Happy Birthday Grandpa Gilbride

Joseph John Gilbride, Sr., wedding portrait closeup, 1934.

April 9th was a special day around our house growing up. Of course, it was my younger brother Joe's birthday. But as I grew, I discovered it was also our Grandpa's birthday. What were the odds? Two people could be born on the same date?? Such is a kid's logic.

Grandpa Gilbride, as he was called, was a favorite around our house too. He was the grandfather we saw the most, given that we lived just a few doors down the street from him, on E. 147th Street in Cleveland. I never gave much thought to that fact until I was older; then I realized just how special those few years of living so close by were, especially after we moved to the suburbs in the early 1970s.

Our grandfather, Joseph John Gilbride, was the youngest of four boys, born 9 April 1910 in Scranton, Pennsylvania, to John Joseph Gilbride and Margaret McAndrew. Judging by the mischievous smiles in the photo below, it appears he came from a long line of cut-ups.

Margaret McAndrew Gilbride, John Joseph Gilbride, and Clarence, Donald, Harold and Grandpa Joseph Gilbride, taken late 1920s.

Grandpa's family lived in Scranton, Pennsylvania, at 440 Laurel Street. Between Fall of 1918 and January of 1920, the family moved to Cleveland, as Grandpa's father John wanted to leave behind the coal mines of Pennsylvania for a better life. In Cleveland, from 1918 until he married, Grandpa lived at 916 E. 147th Street in the Collinwood neighborhood.

Gilbride family home in Scranton, 440 Laurel Street.

Cleveland home on E. 147th Street.

On 8 Sept. 1934, Joseph married Mary Josephine Baker, a dark-haired beauty. The wedding was officiated by Rev. Thomas V. Shannon.

I love this Hollywood-charming photo of the young couple: Grandpa looking rakish in his hat and Grandma, lovely in her furry coat. It appears to have been taken near their home on E. 147th Street, I'm guessing shortly after their marriage.

In 1937 they welcomed their first child, my father, Joseph John Gilbride, Jr. In 1940 the family were living at 14627 St. Clair Avenue (per the 1940 U.S. Census).  Later came another son Thomas Michael and a daughter Margaret Ann. The family lived on 147th Street, and later, the grandparents and my aunt's family moved to a duplex on E. 169th Street.

Father & Son, late 1930s.

Although I loved Grandpa's company as a kid and young adult, it never occurred to me to ask him about his life or his own parents and family. How I wish I had! Now, I'm learning about his life from records I can piece together, created during his lifetime. 

For example, from census records, I learned that he completed through 10th grade in high school. I know that he worked on the railroad - as a metal machinist as of 1940. 

Though I'd always known he had his own sense of drama and fun, I was surprised to find that he had used his talents on the stage. The Cleveland Plain Dealer ran several previews and reviews for "The Colleen Bawn," an Irish play which was produced as part of the Cleveland Theater of Nations in 1939 at Public Hall. Grandpa played a soldier! I wonder if he ever "trod the boards" at any other time during his life.

Though they never made a show of it, I knew he loved Grandma. I never knew him to call her anything other than "Mother," as they sat in side-by-side easy chairs in front of the never-used fireplace in their living room. I recall vividly when she passed away in 1981, how he wept, sitting just feet from her casket at the funeral home. I didn't know how he was going to make it after that. But then, his two feisty granddaughters lived just upstairs, and they kept him on the straight and narrow - or was it the other way around? 

Grandpa had a great sense of humor, and loved to tell a joke or a story. He had the best belly laugh (and the belly to go with it!). He had a scruffy beard, ever-present blue suspenders, and his house had a front porch and a glider. He used to make yard planters made out old tires. He made one for my Mom, whom he called "Beezee" - my favorite nickname of all time.

Grandpa didn't drive, but somehow he always got where he needed to go. I remember picking him up for dinners at our house, when I was in my 20s. Those were some of the best times I ever spent with him. Though the details of our conversations have dimmed with time, I loved just chatting with him on the way to and from our house, and having him all to myself.

The picture below probably sums up how I remember Grandpa best. Even in his 70s, cutting up to the delight of anyone around—in this case his daughter, my aunt Margaret—at my brother's wedding. It kind of says it all. 

Happy Birthday Grandpa. (And to you too, Joe!)
 

If you have a memory or photo to share of Joseph John Gilbride, Sr., feel free to email me. I'll post them in the future.