My Uncle Ed and Aunt Mag Sheehan worked hard
building a business and a good life for themselves and Ed’s son Eddy. The time was 1929 in the city of Montivideo,
MN. At this time Montivideo was the
terminus of the railroad, the roundhouse as they call it. It was a growing town scheduled for a big
future. Ed and Mag owned a full one
block two-story building. Part was rented to a grocery store and they had a
bakery on one side and a soda fountain in the other. The second floor was still unfinished. In general life was pleasant there. They had a good school, churches and all that you might expect in
blooming small town. Relative’s worked for the railroad so family was always
near by. Eddy would play with his cousin Harold Sullivan and though Harold was
a few years older they got along just fine.
Eddy was not Mag’s son. His birth mother had died shortly after he was
born. Mag then raised Eddy as her own son and her and Eddy had no other
children.
Ed felt it was time to finish the
apartments above the grocery store to get them rented out. He went to the bank and had no problem
borrowing some $80,000.00, which in this time was be more than enough to do the
job. Work on the second floor started
immediately and the job was progressing nicely. Ed and Mag were excited about all the changes.
Relative’s from all over came to see
the progress but as you well know life’s not all roses. Suddenly like a thunder
bolt the stock market bottomed out, the crash sent the whole country into a
depression that took ten years to come out of.
In one day, like so many others all over the country, Ed and Mag were
broke. The bank recalled the loan, which was mostly spent already. People and
suppliers demanded their pay in advance for anything done. Ed and Mag were
devistated to say the least. They had never known a time when they could not
pay their bills.
You could say they were not alone
since the entire country felt the same hurt, but when you feel it for yourself
it’s different. Two very proud and
self-sufficient people were brought to their knees and that exactly were they
fell. Their strong Catholic faith had
always been a big part of their life and so in this time of trouble they turn
to it. Down on their knee’s they prayed for a miracle because it was the only
thing they knew to do.
Get back to work and re-pay all the
money they owed. This was their first step. There was little money to be had
then so anything sold went cheap. Ed and Mag worked harder than they ever had
and it still took a year to get it all done, but at that point everyone was
paid. Ed and Mag didn’t owe a penny to anyone. When they felt Montivideo they
had little more than the cloths on their backs.
My dad Joe Enfield had found them a
night job as hash cooks in an all night truck stop in Owatonia, MN. You must
realize Ed and Mag were professional bankers and hash cookin’ in a truck stop
was a real come down from their usual setting. But it was a job and money had
to be made. I heard it said that in their time at the truck stop the amount of
customer’s doubled. Mag would make fresh rolls every morning and they were
popular.
Dad went to meet Ed and Mag in
Owatonia to introduce them to the lady who ran the truck stop, before Dad left
Ed called and asked dad if he could come and pick them up out of Montivideo. It
seems that at the last minute a man came by with one last unpaid bill that Ed
had forgotten about. The man was in need of payment and Ed wasn’t about to
leave town owing money. Ed had to give the man his car in payment. Dad was driving a two ton 1928 Chevy at
this time but he agreed to the extra trip. I think the couple had a special
place in dad’s heart, and believe me not many people got to dad like that.
I rode along with dad and we picked
them up and headed for Owatonia. We got there about 3:00 P.M. and dad
introduced everyone. They all talked and agreed to start work that night, on
the 9:00 P.M. shift, which lasted through till 5:00 A.M. After settling on the specific’s of the job
the owner of the truck stop asked Ed and Mag if they had a place to stay. Since
they had no idea where they were going to stay that night the owner said he had
a house on the edge of town that hadn’t been rented for over a year and offered
it to them for as long as they worked for him.
Uncle Ed and Aunt Mag expressed their gratitude and went off to find the
house and get settled in. The house was really on the edge of town and that
meant about a mile walk for them to the truck stop. The walk wasn’t a problem,
but the house though clean, was bare, no furniture or anything. Ed and Mag looked at each other and Ed
said, “well, it will have to do since we have no other options.” The boy Eddy
had said almost nothing through all of this; he was about 12 years old now.
Standing there in the empty house Eddy looked more lost than ever and still he
said nothing. All they owned was two or
three standard suitcases and a couple of cardboard boxes. When my dad looked around at the long faces
he said “Come on, let’s go find some orange crates and boxes to sit on.” In
those days stuff like that was always easy to find, but not that day. We looked all over town and finally after
the full day found a few. Then to my
surprise dad offered to make then dinner, but they wouldn’t hear of it. “No,
no.” they said they felt very uncomfortable not being able to repay dad for all
of his help. On that note dad said we should be going so they could get ready
for their night shift at the truck stop.
On the way home dad didn’t say a
word for a long time, this was very unusual for the man. Finally he spoke, his
voice almost cracking, he said “That was the one of the hardest things I’ve
ever done.” Dad went on to tell me about the great people Ed and Mag used to
be. The next day Dad got an old bed and
some bed covers to take over to them.
I remember going to that truck stop
for dinner once and it was so crowded customers were standing in line, we never
did get to eat. A few months later
there was a family gathering at Grampa Fitzgerald’s farm. I was in the kitchen,
looking to sneak a taste of the good food. I was standing behind two women, I
didn’t know who they were. Aunt Mag was cooking as usual and had a habit of
whistling as she worked. She was so happy working away in the kitchen. One of the two women in front of me turned
to the other and said under her breath “What’s the whistling about, doesn’t she
know they are broke?” I was just a kid and really didn’t know why, but at that
moment I was suddenly very proud that she was my aunt. Uncle Ed and Aunt Mag worked at the truck
stop for two or three years.
Dad made many trips to the twin
cities and on his way back he would always stop at the saloon in Cannon Falls.
The old man who owned it was blind and very sharp mentally. He had his son
running the saloon. When dad asked him about the empty restaurant next door he
said that he owned it as well but had had bad luck renting it in the past. Dad
had mentioned that he knew a couple that would be interested in the old
building. The saloon owner told dad to bring them around, he wanted five
minutes to talk to them and then he could decide if the arrangement would work
or not. Dad took Ed and Mag to Cannon Falls the next chance he got. The blind
man after talking to them for no more than five minutes asked Ed and Mag how
much money they would need to get started on the restaurant. Ed had been
thinking about it and said $1500.00. The blind man said, “Done. When can you
open.” Ed told the blind man they would
have to give the truck stop two weeks notice. “O.K. we’ll see you in two
weeks.” said the blind man. This was
the start of a great friendship. That
blind man was a good judge of character and new this was a wise investment.
About a month after the restaurant
was up and running Ed and Mag invited me and my family up for Sunday dinner. A
real treat for us because we very seldom ate in a restaurant. No stores or
restaurants in Minnesota then were open on a Sunday’s. About half way through
our meal there was a knock on the door. The man at the door said there were
three bus loads of people who had been traveling all day, and were wondering if
there was any way they could get some food.
Dad asked Ed if they had the supply of food. Ed wasn’t sure what to do;
he hadn’t had this many customers in over a week. Ed turned to the man and said “ O.K., if you’ll take what I
got. The man said, “That’s fine we’ll
take anything.” Dad turned to us kids
and said, "grab your plates and get out back. " It was warm outside
so all we had find some shade and keep to our selves. Then Ed and Mag cooked away dad and mother served the food and
they fed the whole bunch. Ed said later
that they had made enough money in one day off to cover them for the whole
month.
On some of my rides with dad he
would stop at Cannon Fall’s, although I never did see any falls, we would have
a great meal. This I thought was the best and maybe it just was the best of
times.
I think it was about 1938 when Ed
finally paid off the restaurant and when he did the blind man asked if he was
interested in buying a saloon as well.
“I thought your son was …” Ed started to say. “No,” interupted the blind
man, “ I just sit here and day after day and hear that till ring, but then at
the days end the books just don’t match up to the money. That son of mine
thinks I’m a blind old fool, but he’s the one that’s not to smart.” The blind man wanted Ed to take over the
saloon and really make it big. They settled the deal right then and there.
I have to add something about Eddy –
When Ed took over the saloon Eddy was twenty-one so naturally he went right to
work as a bartender. After a few months
Eddy’s nose got red and extreemly sore. All the bar patrons were kidded Eddy
about drinking a little much on the sly, but Eddy had never had a drink in his
life. On one of those trips with dad we
stopped as usual in Cannon Falls to find Eddy not around. In asking Ed where he was and what had ever
come of the sore, red nose we found out that Eddy was at that time at the
doctor’s trying to figure that out.
“Well,” Ed said to his son “ what’d the doc say?” Eddy walked over to
the bar grabbed the bottle of whisky, poured a shot and drank it down. Ed couldn’t believe it; he’d never seen Eddy
touch alcohol. In response to his
father’s astonishment Eddy said, “ that’s precisely what the doctor said was
wrong with me. I am allergic to alcohol
fumes. I was prescribed to take a shot a day for the next six months and it’ll
clear up.” Eddy did just as instructed
for the next six months, the pain was gone and he never touched a drop of
alcohol again.
This is the remaining ramblings of an old man who lived in those times and remembers what I want to. My Uncle Ed and Aunt Mag and Eddy were people I recall with great fondness. It seems the world was a lot younger then. Why did it have to get old? They were still in Cannon Falls when the family moved to Washington in 1942 and I don’t recall seeing them ever again. My only regret is that I never told them how much I admired Them. I wish they knew how their struggles and strength influenced me in my life. It was truly a blessing to me that they were my Uncle Ed and Aunt Mag.