The Monongahela.

The Murphys' story continues...

Another son Patrick had a clerical job, married a girl who lived in a suburb of Pittsburgh, where they moved to, had several children and apparently lived a long life.  The second daughter, Mary, a Normal School graduate, taught in Roscoe School until her marriage to Thomas Timlin. They then moved to Brownsville to be close to his work in the mine. When Mary was a young girl, she took her two brothers (Eddie and William) James and me to the movie theatre every week.  It cost five cents a piece, nothing for me since I was only five. Thomas Timlin was a pit boss in Hillman Mine in Brownsville where they lived until they bought the Drum house in 1926 situated next to the Murphy home. She had two children, Marion Thomas and Edward. Mary was the church organist in St. Joseph Church, Roscoe and taught in St. Jerome Parochial School for several years. The last two boys of Maria and Patrick Murphy were Edward and William, one year younger than I. My brother James and Edward (Skinner) were inseparable, a relationship never lost. Edward became a Supervisor in the Railroad Yard which necessitated his crossing the Monongahela River to Roscoe from Newell every day. (I have a separate account about a tragic accident during one crossing).  Marrying later than James he had four children. Another one of the unfortunate, he died at age fifty of cancer. The youngest, William, one grade below me in school, a Business School graduate, found an excellent job with the Railroad, married a Roscoe girl and located his family in the suburbs of Pittsburgh. He also died young. We were close to this family visiting often and my mother’s family. We were almost one. Many descendants of this family are living and may have recorded many other pertinent facts.

“There is no such thing as security, only a caricature of it." James Thurber

Security is one reason why many people moved from one place to another. The Murphys who had remained in Scotland, my grandmother, Kathleen, Bernard, and Mother prepared for their move to America. What were their feelings and thoughts at going to some alien place, different from the city they had lived in for years. With what anticipation did they get ready to leave? John Murphy would be there to claim them. Mother rarely talked about the trip across the Atlantic but did say she was often sick and disliked the crowded conditions in steerage. Added to the physical discomfort was the insistent emotional one—going from friends to strangers. Also troubled by probable detention in Ellis Island and the possibility that their brother John would not be there to insure their landing.  But he was there and a happy reunion dispelled all misgivings.  Then the trip by train to Southwestern PA to John’s home in Newell on the Monongahela.

“The mind turns, seeks a new nativity, another place, simple, less weighted down by what has already been.”  Unsettling of America. Wendell Berry.

The new region naturally had a different effect upon each member of this group, depending upon their ages and hopes. Each member must have viewed their surroundings differently; with resignation, apprehension, fear or delight. Since each one had had a different life in a crowded city in Scotland. Such a different environment could have been frightening in Fayette County, Jefferson Township, their first home but time alone would tell.  Life goes on as it does everywhere with joy and sorrow, light and darkness, promise and heartache but what love does not know the ache of fear and what joy is not tinged with regret.

“The river looked at him with a thousand eyes green, white, crystal and sky blue. Water continually flowed and flowed but it was continually there it was always the same but every minute new. The river enchanted him.”  Siddharta.  Herman Hesse.

The Monongahela River always had a special attraction for Mother, 12 years old, a focal point in her life. The shore was her playground where she soon met other children, McGuinnesses, Darrachs, Clendaniels, (all of Irish descent), who continued as friends for many years. As time passed Mother learned how to propel a boat, small, adventuring out on the river, her lack of fear was ignorance because the river was dangerous. I always, although attracted to it, feared it.  Often her mother came to the river bank to watch, fearful always. Many years later, married, she would take us out in such a small boat for a ride. To me it was always an entirely fearful occasion.  Soon the family moved to Granville, farther away from the river.

Deeds in my possession have names and dates of property deals.  One stated that on May 3, 1886 Duncan McGivern to Mary Murphy – Jefferson Township, Fayette County for six hundred dollars – all that land or lot of ground situated in Granville, East Pike Run Township, Washington County, Pennsylvania, lying on the west side of of Harrison Street in Granville being fifty feet in front and running back maintaining the same width one hundred feet.  A home was built on this lot. During the summer Mother, about 14, explored the area, free from restrictions of a city.  She climbed the hill near her home, marveled at the lush fields, amazed at the rich products – apples, pears, peaches, berries, grapes, often wandering near the farms and became acquainted with the farmers. This summer after spending many months in the fields she became strong and healthy.  In her words, “brown as a berry”.

Under the winter moon

The river wind

Sharpens the rocks.  Chora

Although winter can be a beautiful season, its coming often brings anxiety. It meant an end to many outside activities, makes many people captive indoors, and often brings sickness. This was more true of people living 1886 than it is today.  And it did bring a sickness to Bernard Murphy, three years older than mother. Physicians in 19^th century knew little compared to those today but no physicians can understand how difficult it is for those watching a loved one get weaker day by day.  Irish were stoics, strong willed but would be broken hearted when a young boy (17) was slowly dying.  He was buried in a cemetery near St. Peter Church Brownsville (no Mt Calvary then).

When James bought his first car, he took mother and me to Brownsville where we found his grave. It was James’ first car and I felt we might not reach Brownsville with our bodies whole. 

Tragic events rarely singly come. The next one left a void in mother which was never filled.  Her sister Catherine (Kate) could never adapt to this new life in Granville, isolated, far from her Scotch friends, the city life, her work in a factory.  At twenty-one she became depressed, pining for what had been, glamorizing her life in Scotland.  Respecting her uniqueness, the family finally agreed that she should go back to her previous home sensing within themselves that they would never see her again.  News traveled slowly. Many months later they received news of her death.  Mother was inconsolable, the wound smarted for a long time, felt something die in her heart, depressed, and it never did completely heal.  She went tramping into the hills, fleeing from reality but never able to get away from her grief, she had to accept the inevitable.  Life sometimes can be cruel but these tragedies made the Murphy family more understanding, more compassionate, and more loving.

From The History of the McManuses and Murphys.  Undated.