Annie Rita Riley – a Riley, although not of Pawtucket, was born in Washington, DC, but now lives on the West Coast. Her parents, Joan M. Burggraf and Stephen F. Riley still live in DC, as does her sister Kate. Her paternal grandparents were the late Rita P. Coleman (1917 – 1974) and the late Francis C. Riley (1915 – 2004).
Annie’s Harvard/Stanford education has led her to some very interesting business opportunities and personal adventures. Presently, Annie owns and operates Riley LLC. Her consulting firm services “venture-backed clients across a range of industries, with a focus on marketplace businesses.” (Hey, I was a substitute teacher once.)
Even though she is at the beginning of her career, Annie has had the opportunity to serve on several boards and non-profit organizations. One of her more interesting projects involves South America’s Patagonia National Park!
Happy Birthday, Annie, may the mountain streams and your years ahead all be crystal clear.
William “Bill” Leo Riley, Jr., oldest son of William Leo Riley, Sr. (1912-1985) and Helen Manning Riley (1921-1924), celebrates a major birthday today.
Bill has had himself a couple of very big events in the last few days with retirement last week and today’s celebration.
Hey, Bill, how was it having the opportunity to sleep in on a Monday morning?
Happy Birthday, Bill, we at 19pondstreet will lift a cold one in your honor!
Kathleen (Katie) Riley, was born on this date in Providence to Pawtucket’s Reagan McVay and Paul Christopher Riley, son of William Leo Riley (1912-1985) and Helen Manning Riley (1921-1994)
Katie grew up in the Pawtucket neighborhood just off Columbus and Newport Avenues. This was where she saw a lot of her cousin, Joan Riley Daley (1929-2019), who lived just across the street!
Katie, the Riley clan wishes you the Happiest of Birthdays.
Bill Riley, son of William L. Riley (1912-1985) and Helen Manning Riley (1921-1994) handed in his papers today and retired after a long career in the grocery industry.
Thanks Bill for being one of the area’s essential workers. We appreciate your work and dedication.
Here’s to you Bill. Happy Retirement from all of us at the 19pondstreet corporate office and all our readers.
William Leo Riley, Sr. (1912-1985) was born in Pawtucket. With the exception of his 3 1/2 years in the US Army during WWII, Bill lived his life residing within a mile of where he was born.
He married Helen Manning in September of 1952. The couple had three children, Patricia, William L. (Bill), Paul, and later three grandchildren.
I always called him Uncle Bill. Smart, knowledgeable on many subjects, and ready to engage in conversation. When you’d see him come into the house on Pond Street, or the home on Wilton Avenue, he’d gently doff his soft felt Fedora hat, nod his head, say hello to everyone, and chime in on the news of the day.
Uncle Bill, a second generation Irish-American, was a hard working family guy and a combat infantry soldier in France and Italy. Here is my favorite picture of him in his soldier kakis.
Not sure where this was taken, maybe just before he shipped out to the European Theater.
Check out the April 28, 2014 blog entry to see a portion of a hand written letter Bill sent to my father from somewhere in France while conducting his combat missions.
Brian Lightfoot Brown, son of Patricia Riley Brown and Keith Romaine Brown, grandson of William Leo Riley (1912-1985) and Helen (Manning) Riley (1921-1994) was born in Westerly, Rhode Island but grew up in Pawtucket.#
Brian is now living in the Phoenix, Arizona area, but as you can read from a recent posting, Brian still feels Pawtucket’s strong emotional tug. I thought it would be nice to include his own words in today’s birthday acknowledgement. Brian’s words not only verify the adage, “A house is a home,” but are a loving reference to his grandfather, William, who was born 108 years ago on July 24th.
“So the house I grew up in is for sale. The house was perfectly placed between Memorial Hospital and McCoy Stadium. I grew up on Arch Street in Pawtucket, Rhode Island. My maternal grandparents bought this house in March of 1954, when my Mother was just 6 months old. Both grandparents were from Pawtucket, but this house was more in my Grandfather’s stomping grounds. My Grandparents added 2 sons to the household and raised their family at 81 Arch Street. I recall many visits to see my Grandparents. In 1979, my parents got divorced and my Mother moved back in with my Grandparents, but with my younger brother and I in tow. My Mom’s youngest brother still lived at home, finishing college at that time. This was my home, my Mother’s home before that. My Grandfather built a shed in the backyard, literally finishing it merely 2 weeks or so before his death in 1985. This was the house where I was raised. The backyard where I played baseball with friends and where my high school graduation party was held in 1992. My Grandmother held on to the house until her death in 1994. My Uncle then moved out, it was just my Mom, my brother and I in the house now. My brother and I were just getting into our young adult years, cracking into our 20s. But then in 1999, we had to give up the house and move. This has honestly disturbed me ever since. A few months after we moved out, a high school acquaintance of my brother’s bought the house. It was unnerving to see someone living there, but what could we do. Years later, it appeared that the owners moved out and were renting the home but made some renovations and yesterday, my brother showed me photos and that our childhood home is for sale. Oh how I wish I could afford it. I have vowed that if I ever come into enough money, I will buy this house back. It will be a chip on my shoulder until the day comes when my family owns this house, or until I take my last breath on this earth. There is no “getting over it, I will always long for reconnection to this house, end of story.”
Happy Birthday, Brian! May you be blessed with a powerful air conditioner. In Phoenix, the high temp is expected to be 100 with a low of 85 on your special day.
A proud Narragansett, Brian Lightfoot Brown at Scorpion Gulch, Phoenix, AZ
Paul Christopher Riley came into this world in Providence, but lived his younger years in Pawtucket within earshot of the cheers and jeers of McCoy Stadium.
Paul is the third child born to William Leo Riley (1912-1985) and Helen Frances Manning (1921-1994). His paternal grandparents were Patrick Leo Riley (1875-1955) and Marguetta E. Greenhalgh (1876-1962).
A double Saint and a Friar (St Joseph’s, St Ray’s and Providence College), Paul could, and probably still can, play an effortless second base. Just about everyone of a certain age in Pawtucket knows this “Riles.” The type of guy who stands with you, stands for you and stands by you.
Have a good one today, Paul!
Here is Paul (on the left) with his sister Patricia and brother Bill.
Jacob Richard Ferreira was born on this day in Providence to Staci Fleury and Michael Ferreira. Jacob’s grandparents (on the Riley side) are Darleen and Richard (Rick) Fleury.
As a six year old, Jacob is probably not that interested that his Birthday is being acknowledged on the blog. Today his attention is most likely focused elsewhere on things like cake, ice cream, a party, a present or two and having a good time. After all, it is his special day.
It’s a great time for the Ferreiras and the Fleurys to celebrate, to look forward to what is to come and to review what has been. Also, this gives 19pondstreet the opportunity to introduce a new generation, a 6th generation of Americans. Jacob, his brother Zachary, and their four cousins can trace themselves back to May 28, 1862, when Pat Reilly and Rosa Kearnan walked down The Neptune’s gangplank and stepped out into New York City.
Here is the generational line:
1st gen – Patrick Leo Riley (1875-1955) – Patrick and Rosa’s son
2nd gen – Patrick Joseph Riley (1900-1985)
3rd gen – Barbara Hope Riley Fleury (1927-2015)
4th gen – Richard B. Fleury, Jr
5th gen – Staci Fleury Ferreira
6th gen – Jacob Richard Ferreira
Bet Patrick and Rosa would probably say those fourteen days spent in Neptune’s steerage was well worth it.
Happy Birthday Jacob. May all your future ride be great!
Patrick Leo Riley,* was born on June 7th in 1875 and passed away on April 7, 1955. “Grandpa Riley” was one of 8 Riley First Generation Americans. Later on, Patrick Leo and Marguetta Greenhalgh (1876-1962) contributed 9 new Americans, and aren’t we glad that occurred!
Rose Riley,* shared her June 7th birthday with her brother, Patrick Leo, but she was born twelve later, in 1887. Rose lived her life in Pawtucket and passed on April 5, 1973.
Patrick Leo with Marguetta and three and half year old Dennis – August 1951
see post of June 7th, 2019 for more complete information.
Patsy, as his sisters called him, would have been 120 today. A second generation American, PJ witnessed many changes. As a young man he experienced the common sight of horse and buggy’s on the streets of Pawtucket and later saw man walk on the moon. He survived his own attack of the Spanish Flu and lived through the Great Depression, WWI, and WWII. He had five children and lost two wives. Patrick Joseph was blessed with a personality that allowed all he met to feel important and relaxed. He had a mountain of patience, he had to, he was my dad.
Sunday morning at the Monitor Club (L-R) Fred Casey, owner and my Godfather; Bill Coleman, Rita Riley’s brother, Patrick J. Riley and Happy Leeburn
Andrew Greenhalgh was born on this day in 1879 in Lonsdale, Rhode Island to the late Margaret Cullen (1848-1915) and the late John Greenhalgh (1845-1907).
This is the first time that a Greenhalgh has been featured in this blog. Why so? Well, one of Andrew’s five siblings was Marguetta E. (Greenhalgh) Riley (1876-1962), known by most of the older, present day Rileys as Grandma Riley.
Uncle Andrew Greenhalgh and his sister, Marguetta E. Riley
As best as I can remember, Uncle Andrew was “a presence” at #19-21 Pond Street. After checking the census records and the city directories, it appears Uncle Andrew began living with the Pond Street Rileys sometime in 1935. He remained in-residence, and an integral part of the family, until his death in 1962.
However during World War II, Uncle Andrew spent time in Waterbury, Connecticut. At the age of 61, Andrew went there to work in a factory in support of the War effort. A printer by trade, he utilized those skills in his factory job. At the time, Andrew lived with his fellow workers in an open dormitory type setting at the Waterbury Boys’ Club.
Back in the early 1940’s, working toward the War effort was the routine. What made Uncle Andrew’s effort noteworthy was his physical handicap. When he was a child, Andrew fell off the back of a tip cart
For those of you unfamiliar with what a tip cart looked like.
and severely injured his right leg, resulting in a permanent handicap. For the rest of his life, his leg was encased in a heavy metal brace that ran from just above his knee to the bottom of his shoe. It looked like it weighed a ton.
The brace may have slowed him down a bit, but didn’t stop him. Uncle Andrew’s prized possessions were his huge cars fully equipped with hand controls. If I remember correctly, he braked with his left leg, while the speed and shifting were controlled with hand levers. His automobiles always had lots of chrome and large, decorative continental kits hanging off the back. The cars had lots of color and personality, something that some say Uncle Andrew lacked.
When I was growing up, whenever there would be a reference to Andrew, the referring phrase would always be, “Poor Uncle Andrew.” It was said in obvious sympathy, because of the physical struggles he endured. Through the years, Grandma Riley, along with Marion and Gertie, really went to great lengths to support and encourage him. Being a printer by trade, and never owning his own business, his financial well-being wasn’t the best. He was supported and augmented financially by his nieces Marion and Gertie. It was very typical of his two kind nieces.
In 1962, on a Sunday morning, a couple of weeks after Uncle Andrew’s passing, the task of going through his belongings fell to his nephews, Patrick J. and Francis C. Riley. There weren’t many clothes and just a few personal items. At the foot of his bed was an old trunk, which his two nephews had to pry open with a hammer and screwdriver. As they were sorting through the last of his worldly possessions, the sympathetic and endearing phrase of “Poor Uncle Andrew” took an unsuspected twist. Low and behold, the trunk held some neatly tied stacks of cash! Seems Poor Uncle Andrew had been stashing away cash for a rainy day – or year. The exact amount may have been north of $30,000. The then, laughing brothers turned the money back over to Marion and Gertie…heck, it was probably their own money.
The year was 1918 and the Rileys, Marguette (1876-1962) and Patrick L. (1875-1955) and their seven kids were renting part of a three decker at #146 Pond Street in Pawtucket. It would be several years before they moved to the more familiar #19 Pond Street address.
The house at #146, which sits at the corner of Pond and Arch, is two blocks from present day McCoy Stadium. Back then, McCoy Stadium didn’t exist. It was just a swampy pond next to a grassy area. Some area residents grazed a cow or two on that grass. In fact, every morning, our Irish immigrant ancestor, Patrick Riley (1835-1906) led his cow from the backyard of his house at #181 South Bend Street over to that green patch. But, that’s another whole story which will be told in some other post.
Here is a present day photo of the house on 146 Pond Street :
Here’s how the story goes.
Summer was just about over, but there had not yet been a hint of the coming autumn chill. But for some, that autumn was never to arrive. The “Spanish flu” had taken hold and lots of people were falling ill, very ill.
My father, Patrick J. Riley (1900-1985) said he hadn’t felt well all day at work. At the time, he was an inventory clerk at US Finishing (see May 19th entry for photo). My father said when he got home from work that day, he went right up to his bed on the third floor. For the next five days, he battled the Spanish flu. It wasn’t until five or six days later that my father regained consciousness, when he heard people talking in the street right below his window. Mustering all his strength, he got up to see about the commotion. My father stuck his head out the window (before screens) and feebly waved to the guys down below. At the time, he didn’t realize why his friends were all grouped together. They were just about to knock on the door and pay their respects to his mother, because the word had gone out that “PJ” had died from the “Spanish Flu,” When the guys realized it was “PJ” who was waving from the window on the 3rd floor, they became excited and began to sing “For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow“.
Picture “PJ” Riley sticking his head out of the top 3rd floor window on the right.
My father told me that he didn’t realize all that happened until another three or four days had passed, when he began to recover form his near death experience.
When he went back to work at US Finishing, he didn’t get paid for a month. No sick leave back then, and they docked his next pay period to cover the cost of the person who replaced him while he was laid up.
I did a bit of research and read that between 2,000 – 2,500 Rhode Islanders died from that pandemic. Massachusetts was really hit hard with up to 45,000 deaths, many of those located in communities in and around the Fort Devens area.
Below is a link to the CDC timeline for 1918-1929 flu pandemic:
Influenza, by Dr. Jerry Brown is an interesting read concerning the history and spread of that “Spanish Flu.” I read it about two years ago and thought it was a good read even then.
Joan Louise (Riley) Daley was born on this day in 1929 in the City of Pawtucket to the late Margaret Cecelia McSally Riley (1900-1938) and the late Patrick J. Riley (1900-1985). Her maternal grandparents were the late Margaret A. (Corbishley) McSally (1877-1940) and James A. McSally (1875-1928). On Joan’s paternal side, her grandmother was Marguetta E. (Greenhalgh) Riley (1976-1962) and Patrick Leo Riley (1875-1955).
Joan, the second born of Margaret and Patrick, lived her life in Pawtucket.
Joanie and her “older sister’ Barbara
When Joan was only eight years old, she and her three siblings lost their mother to cancer. Joan was probably a 2nd grader when her mother passed.
After attending J.C. Potter Elementary School, Lyman Goff Junior High School and graduating from Tolman High School in 1946, Joan began her working career.
Joan’s high school graduation picture
One of her first positions was with Pinault’s Pharmacy, on the corner of Armistice and Newport Avenues. Joan, along with her older sister Barbara, worked all the counters, except for the one that sold liquor.
After a while, Joan became a “telephone operator” with NET & T (New England Telephone and Telegraph). It was a coveted position, which Joan held for some time. Later on in her working career, she was a supervisor in a newspaper distribution company. Joan was a long-time teacher’s aide for the Pawtucket School Department, working along side her sister-in-law Kathy Riley.
It was on November 9, 1952 that Joan Louise Riley married Frederick “Nick” A. Daley (1927-1991) in St. Leo’s Church in Pawtucket, RI. The reception was held at Joan’s home, 37 Perrin Avenue, Pawtucket. The administrator of this blog can still remember what a great time that was, and the desserts were the best!
Joan and Nick brought six children into the world: Fred (1957-1957), Tammie, Maryanne, John, Lynne and Elizabeth. When Joan left us on June 29, 2019, this Daley family had grown to include 11 grandchildren.
Don’t know if there was ever a more loyal Red Sox fan than Joan. God forbid if you told her you were a Yankee fan! Pretty sure she has already had many a conversation with all the Red Sox players who somehow have managed to make it into heaven.
Dennis Patrick J. Riley was born on this day in Providence, Rhode Island to the late Margaret F. (Bartley) Riley (1911-1978) and the late Patrick J. Riley (1900-1985). His great grandfather, Patrick Leo Riley (1875-1955), was a first-generation American, which makes Dennis a third-generation American.
First camera 63 years ago today
Benefiting from growing up in the Darlington section of Pawtucket and having twelve years of Catholic school education, Dennis’s life went relatively smoothly. Not too much to report, other than being blessed with great parents and having two wonderful sisters (Barbara & Joan) and two tempestuous brothers (Bill & Jim) whom had already reached adulthood by the time he was born, thereby allowing him to be spoiled to the enth degree! He thoroughly enjoyed every minute of it.
Taken at home 37 Perrin Ave, Pawtucket
Blessed to be married to Kathleen Mary McLoughlin Riley and thank you to the Sisters of Mercy…
19 Pond Street 