Dempsey fight, but the first I was – that was 1927, this was 1928 – the first inkling I had – the 27th – the first inkling I had anything – any – first idea that I had of anything seriously wrong with him, he complained of pain in the lower right quadrant and, uh, I know nothing about those things.  I thought he might have a – very vague – in a general way, he might have an appendix, what they call a – the appendix curled, but there might be an extended appendix and it might be – that type of thing you could feel over in your difficulty.  And, I found out afterwards that he was struck by a board – a plank – and then, of course, my later experience thinking of the ideology of cancer cases, I thought perhaps that might’ve been a blow of such a character that might set these so-called repressed cells in action and they try to catch up with the others and that might be the cause, cause of his situation.  But, that’s purely theory on my part and I think theory generally as far as medicine’s concerned.  But, anyway, uh, he took a chill [inaudible] and he really shook, it seemed, about five minutes and I watched him.  Couldn’t talk, I watched those – I was intensely watching the chills and we finally went to the doctor, Pat Adams, which had him checked out – checked out diverticulitis.  He said, but you better be prepared for something worse.  So, I went to Dr. Rowan and I went over with Dr. Rowan [inaudible] cancer, so, I said, my father won’t understand the terminology.  He said Mr. McGuire, you have a growth.  He said it’s malignant.  Then my father was so busy getting his clothes on that he didn’t catch the significance of the word malignant and didn’t understand the word malignant, he didn’t pay attention to it, so I – he said, will I tell him, the doctor said.  No, the doctor said, will I tell him – I said I can’t tell him, you oughta tell him, he came here to see you.  So, he told him and then inoperable – at that time.  So, he just went down hill after that.

 

BRO. JIM:How was he about dying?

 

UNC. MATT:I don’t think he knew he was dying at the time he died.  He was, he was unconscious for about three days.  He just went into a stupor and, and, what, what we knew about it at those times, I don’t know. 

 

BRO. JIM:Do, you think that your relationship with your mother [Catherine (Kelly) McGuire] – at least in terms of how I saw her as a kid growing up, was different than Jim’s [our father]?

 

UNC. MATT:No. 

 

BRO. JIM:You don’t.  You know, she was a very strong woman.

 

UNC. MATT:My mother was remarkable.  She never weighed over 100 pounds in her life, I don’t think.

 

BRO. JIM:But, I think she’d probably fight better than my father.

 

UNC. MATT:Probably what?

 

BRO. JIM:Fight better than my father.

 

UNC. MATT:She was very determined in the sense that, uh, once she had her mind made up, take an awful lot to swing her the other way.  But, she was very thoughtful for us.  [inaudible]  And, the other way around.

 

BRO. JIM:Did it take her a long while to get over his death?

 

UNC. MATT:She had to get over his death.  But, she, uh, she had great faith.  She was a religious woman and she knew this was just a passing show.  And, when she was gonna suffer  the pain of deprivation, she knew – it was her belief, at least – this wasn’t going to be final.  Someday they’d be together.  She used to say that.

 

BRO. JIM:So, she reached peace of her own?

 

UNC. MATT:What?

 

BRO. JIM:A peace.  Inner peace.

 

UNC. MATT:Yeah, an inner peace.  And, she didn’t – as a matter of fact, she wanted to die towards the end.

 

BRO. JIM:Yeah.

 

UNC. MATT:She didn’t wanta live.  She had no desire to live. 

 

BRO. JIM:I remember her passing quarters and nickels.  You got a – to us ...

 

UNC. MATT:Yeah.  She got a great kick outta you children.  In other words, I think you prolonged her life – living in that house prolonged her life.  [My grandmother lived upstairs with my Aunt Kathleen and her husband, Bill Conners.]

 

BRO. JIM:How did you meet Eleanor?

 

UNC. MATT:I met Eleanor – through her sister Mary, originally.  Then she came to work for us in the office, with all the lawyers – Paul Dever and myself.  [Paul Dever later became governor of Massachusetts.]

 

BRO. JIM:How did you know Mary?

 

UNC. MATT:I knew Mary [Eleanor’s sister] through – strangely enough, through, uh – Mary was very friendly with a sister of a classmate of mine.  She was a classmate of mine in high school.  The three of [them] were all good-looking girls, they were all blond – each one –and Mary knew the oldest girl who just died, and, uh, through the oldest girl, I met Mary, and then we were down to her house – their place down at Hough’s Neck [Quincy, Massachusetts].  That’s where we went when we were kids, everybody was down to her house, we were kids singing around the piano and when she got through school, Mary got a job for her.  She worked for a lawyer in Boston and tried to get a sister to work for a lawyer.

 

BRO. JIM:So, Eleanor worked for you while you were in Boston ...

 

UNC. MATT:Yeah.

 

BRO. JIM:[inaudible]

 

UNC. MATT:Yeah, yeah. 

 

BRO. JIM:How long did you know Eleanor before you got married?

 

UNC. MATT:Oh, hell, I didn’t get married until 1936 – nine years – ’27.

 

BRO. JIM:How old were you?

 

UNC. MATT:35.

 

BRO. JIM:How old was dad when he got married?  33?  35?

 

UNC. MATT:Wait a minute, 36.  Your father got married in ’39.

 

BRO. JIM:Three years after you did.

 

UNC. MATT:Yeah.

 

BRO. JIM:And, he’s what?  Six years younger than you?

 

UNC. MATT:Five.  So, 33.  He was 34. 

 

BRO. JIM:Young Irish [Americans of Irish descent] men married late those days?

 

UNC. MATT:You married late – it wasn’t a question of marrying late – it was a question of economy – economics.

 

BRO. JIM:They wouldn’t marry until they could support their family?

 

UNC. MATT:That’s right.  To practice law and practice medicine in those days, you really had to ...

 

BRO. JIM:Paul Dever then went on to become governor and you went on to ...

 

UNC. MATT:He became Attorney General of the state [Massachusetts].  First of all, he was a United States – he was, uh, in the U.S. House of Representatives and he got attorney general for three terms and governor two terms.

 

BRO. JIM:Did you meet any friends with him through the time that, uh ...

 

UNC. MATT:No.

 

BRO. JIM:Who were the men that you admired in your lifetime?  Besides my father.

 

UNC. MATT:Well, men like – Robert H. Jackson – Jackson – Justice of the Supreme Court.  Uh, Joseph Barry Keenan, originally from Rhode Island. He was the Assistant Attorney General who I succeeded in his post, in his place, once removed, and, uh, Arthur Healy, congressman from Sommerville, John W. McCormick [became Speaker of the U.S. House of Representatives and came to my grandmother’s wake] – a great man ...

 

BRO. JIM:Mother says she still sometimes, sometimes sees him at Jimmy’s Restaurant Harbor Side [a Boston Restaurant on the water].

 

UNC. MATT:Great man.  Great man.  Great product of the American system.  Come from Norway.  And, uh, Cardinal O’Boyle – Patrick Cardinal O’Boyle. 

 

[children in background]

 

[conversation with children]

 

JOSHUA C.

McGUIRE:How is it?  How many is it?

 

UNC. MATT:Looks to me like six. 

 

JOSHUA:How many is this?

 

UNC. MATT:Ten.  I got a little story for you. 

 

JOSHUA:What?

 

UNC. MATT:A little boy by the name of Joshua McGuire [smiling tone].

 

JOSHUA:Okay, tell me.

 

UNC. MATT:Ran down the street with his pants on fire.  He went to the doctor’s office ...

 

CHILD:[inaudible]

 

UNC. MATT:... now wait a minute, wait a minute, wait minute – the little man by the name of Joshua McGuire ran down the street with his pants on fire.  He ran with – he thought he was gonna die – he ran to the doctor with a great deal of fright, the doctor said, you’re end’s in sight.  You get it?

 

DONNA:

McGUIRE:I do.

 

JOSHUA:[screaming]

 

BRO. JIM:I don’t think he got it.

 

UNC. MATT:You get it?

 

BRO. JIM:Your end’s in sight?

 

UNC. MATT:Yeah, he ran down the street with his pants on fire.

 

BRO. JIM:Right.

 

UNC. MATT:Speaking of poetry – I wrote these lines and I think they’re pretty good.  And, I’m gonna say that I’m looking back on them over the years.

 

BRO. JIM:Yeah.

 

UNC. MATT:And, uh ...

 

ELEANOR

McGUIRE:[Uncle Matt’s wife}  Is the interview over?

 

BRO. JIM:No, it’s continuing.  You can be part of it.

 

UNC. MATT:This is about the Friendly Sons.  The Friendly Sons of St. Patrick.  Do you know who the Friendly Sons are?

 

BRO. JIM:The Sons of Ireland?

 

UNC. MATT:The Sons of St. Patrick.

 

BRO. JIM:St. Patrick. 

 

UNC. MATT:[inaudible] and the lines were these.  Raise the festive cup once more, above the  blessed board, [lots of background chatter] pledge the [inaudible] truth once more fabled groom,          hail to God and country, to all, to all that we hold true, to all that’s good and true, and a hail – hail to God and country to all that’s good and true, and hail to all that we hold dear, a hail to me and you, a hail to freemen everywhere, nothing else remains, and Irish hearts and outreached pulse [inaudible] and lies in chains, and last a hail to Patrick [inaudible] and the mighty great God [lots of child noise] [inaudible]. Like that?

 

BRO. JIM:I like that.  Especially about the pulse.

 

UNC. MATT:About the what?

 

BRO. JIM:About the pulse.

 

UNC. MATT:About the what?

 

BRO. JIM:Pulse.

 

UNC. MATT:Yeah.  Hush and awesome silence does the tinkle of a bell, the God mankind is crucified and comes down from man dwell what an awful task for God did spare the                    love for man and God’s love for dear.  Like that?

 

BRO. JIM:I like that.

 

UNC. MATT:They are hosting, they are hosting the [inaudible].  The battle flags are gleaming and the spectral shadows pale.  And the sodden ranks of time they come – shrouded with ranks of time they come from every sodden plain like hosts of shrouded [inaudible] looking for [inaudible] but, there’s a kind of rangers, the swinging [inaudible] of Dublin, with green flags on the wind.  The men who follow them and those who die were fierce.  Attention is in their bearing and [inaudible] they’re hosting to the dawn which thank God lasted nigh when the free flag of old Erin [Ireland] shall greet the morning sky.  All the [inaudible]  popes of ages, all the shadows, all the tears, we hold them now in glory on the banners of the years.   Lo the clouds are passing [inaudible].

 

BRO. JIM:You’re very proud of being an Irishman?

 

UNC. MATT:Well, you gotta be proud of your ethnic background.  You can’t say you’re a rock or a  piece of uranium in the ground – it’s part of what I am.  Yeah.  It happens to be my difficulty nobody else’s.

 

BRO. JIM:I’m not sure  that’s typical.

 

UNC. MATT:Well, a lot of people – I’m an American, of course, but I mean, I, I’m an American of Irish extraction.  We got to do a little more than in your time.

 

BRO. JIM:I think that’s true. 

 

UNC. MATT:You think that’s true?

 

BRO. JIM:I think that’s true.

 

UNC. MATT:In other words, I can remember in the papers in Boston when I was a boy – “no Irishmen apply” – I remember, I’ve seen it myself.  “No Irish Need apply” [NINA].  I saw that.

 

BRO. JIM:So, you understand prejudice?

 

UNC. MATT:I understand prejudice.  I think I can cope with it.  And, a man can’t help the color of his skin either.

 

BRO. JIM:What, what did you – what did you think in terms of careers and, and directions that, uh, your nephews were gonna go?

 

UNC. MATT:You can’t tell.  You throw things in the way.  Be yourself.  They find their own – give them opportunities, if they don’t get drunk, don’t raise hell, make good marriages ... they’ll be all right. May not be millionaires, but you live a full life and happy – when the time comes to shovel off, shovel off like a gentleman and I hope with the necessary prerequisites the Roman Church [the Roman Catholic faith], with a valid passport, validly signed.  So that concludes my memories of today.  You want to capitalize on that.

 

[background conversation]

 

BRO. JIM:Are there any special things about my father that you remember?

 

UNC. MATT:Just what I told you. 

 

BRO. JIM:Are there any incidents?  You talked about – talked about one about the mouse and ...

 

UNC. MATT:What?

 

BRO. JIM:... the paper, and the shoe?

 

UNC. MATT:You know, he [Matt’s brother, our father] was always full of, uh, that type of, uh, activity.  He was a great punner.  Not only in words, but with action.  I’d say that he was a, a troubadour, is what I’d like to say.  Took it as grateful for what he had of it and not ashamed to lay it down.  And, I don’t think your father sorry to go, except  to leave you.  I say you and the [inaudible]. 

 

BRO. JIM:Well, he said, I’m ready, he wrote it – he wrote it down, he said I’m ready.  On a piece of paper ...

 

UNC. MATT:He was a man of simple faith.  He always reminded me of those lines – kind hearts are [inaudible] a simple faith are [inaudible].

 

BRO. JIM:He had a singular faith, I think that he was really at peace with himself.

 

UNC. MATT:Well, peace with yourself and peace with the world, God Almighty.

 

BRO. JIM:Yeah.

 

UNC. MATT: And I concluded all you have to do is the best you can which you have.

 

BRO. JIM:Dad?

 

UNC. MATT:Yes.

 

BRO. JIM:Then?

 

UNC. MATT:Yeah, and  someone like Harry Truman – Southern Baptist – suggested this epitaph, said, here lies Harry Truman, he did his damnedest.  Always mention that [inaudible], man who died in the early west, here lies so and so, he did his damnedest.  You do your damnedest  when [inaudible].

 

BRO. JIM:You’re right.  Shall we go outside?