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Note: k Henry, so when the City Records building burned down, his mother asked him if he would like to change his name. Thus his middle name became Henry. His date of birth was July 23, 1882. He was baptized and raised in Nativity Parish (the same Irish parish from where the Mayor Richard Daleys' hailed) on July 30, 1882. His godparents were Ellen Mahoney and Ed Mahoney. At this time it is not known who Ellen was, but there was an Ellen Mahoney widow of Jeremiah at 120 Ferdinand on the 1870 Chicago City Directory. Ed was most likely his father's brother. His nieces and nephews called him Uncle Paddy. He grew to be 5'10 " tall and had hazel eyes & dark brown hair. He was very handsome, and favored his mother's side of the family, the Hanlons. On the 1900 census, his occupation was listed as machine apprentice, which is how he probably lost the first joint of his middle finger. He told my Grandmother that when it was cut off, men used a hot iron to cauterize the stub. As a first year nurse, she was horrified at the thought of the unsanitary conditions. He used his stub to check whether sockets were live, because the nerve endings had died. His heart was always with engineering. When he was of high school age, he found out that one of his cousins would be going to De LaSalle High School which had an excellent engineering course of study, and he decided to set his sights on the same career course. When his mother refused to let him go, he refused to attend high school. Maggie packed her son's bags, and sent him to the parish rectory to work for the priest, stoking the furnace. When the priest asked him what he wanted to do with his life, Patrick told him of his desire to become an engineer. The priest went out and gathered engineering books for him to study and my grandfather became a self-educated engineer. In the 1903 Chicago city directory, he is listed as an engineer, and was listed in all subsequent census and directories in the same manner. His first known employer was Mercy Hospital. It was there that he patented a steam fitter for a boiler at the hospital that worked better than any other that had ever been invented because it did not leak. As the boiler is outdated, it would be difficult to get a hold of the patent information especially not knowing the year it was patented.. He was hired as chief engineer by Potter Palmer at the Palmer House. He was supposed to go to work at Mendelian College, but he decided on the Palmer House instead because it had just been newly renovated. He thought it would be a better opportunity. The renovation took place between 1924 - 1927. Potter was a wealthy man who took care of his people. While doing research on our family, I found a small mention in the newspaper which read: "Potter Palmer rebuked by Justice Wallace for causing needless arrest of a guest at his house." The year was 1881. My father remembered that he always wore a white Panama suit. The following excerpts were taken from a Real Estate section of the Chicago Tribune, Sunday, September 10, 1995. The writer was Susan Bard Hall: "One of the most popular and picturesque meeting places is the lobby of the Palmer House Hilton, Chicago's oldest hotel. Since 1871, the lobby has been beckoning those who call Chicago home and those who consider it a home away from home.
"The lobby is just one element in the mix that has given the Palmer House a storied place in the history of Chicago. Work recently has been completed on the restoration of the lobby's ceiling, one of the last pieces in an ongoing renovation of the hotel that will have it looking its best in 1996.
"That's when the Palmer House Hilton, the longest continuously operating hotel in North America, will celebrate its 125th anniversary....
"The world was indeed a much different place when Potter Palmer, a 26 year old dry goods clerk from Potters Hollow, NY, came west to Chicago, then a city of 60,000, in the late 1850's.
"Palmer started his own store on Lake Street, then the prime retail area. He won the favor of his customers with his �cheap' goods and advertised bargains and the disdain of other merchants who didn't appreciate his store or his approach to business.
"He also allowed exchanges and returns, known as the �Palmer system' later the �Chicago system.' Palmer also encouraged his customers to take goods home on approval.
"Fourteen years later, he sold his store to Marshall Field, and Field's partner, Levi Leiter. Palmer then quietly purchased one of Chicago's poorer streets, State Street. He tore down the wooden shacks that lined the street, replacing them with brick and stone buildings. He also procured a variance to widen State Street to 100 feet.
"At the northwest corner of State and Quincy streets, he built an eight story hotel that cost $200,000 to construct and an additional $100,000 to furnish. A wedding gift from Potter Palmer to his wife Bertha, 23 years his junior, the Palmer opened with 225 guestrooms on September 26, 1871. Thirteen days later it fell victim to the Great Chicago Fire.
"The fire took more than the Palmer; it took Palmer's fortune. He considered retiring, but his wife told him they could build again; this time, �bigger, better and more beautiful' than before.
"Palmer sold most of the State Street property he had acquired, but kept the southeast corner of State and Monroe streets, where he planned to build �the finest hotel in the world.' The re-building began almost immediately. "Workers labored round-the-clock in order to welcome back guests on November 8, 1873 to the reopened Palmer House. Constructed of brick and iron, and with nearly three times as many guestrooms as the original structure that had stood across the street, the Palmer House claimed to be the first wholly fireproof hotel in the United States. "Between 1924 and 1927, the hotel was re-built on the same site for $20 million, an additional $20 million was spent on furnishings. Because the process was accomplished in stages, the Palmer House did not lose a single day of business. "In its nearly 125 years, the Palmer House has always borne the name of its founder. Unlike many other hotels that have experienced a chain of owners, the Palmer House Hilton has had but two: Conrad N. Hilton purchased the Palmer House from the Palmer family in December 1945 for $20 million, making it the flagship of its worldwide hotel fleet. "The land where the Palmer House currently stands was originally purchased by one Gilbert Knapp, an officer in the U.S. Army. He traded the land to a Chicago jeweler for $100 and a gold watch . . . ."
Patrick was never a high class snob, but he was fastidious. He was "just normal," as my Dad said, but his grandchildren, Patrick and Mary Ellen, remembered how genteel and quiet spoken he and my grandmother were. Mary Ellen remembered how neatly he would lay his overnight things out on the bed when he unpacked. My father once told me in a very solemn tone about how Grandpa's hair turned white overnight after his sons went into the armed services during WWII. While I was at our 1994 family reunion, imagine my amusement to hear "the rest of the story." My Aunt Pat once made a whispered comment of concern to her mother about her father's hair, and my Grandmother, most likely with a wry smile & a twinkle in her bright blue eyes informed her that he had used "Color Back" for many years before the war. He was also very prompt. My Aunt Lois regretted that if he had not been as prompt as usual when he picked her up for her train trip to California, she probably would never have made the mistake of marrying on the rebound as she did. His door was always open for his employees, and he also would stick his neck out for people if he thought it were the right thing to do. For example, the head nurse at Mercy, a nun, came to him and asked him if there were anything he could do about the whorehouse across the street from the sisters' residence. He called in a favor from a friend who was a lieutenant on the police force to see what he could do. His friend said the brothel was "protected," but he asked, "Paddy, do you really want me to do this?" When Patrick said yes, he got a bunch of cops who were not on the take, and raided the house and sealed the building. A few days later he called my grandfather saying "Paddy, I did it, but I'm not a lieutenant anymore." When my cousin, Patrick, worked as a janitor at the Palmer House part-time while going through college during the 1960's, some of the employees remembered our grandfather fondly. He wrote the following in the Family Questionnaire:
"During the summer of 1964, I had the pleasure of working nearly three months at the Palmer House in the Loop. When people learned that I was the grandson of P.M., they made sure to tell me what a wonderful man he was. He made a special effort to hire handicapped people, and they never forgot him. I felt so proud!"
Of course, his evenhandedness sometimes turned against him. One day during the depression an employee walked into his office with a story about a co-worker named Benton that my grandfather liked and admired. The employee telling the story warned my grandfather that he had overheard that Benton was going after Patrick's job, as well as some of the other men's jobs, through his connections with the Shriners. When the men heard about this man's plans, they wanted to kill him, but my grandfather intervened. He got the man fired. The man made out anyway. He was hired by the Railroad, and went up the management ladder. My grandfather was a very hard worker, and even kept a cot in his office for the nights when he would have to stay over if there were problems. Sometimes it would become too much for him, and he would get angry and/or frustrated from the workload. It was at these times that he would get in his car and drive for hundreds of miles. He would be gone for two days at a clip without even calling home, but his family knew that he needed to let out some steam. As Patrick was fortunate to have an excellent job, he made sure that his mother, sisters, and brother were financially secure. He also looked after Aunt Jenny (Hanlon) Mahoney, his cousin Miriam (Mahoney) Duffy and her daughter, Jeanne Duffy. The depression was particularly hard, but they never knew hard times because of his generosity. When my father was shipped off to war in the Pacific, my mother was already pregnant with my brother, Jack. After he was born, Patrick stopped by my maternal grandparents' apartment every day after work. My Grandmother Kubaszak could not rave enough about the way he helped them out. She said he never thought it was beneath him to change the baby's diaper or to feed him a bottle. I believe that perhaps it was very therapeutic for him to care for his little grandson, as all of his sons were away in a terrible war. Although my grandfather never served in the armed services, he was a contributor to the war effort during WWII. The Palmer's had a deluxe high rise along Lake Shore Dr., and my grandfather spent a lot of time over there during the war. He would leave the Palmer House without telling anyone what he was up to, not even his family, or where he was going. One day, he called my Dad who was then in college studying engineering, to ask him for a very special favor. He explained to my father that what he was about to ask him to do could never be told to anyone, not even his mother. P.H. had been asked to set pipes and perform other engineering projects in the Palmer estate for the government. The Palmers' had given the government their high rise as secret headquarters for the war effort. My grandfather was not good at mathematics, and he could not figure out certain measurements. He did not want his employer to find out, obviously. He was the Chief Engineer for one of the most famous hotels in the United States! He needed help in ordering supplies, so he had my father come down to measure with him the different areas. My father went home to figure the square footage, supplies, and room temperatures at their kitchen table. Every time my father told this story, his eyes filled up. He said it was the proudest moment of his life. He loved being able to help his father out. Patrick was also a great athlete, and was a particularly marvelous baseball player. He was asked to join one of the major baseball leagues in the early 1900's, but his mother proclaimed that, "No son of mine is going to associate with those dirty bums." Thus, ended a potentially lucrative and exciting career as one of the pioneers in baseball. He was an introspective man. When he was a young man, the police arrested him because he fit the description of a criminal who had just robbed someone. They subsequently beat him terribly while trying to ascertain his confession. When they realized their mistake, they apologized. At first, he was so angry with them, that he wanted to return the favor one dark night, but, as he began to think about it, he told my father, that he realized they were only trying to do their jobs - even if it was very badly. My father also described him as a man ahead of his times, not only because he was so fair-minded with his employees, but because he could see into the future. Way before a super highway was ever thought about, he predicted their existence. He could even map out where certain highways would go. My father remembered the time he predicted that a certain road would lead to a little town in the countryside, but no one believed him. As you may have guessed, he was correct. He also had an incredible sense of direction, and I was lucky enough to have inherited that trait from him. For all his amazing qualities, he did have his downside. He was very hard on his children. My father wanted to be a doctor, but my grandfather talked him into engineering. At one point, Dad was not doing well and hated his major, so he decided to quit school. My grandfather took him aside and emotionally bribed him into sticking it out by saying that my Dad was his last hope for an engineering degree in his family (my two uncles did not go to college). He also did not believe in giving gifts - not for anniversaries anyway. For my grandparents' 25th anniversary, in 1946, one of his daughters-in-law insisted that he consider giving my grandmother a very special gift to wife Lil for this landmark event, so she went out and purchased an eight piece silver-plated silver set for mother-in-law for their anniversary. This set was given to me about 20 years ago. Patrick Henry lived at the following addresses according to the available Chicago directories in the Harold Washington Library in Chicago:
1900, Wainwright, 8212 Emerald Ave. 1901, Engineer, Emerald Ave. 1902-08, Engineer, 6753 Union Ave. 1909-11, Engineer, 6440 S. Hermitage Ave. 1912, Engineer, 1709 W. 64th St. 1913-17, Chief Engineer Mercy Hospital, 2537 Peoria 1923 & 1928/29, Stationary Engineer, 7038 Yale Ave.
Patrick married, first, Ellen (Nellie) Bridget Judge (October 14, 1883), daughter of Patrick & Mary (McGovern) Judge. According to the city directories and census information, I was able to pick up the following information about this family:
1.) Patrick Judge & family lived at 15 John Place (8th Ward) from at least 1880 to his death on May 3, 1887 at about 6:00 a.m. He was a laborer born in Ireland who had been living in Illinois for 40 years at his death at the age of 60. He died from bronchial pneumonia with a contributing factor of a hemorrhage in the bladder. The attending physician was Frank C. Linden, M.D. of 778 S. Halsted. His undertaker was Thomas Blake of 67 Canalport Ave. 2.) A Mary lived with John Judge on Maplewood in the late 1890's. On the 1900 census, John, born in Scotland in 1864, was living with his wife, Nellie (born in Ireland) who was 35, and their children were as follows: Catherine, 13; Annie, 13; David, 9; John, 6, Nellie, 4, and Michael, 6 mos. 3.) Living at 15 John Place on the 1900 census were the following surviving children: Mary, 23; Thomas, 22; Kate, 20; James, 18; Nellie, 16; and Joseph, 14. There was also an Andrew Judge living at the orphanage, St. Joseph Providence, who may have been a sibling but too young to stay with the family. 4.) According to family history, one of Nellie's sisters married a man by the name of Wills.
Further data was discovered at Calvary Cemetery. On November 10, 1868, a large cemetery plot was purchased by Patrick Judge upon the death of a Julia Judge. The plot is located on the South , lot 35, Block 12, Section D. Here is the following account of the individuals buried in this plot: Julia Judge November 9, 1868 Mary E. Judge September 25, 1869 (9 months) Anne McGovern June 25, 1880 (25 years) Mary Judge October 11, 1887 Patrick Judge May 8, 1897 (60 years) William Judge October 25, 1907 Charles Wills August 20, 1908 (11 months) Mary Judge March 28, 1942 (61 years) James Francis Judge January 30, 1953 (71 years)
Patrick Mahoney (21) and Nellie (18) were married by Fr. James Frances X. Hoeffer at Sacred Heart parish located at 19th and Johnson on November 25, 1908. Their children were as follows:
Edward Joseph Mahoney born April 2, 1910. Patrick Mahoney born February 17, 1913. James Francis Mahoney born May 27, 1915.
Nellie developed breast cancer, and her death certificate attributes her death directly from cancer of the liver with a secondary, contributory factor of cancer of the breast. My grandfather broke up housekeeping and moved in with his mother, on Union Ave. when she became ill. Her doctor, J.H. Nowlin, M.D. of 6255 S. Ashland, warned my Grandfather, that there would come a day when Nellie would suddenly feel recovered, and would want to set up housekeeping again. As the doctor predicted, one day she did feel better. My grandfather and she went out to buy all new furniture, and set themselves up in an apartment at 7357 Princeton Ave. On September 9, 1918, she passed away at the age of 34 years 10 months and 16 days . She was buried on September 11, in the Patrick Mahoney burial plot in Mt. Olivet, and is located 6-0 N line 2 ft at hd. The undertaker was C.S. Kelly located at 6851 Wentworth Ave. Patrick hired Mary Davis who was born in Virginia to care for his 3 small children, and to keep the house straight. He admitted to my Grandmother that he felt he was a terrible father to these children, because he was rarely home. When he was not working, he would wander the streets, or go into the local bars. He would not get back until late. Tragedy did not wait long to strike again. One day, son Patrick begged his father to sleep over with his friend, and he contracted "lethargic encephalitis." Dr. Nolin attended little Patrick from January 15-26, 1920 when his little spirit passed on to join his mother. My grandfather told my father that he nearly lost his mind with the loss of his dear sister, wife, and son in such a short time period. There was a metal coin box which my father had at one time which belonged to his brother, Patrick, which I believe had a dog and boy on it, but it was lost in a move. The undertaker was C.S. Kelly of Wentworth Ave. His life began to change for the better, however, sometime within the following year after his son's death. There was a 30-year-old single student nurse who began her training at Mercy Hospital, who made the "mistake" of referring to my grandfather as "Patrick". A bit pompously, he quipped, that she should refer to him as "Mr. Mahoney" - he was the Chief Engineer of the hospital. As Lillian Kathryne Trost was as stubborn as her paternal German ancestors could proudly proclaim, she never again in life referred to him as Patrick; for the rest of her life she called him "P.H." I do not know the course their dating took, but my grandfather was very concerned about her reputation, so he insisted that they keep their personal relationship a secret. On May 11, 1921, he married my grandmother at St. James Church in Chicago, Illinois. Her introduction to her new family was a bit dramatic. After the ceremony, Patrick came home to his family, and introduced Lillian, someone they had never met, as "your new mother." That evening, Mary Davis, the housekeeper and surrogate mother to the boys for nearly 3 years, was dismissed. Lil and her stepson, Jimmy, got along fine probably because he was only 6 years old when she became his stepmother, and only 3 when his mother died. Ed and his stepmother experienced many difficulties along the way. Within a few months, she became pregnant. Word of her father, Eli Trost, having died on his 69th birthday came when she was about due for delivery of her first child, so the doctor forbade her to attend the funeral. My grandfather Mahoney took the journey to Philo in her place. On May 9, 1922 at Mercy Hospital, John (Jack) Eli Mahoney was born. My father told me that he was named after his mother's uncle, John Trost, and her father, Eli. Recently Pat Durkin relayed that she thought he was named after Jackie Coogan. My grandfather had really wanted a girl, so upon visiting at the hospital his wife and new son, he said, "Couldn't you have done better?" He really was happy with his new son as evidenced in one of the pictures taken of he and baby Jack. I also remember my father telling me as a child that it was snowing the day he was born. I do not have an almanac, but the story itself, if it is not true, is a reflection of the way he used to tease his children with "stories". Many of the pictures taken of the Mahoney family, I should interject, were taken by one of the first portable camera models invented for consumers. My grandparents purchased it shortly after they were married. Jack gave this camera to his son, Paul. Almost exactly 6 years later, P.H. was finally rewarded with a baby girl. Patricia Lois Mahoney was born on May 1, 1928. Lillian did not tell her son, Jack, that a new arrival was on the way, and, as he was not prepared for the little bundle, he took one look and said, "Take her back." The family took a number of trips together throughout the States, which surely was a privilege that few could afford at that time. They lived a fulfilling and normal life together, and, eventually, the children, one by one married and moved on with their own families. Patrick Henry Mahoney retired from the Palmer House with quite a gala Testimonial Banquet put together in his honor Saturday, December 18, 1948. The reception started at 7 p.m., and the dinner was served at 8 p.m. The menu included the following: Fresh Fruit Supreme, Celery & Olives, Cream of Celery Soup, Half Roast Stuffed Chicken, Rissole Potatoes, Fresh String Beans Au Gratin, Chef's Salad, Chef's Dressing, Frozen Gateau, Melba Sauce, and Coffee. His three sons were there (I was, too, as my mother was a few weeks pregnant!), but his daughter, Pat, had bought tickets for a Christmas party at Edison and was unable to attend her father's retirement dinner. He also worked a short time in real estate after he tried to "supervise" my grandmother's housekeeping. Eventually, they decided to move out to Arcadia, California. They followed their long time friends, Mr. and Mrs. Bliss. They purchased a trailer close to their friends which was located at 4241 East Live Oak. He must have loved it in California, because when my Aunt was having a difficult time with her second delivery in February 1953 (Michael was about a month premature), my grandmother insisted that they drive to Chicago so she could be with her daughter. They arrived in record time, and, when my grandfather was assured that the baby was fine, he informed my grandmother that he and the car were leaving for California the next day, and she could stay or accompany him as she wished. He suffered two heart attacks before the end of his life, and visited Chicago about two additional times before he died. The one time is the only memory I have of him. I believe it must have been during a warm season of the year, because the sun was shining brightly into our house, and I believe my grandmother was wearing a cotton dress. He and my father were discussing how my Dad should proceed with the construction of the second level of our house, and a pesky 4 year old girl kept interrupting them. My grandfather told me to look down the hole in the stairway landing for the elephants that were inside. When I told him there were no elephants inside, he told me they had gone downstairs. I guess his psychology worked, because I eventually got tired of those elusive elephants wandering between floors before I could catch them, and wound up sitting in the living room with my grandmother. The last time he was in Chicago, it was for his sister's funeral; Aunt Kitty who died on January 1, 1954. The following March, he asked my grandmother to let his pants out because he had gained some weight. He also told her how nice it was that he did not seem to have to get up so often in the middle of the night. Unfortunately, these were signs of uremic poisoning, which upon reflection, my grandmother figured out too late. When he was in the hospital and very ill, his children were called. He forbade my father to fly out to see him because my mother was eight+ months pregnant with my sister, Maureen. My Uncle Jimmy and Uncle Ed flew out in separate planes upon Ed's insistence; he was concerned about who would take care of all of their children if the plane should go down. Patrick Henry Mahoney died on April 22, 1954. I remember asking my father, as he was tying my hat strings under my chin too tightly, why we were up so early the morning his casket was due to come in with the train. He told me that Grandpa Mahoney had died, and we had to pick Grandma up from the train station. He also said that Grandpa would not want us to be sad, and we should not talk about it anymore. His obituary read as follows: Patrick H Mahoney, formerly of 10204 St. Lawrence Ave., beloved husband of Lillian Trost Mahoney, fond father of Edward J., James F., John E. Mahoney & Patricia Durkin, brother of the late Jerry & Dora Mahoney, Margaret and Kathryne O'Connor. Funeral home at 69th and Justine Sts. Funeral Thursday 8:45 a.m. to St. John Baptist De LaSalle Church, 102nd & Vernon Ave. Interment Holy Sepulchre. What an interesting man passed our way. The world is a better place for his visit
Note: Patrick Henry Mahoney was born and baptized Patrick Dennis Mahoney. Paddy's hero was Patric
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