Cousins found in friendships

Around 33 years ago, I was fortunate enough to be employed at the Catholic Schools Office in Newcastle in a new role.  The position was Parent Participation Coordinator, which had responsibility for parental involvement in the life of schools and more broadly in children's education.  Little did I know at the time that this position was fraught with resistance on the part of some of the Diocesan Principals and staff.

Some Principals, however, were very welcoming of the role and my presence in their schools and were more than willing to work with me to put in place strategies for the parents to play an active part in the education of their children.  On such Principal, Louise Outram, warmly welcomed me into her community, and a friendship was formed that lasted long after my time in Parent Participation. 

Then, some months ago, shortly before the Family Reunion, I published in this blog a bio of John Jennings - son of Thomas and Bridget- who was the caretaker of the Sydney Cricket Ground around the turn of the century. John was married to a woman called Casina, and as a couple, they did not have any children.

A short time later, I was contacted by Louise who tole me her grandmother had been called Casina. I knew it was not John's wife but I also knew that there were other children called Casina in the family. I aske Louise if she knew the name of Casina's father.  She said he was called Jeremiah, I knew then that there was a connection. It turns out that Louise's grandfather Jeremiah and my grandfather Michael were brothers. Making Louise and I third cousins. 

To say we were delighted was something of and understatement amd we both spent the next little while telling everyone we met about this marvellous connection.

 

GONE TOO SOON: THE SHORT LIVES OF THOMAS AND MARY JENNINGS 

Family History research is often filled with stories and tales of resilience and survival - but sometimes the records remind us of lives that ended far too early.  For Thomas and Bridget Jennings, times were tough and made more difficult by the grief of losing two children, Thomas and Mary, in infancy.

Their tiny lives, though brief, were part of a much larger story in colonial Australia.  In the 1860s, infant mortality was heartbreakingly common.  Across New  South Wales, as many as one in five babies did not survive their first year.  In Newcastle, where the family settled, a town shaped by coal mining, industry and poverty - the risk could have been considered as even greater. 

HARSH REALITIES OF THE TIME

Families like those of Thomas and Bridget lived in small, often damp cottages near mines and along the waterfront. Poor sanitation meant sewage ran through open drains, contaminating water supplies.  Outbreaks of diseases such as measles, whooping cough and diphtheria swept through early Newcastle. Gastrointestinal illnesses (often described on death certificates as 'summer diarrhoea) were especially deadly to infants. 

Feeding infants was another challenge.  If the mother was unwell or unable to breastfeed, alternatives such as cow's milk often spoiled in the summer heat, leading to sickness. Medical care was limited, with doctors expensive and hospitals not commonplace.  Research tells us that children were not routinely treated in the hospital, as its focus was on convicts and workers from the mining industry.  Many families turned to home remedies or simply prayed for survival.

THE HUMAN COST

Although high infant mortality ws tragically common, the death of a child was never treated lightly.  Parents grieved deeply, even if their faith communities encouraged them to accept such losses as "God's will." Some families coped by focusing on the children who survived, while others named later children after those they had lost.

For Thomas and Bridget, the loss of two children must have left a lasting mark, even as they continued to raise their five remaining children, Jeremiah, William, John, Patrick and Michael.

REMEMBERING THOMAS AND MARY

While we may never know the exact causes of Thomas and Mary's deaths, their brief lives may have been marked by simple burial entries.  But remembering them in the family story makes sure they will never be forgotten.

Their short presence reminds us of the fragility of life in colonial Newcastle, and the strength it took for families to build loss while continuing to build a new future for those that remained.

 

The Changing Nature of Language

Last TUESDAY, when I arrived at rehab, one of the therapists asked me where I had been on the previous Friday. My response was “I was playing hooky”. She looked at me blankly, and other young therapists responded that they had never heard of the expression. During an earlier session, I had mentioned I had chilblains - first time for many years - again, a look of puzzlement, as they were unheard of. This came up in my FACEBOOK feed this morning and really resonated with me.

Ever wonder about all of the sayings or words that seem to be lost as we grew older? Lets look at a few of these words…

Do you remember the word ‘Mergatroyd’? Spell checkers don’t even recognize that word. Our computers are confused… Heavens to Mergatroyd!

The other day a not-so-old lady said something to her son about driving a jalopy, and he looked at her quizzically and said “What the heck is a jalopy?” He never heard of the word jalopy!! She knew she was old….. but not that old.

Some old expressions that have become obsolete because of the march of technology. They include phrases such as “Don’t touch that dial,” “Carbon copy,” “You sound like a broken record” and “Hung out to dry.”

Remember when we had lots of ‘moxie’ and we’d put on our best ‘bib and tucker’ to’ straighten up and fly right’?

Heavens to Betsy! Gee whillikers! Jumping Jehoshaphat! Holy moley!

We were ‘in like Flynn’ and ‘living the life of Riley’’, and even a regular guy couldn’t accuse us of being a knucklehead, a nincompoop or a pill. Not for all the tea in China!

Way back, life used to be swell, but when’s the last time anything was swell?

Swell has gone the way of beehives, pageboys and the D.A.; of spats, knickers, fedoras, poodle skirts, saddle shoes and pedal pushers…

Oh, my aching back! Kilroy was here, but he isn’t anymore.

We wake up from what surely has been just a short nap, and before we can say, Well, I’ll be ‘a monkey’s uncle!’ Or, This is a ‘fine kettle of fish’! We discover that the words we grew up with have vanished.

Poof...go the words of our youth. The words have been left behind. We blink, and they’re gone.

Long gone are words and phrases like: Pshaw, The milkman did it. Hey! It’s your nickel. Don’t forget to pull the chain. Knee high to a grasshopper. Well, Fiddlesticks! Going like sixty. I’ll see you in the funny papers. Don’t take any wooden nickels. Wake up and smell the roses.

It seems that there are more of these lost words and expressions than Carter has liver pills. This is disturbing!

We of a certain age have been blessed to live in changeable times. For a child each new word is like a shiny toy, a toy that has no age.

We at the other end of the chronological arc have the advantage of remembering there are words that once did not exist and there were words that once strutted their hour upon the earthly stage and now are heard no more, except in our collective memory. It’s one of the greatest advantages of aging.

We are left to wonder where Superman will find a phone booth… But just consider that no one will ever have the opportunity again for such a great change in wording and phrases. We, at least most of us, are children of the fabulous 50’s. We have been given one of life’s most precious gifts…our memories…

I still call the fridge and ice-box from time to time. That’s what mama called it, so that’s what I call it.

The lost Words from our childhood are gone as fast as the buggy whip! Sad really! Well, I hope you are Hunky Dory after you read this and chuckle.

See ya later, alligator! Okey-Dokey… God bless you all.

Not my article but certainly my sentimants

UPDATE

Tomorrow will be 23 weeks since I had the revision on my hip replacement surgery. As you know, I was in the hospital for 10 weeks, home for 13.I am attending rehab therapy at Toronto Private twice a week. This consists of Physiotherapy and Hydrotherapy It is beneficial, but……..The diagnosis is damage to the sciatic nerve in my left leg, and what I have discovered is that it is impossible to mobilise without some heavy-duty equipment. I use a forearm support walker around the house and a wheelchair when I go anywhere. Going anywhere has been limited to a couple of visits to the shops, numerous doctor and therapy appointments, and the occasional social event. The specialist who did the surgery has me on strict hip precautions, meaning I cannot bend (limits dressing and showering activity), twist or stretch. The rationale for this is to try to prevent further dislocation of the joint ( which has dislocated once since this surgery). The next appointment with him is at the end of the month, and I am hoping he will relax this a little.
I do have much to be thankful for:-1. My Rehab specialist has been excellent in terms of her personal support and management. She tells me I must be patient, and the nerve regeneration is a slow process. I am more than grateful for her care and attention, but those who know me know that patience is not one of my strong points. The pain of the sciatic dysfunction, coupled with the Complex Regional Pain Syndrome, is compounding day-to-day management and is at times absolutely unbearable. 2. Hydrotherapy – getting in the pool and being able to mobilise is just amazing3. Home Care. We were granted a Level 3 (High Priority) Home Care Package. For this, I am grateful, as I don’t think we would have been able to cope otherwise.4. I don’t need to tell you how supportive and practical Terry has been during this time. Without his care, I don’t know where I would have been. 5. The wisdom of my youngest granddaughter. Miss Sophie asked me a couple of weeks ago why I was sad, and I told her it was because I could not walk or drive my car. She thought for a moment and said, “Don’t say you cannot walk, grandmother, you can walk, you just need to use the big walker”. She then said, “When you are in the car, you need to imagine you are a princess and the car is a limousine and Poppy is your chauffeur.”

Surgery

I wanted to provide an update on my recovery from a revision of knee replacement surgery.

Having any surgery when you have Complex Regional Pain Syndrome (CRPS) carries with it a risk of increased pain and the spread of symptoms. This risk has been lessened by good management by my pain management specialist, the orthopaedic surgeon and the anaesthetist. Coupled with the excellent care I received in ICU there appears to have been no spread. The CRPS pain I am experiencing at the moment could have occurred without having undergone surgery.

As you know since having my left hip replacement in January I dislocated this joint twice. Both times carrying out very innocuous movements. I was also having trouble with mobility (much pain resulting in being able to only walk very short distances) which I was blaming on the CRPS. At one point a wheelchair was suggested but I dismissed this without too much thought as I think that would have given me an easy out.

I am my own worst enemy in this regard as any ache or pain affecting the left side of my body gets blamed on CRPS.

When I mentioned the increased pain and instability in my knee to the orthopaedic surgeon he did not dismiss my comments and started an investigation. He found that there were some issues (read concerning issues)with the alignment of the original knee replacement which resulted in the CRPS thirteen years ago. This misalignment was causing quite serious instability making mobilising somewhat difficult (read very painful) and some sort of issue with my patella.

So approaching surgery given what I had experienced in the last 13 years raised a degree of trepidation and fear.

So back to day 9 and the exaggerated level of pain. What I am experiencing is the post-operative pain of knee replacement surgery......even though they call it revision it involves opening up the original site, removing some bits, realigning some bits, replacing some bits and putting in new bits. So the pain is expected but nowhere near as bad as I experienced when the original knee replacement was carried out. Whilst the pain is elevated today and I have needed double painkillers I am confident that it will settle once the swelling and stiffness subsides. I am doing physiotherapy-managed exercises bearing in mind the need to be aware of the possibility of impact on the hip joint.....a little complex the physio said. lol

In terms of increased stability of the joint, I think this has been successful and I don't feel that my knee is about to collapse when I am walking as it was 10 days ago. I am hoping that what the surgeon has done will prevent any further dislocations....only time will tell. He said to me the day after surgery "I have done enough to stabilise what was a tricky joint" my response was "I hope you have because I am not certain I will let you have another go" He did remind me that my right knee was replaced some 20 years ago and we would talk about this in the future. I am not sure of life the expectancy of a knee replacement. As Miss Sophie says "Grandmother you will have to just google that"

Yesterday I did a fair bit of walking - up and down the verandahs and perhaps I have overdone it a bit who knows. I even was thinking that I would go to Book Club on Monday......reassessed that thought today and we will see what tomorrow brings. I have an appointment with the orthopaedic surgeon's nurse tomorrow morning to have the wound checked and hopefully all the dressings removed.

I wanted to explain all this to those who have been following the posts to let you know:

1. Yes I am in pain which is a mixture of post-surgical and CRPS pain

2. The stability in my knee has improved greatly at this point - I am thinking that with the physio intervention, it can only get better.

3. It is not hurting as much to mobilise as it was pre-surgery even considering point number 1 and it is only day 9

4. I am receiving absolutely A1 gold standard care from Terry

Thanks for all the wishes of love and support

Cheers Anne

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 Patrick Jennings

Patrick Jennings was born in Pitt Row, Newcastle New South Wales on  July 29th 1867 and was baptised a short time later on 11th August 1867 at St Mary’s Roman Catholic Church Newcastle.

Patrick was the fifth son of Thomas and Bridget Jennings who had come to Newcastle aboard the Sirocco in 1864.  On the voyage, Thomas and Bridget were accompanied by their sons, Jeremiah (1858 - 1944), William(1860 – 1931) and John (1863 – 1911).  A fourth son Thomas was born when they arrived in the colony in 1865 but sadly did not survive infancy, passing away in 1866.  A sister Mary was born and died in 1869 and my great-grandfather Michael (1870-1943) completed the family.

Not much is known about Patrick’s childhood but it is known Thomas was arrested on many occasions and served custodial sentences for drunkenness but it would appear that he was always able to hold jobs as a labourer or a stone breaker.  At some time during his childhood, the family secured accommodation on Adamstown Commonage where we find Patrick at the time of his marriage.

Patrick married Annie Jane McNamara (1870 – 1959) on 10th December 1892 in the Roman Catholic Church at The Junction in Newcastle, New South Wales.     Annie was the daughter of Michael McNamara (1845 – 1905) and Mary Jane Brennan (1850 – 1883).  Together Patrick and Annie had 10 children.

John Patrick 1892 -1893

Mary Betrice 1894 - 1971 married Charles Nolan 1891 -1932

Cecil Bertram 1896 - 1987 married Rita M Collins 1894 - 1989

Katherine Ellen 1900 - 1975

Dorothy May 1901 - 1984 (worked as a housekeeper at the local presbytery for Father E McMahon)

Anastasia 1902 - 1902

Rita Ursula 1906 - 2001  

Iva Ursula 1913 - 1994  worked as a milliner: married John Bede Noel (Jack) Massey  

Patricia Joan 1915 - 1942 was a member of the order of Ursuline sisters - Mother Mary Edward.

It is reported in Newcastle Morning Herald and Miners’ Advocate on Thursday 15th May 1890 that Patrick took legal action against a man called James Flavey as it was alleged that Flavey having received 5 pound, one shilling and sixpence, from the Manager of Newcastle Coal Company, being wages due to Patrick and appropriating for his own use.  Flavey had been arrested on a warrant in Armidale.  Patrick withdrew the charges when it came before the court.   Of interest to note is that one of Patrick’s nephews, Frederick James Jennings 1881- 1971)  son of Jeremiah, married a woman called Anastasia Flavey, daughter of James Flavey.  Further research is necessary to prove or disprove this theory of connection.

In June 1900 Patrick met with a serious accident whilst working at the Newcastle Company pit. The newspaper report states that while working underground he tripped and fell heavily onto the socket end of a machine drill which entered the lower part of his body causing a terrible wound.  He was in the Royal Newcastle Hospital where he was very well cared for some weeks and unable to work for some time. To support Patrick and his family at this time a benefit concert was held with proceeds in excess of 30 pounds were handed over to Patrick (Newcastle Morning Herald and Miners Advocate, Monday 6th October 1900.

Newcastle Morning Herald and Miners Advocate Monday, March 4th 1907 provides a report of a fire in the home of Patrick and Annie to which the fire brigade attended and were able to bring the fire under control before any great damage was done. The cause of the fire was said to be caused by upsetting a lamp.

Patrick passed away at 10 Wallace Street, Hurlstone Park on 4th April 1940.  His death was reported in the Sydney Morning Herald, Newcastle Herald and Miners’ Advocate and the Catholic Press.  Annie passed away on 30/09/1959 at the same address

 THE GREAT CHEATING SCANDAL

When we were in Year 6 or perhaps it was Year 5 we were required to sit for an Intelligence Test.  Sister Regina was our teacher and she split the class up so we were not sitting anywhere near our friends or anywhere near our usual places.  

I had to sit near a boy whose I shall not identify other than to call him AL.  Now AL was a very strange kettle of fish and I would describe his demeanour and behaviour as very odd.   Looking back I suspect he was probably on the autism spectrum but that was never talked of back then.  He was averse to anyone looking at his work and would drape his entire arm around his book so no one could see what he was doing.  This was his strategy to prevent “copying”.

Anyway, when the results came I was called to the front of the room and asked in front of the entire class if I had cheated. A collective gasp went up from my classmates and of course, I replied “No Sister” because I had not cheated. She then called AL to the front and he was asked if I had copied his work.  He of course responded, “I don’t know Sister”.  I was kept in at lunchtime and Mum was summoned to a meeting with Sister. 

She told Mum that she suspected that I had copied off AL because my score was almost identical to his.  Mum said maybe AL had copied off Anne. Sister of course said this was not possible.  She told Mum if my score was accurate I was not using the gifts that God had given me and not using my intelligence appropriately in class.

That evening at home I was questioned by Dad. “Did you copy off AL?”. “No” I responded. I didn’t think to tell them about AL’s habit of covering his work to protect it from prying eyes but I convinced Mum and Dad that I had not cheated. 

The outcome of this was Mum had to take me into Hunter Street Newcastle to Latec House (before it fell into disrepair and was later resurrected into apartments) to see the vocational guidance counsellor to re-sit the test.  Mum had to leave me there and I was put into a room on my own and I redid the test.

My score on the second test was almost the same as the first time but a few points higher.  Sister was perplexed as she said my work in class was at best ordinary and with a score like that I should be working as well as the top students in the class.  She obviously did not take into account my penchant for daydreaming. She did tell Mum that if I did less talking and paid better attention then I would be able to improve my grades. Talking was the only thing that I ever got into trouble for at school and I must admit I did not learn the lesson easily as I was on the verandah with some regularity.

Again the injustice of this situation has been bought to the fore.  There was never any question that AL had copied my answers because he always came top of the class each week in our spelling and Mental Arithmetic. I suspect that he had a photographic memory and I often wonder what become of him.  Until I have written this story I have not thought about this kid since I was in Year 6.