The Irish in me…
During our childhood, my mother, Alberta LeGendre, spent a lot of time keeping her 2 daughters far away from the Irish part of our heritage (with the exception of Aunt Mary). Mom’s family might’ve been a bit dysfunctional, but compared to my dad’s side of the family they were veritable angels.
Since it’s nearing St. Patrick’s Day, I’ll write a bit about the history of a side of the family known for it’s boxers (and I’m not talking about the shorts), it’s drinkers, and a childhood I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy.
What I write below is almost word-for-word from my mother’s memoirs, written on November 10, 1989.
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FORWARD
Robert Louis (Bob) Dempsey Jr. and his sister, Mary Dempsey Ziegler, never agreed on the year they left the St Joseph Orphanage, Cincinnati, Oh.
Bob always insisted that he was fourteen years old when they went down to Lake Worth, Fl. — which would have to be sometime in 1924 or 1925. Bob was born April 3, 1910.
According to Bob’s Army Records: He left school, in Lake Worth, FL, in 1926 and was in the fifth grade.
Mary, born April 21, 1912, says that she was eleven years old when they went down to Lake Worth, FL. from the orphanage — which would have been sometime in 1923.
I’m inclined to believe that they were released from the orphanage in late 1924 or early 1925.
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HOW WE MET
When I was a teenager, schools limited the choice of vocations for girls. Everything was for boy’s only; with the exception of cooking, sewing, bookkeeping, and stenographic courses. (My preferences were architectural and mechanical drawing).
In the 9th grade, I signed up for the stenographic course because I disliked cooking; Mother had taught me sewing; I wasn’t interested in bookkeeping; and I didn’t know what the stenographic course was other than an opportunity to learn typing.
I enjoyed typing — although never a speed demon. Shorthand was different. The harder I tried to learn shorthand the more confusing it became. Nevertheless, I managed to skim through the Little Rock Central High School and graduated in two and a half years (January, 1932), in the middle of the “great depression”. Jobs were scarce for well qualified people. I was not qualified for any type of office work. Dad, a steam and electrical engineer, repaired an old typewriter, he had found; which gave me an opportunity to continue practicing, and hopes of eventually getting a job.
In 1936, I got a job as a typist with the Farm Security Administration, Little Rock, Ar. The salary was $85.00 a month for women and $105.00 a month for men, all doing the same work. Nevertheless, I felt rich.
Late 1940, I received offers from the Justice Department and the Social Security Administration, to work in Washington, DC. Instead, I went to Phoenix, Arizona, to look for work.
I was one of the first four civilians hired to work in the newly activated Army Air Base Advance Flying School; 89th Base Headquarters Building, Williams Field, Chandler, Arizona, as a clerk in Central Files. The entire field was under construction and each morning and evening we had to drive miles along the deep, dusty ruts of trails winding in and out through the sagebrush, between the field headquarters and Higley, Arizona.
1942 April 16, our first large shipment of troops — about 200 enlisted men and officers — arrived from Jefferson Barracks, Mo. The housing facilities were still in the building stage; and the men were temporarily quartered in tents, on the hot, sun baked, dusty field. The night a severe sant storm blew in, followed by a heavy rain storm. (first dust storm ever experienced by many of the new GIs, and their initiation to Williams Field.)
Several weeks later, I took some papers into the Message Center for delivery. The Sergeant -in-charge yelled across the room, “Alberta here’s the man who says he is going to marry you!” Shocked? I had never seen the fellow before. He was about 5’8″, 190 lbs, wearing army fatigues belted in the middle, with a trench helmet on his head, covering half of his face. I turned around and walked out. That was my introduction to Robert L. Dempsey Jr.
A month later, Winni, a friend, and I ran into Robert Dempsey and his enlisted friend, Eddie, at the Tempe swimming pool. After playing in the water for awhile, we decided to go to a Mexican taco place in South Phoenix. We ordered hte hot tacos to take out and drove over to the city park for a picnic. Bob and Eddie had never eaten tacos before. Winni and I enjoyed watching their reactions.
That was the beginning of the romance between Robert L. (Bob) Dempsey and Alberta LeGendre. He asked me to marry him on our second date. I didn’t take him seriously, because I had recently turned down two similar requests. They were both nice clean-cut young men, but I was skeptical of their sincerity. I suspected my car was the real attraction.
Bob was the most persistent. We were married in Prescott, Az., April 8, 1943. We were direct opposites in every way, shape, and form. Bob and I took the middle road and relied upon the best personality traits in each other. Thus, through thick and thin, we were able to enjoy the benefits, pleasures, and peacefulness of an ideal marriage for forty-one years and ten months. He passed away very peacefully in his sleep sometime during the early Sunday morning of February 3, 1985.
Bob idolized his immediate family, but had little, if any communication with his other relatives. Those we met, we never saw more than once or twice, with the exception of his sister. (Their constant bragging irritated him.)
Therefore, my information and knowledge of Bob’s life before we met is limited to bits and snatches of stories he would occasionally volunteer to tell me regarding the Dempsey Family and his childhood. Most of the time he would blank those memories out of his mind.
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How much of the following is actual facts or my interpretation of the facts will be hard to determine:
William -?- Curry, drowned. Grandfather on mother’s side of the family. He had married Caroline Palitier (French d:1939) Their children were
Johnny, Vera, Mary Ellen, and James.
His maternal grandmother later married a man by the name of Edgar North and they had two children
Lula and Milton
William Asbury Dempsey, Sr., grandfather on Bob’s father’s side, was working in a Georgia County sheriff’s office when he was shot and killed in the line of duty. He married Victoria Woods (Dutch). Their children were
Lela, Margaret, Jack, William Jr., Robert Louis, and William Esther (Aunt BIll)
After Willam Asbury Dempsey, Sr.’s death, she married ____?_____ Foley. They had 2 children
Catherine Lee (Delene) and Mary (Gussie)
Robert Louis Dempsey Sr., Bob’s father, was about 5′ 6″ tall and had a slender built. Uneducated, as far as schooling was concerned, but had the ability to master many trades. He was kind, reserved, and had a likable personality when sober. Alcohol was his downfall. He was fighting mean and uncontrollable when drunk. (I am inclined to believe that frustration was the real culprit.)
Mary Ellen Curry Dempsey, Bob’s mother, was about 5′ 10″ tall and had a large heavy frame. Bob adored his mother, and had fond memories of sitting on her lap while she combed his curly blond hair into long curls. Bob was eight years old, and his world fell apart, when she died in Boston, Ma., during the 1918 flu epidemic. She was five months pregnant. So many were dying at that time, no one was ever able to learn where she was buried.
Bob was about nine years old when he, his sister and two brothers were placed in the St Joseph Orphanage, Hamilton, Ohio, where they remained for approximately five years. (I assumed that since the family was always moving from one place to another, Bob never had an opportunity to attend school before entering the orphanage. Thus, he was much older than the other children in his first grade class.)
By nature, he was timid, self-conscious, and apparently ill at ease in the surroundings. Some of the children were mischievous when the nuns turned their backs. If Bob was in the area, it seemed that he was automatically blamed, and punished for the incident.
The nuns’ favorite punishment was paddling, hitting him across his hands and knuckles with a ruler, depriving him of treats allowed the other children. Consequently, his nervous system was often in a state of shock and he frequently wet the bed, thus, receiving additional punishment and humiliation from the nuns.
There were nights when he went to bed hungry. After everyone else was asleep, he would slip down the stairs to the kitchen and swipe bread to eat. He ran away from the orphanage three times, but relatives always returned him to the orphanage.
After the nuns discovered Bob could sing, he was assigned to the church’s boys choir. He enjoyed the fact that the choir boys were taken out each Sunday for a special dinner. Nevertheless, he balked when the nuns tried to make him sing a solo.
About 1925: The children were removed from the orphanage by their father. He took them down to Lake Worth, Fl., where he and their grandmother (Grandma North) were living.
1926: Bob’s father ended his public school education. His fifth grade teacher, Mrs White, would stay after school to help him with his lessons. It was winter time and he was attending school barefooted. She took him to a store and bought a pair of new shoes for him. He was very proud of his new shoes and sincerely appreciated the teacher’s kindness.
Later, when Robert Senior saw the shoes, he went into a rage and stormed into the school building with a butcher knife threatening to kill Mrs White. He didn’t want her or anyone else meddling into his affairs. He could take care of his children and didn’t need her charity. I don’t know if Mrs White was fired or she just left town.
Bob never returned to school. He delivered papers caddied at the golf course, worked at odd jobs around Lake Worth, and fished (Sad, because he really had a brilliant mind, but had been so brow-beaten, intimidated, and ridiculed by family members and others that he just drifted along, keeping his thoughts and opinions to himself.)
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I have to note: In my mothers usual understated way, she skimmed over a truth that haunted Dad for his entire life: His maternal grandmother and his father were in a relationship that filled him with such shame, he blushed when trying to explain it to me. By today’s standards of reality TV, people would say, “So what?” In 1925, Hester Prynne would’ve seemed a saint in comparison.
Next: Untapped potential, and how to cope with a Jekyll and Hyde father.
A sweet and practical courtship. Sounds like a miserable place in Arizona though. Grandmother/grandson dalliance? Oo la la.
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They filled each other’s empty…and it worked for them. 🙂
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That was really interesting. Those World War and Depression times were very hard on people. Most people don’t realize that the Greatest Generation suffered the highest percent of mental illness than any other generation.
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I’m often skeptical of the definition of mental illness. Thyroid conditions can mimic bi-polar affective disorder, depression or mania and many people are misdiagnosed. Then there is the effect of being an honest, loving person thrust into war where the horror of what you have to do (and what you’ve seen) haunts you. I’m not convinced that the people who are deciding who is/isn’t sane are entirely sane themselves. 🙂
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Yes, though PTSD is more associated with the Vietnam War, it existed though unknown in the Greatest Generation as well. It was not only the war, but the devastating homelessness due to poverty that increased their percentage of mental illness.
As to the rest of your comment, I have found there are people who use mental illness as the new abuse excuse, and unfortunately some of those advocating for them may be counselors. Anyway, I thought your post very interesting. Thanks 🙂
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I certainly agree with your assessment of abuse excuse. Glad to have such a deep virtual conversation with you. 🙂
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I’m so nosy. I love that you are back writing out the family history. Your mother left you a wonderful gift by noting your families history.
I’m afraid no one chose to even attempt recording family history for our family. They probably knew our hair would catch on fire and the left over ashes from the spontaneous combustion wouldn’t be worthy of broom or dustpan. Shucks, because I really would enjoy knowing a few things.
Keep posting away. I love the journey.
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People have the stereotype of the “Happy Irish Drunk” and a nostalgia for the “good old days.” There are problems no matter which generation you come from. What fascinates me is that people do what we do in every era–and it amazes me that we’ve arrived at this level of technology given our vices. 🙂
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I would see both of my parents pass out each night. After an evening of throwing fowl language and material objects they would finally give out. The next morning both of them showered and dressed for work. Usually my mother was sporting fresh bruises and every-now-and-then, a black eye.
Each evening the beer and the whiskey flowed freely again.
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Your story isn’t as unusual as it should be. I’ve found very few people who had an idyllic childhood. It’s such a shame.
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I’m guessing “shocll building” is “school building.”
It’s lovely to come across posts with history to understand the world a little better. Thanks.
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Thanks for catching that. I didn’t see the red line under it indicating a misspelling, nor did I catch it when I used my text reader to listen to it. 🙂
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Call me please 229-460-7698 name is Nancy carlsen I think we’re related at least I see some of my family in your story and I’d love to get more information cause my family died when I was young and never dreamed I’d hear stories from anyone about them until now and I am blowed away friend this is a huge blessing please please call me…thanks…I myself want to write a book and could use tips and you may be interested in the subject’s not from this world and all true stories of my life!!! I need your help please…it’d be worth it to you I promise!!!
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Hi, Nancy. I sent you an email. 🙂
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Hi this is nancy I sent u a comment back in 2016 and happened to come across your articles again today. I c u have added much more about family and I thank you…I never dreamed I’d learn about them. They were so old when I came in to the pic. I don’t know if u recall from last message but my daddy was dennis curry and my grandmother was your aunt Bill and I’m sorry for their behaviors I read about it really dug deep in me. Because of you I now know both my great grandparents full names. I was named after Victoria woods and so is my daughter it’s our middle name. I’m very glad to know Carolines last name now also I only knew her as Carrie curry she was my pops momma and in a private message I can tell u what I’ve been told of her that I’m not so sure is accurate my mom hasn’t told me correct info for some reason…insanity runs deep in both sides of my family and I’m here to heal DNA and break cycles of abuse but is difficult cause I’m trying to overcome my past traumas and it is grueling…I was left here when daddy died with an alcoholic narcissistic momma that has confused me more than anything so any info u have would be helpful. Please tell me more!! Me and Bob led similar lives my world crashed down when I was 8 when daddy I adored passed away and it’s been a nightmare ever since until the past 4 years things ate starting to improve with weekly therapy…I want to honor my lineage and give light where there has been none. I deserve and am worthy of love that’s been the missing link for so many generations now…my life purpose is to heal from the hell I’ve endured raising up to a higher consciousness to be remembered from here on out for generations to come. Thanks again for this info Its a huge blessing and gift money can’t buy….bless you greatly and please tell me more…maybe we can private message so I can ask questions you may have insights to…again Ty! May you be blessed+++
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I am happy to hear that I helped someone with the story of my family. Everything I wrote about was directly from mom’s extensive research about family, when computers were just starting out. It’s all under “Memorabilia” on my blog.
My parents tried hard to give my sister and I a normal family life, and I didn’t know what divorce was until I was in 7th grade. One of my friends was living with her mother and her parents were divorced. Both their family lives were rough, especially dad’s.
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