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 19th 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.
No comments:
Post a Comment