My Great-Great Grandmother Bridget Crimmins-Sullivan-Keaveney

Before I start, I have to tell a funny thing that happened.  I mentioned in my first post that I thought I was going crazy because I spent spare time walking through cemeteries looking for headstones of ancestors.  Well I have actually gotten worse.  I now walk through graveyards looking for headstones of perfect strangers, on behalf of perfect strangers.  Allow me to explain.  There is a website call findagrave.com, which contains photos of headstones in cemeteries throughout the country (maybe the world, I don't know), along with the photo is usually and short bio of the person buried there. - If you go to findagrave.com and do a name search for Thomas J and Claire Brady, you will find them there, along with uncle Ed Bergen and Aunt Kattie.  I did not put them there, nor did I take the photo.  Someone with more spare time than me did it.  Anyway, I signed up to be a volunteer photographer for the site (talk about spare time)  I will occasionally get an e-mail from the web site and they will ask me to go to a cemetery within 5 miles and take a photo for someone.  So I get an e-mail from findagrave.com asking me to take a picture of a headstone in Hamilton Cemetery in Neptune.  So I am trying to be green and not waste paper and ink, so I write down the name of the woman and the phone number for the cemetery, intending to call them and ask where the woman is buried.  I stick the slip of paper in my pocket and while in the kitchen, the slip of paper with a woman's name and a phone number falls out of my pocket onto the floor.  Katrina picks up the paper and starts reading the woman's name and phone number.  Now any other wife might become suspicious, but Katrina knows me better than that.  She looks at me and says "I don't think I have to worry about her, she's probably been dead for some time now".  Spoken like the perfect wife for a true genealogy nut.

Now I want to talk about my Great Great Grandmother on my mother's side.  Most of the information that I have found, was through the Mormon Church web site: FamilySearch.org. and one of my now famous trips to a cemetery, this one was Holy Name Cemetery, 823 Westside Ave. Jersey City, with my friend and fellow ghoul, George Adams.  FamilySearch.org is a free web site put out by the Mormon Church, it has alot of Church Records, Federal Census Records and Military records, and the best part is that you don't have to  be a member of the Mormon Church to use it.  It is actually the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.  Some images are available on line, but most are on microfilm, that can be ordered from any Family History Center, the closest one to me is in Eatontown.

In the documents that I found, Crimmins is spelled in various ways: Crimmins, Crimmens, Cremons, just to name a few. Bridget Crimmons was born in County Kerry, Ireland in 1846 or 1847 to Pat Crimmins and Johanna Lanahan, she has a brother William and a sister Ellen that I know of.  She immigrates to the US in about 1864 (during the American Civil War), maybe with William and Ellen and I do not know if her parents came over or not. 

The first record I found is her marriage on 10/05/1865 to Dennis Sullivan, and they have a daughter, Annie, in 1867. (She is my Great Grandmother - she marries William Joseph "Pop" Bergen in 1887)  My mother always said her name was Johanna, but every record I find (including her headstone) says Annie.  Anyway on 10/08/1867, Dennis Sullivan dies in Jersey City.  The record says that he was a butcher by trade and died of Heart disease (perhaps this is why I have high cholesterol).  So now Bridget is a widow with an infant daughter - what to do?

Well, somewhere between Oct 1867 and 1871, apparently she married Thomas Keaveney (Keaveney is also found spelled in many different ways: Kaveny, Kaveney, Keavensy, Kevany, etc...)  Now I remember mom showing me a cemetery plot record from Holy Name Cemetery in Jersey City, and there were Keaveneys listed in the plot.  When I asked who the Keavenys were, she told me that "they are cousins".  I never knew how, and didn't ask, she never explained it either.  The plot she showed me was owned by Bridget Sullivan and Dennis Sullivan was buried there along with Annie Bergen, William Bergen, two Bergen infants, and a Keaveney infant.  Funny thing is that Bridget Sullivan owns the plot but is not buried there.  I did not find her grave until I visited the cemetery with my friend George on August 19, 2011.

Bridget and Thomas Keaveney had seven children during their marriage. Mary was born 12 Mar 1871 and lived to be 80, well beyond most of the Keaveneys, and she is buried with her husband Richard Powley in Holy Name Cemetery.  Bridget, Thomas and two of their children are buried in that same plot.  Next was Catherine Bridget, born 31 Jan 1873, she dies in 1884 at age 11.  Next child is John J, born 8 Nov 1875 and he is alive in the 1900 US Census in Jersey City, but that is all I know of him.  On 2 Mar 1877 Thomas Francis is born.  He marries in Lansing MI in 1913 and dies in the 1930's.  He is buried in MI somewhere.  Edward L. is born 10 Feb 1882, is listed in the 1900 US Census in Jersey City, and marries Elizabeth Mayhew and has several children.  In the 1910 US Census, he is listed in Jersey City and along with his wife and children is "Pop" Bergen, listed as 'brother-in-law" and our grandfather Edward L Bergen.  Agnes is born 16 Mar 1883 and dies three months later (She and Kate are buried with their parents in the cemetery plot for Powley and Keaveney).  The last child born is George on 29 Jun 1884.  Bridget dies on 7 Jul 1884 (I just noticed that this is the same year as 11 year old Kate).  Her cause of death is listed as puerfevral (?) peritonitis.  Teesh and Joan told me that it is a Latin term "puer" meaning child and peritonitis is some type of infection, so I guess she got some type of infection from childbirth and died from it.  Her son George dies on 17 Jul 1884.  I found his baptismal record that says he was baptized on 6 July 1884, the day before his mother died.

So when all is said and done, Bridget dies at age 38, during that short time she married twice and had a total of 8 children, only 5 of them survive her.  A pretty short, fertile life that had more than its share of heartache.

How I got started looking up the family kilt

     I have been researching the family tree for about seven or eight years now, and if you asked me what made me start, I would be hard pressed to tell you the single thing that turned me into an obsessive nut who thinks about genealogy all of the time.  It's like reading your favorite book that you just can't put down, but it never ends.  There is always one more person to look for.  I spend my spare time walking in cemeteries looking for headstones of dead relatives.  I get excited about a day off during the week that is not a holiday because the State Archives will be open and I can spend the day looking on microfilm for old records  for even older, deader relatives.  I'm really starting to scare myself.  God help anyone who happens to mention a person with a last name that I have happened upon somewhere in my research, they may find themselves in the middle of a story of an ancient relation and wonder what the heck he or she has to do with anything.  On the bright side, if any of my children or my siblings' children need to do a project on the Family Tree, I'm the Man.
     So, let me get back to how I started.  If I had to pick the thing that got me started, I would have to say that it was the fact that I knew very little about my grandfather Brady.  Dad never really spoke about him and fended off any questions about him by saying "He died when we were kids".  This started me looking for my grandfather and after finding him, it kind of inspired me to write an article (blog without a computer) about the story of my search.  In order to save time and get started, cause it is getting late, I will just copy and paste it here for all to read.

                                                              Finding my Grandfather

                                                             By

                                                   Thomas J. Brady

        Yes, you read it right, my grandfather.  Not second, third or fourth great grandfather back in colonial times or across the pond in Ireland before immigrating here. It took me two years to find my grandfather, right here in the U S of A, (in the twentieth century). 

            Growing up, I have no memory of any grandparents.  My maternal grandparents died when my mother was about sixteen years old, and her Aunt Alice raised her.  My father’s mother died was I was about four years old, and I have no memory of her.  I recall asking my father about his father and his reply was “Oh, he died when we were kids.” The only other information that I had from my father about his father was that he was an alcoholic.  This is what I had to start with years later.

            In 2004, I was a Police Detective with a love for American history and a yearning to know if my ancestors played any significant role in it.  By this time, my father was eighty-four years old and suffered from Alzheimer’s disease. He was unable to assist me.  The first thing I did was to begin to collect information from other family members, namely my sister Pat and my cousin Linda.  They had attempted to find grandpa in the early nineties with no success.  Pat and Linda gave me the information that they had, which amounted to my grandfather’s name, Thomas J Brady, born Sep 1893 in Scranton PA, to James E Brady and Madge Bradley, and that Madge had died in childbirth. Thomas was sent to live with his uncle, who was a doctor, and his wife in Scranton.  None of this information had been verified, it was all “family legend”.  The one concrete item that I was given was a letter from All Saints Catholic Church in Jersey City, NJ, which said that Thomas Brady, age 23, son of James E Brady and Madge Bradley married Marguerite O’Dea, age 21, daughter of Michael O’Dea and Mary Reilly on 18 Nov 1914.

            Other information that I had learned included that my father was born in 1920 in New York City, he had three brothers and one sister (all of whom had passed away by this time), and they had lived in Jersey City, NJ and Brooklyn, NY.  I did not have an exact birth date for either grandparent and I knew that my grandfather had not served in the military.  So I started searching on the Internet and got nowhere very quickly.  Next I went to the Family History Center in Eatontown, NJ and after several trips and checking through census records on Ancestry.com, I located the family living in Bensonhurst Brooklyn, NY in 1930.  I was amazed at how good I was at this.  I found Thomas, age 38, Marguerite, age 32, living with their children: James, Marguerite, Thomas, Francis, and Paul, plus Mary O’Dea age 72, (my great grandmother) and James Reilly age 72 (Mary’s widowed brother), all living on 19^th Ave. in Bensonhurst.   I immediately went home and told my wife and then my children, which actually turned out to be a great way to put them to sleep.  Next I called my sister and cousin to relay my good fortune.           

         Shortly after this find, my wife - knowing this wasn’t going to end anytime soon - bought me a software program to help me keep track of the mountain of information I had just received; as well as, my own personal subscription to Ancestry.com.  After several more months of searching this line, and other more successful lines of ancestry, I still had gotten no farther with finding my grandfather.  (I did, however, locate my wife’s third great grandfather, who was killed in the Mexican War and had a fort, and subsequently a city, named after him.)  It was at this point, that I decided that maybe I needed to do more than Internet research. I decided to take the one-hour drive to Jersey City, NJ from my home on the Jersey Shore.  I needed to take this show on the road.

            This turned out to be the best move I would make.  First I telephoned city hall and was told that they had marriage certificates dating back to 1913.  I got directions and began my journey back to my roots (I was actually born in Jersey City four years before my family immigrated to the shore).  Naturally, being a Police Officer, I got lost and had to call City Hall for directions, again making sure that the marriage license from 1914 was stored there, and was assured that it was.  I arrived at City Hall and filled out the requested form, indicating my relationship to the married parties, only to be informed by a rather hostile clerk that marriage records from 1914 were not stored there.  After several minutes of explaining to her that I had called twice before making this journey, and was told that they were stored here, she walked through the office asking who had told me that the records were in the building.  A nice gentleman informed her that he was the culprit and the records were in the basement.  In less than ten minutes he handed me a copy of the marriage license and the application filled out by the applicants.  So, nine dollars later, I stood in the lobby holding a marriage license that did not reveal a whole lot, but the application was a gold mine.  It told me that my grandfather’s birth date was 27 Aug 1891, and he resided on Whiton St in Jersey City.  Marguerite O’Dea was born 5 Nov 1893, and she lived on Pacific Ave in Jersey City.  I didn’t know it yet, but I was on the verge of a breakthrough.

            Once again, I went home and told my wife about my good fortune. I then relayed my discovery to my sister and cousin, who were very impressed with my investigative skills.  (I think that this was the most difficult case I had ever worked.)  Later that night, I thrilled my children to sleep once again, and then I sat at my computer. 

Now, armed with my grandfather’s birth date, I entered the data in my program and fired up ancestry.com.  It was like magic.  Within a short time, I located a World War I draft registration card in the name of Thomas J Brady, 9 ½ Grant Ave, Jersey City, NJ, date of birth 27 Aug 1891, he was a brakeman on the Central RR of NJ, married with one child, (my uncle Jim), and born in Gordon, PA.  You may be thinking: What happened to Scranton?  Let me tell you what I was thinking: Where the hell is Gordon, PA? 

According to epodunk.com:  Gordon in a borough in Schuylkill County, in the Pottsville metro area.  The borough is named for Judge David F Gordon, and the estimated population in 2003 was 759.  Sounds pretty swanky doesn’t it, named after a judge, probably has one of those population signs that can be changed as one family moves out and (hopefully) another family moves in. Better yet, it is located in the much sought after Pottsville metro area, and I think I know why.  Pottsville is the county seat, but the best part, it is the home of the Yuengling Brewery.  The oldest brewery in the USA, and guess whose family settled next to a brewery when they came to this country.  This could explain a lot.

            ROAD TRIP!!!  Next, I called my sister, Pat, who happens to lives just outside of Scranton, PA and I enlisted her to take the hour drive from her home to the “Pottsville metro area” to search for whatever Brady fossils and relics we could find.  But first, more Internet research.  My sister and cousin had told me that my grandfather’s parents were James E Brady and Madge Bradley, so I figured that they must have lived in Gordon at some point in time, in order to have my grandfather.  (All of that detective training came in handy) I found the website for Schuylkill County and they have a searchable database for marriage dockets from 1885 to May 1969.  I searched the database for James Brady and Madge Bradley and incredibly I found their license listed in book 4, page 5755.  I called the Schuylkill County courthouse and asked how to get a copy.  The man said, “Send me five bucks”.  I got the address, and before I hung up I asked him about the brewery.  He said “I’m looking out my window at it right now.”  WOW, God’s country.  Well, literally two days later, I had in my hand, a marriage license for my great grand parents, and all this without ever finding their son.

            The marriage license told me that James E Brady was born in Gordon PA, 15 Oct 1859 (exactly one hundred years to the day before my wife), and that he was a Fireman (I always assumed on the Railroad) married Madge E Bradley 10 Nov 1890 in Ashland PA in a ceremony by Francis P Coyle.  Madge was born 15 Nov 1867 in Schuylkill County.  This was all very interesting to me, but I had to get back to my original search for grandpa, so I started digging again. 

            The more cousins that I spoke to, the more the mystery of my grandfather deepened.  Even my mother knew nothing about him, but heard rumors that he did not die when my father was a kid.  It was rumored that he ran off with another woman and the family just wrote him off.  I guess it was easier to explain his absence by saying he was dead, that pretty much heads off any more bothersome questions from nosy neighbors, it worked on me pretty good.   I found old newspaper clippings from when my father and his brothers returned home from WWII and Korea.  Every article describes them as sons of Mrs. Marguerite Brady and “the late” Thomas Brady. 

I had never checked the Social Security Death Index, because I thought my grandfather died before he could have applied for Social Security.  While on Ancestry.com, I had an amazing revelation.  Right there before my very eyes was a Thomas J Brady with my grandfather’s date of birth, listed in the SSDI (that’s genealogy talk for Social Security Death Index, I’m really getting into this now).  He died in Carbondale, PA in Aug 1974.  YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!!!!  In August 1974, I had graduated high school and was preparing to go away to Seton Hall University in September.  This dude owes me some serious retro for birthdays (18 of them), Christmases, and high school graduation.

            But seriously, I had a living grandfather until I was eighteen years old and never knew it.  Well it was time for another phone call to my sister and cousin.  That night my kids were asleep in record time; I almost broke the five-minute mark.  Next were phone calls to my other brothers and sisters, my mother, and whatever cousins I could think of. (Whether they wanted to know or not).  Fellow employees, neighbors, my children’s friends, and complete strangers were regaled with my brilliance and investigative abilities.

            When I received his death certificate from the Pennsylvania State Department of Health, I found out that he is buried in Mother of Sorrows cemetery outside of Carbondale, PA.  As it turns out, my grandfather is buried ten minutes from my sister’s home.  Pat’s husband, Gary, knows the funeral director who buried him, so we later found out that my grandfather died in the Carbondale Nursing Home, and no one ever claimed the body.  He was buried in a plot owned by St. Patrick’s church, which they donated to him, and no one ever paid the funeral bill.  My sister and I visited the cemetery, and found that he is buried in an unmarked grave.

            Just to be sure I have the right Thomas J Brady (I found out that it is a pretty common name), I sent away to Social Security and requested a copy of the original application for a social security number.  It came back with one last surprise for me.  All my life I always thought that my name was Thomas John Brady III, because that was my father’s name and his father’s name, or so I thought.  He was Thomas J Brady, but the “J” on the application stands for James.  The more I think about it, my father was never very specific about his middle name either, there were times when he said that it may have been Michael.  Go figure.  So in the end, I found my grandfather, but I’m not so sure about my own name anymore.  You can’t make this stuff up.

 Well that's my first post, hope you enjoyed it.