Charleston, Ill., 1892

Edward P. Whalen, 21, was attending a business college in Danville, Indiana at the time his sister, Maggie, wrote him this letter.  This is a typical midwest farm life surrounded by land, income, and politics.

Charleston, Ill.

October 31, 1892

Mr. E.P. Whalen
Danville, Ind.

Dear brother Ed,

Your letter received last Sunday morning, and also I received the other letter you wrote, after I had mailed

the one to you.

We are having a little cold weather at present and we put up one heating stove.  Have not sold the broom

corn yet.  Some are selling right along for $85 & $90.  We have had no offer.  Geo Fitzsimmons was here

Tuesday night and a Mr. Wright, they came over to sell their broom corn.  I do not know whether they did

or not.  I made a mistake about the donation to the church.  Ma said it was two hundred but John says one

hundred and he and Joe $50 a piece making two hundred.  Tim was not here but he got him in town and

made him give fifty.  He does not intend to begin building till April.  Mary McLaughlin and her children

were here Sunday evening.  Stopped in going home from Tahans where she had been since Thursday.  Mrs.

Silence, Ed, Dave, and Carrie are all down with Typhoid fever, last we heard, day before yesterday, Carrie

was not expected to live through the nigh.  Mrs. Silence not much better.  Joe Tahan was very sick last

Sunday.  You had better stay in school this year I think.  That is unless you get a good chance, but if not my

advise is to stay at school.  Are you coming home for elections?  John says your vote won’t amount to

anything in Ill. but please yourself.

Ten of Mother’s largest turkeys died.  I suppose they had cholera, she got some poultry food and fed it to the

rest and cured them.  We have a lovely fall here.  the roads are nice, and we had splendid weather through

broom corn harvest.  I will send you the Courier and also the Oakland Ledger to let you see what the Ledger

is saying for Catholics.  I can think of nothing more to say.  Write soon & with much love I will conclude,

Maggie.

Ed Whalen and his Freshman Class, Danville, Indiana

Ed Whalen is in the back row, 2nd from the end on the left

Ed Whalen and his graduating Class

My dear Ed,

Welcome-!

My dear Readers,

I am going to take you on a journey.  It’s a timeless love story of a family separated by illness and distance.

My story begins with a visit to Charleston, Illinois in 1992.  By this time, I am in my mid 40′s and my grandfather’s house was occupied by his, now, 3 elderly spinster daughters; Helen, and twins Catherine and Margaret. Invalid and bedridden Aunt Catherine, asked me to “write about the family.”  Nothing about our family was, well,  nothing, but, ordinary.    There were no hidden secrets in the family.  Just a lot of inflated Irish tempers.  Only, if there was a secret or two to be found, where would one begin to look for something that needed to be told?  Due to Aunt Catherine’s frail state, I learned, later, this was something she wanted to do after her retirement.  Illness robbed her of meeting this goal.

Up to this point, I knew whatever Aunt Catherine had intended to use as research was not downstairs……for deceased Aunt Edna, never allowed anything to be saved.  The attic was a good start.  Up to this point, in my life, the attic has always been forbidden to me.  But, I was no child anymore, and I took this into consideration,  when I opened the door to the forbidden attic.  And, of course, I found my aunt’s request.  Yes, in this narrow area, from which opened from Aunt Edna’s bedroom, the attic contained a brown paper bag with a note attached, by a rustic straight pen to it, which read: “Save Personal Papers.” As the bag began to crumble in my hands from the 82 years of  attic conditions……..winter and summer weather conditions will do that in an old Victorian house.……I found letters laying in an old wooden box written by my tuberculosis grandmother and postal cards by her six little girls in 1910.  I raced downstairs to where Aunt Catherine slept and I asked her, “Are these the letters you want me to write about the family?”  Her only reply was, “Yes.”

Back to my home in Winnetka, Illinois I take these sacred family treasures.  First, I  spent an entire month just familiarizing myself with her old English penmanship and sorting everyone  in a daily chronological order.  Since it was the days before I owned a computer, I did it the old fashion way, a typewriter. After 3 months, I returned to Charleston and read to my 3 elderly aunts their mother’s words.  82 years later,  these readings returned joy and memories to them, and, they were mesmerized by their mother’s “voice.”

You see, my grandmother, Mary “Minnie” Whalen had tuberculosis of the lungs in 1910.  She had a husband and six little girls who all needed her to get well.  With her spinster sister, Hanna, they left Charleston on April 15, 1910 and by train headed for a section of the country known only then as part of the Union…..not yet a State for another 2 years,  Las Vegas, New Mexico.  Why here you are asking?  It was the ONLY Catholic TB sanitarium in the country in 1910 and Minnie was very Catholic.

Right now, I am getting ahead of  myself though.  I want to tell you,  Minnie’s letters were my introduction to knowing her.  My grandfather was 75 years by the time I was born and Minnie had already passed.  My posting these letters will be Minnie’s “voice ” and, me, as the narrator.  Narration is necessary to avoid repetition that happens in letters to the same people over time, and, I did know all the main characters, except for one.

Remember:  As you read My dear Ed, no parts of these letters, postal cards , story, photos, documentations or input may be used for your own personal gain or given to anyone with the same financial intent without my written permission.

Denise Conaghan Snakard