The Callans and McClarys, by John Edward Callan - Callanworld

ecame Al Callan’s grandmother.
More about her in the
next chapter.
Mary Mary Mary McGivern McGivern stayed in
Newcastle,” says her nephew,
Jack Callan. “She married a
German guy who beat her up so
she divorced him,” Jack says.
Teresa Teresa Teresa McGivern McGivern was
Gert’s younger sister. She was
the spitting image of Gert, but
ten times as funny. During
World War II, she moved to
California to take a job building
B-29 bombers in the Long
Beach airplane factories. After
the war, when the jobs were
given back to returning male
veterans, she stayed on in California,
marrying a worker in the
same factory. Al Callan and his
brother John Callan visited
Teresa in California in1989. She
was living in Orange County at the
time.
We arrived for our visit at
about 3 pm on a Saturday afternoon.
While her husband hung
out in the living room, watched the
news and eventually went to bed
without uttering a peep, Aunt
Teresa told McGivern stories
until well after midnight, regaling
Al and John with more and mores
stories, much like the one that
follows, even as we walked out to
our car, started up the engine and
drove away.
She had an infectious raucus,
laugh and a somewhat ribald sense
of humor. She emphasized every
punch line in her stories by
slapping her hand on the kitchen
table, rocking back on her chair
and then slowly wiping the tears of
laughter from her eyes.
As was said above, Jim was
one of the solders who chased
Rommell across the desert, and
his brother Eugene had paratrooped
into war zones numerous
times. Neither son was one to
shrink from a fight, whether it
enveloped the world, or simply
made him take a half-step out of
his intended path across a bar
room. They had walked across
Europe for four years, freezing
and fighting, and both had survived
a fight with 600,000 Nazis at
the Battle of the Bulge. That
background gives some perspective
to the letter that follows.
In Monday, February 20,
1956, Jim, Eugene and Herb all
happened to be visiting Newcastle,
for reasons unknown at this time.
On that evening, the three boys,
and their sisters Mary and Teresa,
all decided to go out for a drink.
In the following letter, which Mary
wrote to her sister Gert (Al
Callan’s grandmother) a week
later, we see the McGiverns in all
their glory, nearly a half-dozen
drinking, brawling, smart-alecky
brothers and sisters out for a night
on the town.
The envelope for this letter is
post-marked Newcastle, Penn.
Feb Feb 27, 27, 1956.
1956.
Dearest Dearest Gert,
Gert,
I don’t know whether this
will be a book or a letter.
I have so much to tell you
and so little time to do it in. I just
finished ironing and I am
bushed. I washed Friday night
and ironed all day yesterday and
two hours this morning.
Mom is doing real good but
I am having an awful time with
her. She wants to do the washing
and ironing. I am going to have
to hide parts of the washer and
get the ironing done in the
morning.
Then she gets mad. I am
going to have to talk to Shoaff
(the family doctor) tonight and
have him lay the law down.
All our troubles started a
week ago tonight. You can read
this out loud to Francis and Lil
because I think they will enjoy it.
About eleven o’clock Monday
night, before Gene took Jim to
the airport, the five of us decided
to go to Keefe’s for a last drink.
Of course, Gene and I
ordered a coke. At a quarter to
twelve, Gene left to pick up
Dorothy.
We waited until quarter to
one and left. Gene was waiting
outside for us. Gene, Teresa,
and I went a head, and Jim and
Herb were right behind us.
I forgot, I must go back to
Monday morning.
Jim and Herb were downtown
and crossing Mill Street at
North, when a car came around
the corner and almost hit Jim.
While he was standing on the
curb. He was scared. It hit his
topcoat, but he didn’t do anything.
Feb Feb Feb 28, 28, 1956
1956
As we were walking down
the street, a car came tearing out
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The Callans and McClarys
fo the alley and Jim had to pull
Herb back, or he would have
been hit. As they walked around
the corner, Jim tapped on the
fender and said, “Going kind of
fast there, weren’t you neighbor?”
The man got of out of the
car and said, “What are you
going to do about it.”
As he finished the sentence,
Jim gave him a right to the jaw
and knocked him across the
alley. As he bounced back, Herb
gave him the back of his hand on
the nose. The guy started to run,
and the five of us after him. We
got him out in the middle of Mill
Street, and dragged him back,
and Jim dropped his watch and
picked it up. The fellow got away
again and we caught him at
Washington Street. With Herb
and Jim swearing like a couple of
sailors.
After he got to Washington
Street he said he was going to get
a cop, so we showed him where
there was one and waited until
he came back with one.
As they crossed the street
the guy said, “First of all officer I
want you to know that they are
nothing but a bunch of drunken
bums.”
Then Herb started all over
again. I had to hold him back. I
told him that Jim would never
make his plane if they kept this
up. So the cop wanted to know
what it was all about, but
couldn’t’ make heads nor tails of
it, because everybody was talking
at once.
This man kept insisting that