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Elopement Frustrated by Sheriff Donahue
This interesting little account of long ago was in the Winona Minnesota Republican-Herald on Saturday August 10, 1907 in which a certain Sheriff Donohue of Mankato, MN played a part.
Research on Ancestry.com and Find-a-Grave.com provided the following information on the above mentioned Sheriff Donahue.
His full name was John William Donahue (spelled with an “a” in the obituary). He was born in Illinois of Thomas Donahue and wife Margaret (Hartnett) Donahue who came from Ireland to the USA during the civil war and settled on a farm in Kinsman, Illinois. John W. was born on this farm in 1866. He received a splendid education in Illinois and in 1893 he accepted a position as a traveling farm machinery salesman headquartered in Mankato, MN. In 1901 Mr. Donahue retired from the road and engaged in the retail farm implement business in Mankato.
He served as Chief of Police of Mankato in 1903, 1911 and 1912. At the expiration of his first term of chief of police, in the fall of 1906, He was elected to the office of sheriff and proved a most efficient and painstaking official. He was a man possessed of a kindly and charitable nature and was a friend to all. As a public official he was very successful, attentive, obliging, conservative and judicious in the fulfillment of his duties and anxious to serve the county and city to the very best of his ability. He cherished no animosity and was always willing and wanted to help mankind when in need. He too, was a kind and devoted husband and father. Mr. Donahue was married to Martha Reynolds Bohan, in this city June 20th 1907. They had five children. He died on July 7, 1919.
Extracted From Mankato Free Press clipping 1-28-1919
Finally, it is interesting to note that that the frustrated elopers, Samuel Tillotson and Edith Stockdill never married each other.
In Worcester Mass, the first large group of Irish arrived in 1820 to build the Worcester to Providence canal. They were prohibited from living in the village proper and were relegated to the swamp land along the Blackstone river where the canal was being built. Many of them stayed to build the Worcester to Boston RR, which competed with the canal. Other Irish followed, especially in the wake of the 1840 famines, throughout the 1800s. By the end of the century Worcester had more Irish per capita than Boston, with many Kerry O'Donoghues. They moved up from the lowland on the east side of the village to the surrounding hills. Many emigrants from Italy, Russia, Poland, etc. followed, creating the polyglot East Side. Also living on the East Side in those early years were freed African Americans. I'm the 1950s, the polyglot whites and the African American kids played basket ball in the school yard. The African Americans on one team, calling themselves "boots", naming the mixed nationality white team as "paddys". Boots refers to boot black, an early occupation, during a time when most of their white neighbors were Irish.
Contributed by Tim Donohue
Butte, Montana: Ireland's Fifth Province
My earliest memory as a child was watching a St. Patrick’s Day parade on my Father’s shoulders. My Dad was posted to Butte, Montana, USA with a busy post WW2 Army reserve unit. It was a hard scrabble rural mining town far away from the larger metropolises we associate with the Irish like Boston or San Francisco.
Years later when I became interested in my Irish family, I realized that Butte is regarded as one of the most Irish influenced small cities in America. It was town of many immigrants, but no other cultural group flocked to Butte quite like the Irish.
So, how did this heritage start? The story goes, in the late 1800s following the discovery of gold, silver, copper and other rich minerals in this area Butte became the center of high paying jobs and opportunities. Butte was known as the richest hill on earth. Hundreds of Irish men and women emigrated here chasing this new prosperity. An oft-told story is of emigrants being told, “don’t stop in America, go straight to Butte!”
Marcus Daly, one of the three “Copper Kings,” was born in Cavan and spoke Gaelic. When he saw the potential for demand in copper, he surrounded himself with fellow Irishmen. The Irish culture prevailed and was assimilated throughout the community.
At the height of Butte’s prosperity in 1900 one-fourth of the Butte population was Irish, a bigger percentage than any city in the United States including Boston. The Butte Irish, came from Cork, Mayo, Donegal, Kerry, Cavan and Wexford.
By the early twentieth century, there were 1200 Sullivan’s in the Butte City directory. (Irish Genealogical Society International).
The 2019 city of Butte is 30-odd thousand people, down from nearly 100,000 during WWI and is no longer the Richest Hill on Earth. Changes in technology and society, the depletion of immense orebodies, and the discovery of even more incredible deposits elsewhere have stolen that crown. What remains in Butte is a unique and storied city with a core group of people who still celebrate much of their Irish heritage. It is never more evident than on St. Patricks Day.
Sydney had its area with a high concentration of Irish families in the 1920s. The area was borderline "Ghetto". Historians might challenge this observation because Irish had arrived since 1788 and they were also sprinkled around Sydney generally, many families having integrated with the Anglo Communities. These Inner Sydney suburbs were Surry Hills, Wooloomooloo and Paddington, My Irish Donohoe family lived there 1880 to 1900.
Author Ruth Park wrote at least two novels on the subject. These are great stories. Movies have been made based on these books. The DVDs are available on the Internet. The books are titled "The Harp in the South" and "Poor Man's Orange".
The books focuses on a family living in the area amid a low class social environment. These areas embraced the Sydney red light district and the family interacts with the Madam, sly grog (moonshine?) business, cheap gangsters and stand-over men whilst on the positive side abides with the local Clergy amidst the Church society.
A biography of one of the Irish Madams, insinuated in these books, Kate Leigh nee Beahan, is sited on the Internet, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kate_Leigh
I actually met Kate just before she died. It was a very unpleasant experience.
I also lived near the country town of Boorowa about ten years ago. That was an Irish town. The population is less than 2,000 people. It has a beautiful Catholic Church with the most stunning Altar and Sanctuary made of Italian marble. There is a local quote about a Nun travelling through the United States who was asked if she had been to Rome. She answered "No, but I have been to Boorowa". My Donohoe prospected for gold there in the 1880s. My great-grandfather fashioned his bride's wedding ring from Boorowa gold. I have it.
Philadelphia has one of the largest populations of Americans of Irish descent - it was at 14% last figures I read in a reliable documented article. There are still "ghettos" of Irish-descent in South Philadelphia, Kensington and Southwest Phila along with a lot of areas of Delaware County (one of the 5 counties in this corner of the state and contiguous with the city on that side of the city.
Going back 70-80 years, the irish settled in West Philadelphia and many of those folks, when they made enough to move out, moved to Delaware County. There were also communities in South Phila (a lot of whom upped and moved to South Jersey in the 60's and 70's. And those in Kensinglon and Port Richmond (towns that go absorbed into Phila and became neighborhoods) moved further north or northeast into the undeveloped northeast of the city during the same times frame.
There's a huge article on Wikipedia about the Irish in philadelphia which is much more detailed if you or anyone else is interested.. Here is the link.
Carol Hurley Law, responding to ‘How the Famine affected my family’ tells us the story of her Kerry/Cork families settled on Irish Mountain in West Virginia.
This was so extensive I felt it should be given the length of a journal article and with full picture content.
Thomas Witte, responding to ‘Irish Ghettos, where did the Irish settle in large numbers in your hometown?’ introduces us to some Connemara Irish who settled in an area of St Paul Minnesota which became known as Connemara Patch.
This was so extensive I felt it should be given the length of a journal article and with full picture content.
Contributed by Mike Donahue
My g-grandfather, Patrick O'Donoghue immigrated to Chicago with his wife, Mary Kelly in the 1850s. He joined his brother, Michael and his wife, Catherine Harty. They settled in a heavily Irish neighborhood 3 miles south of downtown. Over the years, this neighborhood was called "Hard Scrabble," then "Cabbagetown" and finally, Bridgeport.
Work digging a canal was plentiful for men with strong backs; one brother was a laborer, the other was a teamster. St Bridget's church opened about the time Patrick arrived and with it came a school. Though conditions were better than they were in Ireland, this ghetto was tough. Here's a quote that appeared in a Chicago newspaper in 1867:
“...in 1867 Chicago’s captains of industry called in the state’s militia to repress Irish strikers in Bridgeport, a suburb dominated by packing houses, rolling mills and workers’ shanties. In short, as one outraged immigrant declared, the life of an Irish laborer in mid-century America was often “despicable, humiliating, (and) slavish”… there “was no love lost for him - no protection of life- (he) can be shot down, run through, kicked, cuffed, spat on -- and no redress, but the response: served the damn son of an Irish _____ right, damn him.”
Recently I was engaged in a conversation with my wife (Colleen Donahue Witte} that started me thinking of things that had happened when we lived Duluth, MN and of dying and of graveyards.
We had bought a home on London Road in a lovely area across from Lake Superior. While we lived there we enjoyed walking along the Lake Superior shore. Very near our home was a small lovely looking cemetery situated on a slope gently leading down to a small cliff overlooking Lake Superior. We very often walked by it and at times would walk through it.
When we bought our house, the intention was to remain there for the rest of our days. I remember that I would joke that the only future move that I was going to make would just be across London Rd and down a couple of blocks. I of course was referring to the cemetery.
I remember that we wondered if burial plots were available in the nice little cemetery. I did some checking at a local funeral home and found that it was the oldest cemetery in Duluth. Further I found that lots were available and who I could contact. My wife and I talked it over and thought in the interest of planning ahead that we should look into the matter. I called the contact person and made an appointment to see what was available and the cost etc.
The man showed us four available plots and left us to consider what we would do.
I told my wife that she could choose which two to take. I recall how she would walk back and forth between the two sites which were separated by some distance. I would follow. She would ask questions such as “at which end of the site will our heads be.” She would then think some more and say something like, “This site doesn’t have as good of a view of the lake, or this one is further
away.” or “This would be the best if we could be sure that our heads would be on this end”. And on it went for about three quarters of an hour. She thought and pondered and walked and pondered and thought. Suddenly she said abruptly, “I don’t like this place!! I don’t want to be buried here!!!” I remember laughing because I knew now as then, that it was the thought of being buried that had suddenly gotten to her. I knew then that it would be best not to take her grave hunting anymore. Someone else would have to tend to that matter.
I had really wanted to get a place there and at that time was a little angry about her ways. But later I thought it was just as well because we left London Rd and moved far away. Besides the site I wanted probably required your head to be on the wrong end and “I wouldn’t get a good view of the lake”!!!.
From Winona Republican-Herald, Dec 10, 1942;
Jefferson Township is in Houston County, MN
The History of Houston County MN says thus: “The first births in the township of which there are any record were those of Michael and Patrick Donahue, twin sons of Patrick Donahue. They were born in July, 1856. Their father Patrick Donahue was one of the first three supervisors of the township.
From Thomas M Witte (apparently not related to Colleen’s Donahue family but settled in same area)