Mary Agnes (Ennis) Gleason
My mother, Mary Agnes (Ennis) Gleason, was born March 25, 1906 in Boston, Massachusetts. She was the second child and the second girl born to Thomas and Agnes (Cleary) Ennis.
At the time her birth the Ennis family was living on Fleet St. in the North End of Boston, which was then populated by Irish immigrants before the area became an Italian community. My mother used to like to brag that she was born on the same street as Rose Fitzgerald Kennedy, the mother of President John F. Kennedy.
My mother’s parents (Thomas and Agnes) both came down from Newfoundland, Canada separately in their late teens to start a new life, and they met in Boston and got married. Thomas was a fisherman who would sail out of Boston to the Grand Banks on the main fishing boat and then would be dispatched to fish from a dory. Between the time Mary was conceived and her birth, Thomas got lost at sea for several days. When he was rescued in his dory, he was very weak and ill. Thomas passed away shortly after the boat returned to Boston. So Mary never knew her real father.
Agnes grew up in Riverhead, Harbour Grace, Newfoundland. When Agnes and her sister, Margaret immigrated, Margaret to Montreal and Agnes to Boston, they left behind many siblings. Following the death of Thomas Agnes married and started a new family with Patrick Dooley, who was also originally from Newfoundlander (Carbonier) and was a fisherman on the same boat as Thomas. So Pat Dooley became the grandfather that I got to know.
Mary and her family moved to East Boston, where she went to grammar and high school, attending the Fitton School. She never finished high school, going to work when she was 16 to help to support her large family. In addition to Betty, her older sister, Mary had 8 stepbrothers and stepsisters, who had to survive on a fisherman’s salary. Needless to say to say, the family lived a very meager lifestyle and had to endure many tragic events.
When Mary was a teenager there was a major influenza epidemic and two of her younger siblings died. Mary would often spoke about her sister Beatrice, who was the oldest of the stepchildren and three years younger than Mary. Beatrice died when she was 15 years of blood poisoning when bacteria got into her bloodstream from a simple cut. In those days penicillin had not been discovered and many diseases and medical conditions, which are treated and cured routinely today, proved to be fatal.
I don’t know much about Mary’s work experience, only that she worked at the General Electric light bulb plant. The building still exists today and is located near Logan Airport. Mary’s family lived in several locations in East Boston: Bennington St, Saratoga St., and Havre St. On many occasions Mary pointed out to me the Havre St. home, a wooden 3-decker adjacent to the exit from the Callahan Tunnel. Of course in those days the tunnel didn’t exist.
Mary would talk about her days growing up in East Boston with fond memories of her life-long friends, Rita Nevins and Helen Brzezinski. In the summer they used to go the park and swim in Chelsea Creek. If you look at Chelsea Creek today, it is black and muddy and it is hard to imagine it as a swimming hole. She would also talk about Wood Island Park, which no longer exists. The island was confiscated along with the surrounding water to create Logan Airport. Mary would tell stories of walking out to Wood Island in the winter when Boston Harbor was ice-covered. Imagine there was a time when the harbor froze! She would also describe the trip (yes trip) to downtown Boston via the ferry from Jeffries Point in East Boston.
Mary always lived with her family and at some point they moved to the Dorchester section of Boston. At age 31 Mary married my father. Bernard W. Gleason Sr., on June 6, 1937 at St Margaret’s Church in Dorchester. Mary and Bernard had dated for 7 years before they got married. The reason that they waited so long was that their courtship was during the Great Depression and they didn’t think they could afford to start a family.
At the time her birth the Ennis family was living on Fleet St. in the North End of Boston, which was then populated by Irish immigrants before the area became an Italian community. My mother used to like to brag that she was born on the same street as Rose Fitzgerald Kennedy, the mother of President John F. Kennedy.
My mother’s parents (Thomas and Agnes) both came down from Newfoundland, Canada separately in their late teens to start a new life, and they met in Boston and got married. Thomas was a fisherman who would sail out of Boston to the Grand Banks on the main fishing boat and then would be dispatched to fish from a dory. Between the time Mary was conceived and her birth, Thomas got lost at sea for several days. When he was rescued in his dory, he was very weak and ill. Thomas passed away shortly after the boat returned to Boston. So Mary never knew her real father.
Agnes grew up in Riverhead, Harbour Grace, Newfoundland. When Agnes and her sister, Margaret immigrated, Margaret to Montreal and Agnes to Boston, they left behind many siblings. Following the death of Thomas Agnes married and started a new family with Patrick Dooley, who was also originally from Newfoundlander (Carbonier) and was a fisherman on the same boat as Thomas. So Pat Dooley became the grandfather that I got to know.
Mary and her family moved to East Boston, where she went to grammar and high school, attending the Fitton School. She never finished high school, going to work when she was 16 to help to support her large family. In addition to Betty, her older sister, Mary had 8 stepbrothers and stepsisters, who had to survive on a fisherman’s salary. Needless to say to say, the family lived a very meager lifestyle and had to endure many tragic events.
When Mary was a teenager there was a major influenza epidemic and two of her younger siblings died. Mary would often spoke about her sister Beatrice, who was the oldest of the stepchildren and three years younger than Mary. Beatrice died when she was 15 years of blood poisoning when bacteria got into her bloodstream from a simple cut. In those days penicillin had not been discovered and many diseases and medical conditions, which are treated and cured routinely today, proved to be fatal.
I don’t know much about Mary’s work experience, only that she worked at the General Electric light bulb plant. The building still exists today and is located near Logan Airport. Mary’s family lived in several locations in East Boston: Bennington St, Saratoga St., and Havre St. On many occasions Mary pointed out to me the Havre St. home, a wooden 3-decker adjacent to the exit from the Callahan Tunnel. Of course in those days the tunnel didn’t exist.
Mary would talk about her days growing up in East Boston with fond memories of her life-long friends, Rita Nevins and Helen Brzezinski. In the summer they used to go the park and swim in Chelsea Creek. If you look at Chelsea Creek today, it is black and muddy and it is hard to imagine it as a swimming hole. She would also talk about Wood Island Park, which no longer exists. The island was confiscated along with the surrounding water to create Logan Airport. Mary would tell stories of walking out to Wood Island in the winter when Boston Harbor was ice-covered. Imagine there was a time when the harbor froze! She would also describe the trip (yes trip) to downtown Boston via the ferry from Jeffries Point in East Boston.
Mary always lived with her family and at some point they moved to the Dorchester section of Boston. At age 31 Mary married my father. Bernard W. Gleason Sr., on June 6, 1937 at St Margaret’s Church in Dorchester. Mary and Bernard had dated for 7 years before they got married. The reason that they waited so long was that their courtship was during the Great Depression and they didn’t think they could afford to start a family.