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Maria Jane Darragh's Illness: Researching Acute Mania in 19th Century Ontario

Image by rawpixel.com.     Back in January, I focused on discovering more about my great-great-grandmother Maria Jane Darragh's identity. In the next few weeks, my focus will be on discovering more about her cause of death: acute mania. Jane—as she was known—was not my only ancestress to be diagnosed with a mental illness. Another great-great-grandmother, Catherine Ryan Gilbride, suffered from puerperal mania and was institutionalized in 1881 in Danville, Pennsylvania. 1 Both Jane and Catherine are in my paternal lineage: Jane was my grandmother's grandmother, while Catherine was my grandfather's grandmother. Let's start with an objective and what we already know. Objective The objective of this project is to learn more about Maria Jane Darragh’s cause of death: acute mania. Jane was born about 1852 in Grey County, Canada West. She married Charles Cassidy on 20 June 1883 in St. Catharines, Lincoln County, Ontario. She died on 23 October 1903 in St. Catharines, Ontario,...

GENEALOGY CHALLENGE 2021 - Childhood Heirloom


GENEALOGY CHALLENGE 2021

Childhood Heirloom - January 19th entry of a 31-day challenge to post a document, photo or artifact on social media every day in January.  

by Nancy Gilbride Casey


"Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand.” 

—Margery Williams Bianco, The Velveteen Rabbit

The beloved children's tale quote captures the sentiments of most anyone who has loved a toy in their life, be it a rabbit, a Skin Horse, or a teddy bear. Few comforts compared to the warm softness of a cherished furry friend when one was feeling scared or lonely. So few friends could keep a secret and conspire on adventures, without breathing a word to anyone.

This patchy, worn, often-mended teddy bear—aptly named Teddy—belonged to my father-in-law Jim Casey, Sr. He recalls it being given to him as a very young child, likely by his Casey grandparents when his family lived in Muskogee, Oklahoma in the early 1940s.

"I do remember it was a constant companion. I slept with it and remember carrying it around by its hand wherever we went. I don't ever remember having an attachment to a blanket like some, but I do remember the teddy bear being a must."

Jim Casey, Sr., sleeping with Teddy at his grandparents' home in California, 1947.

Teddy, today.

I wonder what sort of shenanigans Dad and Teddy got up to together. I picture my father-in-law as a young sprout, walking along the country road with the bear dangling from his hand, taking Teddy on adventures.

"...I do remember being quite upset when one of the arms tore loose, probably from my carrying it by that arm for so long."

As with most toys and as with most children, the bear eventually fell out of favor as he grew: "...when I started to school at six...I stopped carrying it around constantly, probably because I was developing friendships and being occupied with them."

But Teddy was always there for him. 
 
"I remember keeping it in my room, always propping it up on my pillow when I made my bed and always cherished it as a source of comfort and security, which is why I never relinquished it."
 
Teddy now resides with our family, a cherished heirloom of a long-ago childhood, and a promise of adventures and solace for a future generation.
 
Teddy bear sits in Jim Casey, Sr.'s wooden rocker.

 
NEXT UP: Obituary

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