Mary Jo O'Donnell

Mary Jo Keyes’ Baby Journal BORN: September 17, 1924 Wednesday 3:50 p.m. Pacific, 7 ¾ lbs. At Rice Maternity Home, Hollywood, California.

MOTHER’S FIRST IMPRESSION: “What plump cheeks she had. How thick her hair is. Those beautiful dark eyes. Baby has pretty long fingers and will make a pianist. Her voice is so high I know she will be a great singer.”

THE CHRISTENING: October 5, 1924 Church of the Nativity, 5624 So.Vermont Ave., Los Angeles, Cal. Father Murphy. Godparents: Aunt Virginia Alten and Uncle Alfred Alten

BABY FIRST TOYS: Handmade rag doll, large colored beads, pearl ring with bell, rattler, rubber doll, tinker toys, rubber ball, duck, dog, scrap book, tots bike, two dolls, doll bed, doll carriage and a lamb.

FIRST TOOTH: Two lower at six months

LEARNING TO WALK: First Step at ten months BABY WALKS ALONE: Eleven months BABY EATS ALONE: 16 months BABY TALKS: “Papa” and “Mama” at 5 ½ months. “Baby” and “No No” and “Hot” at eleven months. “Dog, man, book, bottle, goody and Bye Bye” at 12 months. “All gone, Boy, Girl, Rattle, Night Night, Pretty, Eyes, Nose, Hello, See there, Look at book, Rock O Bye Baby” at 15 months. “Stacking, Bread, How do you do?” at 16 months. “Milk, Spoon, Lamb, Hair, Hand, Dress, Horse, Apple, Mouth, and Duck” at 17 months.

BABY’S FIRST JOURNEY: Left Los Angeles for Elyria, Ohio May 22, 1925 on account of Grandmother Alten’s death. Arrived home May 25, 1925. Grandmother Keyes & Grandpa Keyes, Uncle Cy (Keyes), Aunt Virginia (Alten), Alberta (Alten), Gerry, Uncle Ray, also great Aunt Pauline (Snyder) & Uncle Charles met us at the train. We attended the burial of Grandma Alten May 29. We visited with relatives & friends. Left Elyria July first and arrived in L.A. July 4. Daddy (Stanley) met us at the S. P. station.

FAVORITE STORIES: The Three Bears. At 22 months Mary Jo could speak the following pieces by memory: Jack & Jill - Mary Had A Little Lamb - Mary Quite Contrary - Old Mother Hubbard. At 2 years - Hickery Dickery Dock - Georgie Progie - Little Boy Blue and Patty Cake Story.

FAVORITE SONGS: Mary Jo hears popular songs over the Radio and seems to know the first couple lines of Mary Lou - In A Little Spanish Town - Sweetheart - Yes Sir - She’s My Baby

BABY’S ADVENTURES: Mary Jo loves to get in mother’s cupboard, also sewing basket, buffet, china closet, Turns the Radio off, Turns the lights off and on.

BRIGHT SAYINGS: At 22 months she said, “Mother” very plain. In fact, she was talking everything. She can say The Angel Prayer by memory (at) 2 years.

                                                                                       *******

An Interview with Mom December 2001 By Richard M. O’Donnell, Sr.

Mom said:

I graduated from Elyria High School in 1942. During High School, I was a member of the A Cappella Choir and I sang in a local Big Dance band, Jack Elton His Piano and Orchestra. Later Jack would go on to work with Dean Martin. All the high school, teenager dances were held in the old gym, the Elk’s Club or the local colleges. Some of the songs I sang were You Must Have Been a Beautiful Baby, Big Noise Flew in from Neweka, The Whirling Dervish, I Only Have Eyes For You, and other pop songs of the time.

In 1942, I worked six months for Elyria Memorial Hospital as an office worker. Then I worked for six months for the United States Navy in Cleveland, Ohio. I lived in a young, working woman’s house where the rent was charged by the bed, so when someone left you weren’t stuck with all the rent yourself. It was at 150th & Lake Rd. Even as a young girl, I was amazed at all the waste in the Navy Department. Sometime money was short and we had to decide on food or cigarettes. The cigarettes always won.

From 1943 to 1945, I worked in the payroll department of Western Automatic on Lake Avenue in Elyria. They made machine screw products. Later that building would become Stanadyne and then Moen faucets. Then I worked about a year in the office of Ridge Tool in Elyria.

In 1945, I attended a semester at Oberlin Business School in downtown Oberlin to refresh my skills and shorthand.

In the fall of 1946, I moved to Glendale, California in Los Angeles County near my friends Audrey and Jack Neiborer. I had my own apartment. For entertainment, I went out for dinner and to the movies, but after Audrey and Jack moved away to Grand Rapids, Michigan, I decided I didn’t want to stay in California alone, so I came home.

I remember I arrived back in Elyria on April 7th, 1947 because Roy (mom’s stepfather) was in the hospital with pneumonia. As it turned out, your father (Alfred, Jr.) had also just gotten back from California where he had been visiting his sister, Bernice, and her children. When I went to the hospital, Alfie stopped by to visit Roy, and he talked… and he talked… and he talked… mostly about Bernice’s three sons (Tim, Roy & Tony Kelleher) and all the mischief they were getting into. That was the first time I set eyes on your dad. He told me the first time he saw me was at my First Communion. He was the altar boy who served at the Mass, but I don’t know about that. You know how your father loved to tell stories.

I knew Bob and Bernice from school and Rose Mary from the YMCA, but I didn’t even know that Alfie and Ed existed. Roy told me that Alfred O’Donnell was the most eligible bachelor in Elyria.

But our first real meeting was at the Elyria High School A Cappella Choir Reunion practice at the YMCA. I had heard about it and had decided I’d go to check Alfie out, but I almost missed it! I was visiting my Aunt Jearrie (Alten) when I suddenly remembered that today was the day of the practice. I told her I was sorry and ran to catch the bus. I almost missed the practice.

We hit it off and I knew it was only a matter of time before he asked me to marry him. Then one morning at Ridge Tool just before work started, I was told that Alfie was waiting for me outside in his car. As soon as I sat down with him, he threw a box into my lap.

“What’s this?” I asked. It was my diamond engagement ring. He had just picked it up and he couldn’t wait until later that night to give it to me.

We were going out to my parent’s cottage on the lake (Erie) for dinner with Aunt Virginia (Alten). Alfie told me he was going to tell Roy, “I’m going to marry Mary Jo or else!” But when the time came he lost his voice.

Roy said, “Wow.” And we toasted with scotch drinks.

I went back to work at Ridge Tool until October 1947, then quit to have a month off to prepare for the wedding. I’ve been a wife, mother and homemaker ever since.

                                                                                                      .......

                                                                                                  Snowball In her last years, the activity mom and I enjoyed the most was getting together and going over old photographs.  She loved to reminisce.  One time we ran across a picture of her holding a cat.  "I remember this picture," exclaimed mom.  "That's Joyce and me, and I'm holding Snowball.  She was a cat with one blue eye and one brown eye.  One day Joyce was chasing Snowball and Snowball ran headlong into the porch.  She died.  It's one of the few things that I ever got mad at Joyce about.  Snowball was my only cat" (RMO).

When my sisters cleared off mom's kitchen table after her death, they found an old Irish epitaph, REMEMBER ME, written in her own hand. It read:

                                                                             Remember me with smiles and laughter-

                                                                              If You can only remember me with tears,

                                                                                     Then don't remember me at all.

The Monkey Suit By Richard M. O’Donnell, Sr.

In 1900 my grandfather Stanley Keyes was five years old. He was sitting on the stoop of his Fifth Street home in Elyria, Ohio with his siblings when he saw a wonderment go by: A horseless carriage. He turned to his brother Cy and said, “When I grow up, I’m going to fix those things.” Cy told me Stanley never gave up his dream. He worked and studied hard and became a master mechanic. He opened his own garage and ran it successfully his entire life. He was a Veteran of World War I, a businessman, civic leader, and an active church member, yet he never thought of himself as anyone special. Mom told me:

My dad could never think of himself as anything but a mechanic. Even though he owned his own garage, he never thought of himself as a middle class merchant or an entrepreneur. While my mom wanted to hobnob at the country club, dad would much rather stay home. Socially, they were oil and water and it contributed to their divorce.

It was like what happened when I got married. When I told my dad I had picked out a tuxedo for him to wear to the wedding he said, “I’m not going to wear any damn monkey suit!”

It really hurt me that he would not do this one thing for me without an argument. This was for my wedding, my special day. I got angry.

My mom had married Bumpba (Leroy Reisinger. Bumpba was the name my sister Kathy dubbed him as toddler when she could not pronounce grandpa.). He was the advertising director of the Chronicle-Telegram, and the number three man at the newspaper. He was able to provide mom with everything she ever wanted. So I told my dad, “If you don’t wear the tuxedo, then you can’t walk me down the aisle. I’m sure Roy would be glad to put on the tux and walk me down the aisle.”

What did grandpa do? I asked.

He put on the damn monkey suit and walked me down the aisle.

Mom tapped the kitchen table with the palm of her hand to emphasize the point that she was not going to tolerate any silliness from her father.

This doesn’t mean my dad was a bad person. In fact, it was your father who set me straight about my father. While we were engaged, I happened to mention something bad about dad to Alfie and he looked at me as if I was crazy. He knew Stanley from business and church.

“Mary Jo,” he said, “I’ve known Stanley for years and he’s none of those things. He’s one of the nicest men I’ve ever known.”

After setting me straight, I took a second look at my father and I discovered he was not the demon my mom had made him out to be.  In fact, he was a sweet, gentle man.  My mom had poisoned my mind. When my parents broke up, it really wasn’t a big deal to me.  I was a teenager and I was more interested in boys and parties and things.  The last thing I wanted to do was spend time with daddy.  It was my little sister Joyce who was hurt the most.  She was ten and daddy’s little girl.  The divorce really broke her up.  Me, I just went blissfully on my way.  I swallowed everything my mother had said about my father hook, line and sinker.

When I realized how my mother had manipulated me, I resented it. I promised myself I would never be vindictive with my children. If I do Ricky, and mom tapped the table again with the palm of her hand for emphasis, you just put me in my place the way I did with my dad and that monkey suit.

                                                                                                    .......

                                                            Mom, Her Last Days by Leslie O’Donnell Conley (1953-     )

After mom fell in her bedroom and was taken to the ER, she was found to have a small brain hematoma. For this, she was life-flighted to Cleveland Clinic for evaluation. Dianne (Zvosec 1954- ) got to ride in the helicopter. She did not need surgery and after a few days was sent to rehab at Center Ridge Heath Campus. From there she went to Hearthstone Assisted Living in their Dementia wing, which is locked down to keep the residents from escaping.

Mom's memory and strength were failing. She did not like it much and was a very bad patient. She fell in the bathroom, which caused her to have severe back pain. The first trip to the ER was negative for fractures but all they x-rayed was her hip. After a short stay in Lorain Community Hospital, she went back to Hearthstone. Mom was complaining in tears about being there. I reminded her that she told us time and time again that we were not to bring her into our homes when she could no longer take care of herself at home, that she wanted to go to a nursing home. She looked at me and said, "I lied."

One of mom's biggest joys was being sprung from Hearthstone to go out to lunch. Toward the end, it became harder and harder due to her mental and physical decline but I will always treasure those moments. P.S. The wheelchair was hard and heavy to get in and out of the car. I don't miss that.

We decided to move mom out of the dementia wing because she was not as bad as most of the people there. Mom was able to have a private room, which she liked. Within one-week, mom’s back pain had become much worse. I took her to see her doctor and she was sent to EMH ER (Elyria Memorial Hospital). She was admitted and had an MRI of her back, which found the fracture. She was sent back to Center Ridge Health Campus for more rehab but went downhill rapidly and died a week later.

The day before she died she had gone comatose. It was at this time that I called Jeff and told him it was time to make mom a full DNRCC (Do Not Resuscitate Orders and Comfort Care). That evening Joyce Darmstadt (1994- ) had a concert with the Choristers at Finney Chapel in Oberlin. All of us siblings chose to go and we sat in the balcony at the top. I remember feeling a deep closeness to mom and all of you. It was a very healing experience for all of us

That night I received a call- from mom's nurse saying her BP was dropping. That was about 3AM. I got back up an hour later and told Chuck that I was going to check on mom. Just then, the phone rang and mom's nurse called to say she had died. It was peaceful. The nurse said she had stayed with mom so she would not be alone. She had recently lost her own son. I will never forget her compassion for our mother. I do not remember her name but she was the very best of what nurses do.

At Brookdale cemetery in Elyria, I remember my cousin Pat Humphrey standing between mom's casket and the sloop of the creek and promising me he would not let mom fall in. I also remember how we worried that her casket would be buried at an angle and we thought mom would not like to be head down. We were all reassured that she would be buried level. Funny the things you worry about at times like that.

Six weeks later Katie (Conley 1982- ) got married. With Katie’s blessing, I placed the centerpiece from the reception head table on mom and dad's gravesites in remembrance.

Love, Leslie

                                                                         Mom, a Remembrance by Jeffrey O'Donnell (1960-     )

                                                                                                              May 25, 2006

                                                                                            St. Mary’s Church, Elyria, Ohio

                                                                                                                  Eulogy

It occurred to me as I was writing this that I cannot do a dedication to mom without first mentioning dad. Dad died in 1984, and mom never stopped being Mrs. Alfred O’Donnell. Mom and dad had the happiest marriage of any couple I have ever known.

Mom had a wonderful sense of humor. She once asked me how I would feel if she remarried. I could tell from her tone of voice that she was kidding, so I responded, “As long as any forthcoming children are raised Catholic, it’s okay with me!” She laughed.

Mom was a very talented lady. As a girl, she learned tap dancing and how to play the piano. She was a good student. Mom was a master at crochet and needlepoint. She loved to play bridge with her friends. Mom was well read. She was a member of the 4 O’clock Book Club until her eyes failed.

Mom was 81 when she died, and I can’t remember her ever swearing or using vulgar language. If anyone told an off-color joke in her presence, they could expect a rebuke. During the holidays, she was a master chef in the kitchen; during the rest of the year, she was not. She would be the first to admit it.

Mom was extremely generous. What was hers was ours, and she was very generous with the church. Mom was pro-life. She was proud to be a housewife. Mom was a peacemaker, but when cornered, she could spar with the best of us.

She once used her sense of humor to teach me the most valuable lesson I ever learned. When I was about ten, I was having my daily screaming session with my sister Gail. After one fight, I took my case to mom to explain what I thought Gail had done. Mom looked at me and said, “To tell you the truth, I agree with your sister.” I’m thinking, has the universe gone crazy! How can mom disagree with me, and worse than that, how can mom possibly agree with Gail? What’s up with that? Realizing that the logic of the moment would not prevail, I did what a lot of 10 year olds would do; I resorted to emotional blackmail. So I looked mom straight in the eye and said, “You love Gail more than you love me, don’t you?” Without hesitation, she looked right back at me and said, “I really don’t like either of you!”

To this day, I do not remember what Gail and me were fighting about, but I will always remember how mom taught me to stand up for myself and never to give in to emotional blackmail.

I have received many compliments on how I took care of mom. I want you to know it has been a group effort. It has been mentioned, and should be mentioned, that mom is in heaven with dad. This is a beautiful sentiment, but it doesn’t say enough. Jesus said we would not be married in heaven, but that we will be like angels. It’s not just mom and dad in heaven; it’s mom, dad, Aunt Joyce, Kathy, the kids, Father O’Shaughnessy, Sister Walburges and Sister Concetta. Heaven is the communion of all the faithful with Jesus. Mom and Dad are with Jesus, and that’s all that matters.

Goodbye, mom, or more to the point, See ya!

                                                               Mom, a Remembrance by Richard M. O'Donnell (1951-     )

                                                                                                     Eulogy

                                                                                              May 25, 2006

                                                                                 St. Mary’s Church, Elyria, Ohio

On behalf of my brothers, sisters and myself, I wish to thank you for coming here today to help us celebrate the life of our Mom, Mary Jo Keyes O’Donnell. In 81 years, Mom raised eight children; saw the birth of 23 grandchildren and 2 great-grandchildren; and was married to our dad, Alfie, for 37 years. She survived the Great Depression and World War II, and she was married to our dad, Alfie, for 37 years. It was her generation that put a man on the moon in 1969. It was her generation that faced off the Soviet Union and brought down the Berlin Wall in 1989. Anchorman Tom Brokaw, in his history of the 20th Century, aptly called the times Mom lived in, the times shared by Uncle Bob, Aunt Mimi, Uncle Bernie (O’Donnell) and Catherine Cavagna (1914- ), The Greatest Generation.

Though Mom was born in Hollywood, California in 1924, she spent nearly her entire life right here in Elyria in St. Mary’s parish. Two events, that had a profound effect on her life, happened just a few years before she was born; they were Prohibition in 1920 and the Bolshevik Revolution in Russia in 1919. Her mother’s father, Joseph Alten, was a winemaker in Avon, Ohio. Prohibition closed his winery. His son, Gilbert, told me, “The revenue agents just spilt dad’s life’s work right out on the ground in front of him. It destroyed him.” Joseph never received any compensation for his loss.

Her dad’s father, Fred Keyes (1857-1945), was a champion sulky horse racer and trainer. In 1919, he was training horses for the Czar’s uncle when the Communists took power. All his wealth was seized, and he was sentenced to death. He managed to escape for four years, but starvation finally forced him to surrender. Fortunately, he wasn’t killed. Instead, he was held hostage. The Soviet Union was also starving, so they traded him and other hostages for American wheat, but the damage was done. Grandpa Keyes was devastated, and he never recovered.

Mary Jo grew up in a family where both sides had been ruined by the social revolutions of the early twentieth century: Prohibition and Communism. This instilled in young Mary Jo an appreciation for participating in politics and the democratic process. She voted religiously. When Alfie was in politics, she campaigned with him. When she could, she worked as a poll worker. Mom knew from first-hand experience the perils of allowing the government free reign over individual freedoms.

The explosion of the new technologies in the 20th Century also shaped Mom’s character. In 1900, her father, Stanley, was five years old. He was sitting on the front porch of his house on 5th Street just a block from where we are right now when he saw a wonderment! A horseless carriage drove by. He turned to his brother Cy (Edwin Keyes) and said, “When I grow up, that’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to build and fix those things.” And that’s exactly what he did. He studied hard, opened his own car garage and ran a successful business his entire life. Mom told me this gave her an appreciation for technology, pride for the independent businessman, and admiration for someone not afraid to get their hands dirty.

Don’t misunderstand me; this doesn’t mean Mom ever had the ability to program her VCR. But what I do mean is she could appreciate those people who could. That was why she was very proud of the men her daughters married: John Darmstadt, a Manufacturing Engineer for Parker Hannifin; Chuck Conley, a chemical lab manager for Republic Engineered Products; Dr. Michael Zvosec, a dentist; and Jack Reising, a chemist for Glidden. Jack, Mom was very excited when she learned you had filed for another patent for Glidden; and John, I know she was there in spirit Saturday when you received your master’s degree and Katie Beth (Kathleen E. O’Donnell 1984- ) received her Associates.

Also because of her father, Mom could appreciate a person who made a living with his hands. Whenever Mom and I talked about craftsmanship, Mom always mentioned, as you might expect, Jerry Reising. Jerry, she thought your work amazing. But when we talked about craftsmanship, she also mention you, Chipper (Alfred O’Donnell, III 1950-2006). Mom was very proud of your work as a master craftsman in bathroom tile, and how your ability and creativity allowed you to raise seven wonderful children. She referred to the job you did in her bathtub during your last visit as a work of art. And Mom would know, because she was an artist herself.

In high school, Mom loved to draw. She passed this love on to her daughter, Gail (Darmstadt), who in turn has passed that love along to her children, Joyce, Brian, and Mary. Recently, Mary showed me some drawings she drew for a story she’s writing. What struck me immediately, Mary, is how much of Grandma O’Donnell is captured in your style.

However, the art medium we all associate Mary Jo with is her crocheted afghans. The most enduring image I have of my mother is of her sitting at her kitchen table. The TV is tuned to the Turner Classic Movies channel, or the tape is playing a Nelson Eddy and Jeanette McDonald song. Spread across the table is her current project, and in her lap is the piece she is crocheting. As we visit, her fingers are going a mile a minute. Over the years, she created hundreds of afghans, and she has left us all a wonderful legacy; one we can curl up with and keep warm. Katie Beth, at my last lunch with Mom, she specifically asked me to remind you to go over to house and pick out an afghan for your wedding shower gift. She wanted to make sure you got it.

Of course, no remembrance of Mom would be complete without mentioning Mom and her music. In high school she was a member of the A cappella choir and she was the lead singer for the big band, Jack Elton His Piano and Orchestra. It was through the Elyria High School A Cappella Reunion Choir that she met the love of her life, Alfie. And it was right up there, in the St. Mary’s choir loft, that Mom had many of the best memories of her life.

Often parents and children drift apart because they don’t share any common interest. Not so my mother. It was her joy to be able to sing in the choir with her son, Jeff, and all her daughters. Now, Leslie and Chuck (Conley) enjoy same joy with their children, Katie and David. It was Katie who just sang that beautiful Ava Maria, thank you, Katie. And Gail and John also experience the joy of sharing music with Mary, Joyce and Brian. What a wonderful gift Mom has passed down to you, the gift of music.

I would like to end by telling you Mom’s favorite story, but first there are some people I must thank. Gail and Joyce, thank you for all the visits you gave mother over these last few months. Gail we appreciate how you and Mary kept Mom’s house clean; and Joyce (Reising, nee O’Donnell), Mom always looked beautiful when you fixed her hair. It helped her tremendously. I extend the same thanks to Leslie and Dianne, but I wish to add a special mention. As registered nurses, you both kept Mom safe through her illness. The responsibility and burden you took upon yourselves allowed the rest of us the peace of mind to know that the best that could be done was being done.

Last, but not least, on behalf of your siblings I would like to thank our brother Jeff for always being there with Mom. After dad died, you were without a doubt mother’s single most joy. I know from talking with her she knew that without you, she would have had moved into assisted living years ago. She loved you, respected you, and trusted you with her life. You were her rock and foundation in her waning years, and we can never thank you enough.

I would like to conclude this remembrance by sharing with you Mom’s favorite story. I saved it for the end, because it deals with the one aspect of my mother’s life I have yet to mention, her love of God and her love of the St. Mary’s Christian community.

It was 1938, and Mary Jo was in the eighth grade. She was the same age as you are right now, Brian Darmstadt, 14. Her mother had taken her and her sister, Joyce, to Florida for six months, and when she returned over Christmas vacation, her parents were divorced. Instead of moving back home, her Mom rented a house directly across the street from Franklin Junior High.

My Mom told me:

Ricky, I was confused. It was the first day of school after vacation and Mom hadn’t packed me a lunch. I asked, “Mom, where’s my lunch?”

“You won’t need one,” she told me. “You’re only going across the street. You can come home for lunch.”

“I’m not going to Franklin!” I said. “All my friends are at St. Mary’s.”

“Yes, you are!” said Mom, and I burst into tears.

I went over the Franklin, and I cried all morning. At noon I came home, and I cried. I went back to Franklin and cried all afternoon. When I got home, I went into my room and cried all night. All the next day, all I did, was cry and cry and cry. Finally, on the third day Mom threw up her hands and said, “Okay! Okay! You can go back to St. Mary’s.”

I flew down Middle Avenue. I don’t think my feet ever touched the ground. I had never run so fast in my entire life. When I reached the Guardian Angel building, I raced up to the second floor and was about to knock on the door when I hesitated.

What if they all forgot who I was? I asked myself.

Quietly, I tapped on the door.

Jack Daley was the door monitor, and when he opened the door his eyes went wide. He turned to the class and shouted, “Look everybody, Mary Jo is back!” And everyone in the classroom stood up and cheered.

Ricky, it was by far one of the happiest moments of my life, because I knew I was exactly where I was supposed to be.

A few months ago, we children told our mother, “Mom, you’re going to have to move into assisted living.” And mother cried and cried and cried. When we tried to explain to her it for her own good, she cried and cried some more. Finally, last Saturday we children let her go. Mom didn’t hesitate. She flew up to the pearly gates in heaven and pounded on the door. When St. Peter answered, his eyes went wide. He turned around to all Mom’s family and friends who had gone before her and shouted, “Look everybody, it’s Mary Jo.” And everyone in Heaven stood up and cheered.

I know in my heart Mom is exactly where she’s supposed to be.

Thank you. Ricky O'Donnell