Frank McLaughlin was as attractive as a bucket of ears. He had bulging eyes, a lantern jaw and a nose flattened by a shovel. 

The Irish immigrant, born in the late 1800s, was built for manual labor. He had a short, muscular body with abnormally long arms proportioned to his stunted torso, giving him an ape-like appearance.

When he applied for his job in a Brockton, Massachusetts factory, the foreman asked him three questions. “Do you drink?” Frank said, “No.” “Do you gamble?” “No.” “Do you cuss?” Frank said, “Sometimes.” The foreman said, “Me too.” Frank was hired — he was 14 years old.

For a 60-hour workweek, Frank was paid $8. The foreman directed him to a boarding house where he could get a bed with breakfast and dinner included. Frank used his profits from his first two weeks salary to buy shoes that fit. 

One of Frank’s advantages was he was his demeanor — he was naturally good-natured. The foreman took a liking to him, and warned him against spending his money foolishly. He said something to Frank that in today’s sensibilities might sound cruel, but actually was pretty good advice at the time.  

“No woman will fall in love with you for your looks. Save your money; with luck, you’ll meet a gal who will look into you, not at you.”

After a few years of factory work, Frank heard of some better paying jobs in a nearby town. He moved to Lynn, Massachusetts and worked shoveling coal, nine hours a day, on the Boston Maine Railroad. His wages doubled, as did his cost of living.  

When he was in his early 20’s he met a gal named Vera. Vera seemed to look into him, not at him, and they began dating and soon married.

Vera was an epileptic, a fact not shared with Frank by either her or her family — this was back when there was no treatment. A year into the marriage Vera had a child named Harry. Soon after giving birth, the frequency and intensity of her seizures increased, eventually causing brain damage. When she was unable to function, Frank was forced to put her in a state home. Harry’s seizures began at around 8 years old and within a few years he, too, needed to be institutionalized. Frank would visit them weekly. 

He moved out of the small rental he had with his family back into a rooming house. The money he saved went into defraying the cost of his wife and son’s upkeep. When epilepsy finally killed his wife he grieved, but for the last few months she did not recognize him and his financial obligation lessened with her passing.

Frank continued to work like a mule and saved his earnings.

Was he happy? I would say a man in his circumstance would consider himself happy if he had enough to eat and a warm place to sleep. Shoveling coal provided all that, and Frank was happy for the work.

Many years earlier Frank had met Bridget, an Irish immigrant as unattractive as himself. Frank was smitten. Bridget discouraged his attention as she had her eyes set on John O’Malley, a first-generation man with good looks and a good job. John was handsome, but also a drinker and a bad husband. After giving her three children, he abandoned her and was never heard from again. The only good result of the union were Bridget’s three kids — one of them being my mother. Bridget was unable to care of her children so she was forced to surrender custody to the parents of the man who deserted her.

Through hard work and frugality Frank was able to buy an old car. Though years had passed, he never forgot about Bridget. When he learned of her circumstances, he drove his jalopy to her home.

I’ll never know if Bridget agreeing to marry Frank was love or convenience. But I do know their marriage lasted until Frank’s death decades later. They lived a modest life on Frank’s salary, and later Social Security checks, for four decades.

Frank’s son Harry remained in the institution until his 70’s, when my oldest brother adopted him and brought him to live in his home after his kids moved away. Harry’s last few years were his happiest.

Whenever I begin to feel sorry for myself in regards to any challenges or circumstances life throws my way, I think how good I have it, how good most of us have it, compared to our relations of only a couple of generations before. Our lives have been made easier by standing on the shoulders of their struggles.