My Dad, Timothy Francis Aloysius McGee, was born in January 1909 to Mary Josephine Callahan and Hugh McGee. They were poor and Mary Jo had only gone to the fourth grade.
Tim was a loyal and devoted sort. He bragged about the schools he attended and loved the nuns. Raised in Swampoodle, he went to Our Lady of Mercy and his pride and joy, Roman Catholic High School. We all had to sing the school song almost every day.
Dad was a great athlete, the center and captain of the football team. Although he won college scholarships, he was forced to take a clerk’s job at the Acme. His father had deserted the family and he was needed to support Mary Jo.
He had this idea of selling bouquets of flowers to stores —which eventually led him becoming one of the largest wholesale florist in the city.
Tim was going to make sure his children were would live a different lifestyle than he had. We, Tim Jr., me, Joanne and Hugh all were sent to private schools, LaSalle and Mt. St. Joseph Academy. This is what I love about the Irish—they have a zeal to educate their children. We also had to take golf lessons and ballroom dancing. Every Sunday night, the family would go to Whitemarsh Valley Country Club for dinner. The band would play “I’ll Take You Home Again, Kathleen” and Dad and I would dance to the song for which I was named.
Tim was a handsome man who loved to sing and dance. He was quite the bon vivant. Each season he would have a dress theme. One year it was gingham, seer-sucker dress pants with a matching linen jacket. He even had a boat which he named “The Tim McGee” and for a while, he drove a 1927 Rolls Royce (left to him by his son, Tim, Jr., who had become a well-known Philadelphia architect).
And speaking of that, Joanne has a master’s in library sciences, Hugh graduated from Penn State with a doctorate in Civil Engineering and I completed two years of Law School…all of this from Mary Jo’s son.
He taught me how to network; look them in the eyes and give a hardy handshake. He belonged to the Philopatrian Club and the Friendly Sons of St. Patrick.
Sadly, he never knew that his roots were in Donegal and that he had a huge, successful family in Gweedore. Those McGee’s look so much like his brother, Hughie. There are many things that my Father, Tim McGee, never lived to see:
- his daughter, Kathleen, join the Friendly Sons of St. Patrick and become the 4th Woman ever to be Grand Marshal of the Philadelphia St. Patrick’s Day Parade.
- his granddaughter, Kelly Wall, be sworn in as a Judge in Montgomery Co. Court of Common Pleas.
- his great-grandsons, Alex and Brendan, win club championships at Whitemarsh Valley C.C.
- and his great-great grandson, Jackson, age 1, smile and look at you with those dark, Donegal eyes.
Thanks, Dad. We miss you and thank you for every family goal achieved and know that your dreams and aspirations live deep within us, to be carried forward with each generation.