Henry James & Mary Lousiana Paul
On August 12, 1880, James Temple Paul and his wife Charlotte, celebrated the arrival of their second son, James Henry Paul. James Henry? Yes, at some point he switched the arrangement and became Henry James Paul.
27-year-old James Temple and 22-year-old Charlotte lived with James Temple’s mother and father on their Polk County farm. Their first child, George Darr Paul, had been born in 1878. Another son, Samuel Euclid would be born in 1883, followed by their only daughter, Nannie Marella, in 1886. Three years later, Arthur Temple Paul, their last child arrived.
James and Charlotte moved their family to 503 North Central Street in Cleveland, TN. Around 1898 Henry graduated from Cleveland High School, and got a job in E. Bancroft’s grocery store, where, among other tasks, he got to drive their horse-drawn delivery wagon. His mother Charlotte died in 1903, at age 45. He remained at E Bancroft’s until 1905, when he decided he wanted to move to Baltimore. Family lore has it that he was at that time engaged to two different girls, and that the move north was his solution to this dilemma.
Mary Lousiana Dooley was born March 25, 1888, to John Francis and Martha Tomasa Dooley. Mary was the fourth of their nine children, three of whom died in infancy. Her mother, Martha, was born Martha Tomasa Vellines on February 14,1862 . The Vellines family homestead was in Isle of Wright, Virginia. Her father John Francis was born in 1859. He had two brothers and one sister. His father Michael Dooley was born in Ireland.The Dooleys were living in Virginia when John and Martha met and fell in love.They married on January 29, 1883, when John was 24 and Martha was 21. They moved to Baltimore where John worked as a plumber. Their first child, Agnes arrived on December 19 of that same year. A son John, Jr was born in 1885 and a daughter, Theresa, in 1886, They both died before they were a year old. Another daughter, Stella, followed Mary in 1889, but she died when she was seven. Their next daughter, Martha Tomasa, arrived in December of 1890. Two years later James Thomas was born in July. Two more years passed before Anna Jane was born on January 29. William Benton, their ninth and last child was born October 24, 1896.
Early in 1897 John Francis Dooley got a sliver of metal, from a plumbing pipe he was cutting, imbedded in his neck. It became infected, and on March 17th he died. He was 38 years old. Martha was suddenly a widow at age 36, with six children, no source of income for food, clothing or shelter, and no relatives nearby to turn to. Benton, their youngest, was only five months old.
As so often happened in cases such as this, Martha had no choice but to place most of her children in a Catholic-operated orphanage. The four girls, Agnes then 14, Mary, 9, Tomasa, 7, and Jane, 3, were together in a female orphanage. James Thomas,who was almost 5 went to an orphanage for boys until he was school age, then he was sent to the Xaverian Brothers-operated St. Mary’s Industrial School on the corner of Wilkins & Caton Ave. Benton undoubtedly stayed with his mother until he was old enough to be placed in an orphanage. He did eventually go to St. Mary’s Industrial School.
The Dooley sisters did not have an easy time of it in this orphanage. Some of the nuns were particularly harsh and even cruel.They formed a close bond with each other that would last the rest of their lives. In 1900 10 year old Martha Tomasa Dooley left the orphanage when she was legally adopted by Judge Maynard French Styles and his wife Ellen Field Stiles.
The same year George Studebaker and his wife Cate, who had no children of their own, came to the orphanage in search of a girl they could adopt. 12 year old Mary was selected and went to live with them as a foster daughter with the understanding that they would legally adopt her, if everything went as expected. Unfortunately they never got around to making the adoption official. This hurt Mary, who later said that she felt that they were more interested in having a maid and housekeeper, than a daughter.
Mary’s stay with the Studebakers took an unexpected turn in 1905 when Cates nephew, the son of her late sister Charlotte, Henry Paul arrived from Tennessee. Apparently the two engaged girls he left behind in Cleveland, were soon completely forgotten.
At 4 PM on Saturday June 9, 1906, The Paul-Dooley nuptials, as reported in the Cleveland Journal and Banner, took place in Westminster Church 325 11th Street, Washington, DC. Reverend T. E. Davis performed the ceremony. Their honeymoon consisted of a two-week visit in the west, according the Cleveland paper. On August 11, 1906, the newlyweds took a boat ride to Tolchester Beach on the eastern shore.Then they set up housekeeping at 722 Gilmore Street in Baltimore, which may have been an apartment. According the same article, Henry at that time held “a responsible position with the Maryland Rubber Co., at Baltimore”. By early 1907 they had moved around the corner to the 1600 block of Lanvale Street.
On April 22, 1907, Bernard Henry Paul was born to Mary and Henry. Doctor’s Hospital on North Charles Street was the location for this event. Apparently Mary had not spent too much time in selecting her expected child’s name. One of the doctors who delivered him was named Bernard. Mary liked the sound of it; so she named her newborn, Bernard Henry. This would be their only child. Mary had a least one miscarriage, but no more children.
Shortly after Bernard’s birth they moved again. This time to 708 Gilmore St. where Henry began converting the upper floor into a rental apartment. These brick row houses were three stores high, three bay wide with bracketed cornices. Most had raised basements and white marble steps leading up to their arch-topped entrance.
Their house faced Harlem Square Park which was a 2-block wide green oasis with trees, shrubs and flowers around a statue of James Ridgley. There was even a fountain and an on-site greenhouse. Edmondson Avenue, at the south end of the park, had a streetcar line that Henry used each day to go to work.
In 1919 Mary and Henry had a young architect design a house for them. This house was built on a 200’ by 180’ lot located on Hawthorne Road in Linthicum Heights. The Linthicum Heights Company was founded in 1908 by a group of the Linthicum brothers who wanted to develop the families former farm land into a suburban community. The Washington, Baltimore and Annapolis Railroad as well as the Annapolis Short Line went through the property, with a station stop just east of Turkey Hill, the Linthicum homestead. Henry’s brother Euclid, who was three years younger than he, had already bought a house on the adjoining property. Mary and Henry liked the idea of suburban living. Henry particularly liked the idea of having enough space to have a garden He had the house located on the end of the property next to Euclid’a house, which left about 100’ x 180’ for his garden. Once they got settled in, Mary’s mother Martha came to live with them, remaining until she died in September of 1920 at age 59. For a few years Harold Olds, an orphan about Bernards age, also live with them.
Around this time Maryland Rubber Company was bought out by the U.S. Rubber Company. Henry then sold their line of rubber storm boots and galoshes to retail shoe stores. He developed such a large list of customers that in 1929 the U. S. Rubber Co. decided to split his territory into several sections and assigned other salesmen these spin-off territories. Henry promptly left U. S. Rubber and became a salesman for their competitor, B. F. Goodrich Rubber Co. He went around to the stores where he had represented U. S. Rubber and got many of them to carry his new B. F. Goodrich line.
The great Depression that began with the stock market crash in 1929 spelled trouble for Henry, as it did for most other Americans. When there is not enough money for a family to buy shoes there is even less to spend on storm gear. When the salesman job ended 50 year-old Henry and his 23-year old son Bernard scrambled around trying to find any possible source of income. They managed to get the contract to install street signs at intersections throughout Linthicum. The signs were made in Baltimore of porcelain on steel rectangles, with the lettering in white against a dark blue background. They bought a high-quality posthole digging tool, loaded the metal sign posts and signs on a trailer behind their car and began setting up the street signs. In 1922 the Linthicum family had built a 3-story apartment building on the site of their former barn. The ground level of this building had rental space available, and its location just up the hill from the two Linthicum stations made it an ideal location for a store. Henry joined together with two friends to begin Linthicum Stores. The store was divided into two sections. one contained a soda fountain, cigar counter and basic items such as canned and packaged food, stationary supplies and household needs. The other sections called the drug department, but it only sold patent medicines as there were no pharmacists working there.
In 1933 Henry was able to arrange, through some of his Democratic Party connections, his appointment as Postmaster of what was to become the Linthicum Heights Post Office. He took part of the Linthicum Stores space and converted it into the new post office. As postmaster he had to purchase his own brass locked-door boxes, from which he got a share of the monthly rental from patrons who chose to pick up their mail at the post office rather than have it delivered. When it opened, Linthicum was a fourth-class postoffice. The class rating was based on the amount of stamps and postal money order sales the facility sold. Henry used a number of salesman's tactics to increase stamp sales. He tried to sell entire sheets of stamps to a customer, rather than just what they needed that day. A dentist that he went to in Baltimore became a good stamp customer when Henry would deliver several months supply to him at each dental appointment. The mail was delivered and sent out several times a day on the trains that stopped at the station. Henry loaded the sacks of mail into his car for the trips to and from the station. He kept a cancellation rubber stamp and stamp pad in the mail box attached to the outside of the station so he could cancel any mail that was in the box, stick it in the mail sack and put it on the train to Baltimore.
Henry retired from the post office in 1953 at the age of 73. Of course the normal retirement age was 65 at that time, but it seems that Henry had done a bit more of his recreating himself when he became postmaster by subtracting a mere eight years from his age. Back in the pre computer age it was not all that easy to check on details like date of birth.
After about two years of being home all day and night, Mary strongly suggested that Henry needed to find something else to do with his time. The Collison Lumber Company had recently opened on Belle Grove Road in North Linthicum. Mr Collison was from the south and the two southern boys hit it off when Henry went to see about a job. He got hired as a bookkeeper. Except for the bookkeeping involved at the post office, Henry really didn’t have any bookkeeping experience. Time for another Henry Paul reinvention; suddenly he was a highly qualified bookkeeper. At that time when invoices came in, there was a 10-day period which if they were paid within, there was a percentage that could be deducted. By paying these bills within the allotted period Henry saved Mr. Collison enough money to cover his salary. It was also the personal contact with the lumber yard customers the Henry enjoyed. In April of 1963, 83-year-old Henry decided it was time to retire. Well, the retirement lasted four months. In August he went back to work at Collision Lumber, where he continued working until 1966.
In September of 1968 he entered Lutheran Hospital in Baltimore for a hernia operation. This was probably the first time in his life that he had been to a hospital as a patient. The operation took place on September 17, and he came through that fine. A week later there was prostate problems and he was operated on once again. He was making progress on his recovery, but on October 6 he suffered a heart attack. From that point on he did not do well. On October 6, 1968, Henry died at age 88.
Mary continued to live at 414 Hawthorne Road with Bernie and Edee until August 8, 1975, when she died at age 87.
Henry's Garden
Having been born and raised on a farm, Henry knew a lot of the gardening basics. He also developed an interest in raising flowers and vegetables. When he and Mary moved into their Gilmore Street row house there was a very small back yard, probably large enough for a few tomato plants. Once they saw brother Euclid's new home with a large yard on Hawthorne Road, they started thinking about moving out of Baltimore City.
The lot they purchased in Linthicum Heights was large enough for a house and a garden. The house was placed to one side of the 200 foot wide by 180 foot deep lot. On the west side of the driveway, leading back to the garage Henry created his garden. Across the front of this section they created a 44-foot-wide by 20-foot-deep badminton court. That left an area of about 50 foot by 150 foot for the vegetable garden. The space adjoining the side of the driveway back to the garage entrance was devoted to spring fruits and vegetables. These were perennial plants that emerged each year and supplied asparagus, rhubarb and strawberries. Except for weeding, this part of the garden sort of took care of itself. A three-foot wide grass walkway separated the spring garden from the main vegetable garden area.
Henry was extremely precise in the placement of everything in his garden. The rows of plants and the walking space between rows were staked out with a long tape measure. Solid metal rods, about 3/4” in diameter and maybe 18” long were driven into the ground at both ends of every row. A white cord was stretched between the poles and tied tightly. The row was then plowed, touching the line, with a single-blade hand-pushed Planet Jr™ cultivator. The spacing for each plant was determined by the type of vegetable and its’ fully developed spread. For tomato plants a yard stick was used with a tomato seedling inserted every 36”. Even the watering of these newly planted vegetables was exact. Each baby tomato plant received exactly 1/2 pint of water, measured in a milk bottle of that capacity. For plants such as tomatoes or climbing beans, wooden stakes were driven into the ground beside each plant. These stakes were 2” by 2” and about 8’ long. The white cord was attached to the stake at each end of the row at the height for the top of the stake. Berne would climb on the step ladder and, using a heavy mallet, would begin driving the stake into the soil. Henry, with carpenter’s level in hand, would make certain that the stake was perfectly level vertically in all directions. After all, plants growing on crooked stakes would not form perfect vegetables, and who wants to eat an imperfect string bean. Henry’s answer to my childish question of why did the stakes have to be straight and level was “There is only one right way to do something”. It took me years to realize that there could actually be more that one correct way to do anything.
As the plants grew, they were tied with brown sisal rope that had been salvaged from parcels at the post office.
From year to year the location of each type of plant was changed, sort of crop rotation on a micro scale. Every few years even the direction of the rows was changed from the usual east-to-west orientation to a north-to-south direction.
The crops would be planted starting with spring items like onions and lettuce, and progressing through the season, depending on how long they took to produce table-ready vegetables. Plantings of the same vegetable would be staggered to provide a steady supply of that vegetable for as long as possible.
Every day, once a vegetable was ready to pick, what was needed for that days lunch or evening meal was picked just before meal preparation began. When corn was on the menu, the pot of water had to be almost to a boil before Henry picked the ears of corn. He claimed that corn began to turn to sugar the second it was picked from the stalk, and no time was to be wasted in getting it to the boiling water: another one of those ‘only-one-right-way-to-do things’ examples. When crops matured faster than we could eat them, Mary and Edee got out the pressure cooker and the Mason jars and spent the afternoon canning vegetables that would appear on the table during the winter.
I guess you could call Henry’s gardening semi-organic. For fertilizer we hitched the trailer to the back of Henry’s car and headed to Markel’s farm, located along Andover Road, on what is now Linthicum-Ferndale Middle School and the equestrian center. The horse barn provided plenty of smelly warm and mushy horse manure, mixed with bits of straw. Peter & I got the fun job of shoveling the stuff into the trailer while Henry or Bernie caught up with the latest local gossip with Mr. Markel. On special occasions we got to follow the trailer through the cow pasture, shoveling up individual cow droppings as we went along. Back home we got to reverse the process, this time standing in the stuff on the trailer and distributing it on the garden. This fun time was usually reserved for fall, after the last of the summer’s crops had been harvested. Four legged animals were not the only organic source of garden enrichment. The Paul’s mini-farm also featured chickens. These feathered ladies spent each night on their roost in the safety of the chicken house. Below the roosting area was a panel of Masonite which farmer Paul called the ‘drop board’. Each week farm-child Peter and farm-child Larry were allowed to pull this board out through a horizontal slot door in the side of the chicken house. Directly below this slot was a large square, in-ground pit, covered with a plywood lid. For this fun time childhood activity, the plywood lid was removed, the drop board pulled out and tilted down on an angle to the edge of the pit. Then Peter and Larry, each with a garden hoe, got to scrap all of the chickens week-worth of contributions off the board and into the pit. Unless we were very careful, one of us would end up in the pit along with the manure. This stuff was so powerful that it had to ‘age’ for many months before being diluted with water and use to enrich the soil.
Henry did use some chemical things to deal with the bugs that found their way into his garden. There was some kind of white dust that we blew out of a spreader on the plants, but most of it, I think, ended up on Peter and me.
Hawthorne Farm also contained a number of fruit trees, and the fruit was selected for cooking purposes. Spring was the time for the cherries that could be made into pies. Picking them was really kind of fun. This tree was right beside the tool house, which has a low sloping roof. Peter & I went up the ladder onto the roof with our little galvanized buckets and picked every ripe cherry we could find. As a reward one of us got to use the cast-iron cherry seeder to remove the seeds, before the cherries were added to the pie crust. There was a damson tree on the other side of the garage which yielded damson preserves in the late summer. The apple tree in the side yard was the source for apple pie and apple cobbler in the fall. Then there was the grape arbor, built of 4” square posts and beams that ran from the kitchen door to the fence at the rear of the property. The grape vines produced clusters of green grapes which we covered with paper bags when they neared maturity, to keep the birds and bees away. At the rear end of the garden, on the east side, there was a concrete outlined hot bed where plants were started, under glass frames, each spring. There was also a miniature hot bed just to supply parsley year-round. Behind the hot beds were several rows of raspberries, both red and black varieties.
Hawthorne Farm required a lot of tools, most of which were operated by hand. To store the tools a tool house was built on the east side of the garage, with a gently sloping roof, perfect for cherry picking. All the tools that were kept in the tool house had their handles painted orange. This was so they would not mingle with the inside-the-house red-handled tools that got to stay warm in the winter. Garden rule number one - every tool would be returned to the tool house the minute you were finished using it. Another one of the ‘only one right way to do it’ things. There were pairs of long wooden pegs projecting from the walls where each type of tool was hung, in a designated order, back to front. After each use the tool was to be wiped clean with an old towel, oiled lightly, and hung in the proper place.
Then there was the rose garden, formally known as Henry’s Rose Garden. This was a rectangular plot adjoining the arbor behind the house. In it were placed Henry’s roses, each positioned the proper distance apart, in several straight rows. A row of miniature roses lined the grass walkway beside the area. These carefully selected roses were Henry’s favorite plants. Each one was marked with a metal tag containing it’s name and the year it was planted. He entered the roses in yearly flower shows held by the Linthicum Heights Women’s Club, and captured many prizes. This garden was not designed as a thing of beauty to be enjoyed as you strolled the yard, it was a cutting garden where roses were cut and taken into the house to be enjoyed in a vase. Climbing roses were attached to this part of the arbor where they could bloom without fear of being cut and taken into the house. By 1946 Berne had a gasoline-powered cultivator to do the heavy tilling, but Peter and I were assigned the privilege of hoeing out the chickweed that tried to live in this garden. I often thought, as we did this, that if is Pop’s (Henry’s) garden, why isn’t he hoeing it? There was a blackboard in the kitchen and every morning there was a chalk-written list of what the farm children were to do that morning.
On the other side of the grass walkway from the rose garden was the flower garden The concept here, like with the rose garden, was to produce flowers to be cut and enjoyed in vases in the house. We had a lot of vases in a lot of sizes and shapes.
No suburban estate was complete without a fish pond with water lilies. The Paul’s had two of them. The original rectangular one was near the back corner of the house, where it could be viewed from the dining room. Later a larger kidney-shaped one was created near the rear property line. While they were beautiful to look at, waterlilies required maintenance. Every couple of years the ponds had to be drained, the layer of gooky rotted leaves on the bottom shoveled out, and the heavy wooden tubs containing the lilies lifted out. They were emptied and then replaced with a mixture of horse manure, sand and dirt. Then topped with flag stones to keep that stuff from floating out of the tub when the pond was refilled with fresh water.
There were two privet hedges on the property. One along the east side between Euclid’s house and ours, and one along the east side of the driveway. When it was time to trim these hedges, out came two metal poles and the ever popular string and level. With a pole at each end of the hedge and the tightly stretched string at the height level for the top citing, Peter & I set to work with hand-operated hedge shears to cut everything back to the required shape.
All of the property not otherwise taken up with buildings, walkways, gardens, or trees was devoted to a grass. The mowing of this grass was divided between Peter and me. We had hand-pushed reel-type mowers. Peter was assigned the area east of the front sidewalk, and I got the west side. To make the lawn as level as possible Henry had originally had a granite roller fabricated at a quarry near Savage, Md. By the time we were assigned lawn duty, the granite roller had been up-ended and converted into a base for the sundial that was located between the rose and flower gardens. It was replaced by a huge iron roller that could be filled with water to make it even heaver. That monster spent most of it’s time parked under the corner of the front porch.
Every winter, just after the Christmas tree came down and our set of O-gauge Lionel trains was packed away in the attic, the seed catalogs would start arriving. A. T. Burpee, Wayside Gardens, and Attlee catalogs would show up in the living room. In the evening, after dinner, Henry would settle into his armchair, pick up a catalog and begin planning what to order for next spring. Peter and I would look at each other and begin planning to run away from home.
The Dooley Sisters and Brothers, Mary’s siblings
March 17, 1897, was the day that would forever change the lives of the Dooley family, because on that day 38-year-old John Francis Dooley died. He left behind a 36-year-old widow and six children. After his funeral his wife Martha was faced with the monumental task of caring for her children, with no source of income to support them. She turned to her church for help and most of the children were placed in Catholic-operated orphanages, where they would remain until they were adopted, placed in foster homes, or came of age.
Agnes Dooley was the oldest. There is no record of when of how she left the orphanage.
On August 26, 1905, at age 22, she married 38-year-old Thaddeus Stephen Clark , whom everyone called ‘Thad’. He was born in Ohio and graduated from Scio College. He then moved to Charleston, West Virginia, to begin his law career with Chilto, MacCorkle & Chilton. Later he formed his own law firm, Clark, Woodrow & Butts, and became a director of the Chesapeake and Potomac Telephone Co.
On January 17, 1907, their daughter Isabel Tomasa Clark was born. She was the same age as Mary’s son, Bernard. By the time he was seven, Berne spent summers in Charleston with the Clarks. Two photographs taken in 1914 show him with the Clarks and his aunt Tomasa Kelsey.
At some point, after 1914, they moved to 513 Linden Road, in the South Hills section of Charleston.This is a 2-story, gable roof,stone or brick house with flanking 1 1/2-story wings. Their property consisted of 1.46 acres.
On December 21, 1929, 22-year-old Isabel married 24-year-old William May Woodroe. Based on the name of Thad’s law firm it is not difficult to figure out that William was the son of one of the firm’s partners, and may have also been a lawyer at the firm. Around 1940 they moved into a new home and ordered custom-made wallpaper for the entrance hall. As part of the preparation for having this wallpaper printed, Isabel and William dressed up in colonial-period clothes and posed in the yard for a photograph. The photograph was used to create their image in the design for this paper.
On October 28, 1940, Steven Clark Woodrow, their first child, was born. James Thad Woodrow followed on August 30, 1945. James Thad was only 20 when he died in an automobile accident in 1965.
Agnes’s husband, Thaddeus, died in 1943. Agnes died in 1970. Isabel died in 1982 and her husband, William, died in 1985.
Martha Tomasa Dooley was 10 in 1900 when she left the orphanage and was legally adopted. She was adopted by Judge Maynard French Stiles and his wife, Ellen Field Stiles, of Charleston, West Virginia.
Maynard Stiles was born in Tunbridge, Vermont, in 1854. He graduated from Harvard in 1877, then headed for Colorado where he became a police judge in Irwin. In 1884 he married Ellen S. Field. In 1893 they moved to Charleston, West Virginia. Tomasa was educated at schools in Charleston.
On June 16, 1916, at age 26 Tomasa married 26-year-old Van Rensselaer Kelsey. In a newspaper article about the wedding Tomasa is described as the “possessor of a remarkably sweet soprano voice of great range and volume”. The couple’s honeymoon included New York, eastern summer resorts and Canada. Then they returned to Los Angeles, CA. where Van was a popular and prominent business man.
Van and Tomasa had four sons, Maynard Kelsey who was born November 12, 1918, but died just three days later; Van R. Kelsey, Jr., born November 29, 1920; Richard Stiles Kelsey, born September 20, 1922; and John Field Kelsey, born December 7, 1925.
Van R. Kelsey died October 13, 1932 at age 42. There is no record of when Tomasa died.
James Thomas Dooley was 5 when his father died. He may have been placed in Mt. Mary’s Industrial School for boys at that time, or when he was of school age.
At age 29 he married Neva West. They had two children. James Thomas Dooley, Jr. was born June 3, 1922, followed in 1926 by a daughter Patricia. On June 12, 1929 James died at age 37. His widow, Neva, Married James L. Hill in 1929 and both James, Jr and Patricia legally changed their last names to Hill. James Jr, later moved to the Chicago area.
Anna Jane Dooley, was only three when her father died. There is no information about her time at the orphanage.
On February 10, 1915, at age 21, Jane married Roy Henri Evans. They had one daughter, Agnes Evans born September 21, 1919. This marriage ended in divorce.
On December 9, 1933, when Jane was 39, she married 41-year-old Major Charles Love Mullins, Jr. Charles was better known by the nickname “Moon ” based on the then-popular comic strip Moon Mullins, but Jane called him Love.
Love was born in Gretna Nebraska on September 7, 1892. He graduated from West Point with the class of April, 1917. He was attending the Air Corps Tactical School when he and Jane, whom he affectionately called “Sergent Dooley” married.
From 1934 to 1936 they were assigned to the 29th Infantry at Fort Benning. From 1936 to 1938 he served on the War Department Staff in Washington, DC. Then he attended Command & General Staff School.
When he graduated in 1939, President Roosevelt assigned him to Nicaragua to establish a military academy patterned after West Point, for Nicaraguan President Anastasio Somoza. He and Jane spent nearly three years in Nicaragua while he turned the academy into a first-class institution, acting as its’ first director. (In 1959 Nicaragua issued an airmail stamp with the likeness of President Roosevelt, President Somoza and General Mullins, to commemorate the 20th anniversary of the founding of the Academia Military de Nicaragua in 1939).
Love became a Brigadier General upon their return to the states in early 1942. He was next sent to the South Pacific to join the 25th Infantry Division.
In January of 1945, his troops landed on the beach in Luzon, where they fought the Japanese for 165 days.
After the surrender of Japan, now a Major General, Love Mullins and his division took part in the occupation of Japan under General McArthur. Jane joined him there for the next three years.
In 1948 he was assigned to Fort Meade, Maryland, as Deputy Commander of the Second United States Army. Love and Jane occupied a large brick house on base. There was a room in the basement full of all the gifts that the Japanese had given them in appreciation of his help in rebuilding their post-war nation.
In 1949 he was assigned to Brazil as head of the United States Military Mission.
In January of 1953, after thirty-five years of service, Love retired from active duty. He and Jane spent the next eight years in Nogales, Arizona.
In 1961 they moved to San Francisco.
On March 1, 1976, Love died. He is buried in Arlington National Cemetery. On February 16, 1997, at the age of 103, Jane died. She is buried beside her husband. The inscription on their tombstone includes “Wife - Jane Dooley Mullins - Sergeant Dooley”.
William Benton Dooley was only five months old when his father died. He probably stayed with his mother until he was old enough to be placed in St. Mary’s Industrial School.
After graduation he entered the Marine Corps.
In the 1920’s Benton married Esther Blumberg. They had two daughters, Martha Geraldine, born May 26, 1924, and Betty Meredith, born on March 15, 1927. Benton worked for a time as a house-to-house milk deliveryman. They later moved to a farm in Iowa.
Martha married Orville Sievers in 1944, and Betty married Max Neiman in 1946. Around that time Esther and Benton moved to Florida to be near their daughters.
For a number of summers Benton and Ester would come north to stay with Mary and Henry while Edee and Berne were in Maine. WhenLarry and Carroll bought their 1920’s house on Hilltop Road, Benton showed Larry step-by-step how to remove and replace all of the broken sash-weight cords on the double-hung windows.
79-year-old Benton died November 28, 1975 just three months after Esther passed away.
The Paul Brothers and Sister, Henry’s siblings
Charlotte and James Temple Paul had five children, born between 1878 and 1889.
George Darr Paul, Henry’s older brother, was born in 1878. In 1899 at age 21 he married 18-year-old Laura Neoma Cooper.
The newlyweds lived in Cleveland, where George earned a living as a farmer. Around 1903 , after his mother died, they moved to 505 North Central Street in Knoxville to help take care of his father James Temple and his Aunt Margaret Elizabeth (Lizzy) Paul. James was employed by the Southern Railway and he got George a job as a car inspector.
They had five children. William Gestle, born April 21, 1901, Harry Temple, born September 23, 1903, Mary Newell, born March 18, 1906, George Kenneth, born November 6,1908, and Evelyn Ruth, born July 26, 1913.
In November of 1922 , their 14-year-old-son Kenneth was killed. Just two months later their 20-year-old son, Harry, died. Following Harry’s funeral Laura took their 17-year-old daughter, Newell, to Chicago to visit Laura’s sister Eva.
When Laura and Newell returned from Chicago, they discovered that George had moved 10-year-old Evelyn, along with all of the families belongings, to 4606 High School Street in Inskip, Tennessee. This white clapboard bungalow would be their home for the rest of their lives. George retired from the Southern Railway around 1950. He died January 26,1958, at age 70. Laura died June 11, 1978 at age 98.
Samuel Euclid Paul, James and Charlotte’s third son, was born on October 8, 1883. He probably attended Cleveland High School, as did his two older brothers.
On August 19,1903, three months after his mother passed away, 20-year-old Euclid married 21-year-old Maria Theresa Brewster. Nine years would pass before their only child, Euclid Temple Paul, (who everyone called Petey and later, Pete) was born on January 16, 1912.
By 1910 they moved to Maryland and were lining near Euclid’s Aunt Cate Studebaker in Baltimore’s 16th ward. Euclid’s occupation is listed in the 1910 census as a carpenter.
After their son, Euclid Temple, was born in 1912, they bought a newly-built home at 412 Hawthorne Road in Linthicum Heights. Theresa’s sister Katie lived their with them.
On December 23, 1936, Theresa died at age 54. Euclid was then 53. Their 24-year-old son Pete, who had married Sally Virginia Bullock in 1934, lived with him in the Hawthorne Road house.
Euclid, better know as SE, but pronounced Ssea, worked for the Chamberlain Metal Weather Strip Co. This company was founded in 1897, in Detroit, to produce metal weatherstripping that John Chamberlin had developed and patented in 1890. The product was sold by door-to-door salesman, but it was Euclid’s job to do the installation on existing windows as well as the installation of the complete windows and canopies that came from the Chamberlin factory. These windows arrived at Euclid’s house in wooden crates. As a young boy (Larry) these empty crates were the source of wood for many of my projects. Just about every time I asked Uncle Euclid for one of the left-over boxes he said yes. One of them turned into the holder for a coffee plantation model I made for an elementary school assignment. Another got nailed to an old wagon and became a WWII tank that we climbed into, closed the top and went down the hill on Hawthorne Road. It steered like a tank, we crashed and turned over at the bottom of the hill. We were almost casualties of war, so that was the last trip for that tank.
Even though my grandfather, Henry, lived right next door to his brother, Euclid, they very seldom spoke to each other. I don’t recall either of them ever visiting the other’s house. Mary did visit Katie at SE’ s house quite often. At the time of my childhood they were certainly not close, but I have no idea why. This was not the case around 1919 when Henry & Mary decided to build their house next to Euclid and Theresa.
Euclid died September 19, 1949, at age 66.
Nannie Marella Paul, James and Charlotte’s only daughter was born May 29, 1886. Marella was only 17 when her mother died. She was 19 when she married 21 year-old Joseph Ernest Hodge on October 15, 1905. They had two daughters, Louise Mildred, born July 24, 1910, and Evelyn Miles, born August 3, 1912.
Joe Hodge served in World War I as a veterinarian taking care of the US Army’s horses. After the war he set up shop in a two-story concrete block building on US Rt 1 near Savage, Maryland. At that time he may have gone into automobile repair work, along this major north - south artery, with his building serving as a repair garage.
When Joe died on June 9, 1931, at age 47, Marella was 45, Louise was 21, and Evelyn was 19. Louise married Bernard Moulton Acher on April 8, 1932, and Evelyn married William Mitchel on October 7, 1933.
The following June, Marella married 50-year-old Ernest Albion Hurdle. In the late 1940’s, early 1950’s, they were living in Silver Spring, Maryland.
Marella died on January 19, 1973 at age 87.
Arthur Temple Paul, the baby of the family arrived on May 5, 1889. He was 14 when his mother, Charlotte, died. He most likely graduated from high school in Knoxville around 1907.
By 1910 Arthur had migrated north and was living with his brother Euclid and Teresa, and Teresa’s sister Katie. During World War I he served in the Army. Arthur would have been around 28 at that time.
Whether they met in Knoxville or Baltimore is unknown, but on September 7,1919, at age 30, Arthur married 22 year-old Bonnie Mae Bozeman. On July 3,1920, their first child, Bonnie Temple, was born.
Three years later, on October 12, Jacqueline Rose arrived. In another three years Arthur Franklin, their only son, was born. Continuing and ending the three year tradition was the birth of Barbara Jean on August 31, 1929.
The 1910 census lists Arthur’s occupation as an Electric Wireman. He worked for a while at what was then known as the Consolidated Gas, Electric Light, and Power Company of Baltimore ( by the end of the 20th century simplified to just BGE). He may have worked in their fixture department, installing chandeliers and wall-mounted light fixtures. They lived in a bungalow on Dogwood Road, just off West Maple. When newly-organized St. John’s Lutheran Church put up their new prefab church in 1920, which was practically adjoining Arthur’s back yard, he installed the wiring.
Bonnie missed her family in Tennessee, so they moved back to Knoxville and settled in at 110 Clifford Street which is, just a few blocks from downtown Knoxville, on the north bank of the Tennessee River. Bonnie raised beautiful flowers in her garden. There was a small store adjoining their house, which they operated.
Arthur died June 21, 1962. He was 73. Bonnie died December 7, 1971. She was 72.
My trips to Baltimore with Nannie
Around the time I was in the fifth grade, someone discovered that I could not see the words on the blackboard clearly. It was decided that I should have my eyesight tested, but there was no eye doctor in the Linthicum area. Edee and Bernie did not wear glasses but Nannie (Mary) did, so she was the one who would take me to Baltimore for the exam.
On the morning of our appointment we walked to the Linthicum station and caught the B&A RR electric train into Baltimore’s Camden Station. From there we walked up Howard Street to Lexington Street, made a right turn and headed to Schumacher & Foreman Optometrists located at 209 N.Liberty Street, near the corner of Lexington.
Schumacher & Foreman had a large waiting room behind the show window overlooking the busy street. It was dimly lit with large comfortable upholstered chairs. When my turn came, I was escorted to one of the examination rooms at the rear of the store. Just as everyone, except me, expected I needed glasses. Next stop, was one of the fitting tables along the left side wall. Here Nannie selected, with input from me, frames of skin-colored plastic that were so much more modern looking that the older-style metal frames. We would by notified when the glasses were ready, so we now had the rest of the day to enjoy Baltimore.
A couple of weeks later we were back at Schumacher & Foreman’s to pick up my new glasses. This routine would be repeated every couple of years as my eyesight continued to deteriorate.
Once the eyeglass process was out of the way, the fun began. I could pretty much pick what I wanted to do. The 5 & 10¢ stores that lined one side of Lexington Street were the first target. In these wonderful places were all kinds of stuff that fascinated a kid. The toy counter was the ultimate experience. Plate glass dividers separated each different toy on the counter. I got to choose one which Nannie would buy for me. It was often one of those molded rubber autos with heads of the driver and passengers in the windows, that I selected.
If I needed new shoes, we would go up the hill on Lexington Street to Wymans Shoe Store. The children's department was in the basement. The wall beside this stairway was covered with a sepia photo montage mural of Baltimore scenes. The real fun in trying on new shoes was the Fluoroscope. You put your feet, with the new pair of shoes, into an opening at floor level. Then you pushed a button and you could see your toes inside the shoes on a large screen. You wiggled your toes to see how much space there was in these shoes. This was great fun. Sometimes we did this with several pairs of shoes before selecting the pair to buy. No one seemed to realize that this machine was actually an X-ray that could have serious consequences from the exposure. It is surprising that my feet have not fallen off after that experience. After buying the shoes I could select a small toy from a table near the cash register.
By this time we were usually ready for lunch. I got to pick where we would eat. There was Virginia Dare on Howard Street that had a dining room in the rear of their candy store, Read’s Drug Store on the corner of Howard and Lexington had a soda fountain on the main floor and a table-service dining room on the mezzanine, where you could look down at the shoppers below. My all-time favorite was Hochschild Kohn’s Department Store Tea Room on their sixth floor. This was the same floor as the toy department, so what was not to like about that? The best feature of the Tea Room was the dessert cart, which waitresses pushed around the room as customers were about to order their dessert. I could munch away on my club sandwich and potato chips while I watched the cart being pushed down the aisle. When the time came, it was difficult to choose what I wanted because ‘one of each’ was not an option.
With lunch out of the way it was now time for entertainment. Again, I got to pick where we would go, and there were several movie theaters close by. From an architectural standpoint the Valencia was the winner. To get to it we entered the doors of the Century Theater on Lexington Street, but walked down a ramp on the right side, rather than up the ramp on the left to the lobby of the Century. At the bottom of the ramp were elevators which took us up above the Century to the lobby of the Valencia. Entering it was like going back in time to a castle in Spain, complete with stone walls, suits of armor and swords. The theater itself was designed to appear as an open courtyard under a night-time sky, complete with very active blinking stars and slow-moving clouds. If the movie got boring, I could look up and watch the ever-changing sky. The Town Theater on Fayette Street, was originally built as a vaudeville theater, had recently been converted from a parking garage back to a theater. It was very sleek and modern inside with live plants growing in a raised garden in the balcony-level lobby. My first choice was usually the Hippodrome Theater on Saratoga Street. Even if the movie was not of particular interest the live stage show between the movie screening was fascinating to me. There was a microphone in the center of the front edge of the stage, which went up and down out of the floor, as if by magic. There were always several vaudeville-style acts with lots of curtains opening and closing and changing colors under the lights.
As we walked around the crowded sidewalks, Nannie would often meet someone she knew. One old man, (when you are a kid all adults are old) was Thomas Worthington who went around Baltimore taking black & white photographs with his big camera. I have no idea how or why Nannie knew him, but they would stop for a chat. There were other street photographers around Howard & Lexington that would try to get you to let them take your photo. It never worked with Nannie so I don’t know how, (in those pre-Polaroid days,) they delivered the pictures and collected the money. In warm weather the sidewalk in front of the 5 & 10¢ stores would be lined with vendors selling produce. One spring day there was a vendor selling Maryland strawberries. Nannie picked out a basket of good-looking berries and paid him for them. He put them in a bag, which was under the table on his side., and handed us the bag with his thanks. When we got home and opened the bag, what had been nice fresh berries was now an almost rotten mess: bait and switch. From that time on whenever we went to town Nannie was on the lookout for that strawberry salesman. If she had ever found him the result of that encounter would probably have been reported in the Sunpaper.
When our day in Baltimore was over, we headed back to Camden Station. One time we took a taxi. As we pulled up on the Howard Street side of the station, the taxi driver told Nannie the fare. She paid him and added a tip. The tip was not as large as he would have liked, and he told her so. You could almost feel her Irish blood starting to boil, and he heard, in no uncertain words, exactly how she felt about why he did not even deserve what she had given him, as he had not even gotten out and opened the door for her. By the time she was finished with him, I’m sure he was sorry that he had said anything more than “ thank you very much”.
Usually when we got to Camden Station Nannie needed to stop at the ladies room. So of course I was expected to stay with her rather than being in this busy place un-escorted. In we went to the ladies room. Actually it was a large lounge space with chairs and even writing desks. The actual toilet facilities were in another room beyond a second doorway on the right. I waited, (and wanted to hide,) in the lounge until she returned, and we headed for the B&A train back to Linthicum.
It was not just getting a day off from school that made these events special, it was a day of being treated royally ( except for the ladies room) by my grandmother that made our trips to Baltimore lasting memories.
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