Reflections After a Funeral

While Ginnie and I were driving home from Uncle George Minko’s funeral last Friday afternoon, we talked about how much we had enjoyed the visit. It occurred to me that talking about a funeral as being a joyful experience was as good an example of an oxymoron as one could find. Yes, of course there was sadness, funerals are somber affairs, we attend them mourn the dead and pay our respects to the family.

But funerals can also be a time to renew relationships with friends and family, meet new family members, and tell stories and more stories. When these events happen at a funeral, sadness seems to dissipate and joy emerges. Laughter replaces tears and you find yourself in the midst of a celebration. What an interesting human phenomenon!

That is how we felt, driving home through the rain last Friday afternoon—sad but joyful. Saddened by Uncle George’s passing but overjoyed to meet relatives we rarely see and some we met for the first time. I have not had much contact over the years with relatives on the maternal side of my family. The same is true for the McAdoo side of the family. Yet when events bring us together, we seem glad to see one another and usually depart promising to stay in touch—yet seldom do we keep these promises. Why?

I don’t have the answer to that disturbing question, but the elusive response has troubled me for many years. It seems to me the reasons are varied, family issues, personalities, interests, perhaps even indifference. However, when we gather, the barriers we have erected in the past tend to disappear and for a moment gates of opportunity to communicate open.

In the past two years, I have begun to turn my concern into action. I have done an extensive amount of research on my ancestors and related families and in the process have discovered many living relatives. The research is continuing and can be viewed at our ancestral website, http://www.tribalpages.com/tribes/jhmc1. The password is vpm. One way we can continue to strengthen our family relationships is to participate with me in continuing to build our family tree. There is much missing data and your input will add to our family history and knowledge.

I mentioned earlier that family gatherings are frequently occasions for storytelling. This certainly has been the case among the McAdoo’s. Stories about the McAdoo brothers, Jimmy, my dad and my Uncle Howard have become legend, so much so that I decided to write a book about my dad. Perhaps when it is published, opportunities will arise to strengthen our family relationships.

Last year we held our first family reunion. We had such a good time that we decided to meet again this year on August 19th. Hopefully, the reunion will grow into an annual event.

So, reflections on recent and past family gatherings have led to opportunities to communicate and get to better know one another. It continues to be a great joy for me and it can also be for you. Why not join the journey?

"Jimmy" Update

I have just completed writing the manuscript for the book about my dad. It was a demanding effort, but a wonderful experience. Now, begin the tasks of editing, proofreading, and publishing. I plan to include 20-25 pictures that I believe will add interest. I would like to share my concluding thoughts with you.

Afterword

The last time I saw him
he was stooped and puffy, moving
with slow deliberate care—
but he went for a ride in my MG Midget,
muttered a curse in my ear,
and kissed me with an exuberant joy
ageless
as the love which binds him to us
even now.

An excerpt from the poem, Jimmy, by William D. Ehrhart, Swarthmore ‘73
(The complete poem is in Chapter 4)

I have learned many things about my dad during the course of writing this book. Most of the discoveries have been about his coaching career and almost all of the input has come from his former swimmers at Swarthmore College. I have compared the comments I have received during the past year with letters and notes sent to Jimmy at the time of his retirement dinner in 1973. A number of swimmers wrote in 1973 and again recently. I am simply amazed at how similar each of their memories is of Jimmy, then and now, even after thirty-three years. I am also struck by comments about Jimmy’s ability to relate to swimmers on a personal level, his humor, and his inspiration which encouraged team spirit, loyalty, and individual accomplishment. I was particularly touched when I read these comments from Alden Bennett ’40. “I swam for him at Swarthmore during the winters of 1938-39 and 1939-40. I was certainly the worst 440-yard swimmer he had during that time, maybe during his whole coaching career. I didn't really deserve my nickname then of "a-point-a-meet Bennett". (Maybe they averaged in the 5 points I won (just once, by default) when the other team had no entry in the 440.)But, God bless him, he never gave up on me. Near the end of our first season together, he took me aside and said, "Alden, I think your problem is that you let yourself get too far behind too soon in the race." So we tried a new strategy for me at the next meet, - keeping up with the leaders. The 440 took 17 and 3/5 laps in Swarthmore's 25-yard pool. I stayed up with them for the first 12 laps and then had to quit and upchuck in the scuppers. Jimmy congratulated me as if I had won the race. What a wonderful guy! And how often I've thought of him when trying to encourage younger colleagues to get up to speed.”

Standing out among all of his accomplishments was Jimmy’s unique ability as a coach to provide the competitive and supportive environment in which both average and talented swimmers somehow became motivated to perform their best in competition. Season after season, from 1937-’38 to 1971-’72, the records show that his swimmers exceeded even their own expectations and capabilities. Don Cassidy ’75 recalled the locker room pep talk Jimmy gave before the first meet of the 1971-72 season against a powerful Johns Hopkins team. He had this to say, “Before the swim meet, Jimmy called us into the locker room for a Pep Talk. He told us that the Hopkins coach had called Jimmy the week before to find out what kind of team we had. Jimmy told the coach, "Well, you know how we always are. We have some of the old guys back and some new guys, but I'm sure that you don't have anything to worry about." Jimmy told us this with a characteristic twinkle in his eye and a grin on his face. He told us to "go out there and have fun." And not to worry about his Tall Tale, because Hopkins was so deep in talent that the best we could do was "give them a good scare." Just as we all finished chuckling about Jimmy's practical joke, he startled us by turning up the volume and saying, "Okay, boys, now go out there and knock their jocks off!!" Well, my heart pounded.” I believe creating that type of environment happens when a coach loves his job and the athletes he coaches – and they respond.

Jimmy understood that athletics was not the reason student athletes went to Swarthmore and he accepted that fact. Kevin Quigley ’74 summed it up very well when he wrote, “Jimmy was one of the most memorable individuals I met during my time at Swarthmore. Besides his great enthusiasm, I remember his unwavering and flexible support. As you probably know, for many of us swimming wasn’t the reason why we went to Swarthmore. So, seminars, labs, or other activities often took priority over practice (and sometimes meets!). That did not seem to faze Jimmy at all, which makes him a lot bigger man in my eyes than almost any other coach I’ve ever encountered. Jimmy wanted to work with any of us who showed up, when we could show up. He understood that swimming is just one of many things in life, and you would get back from it what you put into it.”

I think another contributing factor to Jimmy’s success was that he was an anomaly at Swarthmore. He was a street kid from Germantown with little formal education. He was a very heavy drinker and a hell-raiser. He had a difficult time earning a living as a coach, so it became a part-time endeavor. He resisted authority and marched to his own tune. In short, he was different and he was a character and he was a survivor. I think his swimmers soon learned that Jimmy was not like the other faculty and perhaps not like most other swimming coaches. Even with all his flaws, he was embraced by his teams and they performed for him to the best of their abilities. John Ridland ’53 described Jimmy at one of his most vulnerable moments in this excerpt from his poem, Jimmy McAdoo Swims Back Across the Styx. (The complete poem is in Chapter 4).

One fucked-up, faraway

Home-meet Saturday

You rolled in half-seas-over,

Tie cockeyed, eyes half-shut.

We could’ve had your butt

If we’d have raised a fuss,

But who’d throw that crap at you?

Potter and Snyder sat you

Down in the offstage office

To keep you out of hearing––

Spluttering lavish praise,

Abject apologies––

And ran the team themselves.

I think we even won,

Though if we didn’t––so?

I have also learned much about my McAdoo ancestors from the genealogy research I have been conducting. I have a clearer understanding of our heritage and it has helped me better appreciate my dad’s life. We McAdoo’s come from humble Irish roots. My great great grandfather, William McAdoo immigrated to Philadelphia about 1850 and worked as a laborer and later as a teamster. My great grandfather, James worked at the iron furnaces and in the quarries of the Great Chester Valley, and later as a farmer. My grandfather, Jim was a steamfitter. My dad, Jimmy made a living over the years as a clerk, a bartender, and a truck dispatcher, but he will always be remembered as a swimming coach.

I have learned that we do not have to be constrained by our background to be successful and that life is not necessarily about achieving material things or in the case of coaching, about wins and losses. My dad’s life has shown me that success can mean much more and it can be achieved in spite of our human frailties.


There are some who drift out in the deserts of doubt,
And some who in brutishness wallow;
There are others, I know, who in piety go
Because of a Heaven to follow.
But to labour with zest, and to give of your best,
For the sweetness and joy of the giving;
To help folks along with a hand and a song;
Why, there’s the real sunshine of living.

Carry on! Carry on!
Fight the good fight and true;
Believe in your mission, greet life with a cheer;
There’s big work to do, and that’s why you are here.
Carry on! Carry on!
Let the world be the better for you;
And at last when you die, let this be you cry;
Carry on, my soul! Carry on!

An excerpt from the poem, Carry On, by Robert Service

McAdoo Family Records at the First Presbyterian Church of Port Kennedy, PA

On 16 Mar 2006, I traveled to Philadelphia to visit the Presbyterian Historical Society (PHS).   My purpose was to research the records of the First Presbyterian Church of Port Kennedy, PA for family information.  Ever since discovering the graves of my Great Great Grandparents, William and Sarah McAdoo and my Great Grandparents, James and Elizabeth/Eliza McAdoo in the church cemetery, I have wanted to find out what information might be contained in the official church records.  

It was fascinating to review the original Session Minutes and records from 1845 to 1903, the period of greatest interest to me.  While I was not successful in learning about some key missing genealogy information about my ancestors, I did discover some new information.  A summary follows:

Great grandmother Eliza McAdoo was received into church membership by examination on January 9, 1889.  She was about 24 years old.

John McAdoo, William and Sarah’s son was received into membership on the same day.  He was about 18 years old.

Mary McAdoo, William and Sarah’s daughter was received into membership by examination on April 11, 1897.  She was about 21 years old.

Mrs Martha King joined the church on April 18, 1881 at the age of about 25.  She was William and Sarah’s eldest child.

William King, age 3 months, son of John and Martha King was baptized on October 8, 1881.

John S. King was admitted into membership on March 24, 1877.

Mary J. Bleecher was admitted to membership on March 22, 1882 and readmitted on January 9, 1889.  I suspect she may have been Eliza’s sister based on census data.

John McLean, age 3 1/2 and Abram, age 11 months, sons of Oram and Mary Bleecher were baptized.  It is possible McLean could have been a misspelling of McClain.  

There was an entry in the Session Minutes on January 13, 1901 that read, ”After church service Rev. Mr. Hoisington and Elder William A. Murtha met at the home of Miss Mary McAdoo who was very ill.  And after prayer and reading of the scriptures, the Lord’s Supper was administered to her with her own consent.  And after prayer we departed.”  Mary died January 26, 1901.

There was no information about William and Sarah being members of the church or the baptism of any of there children.  There was no mention of Great Grandfather James or his brothers William and Daniel being members.  Other than Eliza and Mary J. Bleecher, I found no mention of the McClain family.

Skeletons in the Family Closets

There are times in the search for my ancestors when I discover interesting or unusual facts. Two recent discoveries fall into that category.

The first discovery occurred while I was researching my Hinchliffe ancestors on my mother’s side of the family. My grandmother, Florence Hinchliffe Smith immigrated to Philadelphia from England in 1904 with her parents, Joseph and Eliza, and her brother William. The Hinchliffe’s had lived in West Riding of Yorkshire, an area populated with a great many Hinchliffes. I found Joseph’s parents, Wright Hinchliffe and Jane Roebuck as well as Wright’s parents, Benjamin and Susannah. They are my great great great grandparents. Benjamin, born about 1788 in Cartworth, Yorkshire, is the oldest ancestor I have discovered to date. During this search, I learned that when the 1881 UK Census was taken, Wright Hinchliffe was a convict in HM Prison Borstal in Kent. The record shows that he was a widower and his job in prison was a factory overlooker. I have not yet found out the reason for his incarceration, but maybe time will tell.

The second discovery sheds light on a McAdoo story of intrigue that goes back probably 75 years. My grandmother, Nellie Butler McAdoo died in 1930, leaving my grandfather and the four children, Jimmy, Helen, Howard, and Marie at home in Germantown. My dad married my mother the next year and Helen married Dick Wharton a year or two later. I’m not sure of the next sequence of events, but shortly after the two marriages, my parents took in Howard and Marie went to live with Helen and Dick. My grandfather sold the home at 127 W. Ashmead Street and at some point, went to live a cousin, Annie Stumm and her family on Ridge Avenue in either Manayunk or East Falls.

I remember “Aunt” Annie and three of her four children very well. She was always kind to me when my dad and I visited and she and my dad got along well with one another. Most importantly, my grandfather seemed to be happy. He was still working at the Philadelphia Gas Works and I assume he was the sole support of the Stumm family. However, the “cousin” arrangement did not meet with the approval of Helen and Marie. Their Catholic upbringing and strong Catholic faith led them to believe that their father was living in sin and would never go to heaven and they blamed Annie.

I never knew the spelling of Annie’s last name until our reunion last summer, when Uncle Les Ledbetter, Marie’s husband told me the correct spelling. Well, to shorten the story, I now know where Annie fits into the family. Anna Mae McAdoo Stumm was the daughter of Daniel McAdoo, who was the brother of my great grandfather, James. She was born November 25, 1897 in Port Kennedy, Montgomery County, PA. Her first marriage ended in divorce in 1919 and she married Frederick Charles Stumm in 1920. They had four children, Susanna, Frederick, Jr., Walter, and Amelia.

So, now you know about the skeletons in the closets of two families. It remains to be seen how many more will be discovered.

The search for my McClain Ancestors

The search for my McClain ancestors began with the memory of my great grandmother Eliza/ Elizabeth McClain McAdoo.  I have several clear memories of her from when I was a young boy.  I remember meeting her several times at my dad’s Uncle Elmer’s home in Malvern, PA.  I also met her at her daughter, Edna’s apartment on Ridge Ave. in Philadelphia.  I remember her as a small, friendly woman dressed in dark clothes.  I also remember my dad telling me that she had passed away while I was at Rutgers University.

When I began searching for my McAdoo ancestors last year, I learned that my great grandparents were buried in the First Presbyterian Church of Port Kennedy cemetery and that my great grandmother’s maiden name was Eliza McClain.  Ginnie and I visited the cemetery in October, 2004.  We located the grave site and the inscription on the monument read, James McAdoo, 1859-1934 and Elizabeth, his wife, 1865-1954.  There was also a monument on an adjacent plot inscribed, Lena E. McAdoo, 1890-1893, a name I did not recognize.  A short distance away, we discovered two additional monuments.  One was inscribed, William McAdoo, 1834-1903, Sarah J., his wife, 1835-1895, “Resting” and the second monument, William D. McAdoo, Jr. 1865-1889, Mary McAdoo, 1876-1901, “Resting”.  William and Sarah, I soon learned were my great great grandparents.  

The 1900 Federal Census showed James and Eliza living in East Whitehead Township, Chester County.  They had been married 15 years (1885) and by 1900, Eliza had given birth to five children, four of whom were living.  The record showed that she was 37 years old and her birth date was February, 1863.  She was born in Pennsylvania and could read, write, and speak English.  Her parents were both born in Ireland.

The family still lived in East Whitehead Township at the time of the 1910 Census and my great grandmother’s name was recorded as Elizabeth.  Her age was given as 48.  She had been married 26 years and had seven children, six of whom were living.  She had been born in Pennsylvania; however, the census showed that her parents were also born in Pennsylvania.  I believe that entry is incorrect.

The 1920 and 1930 Censuses both show that Elizabeth’s parents were born in Ireland (1920) and Northern Ireland (1930).  The household in 1920 included a brother-in-law, James McClain.  He was 58 (1862) at the time, single, and had been born in Pennsylvania.  This confirmed Elizabeth’s maiden name and provided the name of another McClain relative

I continued searching for Elizabeth’s and James’ parents without success, so I decided to focus my search on James McClain.  In 1880, James was 19 years old and lived with Oram Bleacher and his family in Upper Merion, Montgomery County. The other members of the family were Mary J., age 23, Oram’s wife, a daughter, Mary J., age 4, and a son, John, age 2.  James was listed as a boarder and he was employed at a local iron works.

I learned from the 1910 Census that James was again living with the Bleachers and was listed as Oram’s brother-in-law.  So, it was evident that James and Mary were siblings.  I also found out from the OneWorldTree Service that Mary’s name was actually Mary Jane.  The family was living in Upper Darby Township, Delaware County.  James was single and not working.

In 1900, James was still living in Upper Merion Township.  The Census listed him as the head of household.  There was a family residing with him, but I could not make out the last name.  However, the husband, Robert E, was listed as a brother-in –law and the wife, Clara E, age 25, as James’ sister.  They had three children.

I now know that there were four McClain siblings:  Mary Jane, born about 1857-58; James, born about 1861-62; Elizabeth, born about 1863-65; and Clara, born about 1874.  I have not been able to identify a McClain family in the 1870 Census with Mary Jane, James, and Elizabeth in the same family, so I am unable to determine the names of their parents, my great great grandparents.

There is a possible connection to my great great grandparents in the 1860 Census.  Living in Upper Merion at that time was a McClain family consisting of John McClain, age 30; his wife, Mary Ann, age 25; and a two year old daughter, Mary.  Both John and Mary Ann were born in Ireland and Mary was born in Pennsylvania.  The data fits the information I already know, but without the 1870 Census data, I am not completely certain that I have the correct McClain family, so the search continues.

Germantown Revisited

Ginnie and I made another trip to Germantown and the Germantown Historical Society yesterday to review additional Boys’ Club Newsletters that the librarian had located since my last visit.  We reviewed all of the weekly newsletters written between 1918 and 1928 that were in the file.  While I found only a few references to Jimmy’s competitive career, I discovered several other interesting pieces of information.

The Swarthmore connection to Germantown continues to grow with the discovery of an article in the March 17, 1922 newsletter issue announcing the hiring of J.W. Stevens as the swimming coach.  The article stated, “Mr. Stevens is one of the best known swimming coaches in the United States, he having had a large hand in developing a number of women swimmers, who were on the Olympic team that represented the United States in the games held two years ago.”  Here is the Swarthmore connection.  “He was largely responsible for the development of Charles Crownover, the Girard College boy, who is now at Swarthmore College.”  There is an undated article in Jimmy’s scrapbook reporting on the results of an A.A.U. meet held at Germantown Y where Crownover, representing PennA.C., beat Jimmy, who was representing the Boys’ Club, in a 100-yard freestyle race.

So, Jimmy had three coaches at the Boys’ Club-J.W. Stevens in 1922, Gil E. Tomlinson in 1925, who at that time was also the coach at Swarthmore, and Bob Dippy, Sr. in 1926-27 whose son, Bob, Jr. swam for Jimmy at Swarthmore before and after WWII.  I think that is amazing.

I found a short article in a November, 7, 1919 issue, (Jimmy was 10 years old)-“Last week Jimmy McAdoo, diminutive with a very wistful expression, asked if he might “organize a Self Governing Club.”  A group of prospective workers were being shown through the club at the time and it looked as if he had been coached in his part.  He was so earnest in his desire to start a club.  He explained to the prospective workers what he wanted and one of the men offered to start a club.  Jimmy hunted up some of his cronies and a new club is the result.  Everyone is watching Jimmy’s latest attempt to be a good citizen of the Big Club.”

The July 30, 1920 issue contained this item-“A new club has been organized in the swimming pool.  Since the name of the club is a secret, it will be known only as the E.T.B.  The purpose of the club is to help around the pool.  The club has already divided itself into two teams, the Eagles and the Bears.  There is a great rivalry between the two teams as to which can prove to be more useful.  A meeting of the club will be held Wednesday when the final details will be completed.  The members are Dick Brambley, Will Mitchell, Jimmy McAdoo, Paul Mangel, George Jacobs, Roy Townsend, Peter Tyler, and Spike McNeill.”

I have often mentioned that my dad did not talk much about his childhood.  Even though we lived only a mile from where he grew up, I had never seen his boyhood homes at 20 E. Ashmead St. and 127 W. Ashmead St., only the one at 5203 Germantown Ave.  After finishing up at the historical society, we drove the few blocks south on Germantown Ave. and found the three houses.  Although the neighborhood is bleak, as is most of Germantown, the exterior of the three houses appeared in reasonably good condition.  I took photos of all three.

We then traveled north on Germantown Ave. to the Philadelphia Print Shop in Chestnut Hill, where I found an 1860 Mitchell Street Map of Philadelphia showing the newly formed wards of the city.  I was able to locate Savery St. in the 18th Ward, where my great great grandparents, William and Sarah McAdoo lived in the 1860’s prior to moving to Port Kennedy, Montgomery County.  It was a bit too expensive, but something to consider in the future.

Those of you who know me are aware of how much I love cities and how I tend to try to envision possibilities for future renewal of our decaying urban areas.  I left Germantown yesterday with a feeling of sadness and pessimism for the future.  I saw no renewal efforts, vacant lots where familiar landmarks had stood, a lack of cleanliness around the neighborhoods, and little vibrancy in the air.  Yes, it was just a quick, focused tour, and yes, I might have been trying to relive my own youth, but I drove away from Germantown with the strong feeling that the town I love is still in urban decline.  

Trip to Germantown Historical Society

I visited the Germantown Historical Society on Tuesday, September 27th to research information about the Germantown Boys’ Club, specifically to see if I could locate information about my dad’s swimming career at the club.  I also wanted to review various City Directories for street addresses where William McAdoo and his family lived.  I generally undertake this type of project with high expectations, only to discover that much of the information is not available.  I found this to be the case in reviewing the files on the Germantown Boy’s Club; however, I did find some interesting information.

In the November 20, 1924 issue of the Germantown Boys’ Club News there was a brief item about the swimming coach, Gil E. Tomlinson.  It said, “He divides his time with the Germantown Boys’ Club and the Swarthmore College tank squad and has developed good teams at both places.”  I also saw some old photographs of I think, soccer teams posing for team pictures.  In one photo, a kid was holding a ball with Swarthmore printed on it.  Another team had Haverford printed on the ball.  I am fascinated by this Germantown Boys’ Club-Swarthmore connection.  

I also learned that Robert N. Dippy became the swimming coach in 1926.  I had known that he had coached my dad, but did not know when.  Dippy’s son, Bob, Jr. swam for my dad at Swarthmore before and after WWII.  In fact, he lent my dad his car to use while he was in the service.  I don’t remember the make or year, but I do remember it was a cream colored coupe convertible with a rumble seat.  It did not have a heater and I recall one cold winter night riding out to Swarthmore in a snow storm with my dad, wrapped in blankets for a swimming meet.  

Bob graduated with a degree in civil engineering.  I remember talking to him when I was a high school senior and trying to decide if I wanted to study engineering in college.  His advice proved to be invaluable.

When Jimmy was swimming for the Philadelphia Turners (1927-1933), he competed regularly against Swarthmore.  So long before Jimmy became the coach, he had connections to the college that went back to at least 1924.

I researched early Philadelphia City Directories in a further attempt to pinpoint my great great grandfather William’s arrival in America, which I know was sometime between 1848 and 1854.  Starting with the 1845 directory, I did not find a reference to William until 1860.  The directory listed his occupation as a laborer and his address as 1341 Savery [Street].  I found a similar reference in the 1862 directory.  In the listing for 1863, his name was spelled McAdue and his occupation was a carter, while the address was the same.  There was no listing in 1864 or in the following few years.

I searched the internet for Savery Street.  It does not exist today, but I found a reference in “Late and Former Names of Streets of the Old Districts of Northern Liberties, Kensington, Port Richmond and Spring Garden”, by Rudolph J. Walther that located Savery Street, “east of Marlborough Street, from Wildey Street to Frankford Avenue, Union Street.”  Frankford Avenue gave me an important geographic clue.

In the 1850’s Philadelphia restructured the city’s districts into wards.  When the 1860 Census was taken, William and his family were living in the Southwest Division of the 18th Ward, which had been part of the old Aramingo and Kensington Districts.  Frankford Avenue ran through those districts.  So, Savery Street fits geographically with what I had already known.  The 1860 Census does not list street names, only street numbers.  The McAdoo family, which at the time included my great great grandparents, William and Sarah, a daughter, Martha, age four, and my great grandfather, James, age one resided at number 1385 along with three other families totaling seventeen people.  I think it may be safe to assume that between the time the census was taken on August 7th and when the city directory was published, the family moved 1385 to 1341 Savery Street.  Sometime between 1860 and 1870, the family moved to Port Kennedy, Upper Merion Township, Montgomery County.  I now suspect it could have been about 1864.

All things considered, the trip was a success.  I discovered an early connection between Jimmy and Swarthmore College.  I learned the street name where my great great grandparents lived in the 1860’s and the approximate year they relocated to Port Kennedy.