Monday, February 2, 2015

Mrs. Brock A Family Story

My Irish great-grandmother, Bertha, and my Croatian great grandfather, Frano, married in 1890, and had six children. Three of their babies died, twin boys who lived only 7 months, and a little girl who died at 2. Bertha was heartsick when she lost her babies, and then when she was only 29 she was blinded in a horrific attack on the streets of Chicago. She became severely depressed and spent a long time in the Cook Country Insane Asylum, a state hospital for the poor. Eventually she recovered from her depression, but that was not for many years.

This was 1902. Daycare did not exist, so Frano took his three children to an orphanage. My grandfather was only 5, and this is what he said about that day: “We lined up and kissed our papa, who walked out the door and left us with the nuns. He promised to visit every Sunday. I clung to the hands of my brother and sister, squeezing hard, trying not to cry. I could not believe this was happening. It was the saddest day of my life.”

My grandfather, named after English poet John Milton, grew up in the orphanage. It was called Angel Guardian. It is still there today –Misericordia- (at Devon and Ridge in Chicago). Angel Guardian was run by an order of nuns called the Poor Handmaids of Jesus Christ.

John Milton graduated from grade school and high school, and for a while studied to become a priest, but changed his mind when he met my grandma. Instead, he graduated from DePaul University, became a teacher and had two daughters, one of whom was my mother.

And what happened to Bertha and Frano? Bertha was taught Braille at the state institution and put to work making brooms. She had a bible printed in Braille which she read every day. When her daughter Frances grew up and married, she took Bertha out of the asylum. She was 81 when she died of a stroke. Frano did many jobs. He developed kidney disease and died when he was 54 in the year 1922.





1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Mrs. Brock. I really enjoyed reading this, and the beautiful pictures you included. We share an Irish heritage as my grandmother also is from Ireland. She came from a small town near Belfast, and left as a small child with her brother to meet her father who had immigrated to Boston. They traveled by boat alone as their mother died suddenly, and were watched over by one of the other passengers. I am amazed by the resilience and stories of strength and hope posted here.