Celebrating Two Years of braidwoodguy.com

“The unexamined life is not worth living.”

Socrates

It was two years ago when I published my first blog article:  https://braidwoodguy.com. I had kept journals for many years prior to that time when it occurred to me that my handwritten documents might be worth saving for my kids and grandkids. I knew that any letters written by my late parents, grandparents, and ancestors had been valuable resources in genealogical research. Why not convert the journal writing to computer files where they could be easily accessed?

My good friend and former colleague, Allan Service, took the idea even further. He suggested that a “blog” might be a good vehicle for promulgating these former journal entries. What is a “blog?” I did some research and, with my son Tom’s help, developed my own blogsite. Currently, I have posted a total of 99 blog articles in this two-year journey. (This is #100.)

The following is an except from that first blog post on October 26, 2018.

Still Just a Braidwood Boy

Everyone has a story. One of my greatest pleasures is to engage in a conversation with a total stranger, at the coffee shop culture, in an airplane, on the bench in the mall, wherever the opportunity presents itself. These strangers tell me their stories.

This story, however, is about my experiences over my lifetime. It is intended primarily for me and my family but may be of interest to others who have led lives that don’t hit the news media but nonetheless could be similar. Like most of you, my peak experiences are more numerous then my depressions, but neither qualify as momentous in the eyes of the public at large. Given the time and inclination, many others could tell personal stories that are far more interesting than mine.

For many years, family and job obligations – usually self-imposed – have prevented serious and regular reflections. But over the past 20 years, I have found myself to be paying closer attention to reflection time and to document those reflections.

Braidwood, Illinois

If you were to look at an Illinois map, you can find Braidwood along I-55 just 20 miles southwest of Joliet. With a population of approximately 1,200 in 1950, Braidwood would not qualify for special recognition on a map of United States but would rate some mention in regional journals because it was the birthplace of some historical, newsworthy individuals. Anton Cermak, a mayor of Chicago in the 1930s, worked as a youngster in the coal mines. You might remember that Cermak was killed in an assassination attempt on federal FDR in 1933 while in a car caravan in Florida. John Mitchell, a United mine workers leader whose statue stands in Scranton PA, had similar work experiences as a youngster in the mines during the early 1900s.

While diversity was hardly evident in most towns the size of Braidwood, there were some distinct resident populations in the city. Imported from West Virginia in the late 1878, Black mine laborers got off the train in Braidwood to work the mines during a strike situation. Mine owners may have been remiss in not telling them that they would be strikebreakers, but only told them of employment opportunities. By the 1940s and 50s, several descendants were still living in Braidwood.

(For more Braidwood history, please refer to two excellent articles via the Coal City Library: https://ccpld.org/coalmining/braidwood/braidwood_brawling.html Tales from Brawling Braidwood, by Sandi Vasko 2001, and http://www.illinoislaborhistory.org/labor-history-articles/early-days-of-coal-mining-in-northern-illinois, by Dick Joyce.)

My entry into the world in general, and to Braidwood in particular, occurred on October 8, 1940. Dad was a farm kid from near Wilmington/Symerton and mom was raised between Wilmington and Elwood in a house that had route 66 in the front yard and the railroad in the backyard. Mom’s father worked for the pumping station near Elwood.

I find it impossible to separate myself from my early Braidwood years. In fact, Braidwood is more a part of my conscious self than ever before. Small town streets, stores, houses, employers, and people represented not only my early years; they were the foundation for my entire life. 

The People of Braidwood

Of far more importance to me than the features and characteristics of Braidwood and its surrounding towns, were the people. I assume that every small town has a cast of characters but only later in life did I realize their importance and their distinctiveness. As I grew up, I took them for granted. They weren’t special at that time, but I now realize how unique and significant they were to me. Because I delivered the Herald-News to a wide population in town, I became acquainted with them as I delivered papers and collected money. 

Beside my own immediate family, there were several other influential people who strongly shaped me in early years. Mary and Olaf Dahl, with their children Mary and Joe, were half a block away. Living next to the baseball field afforded me the chance to play baseball with many kids my age in the 1940s and 1950s. 

Across the street from our house on Walker Street, Mrs. Sarah Jeffrey lived and became an alternate grandmother to me. She also became a guiding star and mentor for mom. Mom’s mother had died when mom was only 23 years of age, so she did not have a mother relationship during a critical period when she had children. Beside Mrs. Jeffrey, mom seemed to have had few close friends that I was aware of. Her sewing business came in her later years so most women with whom she talked were relatives. Aunts Helen, June, Mary, Kate, and Alice – all sisters – provided a core group that sporadically enjoyed one another’s company. 

Other influences came through my father. “TJ” as he was known to his friends was popular and gregarious. I rubbed shoulders with his friends on various job sites, restaurants, and bars. They played cards, drank coffee or beer, told jokes, and worked. T.J.’s friends helped form a young boy’s philosophy of, and outlook on, a life that provided the basis for future actions. That, together with mom’s less cynical, but equally effective, view of the world formulated my approach to a life that would later be complemented and expanded by a singular giant, Coach Gordie Gillespie. 

In addition to the camaraderie of T.J.’s friends, I learned compassion and personal sacrifice from mom. T.J.’s friends weren’t compassionless, but their strong traits were more collegial for the most part and coupled with competitiveness. It was mom who wanted my sister and me to take music lessons, an expense that our family could ill afford. It was mom who pushed us into the Catholic schools, and thereby set us in the direction that forced us to think outside our narrow geographic boundaries. It was mom who influenced me to grow beyond a limited career path. But it was dad who never let me forget our roots.

The combination of Adele and T.J. formed a balanced foundation for a son entering into high school in 1954. My tendency at that time was to follow the more structured reverential path of my mother, but echoes of T.J.’s voice rattled around my mind until they surpassed my mother’s more faith-filled approach.

Lessons Learned

• Given the same opportunities as wealthy people such as educational and networking opportunities, Braidwood folks would do as well or better than those who had more opportunities.

• Braidwood has seen more than its share of extraordinary athletes, historical figures, other talented people.

• My world started with Braidwood, was extended later to include Wilmington, and then was further extended by age 15 to Joliet. Some of my friends never got beyond that and are probably just as happy. (Maybe more so.)

• As I learned later, Braidwood was the community that formed me, and I am grateful being “just a Braidwood boy.”

Top Row L-R:Dad with a pheasant; Dad’s buddy, Al Crater; Mary Dahl Reilly with us kids; Mary with my sister Carole Ann. Bottom Row L-R: Mary and me; Dad, Kenny, and Mrs. (Grandma) Jeffrey at my wedding.