William J. Dorgan, Sr.

William Joseph Dorgan, Sr. and William Joseph Dorgan III.

The Photo

The photo was taken on August 17, 1969 at the General Hospital of Rhode Island by my cousin, Thomas A. Dorgan, Jr. I was 20 years old, almost 21, and my grandfather was 72. He died 14 years later, on February 22, 1983. This is the only photo I have of him.

My brother, Eddie, found the photo hidden in a drawer of a desk belonging to our father. At the time I met my grandfather, I was heading for Novitiate (a spiritual year of study, prayer, and reflection) with the Carmelites.

My Grandfather

My grandfather had been married twice. No one ever heard of his first wife.

His first marriage was to Jessie Greig, a waitress, on June 9, 1917. They had a son who was born on October 9, 1917 and died on October 15, 1917. They separated in the summer of 1918 and were formally divorced on January 4, 1923.
His second marriage was to Helen Louise McIntosh on July 25, 1923. They had three children, one of whom was my father, William J. Dorgan, Jr.

I had never met my grandfather before. His name or whereabouts were never mentioned. Even as a child, I always wondered what happened to him. After all, every boy had two grandfathers, except me! I was to learn later that he and my grandmother were separated in 1927 and formally divorced on September 22, 1937. Sadly, no one ever mentioned his name to his grandchildren. And it wasn’t until 1969 that I found out about him by chance.

The Meeting

One summer day in 1969, Ann O’Donnell-Dorgan came into the Shepherd Company in downtown Providence where I worked as a clerk in the men’s clothing department. I noticed her charge card said DORGAN. I told her I was a DORGAN and she said her husband was my father’s first cousin. This was a surprise to me, as I had never known my father had any cousins.

We got into a conversation and I asked her if she knew my grandfather. She said, “Yes, I know him. He is my husband’s uncle.” I was flabbergasted. I had no idea if he was dead or alive, and here was confirmation that he was indeed alive!

I asked her if she could put me in contact with him and she said she would have her son, Tommy Dorgan contact me. Within a few days, my newly discovered cousin, Tommy Austin Dorgan, Jr., contacted me and took me to meet my grandfather at the Rhode Island Medical Center (colloquially known at that time as “Howard”).

My grandfather was in the general hospital of the Rhode Island Medical Center because he was indigent. He was a surgical patient, not a psychiatric patient. He had fallen and fractured his hip. He was being discharged in a few days.

Despite what I had heard about him, I immediately liked him, and I could tell that he liked me too. I couldn’t get over how much he looked like my own father, his son, and how all three of us resembled one another. Take another look at the photo! It was uncanny, and a memory burnt into my brain forever.

The Cookout

At this meeting, I spontaneously invited him to come to my father’s home for a “cook-out” and he readily accepted. I picked him up at his home at 21 Beach Avenue in Warwick and drove him to my father’s house at 85 Herschel Street in Providence. He was dandyishly dressed in a white starched shirt, pressed slacks and polished black shoes with his white hair combed impeccably.

He and my Dad had been estranged since the late 1920s-early 1930s. In fact, I believe that my Dad only saw him once at the Providence Police Station in the 1950s. To this day, I am not too sure how my Dad really felt about this meeting that I had arranged without consulting him first or seeking his permission. We never discussed it. But, for me, it was a wonderful encounter indelibly ingrained in my memory … it was simply the right thing to do.

The End

I never saw my grandfather again, but I still think of him. When he died, my own father had a funeral Mass celebrated and buried him properly. My father was always an honorable man.