Mother of Boomers

On this date, one hundred and one years ago, October 1, 1923, my mother was born. Born in Chicago, she was proud of her paternal Irish heritage. It was almost like her mother's German heritage did not much matter, and that she was 100% Irish. Mom died on 23 Sep 1980, less than a week shy of her 57th birthday. Even though she struggled with varied health issues for the last years of life, her death was still a shock. She was the mother of ten baby boomers.

Freshman Yearbook College photo, 1942 

I was in graduate school at the UW, and after a slate of classes that Thursday in 1980, I made my way to St Mary's Hospital where mom had been for a couple days. There was the usual hospital smell, and scurrying of nurses, nurses aids and even some doctors. I once saw a doctor show on television, and while some medical professionals had a conversation at the nurse's station, the background had a group of people walking to the right as you viewed the screen. Then, the same group, in reverse order, walked to the left. I guess it was to make the hospital seem busy. A real hospital seems much more chaotic. I went up to floor she was on only to find her room empty. I looked around, and all the nurses were busy, as was the nurses station. I walked around a bit to see if she switched rooms. Not seeing her, and not wanting to impose on the busy staff I called home using a pay phone, remember this is 1980, and my Dad answered the phone. I asked if mom had gone home, and that when he simply said, "She died today." It was a long drive home in rush hour traffic. Something in my mind told me to call home, and  I was glad that I did because it was better hearing the news from dad, even it was over the phone, and not from a nurse or someone at the nurse's station. My subconscious self seemed to know what had occurred before my conscious self did.

1945 College Senior Year photo

Born at Englewood Hospital, her original birth certificate has all boxes filled but the one for her given name. Perhaps her parents were  not expecting a girl and they did not have a girl's name picked out, or could not agree on one. Irish tradition would have had her named after her mother's mother, i.e. grandmother Reiner, which would be Franziska (Frances). Her mom was German and probably could care less about the Irish tradition. Being Catholic, they chose to honor the Virgin Mary. Where her middle name, Jean, came from, I do not know. A supplemental birth certificate was filed a few days later providing the name: "Mary Jean."

Mom's Parents, Leo F Sweeney and 
Amanda (nee Reiner) Sweeney
Parents of both were immigrants to the US

After the birth of seven boys my mom had her first daughter, Mary Bernadette. Not thinking that the man provides the X or Y chromosome, if he even cared, the story is my dad said to my mom, "So, you went and had a girl." A second girl would follow, and then the family was complete with the baby brother, Peter. 

Mom and Dad Wedding photo

Having ten children, including eight boys, the first four were born within four years and ten months of each other, two of my most vivid recollections revolved around her doing laundry and cooking. It seemed that every day, there was laundry, particularly with non-disposable diapers at the time, which was a good amount. I figure well over half of mom's married life involved a child in diapers. Laundry was hung out on the line when weather permitted. Mom used wooden poles in the middle of each line to help hold the line up from the weight of the clothes. The cotton rope always seemed to stretch. There were piles of laundry for each child on the family room table. She was amazingly quick and good at folding clothes, a technique I have never learned well.

Mom and son Steve, c July 1948

Then there was food, which was piled endlessly on the table. The custom made kitchen table was wider than normal to help hold all the food. The milkman would daily bring gallons of milk. My neighbor complains about the amount of food her now sophomore high school son eats, and another only a few years away, but that is little compared to the appetite of the Hovel boys. There are appetites, and then there are Hovel appetites. My mom once told me that the hardest adjustment she had to make as the older boys moved out leaving fewer kids at home, with the rest off to college or grown, was cooking for a smaller number of people. 

As a mom she was always worried about her children. Even when they were adults. One Sunday morning at breakfast my mom was concerned that my brother John had not come home that night. I was out Saturday night with some friends at Lums on Madison's east side, and who walked in but John and a girl, who would later become his wife. Mom was really fretting over little Johnny (John, who was the fourth in line, had a nickname "Runt" given to him by the three older siblings). I did not really want to say anything, so as to get him in any trouble, although he was in graduate school at the time. But, she went on and on. I realized I had to put her mind at east. So, under my breath I said "I saw him last night." I was asked what I had said, so I then said: "I saw him late last night at Lums and he was with a girl." That put an end to the conversation, except for my Mom saying, "Well, then, I guess he is okay." I was looking down to grab part of a pancake so not sure if my dad smiled and my mom frowned. 

My older Hovel siblings
Back (l to R): Mike, Joe, Steve
Front (l to r): Leo, John

With all of the antics completed by my older siblings, mom had pretty much experienced everything.  Luckily, Sun Prairie was still a small town. On the other side there was boring me. My twin brother, Greg, would tell his two children "Uncle Tom" bed time stories. From what I can recall they clamored for the bed time stories about Uncle Tom so they could get fast to sleep. This shows the range of personalities in the family.

Having watched my wife parent our two boys over the years, and yes worry about them, I have come to the conclusion that mothering is more similar than dissimilar, even with generational difference. A mother's worry about her children never ends. 

Mom at Christmas 1949
with sons Joe and Steve

Mom was raised by a first generation German-American mother, I have to think things were pretty strict in the Sweeney household. Yet, I never knew mom to be overly strict. I wonder if by the time the later children came along she was worn out and the young kids, when I was old enough to observe and recollect (although my twin brother Greg remembers pretty much everything from his birth on), got away with more than we middle children did. I do recall I was not allowed to do homework in front of the TV, it was often done in the bedroom, or, less frequently, at one of two built-in desks in the family room (dad designed the house which was occupied in April 1958). My parents had no qualms about our youngest brother doing his homework in front of the TV. He did have good grades which perhaps made them wonder why bother. I am not sure of the cause and effect since he was also the baby of the family. Showing that demoralizing nicknames were not limited to our older brothers, one of us, or in concert with each other (that being me, Greg and Mary B) gave our youngest sibling the nickname of Nene Tarde (late baby). Often shortened to Nene. I have to think that households with a limited number of children miss out on some antics that occurred in families with more children. It was not unusual for a person in our family to have more than one nickname--one provided by the older boys, and another from the younger half of the family. 

My mom's parents (as did my dad's) saw that all their children received a college education. My mom attended high school at St Mary's in Prairie du Chien (where she was valedictorian) and then Mount Mary College in Milwaukee. Both girl only schools. One thing I recall, was how well my mom shot the bow and arrow, a skill from her days at girl schools. It was a golden era of Catholic education, when nuns and priests were abundant which reduced the labor costs for educators. My mom was destined to be a teacher until that day when my dad proposed. She met my dad while visiting a classmate from St Mary's, my dad's sister Anita. She was likely in Sun Prairie to visit her aunt who taught 7th and 8th grade at Sacred Hearts in Sun Prairie, and took the time to visit Anita at the farm just north of town. 

Mom was winner in K of C High School
essay contest. This May 1941 letter is from the dean at
Mount Mary to KC State Deputy thanking for notification
Mom would end up attending Mount Mary, and graduated in 1945

What occurs to me is that this is a quintessential American story. My mom's grandparents immigrated to the US from the 1850's to the 1870's; this made her parents first born Americans. The marriage was between a 100% German woman and a 100% Irish man in Chicago shows the American melting pot. Mom lived and grew up on the southside of Chicago, in an area populated by Al Capone's mother, and made famous by James Farrell's Studs Lonigan trilogy. Her paternal grandfather worked in a packing house (the meat industry which received much disdain), and her dad for his brother, a butcher, which show the nation at the industrial revolution. Her dad would be released from that position during the great depression, and would later help publish the first book on the Rhythm Method of birth control. The American story continues with a former GI, from a farm family, and now in the professional class, in southern Wisconsin marrying a big city girl. They had a large family at a time when large families, while not the norm, were not necessarily uncommon. This mirrors the change from the farm economy to the professional and service economy. The marriage produced ten baby boom era children over almost the full range of baby boom birth years, as the children were born from January 1948 to September 1964. 

Sweeney Family photo, c 1910
Mom's grandpa is man kneeling in black suit, her dad is boy to the right
 Mom's grandmother is sitting with white shirt. 

Of the ten children all but one would grow to adulthood. The remaining nine all married, and all the boys would have children of their own. My brother Leo, who was between John, and me and Greg, died at the age of four when hit by a car along USH 51 in McFarland. My mom may have never really recovered from this tragic event. The loss and anguish was expressed in letters to her youngest brother and to this day evince the depth of her immense heartache. As a mother she experienced the range of emotions from the death of one child, to seeing the marriage of four sons, and the birth of one grandchild. 

Mom grieved and worried, but she always persevered and worked for the betterment of the family. Regardless of the antics of many of my siblings, or perhaps in spite of that, she raised children that would all be good productive members of society. She sacrificed for her children. There may be no greater love than that of a mother for her children. And, in this case, all of her baby boomer children, three of whom are in heaven with her and dad.

Photo credit: Yearbook photos from Mount Mary College Yearbooks. All others from family archives.