Aunt Mary's Memoirs: XXV

In the spring of 1924, Papa died. There had been a late heavy snow and he had shoveled paths from the house to the milkhouse and barn, piling it three feet high on either side. He caught a cold, pneumonia developed, and he died within a week.
I had been away at a party at a girlfriend's house on Saturday night and had stayed over Sunday with her. When I came home and learned my father was so ill I immediately went to his room. He was always proud of being a Byrne, and now told me to never forget who I was and to take pride in my family heritage. I was a young lady at this time and worked as a secretary in an insurance office in Philadelphia and had several young men courting me.
End of Chapter One