Perspective or I Have No Problems

There's nothing like doing some family history to gain a little perspective. For example, how many women have you come across in your genealogy research whose husbands died leaving them alone to support several children? I can think of four right off the top of my head. In some cases the women re-married and in others they just muddled through. Thinking about their lives makes me realize that I have no problems. Furthermore, knowing that the life I have could be gone in a moment makes it all the more dear.

Or there is the case of my Kopp family who lived in Tiffin, Ohio. In 1913 a terrible flood swept through the city and the force of the water even carried the piano out of their house. My family had to be rescued from the roof. They were lucky; nineteen people died.

Another of my people, Lawrence Flynn, worked as a carriage maker for the Michigan Buggy Company until a blazing inferno burned the factory to the ground in January 1902. (Michigan Buggy Inferno) About 300 men were left without work. I can only imagine Lawrence being buffeted by a chill wind as he walked up to the smoldering remains. I can envision him staring blankly at the charred ruins of the building in stark contrast to the snow-covered city all the while wondering how he would feed his family. Lawrence was lucky in that the company quickly rebuilt, but he and the others had to subsist somehow for those nine long months.

For me, though, the event that trumps all others in putting my life into perspective is the Great Irish Potato Famine which lasted from approximately 1845-1850. To illustrate this I'll present the case of brothers John and Daniel Harrigan. John was born about 1829 in Tipperary, Ireland, Daniel in 1838. At this time, approximately two-thirds of the Irish population depended entirely on potatoes for sustenance, because it was the only food one could grow enough of on a tiny plot of land (often less than an acre) to feed a family. [1,2] Consequently, a bad year was devastating. During the Great Hunger (as it is referred to in Ireland) there was complete failure island-wide in two of the years and partial failures (and lack of sufficient seed potatoes to grow more) in the other years. Those who didn't die of starvation died of disease (typhus, dysentery and cholera, among others). Tens of thousands were evicted (whether they were current on their rent or not) and their mud huts destroyed so their landlords could reduce their taxes (the fewer tenants they had the less they had to pay in taxes to feed the destitute). [1,2] The evicted were left to fend for themselves. Those willing to give up every possession might be accepted at a work house, assuming there was space. Here, families from age two and up were separated and adults subjected to back-breaking labor, all especially designed to be so abhorrent men would do everything in their power to avoid entering a work house. [1,2]

Visitors to the island described entering apparently deserted villages only to find themselves beset by walking specters, their rags hanging from their emaciated frames. [1,2] Whole families were found huddled together in their cabins, the dead intermingled with the living, who were too weak to stand let alone bury their loved ones. [1,2] The dead littered the countryside and carriage drivers remembered the thump of driving over bodies during the night. [2] Every edible creature (from dog to bird) was consumed and many described the unnatural silence that settled over Ireland. [2]

John Harrigan would have reached manhood during a five-year period that saw some of the greatest suffering of the Irish people in their history. Daniel may not even have remembered a time growing up when death did not pervade the very air. This was the world that John and Daniel Harrigan left, along with at least two million others. By conservative estimates, they left behind 2.5 million dead. [1,2] Assuredly, many more died for the numbers come from interviews of the survivors. When whole families and even entire villages died or emigrated no one was left to attest to their existence. The suffering did not end until emigrants were safely in the bosom of friends in the New World because from port to port they were swindled out of every farthing possible, crowded together in miserable conditions and given only insufficient or substandard food (assuming they were given any at all). [3] Learning about the famine and the abysmal conditions on board emigrant ships completely changed how I thought about the Harrigan family.

Healthy potato plants growing in my garden.

So, now when life gets difficult I try to think about what some of my forebears lived through. It puts things in perspective. And I can tell you that I will never look at a potato quite the same again.

1. Woodham-Smith, C. The Great Hunger, Ireland 1845 - 1849, the Story of the Famine of the 1840's. 1962. Harper & Row. New York.
2. O'Murchada, C. The Great Famine: Ireland's Agony 1845-1852. 2011. Continuum.
3. Coleman, Terry. Going to America. 1972. Pantheon Books. New York.

No Stranger to the Law: Henry Harrigan

You may recall in an early post about using newspapers I described how Henry Harrigan was arrested in New York City in 1889 for fatally injuring a man. To refresh your memory, Henry had been touring New York on the horse racing circuit. One night, after leaving a bar, Henry scuffled with a man he claimed he didn't know, despite rumors to the contrary. [1,2,3,4] Henry whacked Patrick Reedy over the head with his silver-headed cane, fracturing his skull. [2,5] Days later after refusing a trepanning procedure to relieve the swelling of his brain, Reedy died. [5] Meanwhile, Henry, after being released on bail for the assault, lost the then huge sum of $6000 on a single horse race. [2,4,5] According to the rumors, Harrigan and Reedy were acquainted and “the fatal blow was struck during a quarrel,” contrary to Henry's testimony that he was the victim of a robbery attempt. If I had to guess I would speculate their argument had to do with money and horse racing. [3] Apparently, Reedy's father worked as a hostler (a man who tended the horses) at the Saratoga race track, a place Henry certainly would have been to bet on the races. [2] Coincidence? Luckily for Henry, the coroner's jury quickly exonerated “the tall, muscular, well dressed young man” with the “blonde mustache and keen blue eyes.” [2,6]

You may also remember reading about Henry in connection with the violent death of his father, John Harrigan, ostensibly of suicide. I posted a photograph of Henry's flowing signature written just hours after John's death. Even if Henry had nothing to do with his father's death, his perfect signature at the inquest indicates to me that he didn't appeared at all bothered by his father's death (Who Done It?).

What I now refer to as “the Reedy incident,” however, was not Henry's first brush with the law. In May of 1876, less than a year after his father's death, Henry (then eighteen) was in serious trouble. The Kalamazoo Telegraph reported “Henry Harrigan was arraigned before Justice Davis today for assault and battery, he having been a prominent actor in forcibly entering a woman's house, to get a ball that had been knocked through the window. The woman was treated with violence, during the act of recovering the ball. Harrigan was sent up to Detroit for ninety days.” [7] Henry was presumably honing his baseball skills, a pastime he took up shortly before his father's death, when the above assault occurred.

Also in 1876, Henry was involved in a criminal case that I can find no record of other than a single line in the Kalamazoo Gazette. The committee on claims of witnesses in criminal cases submitted their report. In the case of Roland C. Maley, People vs. H.D. Harrigan, claims were made in the amount of $217 and were recommended to be allowed. [8] A search of criminal court cases in Kalamazoo county during this period turned up nothing and I can find no other newspaper references to Roland Maley so I am left to wonder if it related to the May 1876 assault or something entirely different.

A couple of years later, Henry actually hopped a train in a vain attempt to evade arrest. When he heard he was to be arrested for larceny, Henry caught a train leaving Kalamazoo. The pursuing officer, Travis, discovered him in the baggage car. “Harrigan jumped off and Travis after him, the train all the time flying south. As the hind car came along Harrigan again got on and Travis after him. Finally Travis caught hold of H. just as the latter's coat was pretty well shattered; he surrendered. By this time the train was over the Portage, but it stopped, and Travis came back with his prisoner.” [9]

In 1883, Henry discovered what it was like to be on the other end of things when Henry Giddings attempted to shoot him after the two “had some words.” [10] Giddings was sent to Ionia for ninety days. [11] I have found nothing to indicate what this argument was about and as in the 1876 case, no court records were found. I wouldn't be shocked to learn it involved money.

Three years later, another incident came before the courts and again Henry was in the middle of it. A prominent physician, Eugene Southard, charged Henry and three others with “winning money of him at a game of chance in violation of” the gambling acts. [12] Southard claimed that he had lost about $400 “and that faro is the seductive game of chance by which he lost it.” [12] The case was eventually discontinued. [13] According to Henry's account it was only a coincidence that he was closing up his gambling house in Kalamazoo in search of “green pastures and longer grass” mere days after the Southard case was over. [14] The actual reason he was moving on, he claimed, was that he felt bad for the families of the “poor devils” who earned but $1-2 per day and gambled away $12-15 at a time, leaving their wives and children without sufficient food for the week. [14] “Gentleman Hank” alleged “it's many a dollar I have given back after having fairly won it – when I knew the loser to be a worthless, improvident cuss.” [14]

Henry asserted that he had been in the gambling business for about fifteen years and been “tolerably successful.” [14] He said “probably if I had devoted as much attention and study to some other profession as I have to gambling I would be respected a good deal more and be just as well off. I was drawn into it, however, and will probably always stay at it.” [14] He ended his little speech by saying “There is no one who holds his word more sacred than a gambler and no one in whose promise one can put more implicit trust.” [14] I suspect that “gentleman Hank” could have had a successful career in politics.

1. New York Times, 8-31-1889
2. New York Herald, 9-6-1889
3. New York Times, 9-6-1889
4. Kalamazoo Gazette, 9-7-1889
5. New York World, 9-6-1889, P2, col7
6. Kalamazoo Gazette, 9-10-1889
7. Kalamazoo Telegraph, 5-4-1876, P4, col3
8. Kalamazoo Gazette, 10-28-1876
9. Kalamazoo Telegraph, 6-10-1878, P4, col3
10. Kalamazoo Gazette, 4-20-1883
11. Kalamazoo Gazette, 4-27-1883
12. Kalamazoo Gazette, 5-15-1886
13. Kalamazoo Gazette, 5-21-1886, P4
14. Kalamazoo Gazette, 5-23-1886

Mystery Inscription

Can anyone make out this inscription? Several people from my family have tried without success. At first glance it appears that the inscription on John Harrigan's grave stone should be easy to read. Then after kneeling down and taking a closer look you realize that enough of the stone has eroded away to make reading it quite difficult. I'll send a jar of homemade jam to anyone who comes up with a good rendition.

If it were any other stone, I would not feel so compelled to decipher the engraving. This, however, is the grave stone of John Harrigan who committed suicide by slitting his throat (officially). Or did he? That is the question I have written about in previous posts (Suicide or Murder? What Do You Think? and Who Done It?). Because of this uncertainty I would dearly love to know what is engraved in the stone. Was his wife trying to tell him something posthumously?

The stone itself is quite large (almost 2 x 3 ft.), especially considering that John's widow now had five children, ages three to eighteen, to provide for. To me, this says that Mary didn't want John to be forgotten. An oak leaf and acorn are carved into the stone. These may represent endurance or longevity. Another message, perhaps?

My mother has made many attempts to read the inscription, but we only have part of it. Unfortunately, the stone has fallen over and lies facing downhill. It is not very steep, but it makes leaning over the stone a bit awkward. She tried foiling, but didn't have much success. She also tried sprinkling sugar in the inscription, but that only helped with a few words. Damp napkins fit into the crevices well, but then there is the problem of making the dried negative image readable. It doesn't help that the script is small and fancy. Pouring water on the stone definitely seems to help as I discovered when I was in town last October. I probably have nearly fifty photos of the inscription from various angles with different lighting, but I just can't make it out. Here is an example showing the entire inscription.

Here is what we think we have so far:

God is good. ___ ___ trust him

Turn your ___ ___ ___ alone/about?

And? think through ___ a? trial

One thing  ___ God is Lord?

A few of the above words may be incorrect, but this is our working version.

At first we thought that the inscription might be a Bible verse, but I have been unable to find anything that seems to fit the words we have. My cousin suggested that perhaps it was a family prayer, but pursuing this angle didn't yield results either.

At least John's resting place is in a beautiful part of Kalamazoo's Riverside cemetery, section B.  Looking at the stone you can gaze west, shaded by the many tall oak trees while listening to the wind rustling through the leaves.  It is a peaceful place even if John's end was far from it.  It is a good place to ponder whether he came to his end by his own hand or was helped to it.

John Harrigan: Who Done It?

For those of you who read my blog post about the death of John Harrigan (found with his throat slit), you may have noticed that I mentioned John's son, Henry Harrigan, a couple of times. While I didn't exactly point the finger at him, I would be lying if I told you that I didn't consider him the primary suspect.

Before I go further, let's take a step back. The household at the time of John's death consisted of: John, age 45, his wife Mary (41), and their children, Mary (18), Henry (17), Charles (15), Frank (7) and George (3). I think we can safely eliminate the two youngest children from suspicion. As far as I can tell from newspaper accounts (and the Ross Coller file), all of the family led unremarkable lives with the exception of Henry and possibly Charles (who cheated his elderly mother out of some money, or tried to until she sued him, but that's a story for another blog post).

So why have I focused on Henry, you may ask? Well, for one thing, most murders are committed by a family member. And in cases in which a child kills a parent it is most often a teenage son. [1] In the U.S. from 1976-2005, 4950 cases were reported in which a father was killed by his son. Of those, 53% were killed by a son aged 15-25. Seventeen-year-old sons topped the list with 353 patricides (7%). Henry Harrigan just happened to be seventeen when his father died, though this hardly proves his guilt.

One thing I would like to submit into evidence are the signatures of Henry, Charles and Daniel (John's brother) Harrigan from the coroner's inquest. Keep in mind that the inquest was held at the Harrigan home mere hours after John's body was found by Charles in a blood-spattered room. While thankfully I have no personal experience here, I can only imagine that I would be quite shaken if I were asked to give testimony under these circumstances, especially after seeing the room and body. Before I go any further, take a look at the signatures.  Click on the image to see a larger version.

Did you notice anything interesting about Henry's signature? Unlike Daniel's which appears shaky (especially for a man of 36), Henry's looks almost like calligraphy to me. Ask yourself this: is this the signature of someone at all disturbed by the bloody death of his father just a couple of hours previously? Even if they didn't get along I find it difficult to believe that Henry's signature could look so, well. . . perfect.

As I am hardly a handwriting expert, I decided to consult Paula Sassi (a certified graphologist) to get an informed opinion. For those of you who listen to Lisa Louise Cooke's Genealogy Gems Podcast, you may recognize the name from episode 116. If not, you can watch Paula analyze a handwriting sample for Lisa here.

I sent Paula a copy of the coroner's inquest statements which included the signatures of those questioned. Beyond this, I did not provide her with any other information about Henry or John.

Paula's analysis is as follows: “The signature represents the public self-image of the writer and does not provide a full representation of the personality as seen in the handwriting.

Henry's signature, considering the circumstances and timing of this signing, appears to be very controlled with little emotional upset. His writing shows intelligence and an ability to maintain secrets as seen in his retraced “e.” The first capital “H” also has a beginning hook at the bottom which can be an indication of someone who has acquisitive tendencies. He wanted to acquire wealth for himself and this is further evidenced by the full lower loop of his “y.” This can be seen as a money bag, and along with the full “g” loop, shows that he had strong material and physical desires. Becoming wealthy and well connected was probably important to him. He had a good intelligence for a young man and could be logical and analytical in his thinking along with having some intuitive ability. His i-dot indicates that he had a good eye on the future and was moving forward in a steady and controlled fashion. The flourishes at the top of the H's may just be an affectation of the writing style of the time period, but also indicates some cover and self protection.”

The personality traits Paula discerned from Henry's signature actually fit quite well with what I know about him. There is too much to include here so I'll present it in a future post. As for Henry's signature, it is obviously not sufficient to say whether or not he killed his father (or was even capable of cold-blooded murder), but once I actually looked at his signature in context, it certainly made me think twice about the possibility of his guilt. Stay tuned for the rest of the story.  You can view John's gravestone and see if you can decipher the inscription.

To learn a little more about Henry Harrigan and his brushes with the law read my post here. 

1. Homicide Trends in the U.S. FBI Supplementary Homicide Reports, 1976-2005. Bureau of Justice Statistics. Released Jan. 2007

Suicide or Murder? What Do You Think?

I have been just dying (well, that may be a poor choice of words) to tell you about what was at first merely a footnote, but rapidly turned into a mystery. According to the official accounts, in the wee hours of October 1, 1875, John Harrigan (brother-in-law of my gg-grandfather) committed suicide by slitting his throat. His fifteen-year-old son found him at about six in the morning lying in a pool of blood, face down on the floor. The razor was on a bureau. John's three-year-old son, splattered with blood, was peacefully sleeping in the bed a few feet away from his lifeless father.

Within hours, a coroner's jury was assembled, statements given and the verdict rendered: suicide by cause of temporary insanity. John's wife was left alone to support five children ranging from eighteen down to three years of age.

This was the story. I had no occasion to doubt it until my mother recited the tale to a friend of hers who had worked as a social worker for decades. She didn't buy it. And thus began a quest, for that is indeed what it has become, to try to determine if poor John Harrigan truly did take his life or if someone else helped him to a premature end.

What was it my mom's social worker friend found so unbelievable? Her major objection was that it is difficult to commit suicide by slitting one's throat. It takes both a strong arm as well as a strong will. In John's case, both carotid arteries, one of the jugular veins and the trachea were completely sliced through. With three major blood vessels severed, along with the windpipe, he likely bled out or suffocated within minutes.

It turns out that suicide by cutting (all forms, including slitting throat and slitting wrists) is uncommon today, accounting for about 1-2% of suicides between 1985-2004 [1]. While it is difficult to obtain statistics from the mid to late 1800s, it appears that slitting one's throat was more common then, but still trailed the more popular methods such as hanging, poison, shooting and drowning. Of the 899 suicides in Michigan between 1875-1886, only 20 (2.2%) were from slitting the throat. [2] For the entire US 1882-1886, suicides as reported in local newspapers were analyzed. Of 6283 suicides recorded, 534 (8.5%) had cut their throats. [3]

Another tidbit that I found indicates that if a firearm is in the house or readily available the risk of suicide increases almost six-fold, nine-fold if the gun is kept loaded. [4] Given the choice of using a gun or slitting one's throat (which is often unsuccessful, and requires minutes to bleed out) I can't imagine choosing the option that requires more time (and hence pain) and has an uncertain outcome. Not only did John possess a gun, but he kept it in a trunk in the room where he died. I know that suicide is a selfish act, but I'm puzzled that John would have chosen to use his razor over going outside where he would be unlikely to be readily observed due to the darkness and lack of street lighting (not introduced until the 1880s).

From the various accounts of him it seems that John Harrigan was known around Kalamazoo from driving his dray. He kept his affairs to himself and appears to have been an introspective person and probably was difficult to get-to-know. If we believe a statement in John's obituary he was “unfortunately dispositioned,” but as we don't know whose opinion that was (we don't know who wrote the obit or who provided information -- John's son, Henry, perhaps?) I don't want to put too much store in it. I think to understand John's disposition better it would be useful to take a brief look at his background.

Of the four Harrigan children I have found, John was the oldest. We know that John came to the US during or very shortly after the great Irish potato famine (1845-1850). He worked in Ann Arbor for several years, probably sending money home, eventually bringing over his younger brother, Daniel. By the time Daniel arrived their parents were dead, likely from consequences of the famine. Presumably, the Harrigans were farmers in Ireland, but were very unlikely to have actually owned land (most Catholics had not been allowed to own land for several generations due to the restrictive anti-Catholic laws). While John was approaching manhood he would have seen the potato crop fail repeatedly and watched his loved ones and neighbors starve (at least one third of the Irish population was completely dependent upon the potato for sustenance), die of disease and maybe even be thrown out of their cottages or huts to live in ditches. I could go on, but there isn't room here. Suffice it to say that I think these scenes would have deeply impressed John Harrigan with the importance of working hard to take care of his family. Land was literally the life's blood of the Irish people, without which they had no means of feeding themselves. I believe that John Harrigan would have felt it imperative to purchase land in America (something I think it is safe to say he never could have done in Ireland) to secure a future for himself and his family. If his life before he reached American shores didn't sober him I don't know what further misfortunes could have done so.

The information we have as to John's state of mind before his death comes primarily from the statements in the coroner's inquest. For those who wish to read all of these statements, they were published in the Kalamazoo Telegraph (10-1-1875, page 4, column 3, accessible through the Kalamazoo Public Library website). These indicated that he had been troubled or at least preoccupied for at least a week or perhaps a month or two prior to his death. We can only speculate as to the cause as there were no obvious traumatic events in his life at the time (no deaths in his immediate or extended family, though his only surviving daughter was apparently ill). Also from the inquest statements we are told that John had no money problems. He owned “considerable property” [5] as well as his dray and horses. Though he was a native Irishman, several people said they had never seen John intoxicated. The notice that appeared in the Kalamazoo Gazette a week after John's death presents an interesting picture. It states: “The deceased was an unfortunately dispositioned man and had more or less difficulty with all whom he dealt and was a person given to despondency at times.” [6] John's son Henry stated before the coroner's jury that John had actually said at the dinner table they would all have to take care of themselves soon. Again, we don't know who told the Gazette John was “unfortunately dispositioned” and John's statement about taking care of “themselves” could have been directed solely at Henry. John was probably tired of working hard so that Henry could remain idle. John had no will drawn up at the time of his death.

So, what could have been troubling John? While I will never know for certain, I will speculate that John and his seventeen-year-old son, Henry, did not see eye-to-eye. While John was apparently industrious, Henry appears to have been the opposite. I haven't found anything to indicate that Henry ever did an honest days work in his life. A few months before John's death Henry began (as far as I can tell) playing base ball for the Kalamazoo Monitors team, and continued playing the game at least into the very early 1880s when he took up gambling schemes for his “occupation.” Baseball was a different kind of game then. While it may have been regaining popularity, I don't think most parents would have been exactly thrilled to have a son involved in the game. At least some base ball players cheated and it also appears that gambling and whoring (and presumably drinking) were not exactly unknown in base ball circles.

For a man like John, having a son who played base ball and apparently had no interest in working hard and becoming a productive member of society was probably quite a blow. John had survived the famine, watched who knows how many people die before his eyes, had come to the US and worked hard to make a better life for himself and his family. Had he worked so hard to watch his eldest son grow into a cocky baseball player who probably thought himself above the dreary life of a laborer? I think this could have contributed to whatever was troubling John, though I would be surprised if John would have taken his life because of it.

So, now we come to the question. Did John commit suicide or not? Considering that this event occurred nearly 150 years ago we will never know the truth and no amount of speculating can change that. Is there a case for suicide? Sure: troubled man, pacing in the yard, having his son drive the dray the day before his death because he was too preoccupied, behaving a bit out of character, but I just wonder if a man like John would have worked so hard only to give up without an obvious trigger. While John certainly would have been physically strong enough to slit his own throat (he was a drayman after all), I just wonder if he would have chosen to kill himself where he couldn't help but watch his young son sleeping. If he did want to end his life, why not take his gun, go outside and end it quickly and relatively painlessly.

With a wound like he had, John Harrigan's death was no accident. I am not convinced that John killed himself. I will never know for certain, but if John didn't commit suicide then he must have been murdered.

For the next installment of this story see: John Harrigan, Who Done It?

You can also see John Harrigan's gravestone and attempt to decipher it.
Or you can learn more about Henry Harrigan and his run-ins with the law.

1. Harvard Injury Control Research Center and Suicide Prevention Resource Center (SPRC). Trends in rates and methods of suicide: United States, 1985-2004. Published 2007 by Suicide Prevention Resource Center.
2. Twentieth Annual report relating to the Registry and Return of Births, Marriages & deaths in Michigan for the year 1886 by the Secretary of State of the State of Michigan. 1888. Thorp & Godfrey, State Printers and Binders. Lansing.
3. The Chronicle February 11, 1886. Vol. 37 (6):246-250. New York.
4. Kellerman AL, Rivara FP, Somes G et al. Suicide in the home in relation to gun ownership. New England Journal of Medicine. 1992. Vol. 327:467-72.
5. Kalamazoo Telegraph, 10-1-1875. P4, Column 3.
6. Kalamazoo Gazette, 10-8-1875.