THE HUGHES FAMILY
As told by Jack Hughes, oldest son
Eugene J. Hughes Anna Theresa Wright
“Gene” “Nance”
CHILDREN:
John T. “Jack 1923
Mary T. “Mollie” 1925
Richard A. “Dick” 1927
Anna T. “Nancy” 1929
Margaret “Peggy Jane” 1931 (Died 2014)
Gene was born in Scranton, Pa. and was the oldest of four boys. His father, Michael “Mike” died when Gene was twelve years old. Two brothers died early in life. His kid brother, Richard “Dick”, his mother (we called her “Ammy”) and her brother, John Hanlon, moved to Wilkes-Barre.
Gene and Nance met at one of the dance halls in Wilkes-Barre, married and settled in Larksville, Pa. and lived next door to Mom and Pop Wright. I think it was 86 State Street.
All five children were born in that house and delivered by Mrs. Elko, a midwife, The story is that Mrs. Elko was a doctor in Austria, came to America, and became a midwife because she couldn’t speak English well enough to pass the test to become a doctor in the U.S. She probably delivered most of the babies in Larksville, Edwardsville and Plymouth.
Gene got a job at the coal mines where he was assigned a mule called “Sparky” who would pull the filled cars of coal to the coal yards.
Gene wanted to become a cop, but not in a small town like Larksville His desire was to be a cop in Wilkes-Barre where they had about sixty or so policemen on the force. The problem was you had to be a resident of Wilkes-Barre to be eligible to take the tests. So, after about seven years, Gene and Nance decided to move to Wilkes-Barre. They moved back in with Gene’s mother, his brother Dick and Uncle John Hanlon.
He applied for the police force but had to wait a few years before being selected. He worked on the cruiser car with different partners for about ten or eleven years on the 3:00 P.M. to 11:00 P.M. shift. He was then assigned the beat on the day shift on Public Square and South Main Street. He stayed there until he retired – a total of 28 years on the force.
Random memories
as told by Jack Hughes
We moved to Wilkes-Barre during the summer of 1930 or 1931 (I think). We lived in a double block next door to the Meehans. Mrs. Meehan and her husband, Johnny, had twelve children. Previously, she had been married to a man named Moran who had died. She had five children with him for a total of seventeen – and we thought our Wright family was large!
One day Johnny was having soup for supper when a rock came through the window and landed in his bowl of soup, smashing the bowl to pieces. He didn’t care about the window being broken, but the soup bowl was his favorite. The rock was thrown by my brother, Dick, the first of his many acts.
We then moved to Welles Street where Dick fell off the back porch and broke his collar bone and our first dog, Trix, died.
My father drove a gas truck for the State Department. That lasted about two years until the Republicans were voted in and the Democrats went out of power. He was a Democrat at the time so he lost his job.
We moved to a home on Dougher Lane where we lived a normal life, except the one night after supper my sister Mollie came to where I was playing ball with my buddies and she yelled for me to come home because it was my turn to wash the dishes. I chased her home and when Dad stopped me, I told her what she did. He told me I didn’t have to do the dishes anymore. Mollie didn’t like it, but I did!!!
After that we moved to Market Street where we did most of our growing up.
I thought my mother was the best person ever. I loved her. She was an excellent seamstress and made dresses for the girls and shirts for Dick and me. She eventually made wedding dresses and gowns for the family. She also made aprons for the ladies in the area which she sold for 50 cents each. One day a lady came to the door to pick up two aprons she had ordered. My mother was busy and asked Dad to answer the door. He did, and he charged her $1.50 for the two aprons. The lady said she always paid 50 cents and Dad said the price is now 75 cents. Mother was mortified, but the price stayed at 75 cents and the ladies still ordered them.
We then got another German Police dog who followed Dick all over. The first trick Dick taught our “new” Trix was to lap water from the kitchen sink. Trix would put his paws on the sink and then bark until someone turned on the water. (P.S. No, Trix didn’t turn off the water!)
After my dad lost his job with the state, he did any odd job he could get. He papered and painted rooms and outsides of houses. He also went to the railroad freight yards where cars came in loaded with 100 pound bags of sugar, flour, etc. and had to be unloaded. He got picked because he was big and strong and wanted to work. Other guys would walk away and say that it was too much work.
I remember being on relief for a while and wore cheap shoes. The soles on the shoes always came loose. Yuck!!! Then one day, Mayor Loveland came to our home and told Dad he was selected for the Wilkes-Barre police force. Big Day!!! I also remember his pay – it was $157.50 per month. That was darn good money at that time. I think the year was 1933.
After that, Dad said he was going to vote Republican because they gave him the job. That didn’t please the Wright family, but they stayed friends anyway.
Dad was strict and we all had jobs to do. I had to make sure the coal buckets were filled for the kitchen and dining room stoves. At night when I went to the cellar, I would bang the bucket on the wall to make noise so the “critters” would run and hide. It was a dirt basement. Go figure!
Dad and Paul Dietrick were on the cruiser car patrolling the Heights when the saw a kid on a “pushy” (a pushy was like a scooter only it was made with 2” x 4” x 2 1/2′ boards and a roller skate, which was taken apart. You would nail half to the front and half to the rear of the board. Another 2” x 4” x 2 1/2′ was nailed vertically on the front and a bar was put on top for steering). Anyway, Dad stopped the boy and told him it was illegal to use them on the street. He asked him where he got it, and the boy told him he bought it from a boy who lived on Market St. and his name was Dicky Hughes. That was the end of “pushies” in the Heights.
My brother was a good singer and every time we went to Larksville, Pop would have him sing “I Wish My Pa was a Janitor Man” several times for him. Dick also used to sing Al Jolson songs from the movie “The Al Jolson Story”, featuring the songs “Mammy”, “Swannie” and others. He knew all the moves and pantomimed them to recordings He was coached by my sister, Nancy, who also knew all the words and music but wouldn’t sing them outside the home. She had a good voice, too.
Dad had a good voice, also. Our house was always filled with music. We had a combination radio and record player which was used all the time. We only had 78 RPM records at the time, and each week we bought the newest ones. We had a great time growing up!
One of Dick’s jobs was to shine Dad’s police shoes and leggings. He made a shoeshine box and went to the streets shining shoes. Public Square was the best place to shine shoes because it was crowded. Dick would yell “Shoe Shine – only 5 cents” (everybody else charged 10 cents). The customers would give him the 5 cents and Dick would shine one shoe. He would then tell the guy it would be another 5 cents to shine the other shoe. When the guy would yell at him, Dick would turn to his dog and say “Trix!” and Trix would start to growl. The guy would give in and pay the other 5 cents.
Sounds like the Dick Hughes Story!
Our Mollie was the smart one in the family. She was St. Mary’s “Queen of May” twice in school, once in 8th grade and once in high school. After graduation she went into Nursing School for three years. Those were the years I was in the Navy and got out just in time to attend her graduation from Nursing School, which was run by Mercy Hospital. She then worked for the hospital and eventually was promoted to Supervisor on the second shift where she met her future husband, Bill Smith, who was an X-ray Technician. They got married and lived happily ever after, raising three children – Nancy, Bill and Gene.
After High School, my Uncle John got me a job at Columbia Mills where they made tablecloths and curtains. It was one of the better places to work at the time because you could work your way up to be a Weaver who, at that time, made about $70 per week. May worked there, too, and that’s where we met. May liked to roller skate and usually went to the South Main St. Armory with her girlfriend, Emily. I went there a few times just to see May because I was a lousy skater. In our house Dick (there we go again) was the skater and worked for the Armory. He had to skate backwards to hold back skaters who tried to go too fast.
(Back to the Heights):
My mother was very mean! (only kidding) When one of us was “acting up”, she would threaten to tell Dad on us and you would know what would happen then. But she never told! One time I did something wrong and she chased me around the dining room table but wore herself out laughing.
During the Depression, we didn’t have air conditioning so we had to use half-screens on the windows. The flies were smart enough to come in through the opening between the screen and the window. Using fly swatters helped a little, but the best was a fly catcher that was about a 2” or 3” cup that was hung from the ceiling and when you pulled the bottom out, it stretched out to about 2 feet with glue paper. The used to get loaded with flies before we threw it away and bought a new one. Probably not right away, though, because money was tight then.
In the Heights, our kitchen had a screen door with a spring which closed the door after you went out, then “slammed” shut. Every time we went out, Mother would yell “Don’t slam the screen”. ‘SLAM”, she never finished before it slammed.
Oh, well, just memories……….