35 Years Ago

It was on this date, 35 years ago that my mother, Mary Jeanne Sweeney Hovel, passed from life on this earth. She was born in Chicago, IL on 1 October 1923 to an Irish father and a German mother. Mom was a product of the neighborhoods in which she was raised. After schooling, and time for discernment, she would marry and then venture a few hours north to make her home with her husband in Sun Prairie, WI. She, and my Dad, were part of the Greatest Generation, which not only saw the US through a horrible conflict, but would forever change the course of our world. They, and other members of their generation, would see a rapid change in the built and social environment of the nation. With others of that generation, they would produce a demographic tsunami the consequences of which we see in our economy to this day. Mom and Dad produced their share of that demographic tidal wave, by having ten offspring. Their first child was born in 1948, just days into the new year; their last child would be born in the fall of the last year (i.e. 1964) recognized as the baby boom generation. In between in 1957 the largest population cohort of the baby boomers would be born, and so to with our family as Mom gave birth to twins. (But for my brother wanting more space and pushing me out, we were to have been born in 1958.)  Thus, the family would span the breadth of the baby boom generation. We became part of the great American experiment that changed our land use, would alter the nation's social mores, and in so doing change the fabric of the nation. In our family we were a mix of ancestry—German, Bohemian, and Irish. A combination now not unknown.

Leo Sweeney Family

However, in early 20th century America, the mix of ancestry of was in its early stages. While the US is often thought of as a melting pot, it was more of a stew, as ethnic enclaves were formed from large cities to small towns. These urban enclaves, began forming in the mid-19th century and continued into the first part of the 20th century. What resulted was a social, political and religious environment that would form the values of generations. Mom's values were formed in a big city, but my Dad’s values were formed by his growing up on a farm next to small communities in Iowa and Wisconsin. While there were marked differences in the built environments from which they arose, both had some crucially shared values of faith and family. These elements would dominate their life not only growing up, but in raising their own family.

Mary Jeanne Sweeney

Historians and urban sociologists tell us that in a number of large urban centers, particularly in the northeast and Midwest, neighborhoods were identified not by their polity, but by their neighborhood Catholic Church. Putnam and Campbell say that even non-Catholics would identify their neighborhood by that Catholic parish.  The church served not only as the religious center, but also as the social center and welfare center. One example in mass media is in the movie “Cinderella Man.” When James Braddock was fighting Max Baer, the neighborhood residents gathered in the parish church to listen to the fight on the radio. This was the depression era, and the church was the unifying institution on which people depended. Today, the German and Irish have moved on from the neighborhoods in which they, or their ancestors, were formed and with that move certain bonds and values were affected.

For some reason, even though my mother was half German and half Irish she identified more with the Irish side. You never saw her, or really anyone, celebrate St. Boniface day.  But, she did celebrate St. Patrick’s day. Perhaps it was that the German’s became more of just another ethnic group, whereas the trials which the WASP nation put the Irish through was a different matter. Ireland was dominated by the English, and so the ruling and dominant Anglo class in the US would make life for the Irish in the US less than desirable. This of course had the effect of drawing the Irish closer to their own kind, and to the neighborhoods and the one institution they shared in common—the Catholic Church. My mother would be educated at Catholic schools. My father’s family moved from rural Iowa to Sun Prairie so he could be educated at Catholic schools as well.  Even though one was raised on a farm in rural Wisconsin and the other in the then second largest city in the nation, they had common values.

Mary Jeanne and Roy Hovel

My mother would give birth to and raise ten children. She would bear the heartache of having lost a son in a tragic accident when he was only 4 years of age. As much anguish as that loss produced, I cannot help but think she was also pushed beyond her chronological age by other events. She was pushed by ten births, She was pushed by many other pregnancies which were only part-term. Maybe she was also pushed through the actions of her prodigy. As much laughter as the stories of the antics bring in later years, they probably were not very funny at the time, at least to her. Although I am sure my Dad found some of them quite funny. After all it was my Dad who caught on his movie camera a fight between my two oldest brothers.  While Mom is screaming for them to stop, my Dad has his Kodak movie camera moving around the action.  The most surprising thing is that one of my brothers did not slug him.  We would often hear the comment from Mom..."Oh, Bernard that is not funny!”  Other antics were more than my brother wearing his short tails out. Or, my Dad bringing a pony up the steps into the back hall. They were antics not totally uncommon to boys and girls of the age, but the antics tended to be multiplied by the mere fact that there were ten children, of which there were seven sons before a daughter.  We proved the adage that boys will be boys.

Being self-employed my Dad was at work quite often. He worked long hours, particularly during tax season when he would return to the office for a few more hours of work each night. As was not uncommon, he was also immersed in various civic and church groups. My mom ran the household. Again, that was not unusual for the day. It was a different era than that seen by the helicopter parents of today. We walked to school, we walked or biked to visit friends. We climbed trees and played in the creek. We would be set outside during the summer only to return for lunch and dinner. Of course, many of our activities were in our large yard, if not within a few blocks. We got hurt, but we survived, even if few stitches were required. We (or me) built ramps on which we would ride our bikes, and then would place pedal cars and tractors and try and jump over those too. It was not unlike what was in “Sandlot” or other movies representing life of an era and childhood that as we age we tend to look back on with fondness rather than enmity. Mom’s life was the care and well-being of her children. She was not a helicopter parent, but was sufficiently present to provide necessary guidance. Of course, she had eyes in the back of her head. Her mother’s intuition was very strong. Her life likely mirrored many other mothers of the day. Having grown up in an urban area, she would raise her family in the suburban culture as Sun Prairie moved from a rural farming community to a suburb of Madison.

Mom and Dad

She was a city girl that appreciated the five acres her large boisterous brood had available to roam. In Sun Prairie today, my lone brother to live in Sun Prairie notes, the term “are you one of the Hovel boys” is still asked of him. Perhaps less common than 35 or 50 years ago, but it is still present. In a then version of Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram, her phone network often had her hearing of some the antics of a child before they returned home. It was a small town where you really could not get away with anything. The words we did not want to hear were “Wait to your Father gets home.” Although her punishment was often more exacting than his. Yet, it was still the threat. Not unlike what the Barone boys saw between Marie and Frank in some of the stories told on “Everybody Loves Raymond.” We would go to church Sunday mornings at 9:00 am. Sunday was my Mom’s morning off from kitchen work, as my Dad would do the cooking—generally pancakes and bacon or sausage. Of course, the young two being spoiled had bunny shaped pancakes, with chocolate chips for eyes.  Her life was one of service, primarily to her children. Her success was not measured in the deals she cut, the money she made, or some other common measure of success. Rather, her success was in raising a large family.  She was quite self-less, not after for her own personal gain, but rather the gain of her family. Yet, her actions moved beyond the family.  When friends needed assistance she was there.  She was well practiced in the lost art of letter writing.

The institutions in her Chicago neighborhood that were important to her have been in decline. Mobility has altered the way we live; our form of development has helped to decrease the importance of some of the institutions on which families of her growing years depended. These institutions have been significantly damaged by a variety of forces, some self-inflicted. Today, it is often not the common good which is important to a person, but rather what an individual can get for him or herself. The individual nature, rather than individuals forming a collective consciousness, can be seen in many different facets of what we refer to as our post-modern world. In their basic form, institutions are a collection of persons with a common interest, which should work to advance the common good.

Tombstone in Sacred Hearts Cemetery, Sun Prairie, WI

Times have changed between my mother’s childhood in Chicago and when she raised her own family. Times have changed between my being raised and my current age. Of course, we should not expect things to not change, life would be rather dull and boring if it did not change. Yet, the aspect of community, our "common home," seems to be less important as individualism takes hold. Individualism can be good, individual activity can drive advances, but like all things, it needs to be tempered by some other aspect, and that aspect is community.  My mother showed the true value of caring for others.  A value instilled by the family and larger community of which she was apart.  She understood the value of the common good, and the role an individual plays to assist the larger institution or community in which they participate.   She would understand the comment by St. Thomas Aquinas who (as quoted recently by Martin O'Malley) wrote: “Any seeker of a higher truth or of God, must eventually and inevitably come back to the idea of community.” As time has lingered, some of the memories I had of her have unfortunately diminished.  Yet, the lessons learned, and virtues formed through the institutions that formed me, including the family unit, continue to inform.