Flossie with brother Charles

Early photos of Flossie, her friends, her brother Charles and as a young married woman with our dad, Joe, showed a mixture of fun, sauciness and a "watch out - here I come" attitude.

In fact, in later years, everyone knew Flossie would eventually say during the course of a family gathering, "I've got news for you, Honey!"

Flossie never held back telling us stories about her young life. How she was a premature baby and her grandmother, Honorah O'Rourke Mock (Nana Upstairs), who was a midwife - practical nurse type, rubbed oil all over her tiny body, wrapped her up in cotton batting, dropped a tiny bit of brandy down her gullet and put her in a wooden box at the back of the stove. She had to explain to us that she was not put in the stove, but in back of it. We learned that the ever-burning wood cook stove that also supplied all the hot water was set away from the wall because of fire danger. Perfect space for drying clothes or warming them during frigid winters, to put bread to rise. And to keep baby Flossie warm. Needless to say, Flossie made it - survived.

Another favorite story (there were so many) was about a Saturday night ritual. My grandfather Tom had a meat and grocery story. The "ritual" was that every late Saturday afternoon after a long day of chopping and cutting meat and assembling the orders, the ladies of the household would come to the store to pick up the food for Saturday night supper and Sunday dinner. Tom would hold "court" behind his meat counter, dispersing the white paper and string-wrapped packages like some Irish guru adding the best way to cut the succulent roast or chops or what-have-you. Wanting to look dapper, he would change his detachable collar and black celluloid bow tie (yes, celluloid!). Flossie's job was to go to the menswear store, pick up a fresh collar and new tie and run them down to the store.

This was never a problem for Flossie until fall brought about early sunset. The way to the store went right by a cemetery and Flossie was scared! She talked about this with her teacher who was a Catholic sister. The sister told Flossie that as a young girl, she was deathly afraid of dogs.

Flossie with her father, Tom

Flossie kept her fingers crossed when passing the cemetery and a ghost from the cemetery NEVER caught her. So, Tom always had his fresh collar and a new black celluloid bow tie.

One last story that Flossie told us…
Even though she was a tiny baby, she grew hale and hearty! And, so did her feet!

During a time when small feet were a real mark of being a "lady," Flossie's feet grew and grew until they were a whopping size 8 - and she wasn't even in high school! My grandmother (Nana Downstairs) was "embarrassed." How could her daughter have such "CLOD HOPPERS."