Recollections of Aileen Cashman 6-30-2002
Daddy (Vincent) used to gamble a lot, he would always try to get what he lost back. He was proud of me because I could always win and walk away.
Irene was such a good person and so pretty. My mom and dad adored her. She was the lamb among the (Cashman) wolves. The Hearne’s were a good looking family.
Nana Cashman was strong, domineering and possessive. If she didn’t have a family, she would have ruled the world. The way she got over here was mysterious. Evidently, the way I understand it; her father wasn’t in the picture. Her family was very affluent and the rest of her family resented that she got all this money to come over here. She had to go to court one time because they were trying to get money back from her. It was ruled in her favor. Her family was from Cork City, Queenstown.
I remember Uncle Gene; he was a good man. At Nana’s funeral, he had tears in his eyes. When daddy and uncle Gene were little boys going to St, James school, the Brothers (teachers) would hand them fire and brimstone; if you went this way you’d be an angel, if you went the other way you’d go to hell. Gene prayed on the way home, daddy said the hell with that, I’m going to take my chances; I’ll be like Abe Roef, the corrupt mayor of SF. They were so different yet so close. What a guy your grandfather was.
Mark (Saterlie) was my godson. He was a terrific ballplayer, if he had only stayed with something, he could have made it big. He pitched for Tamalpias High School and was very good and so funny. He drank and probably smoked marijuana but you’d never know it. He was always in trouble. He idolized my father and one day he (Vincent) told him, “I think I’m going to be 86ed in 86”. He died in Jan. 1986.
During the last years of his life my father stopped drinking, just stopped cold, and he was never crabby about it. I would come home he’d say, come on I have your libation ready, but he never drank with me.
When daddy came back from WWI, Gene had his bed and daddy kicked him out of it because it was his bed.
When mom and dad got married, Nana Cashman put a down payment on this house in Bernal Heights (360 Highland Ave). Mama came from Oak Street. She didn’t want to be planted up on Bernal Heights. It didn’t make her very happy. But mama made a darling garden and had a darling little house, but she always wanted to be over with her family on Oak Street. So that’s way Nana didn’t endear herself to Gertrude.
I spent a week with Nana with my brother and sister at Boyes. She didn’t let us play with any other kids. And she would say to us every night, “examine you conscience. As I look back on it now, I realize she was very nice to me and picked out a lot of good books for me to read. She was very intelligent. It goes with the territory; they all had brains, it was the way they used them. Just like me, I was pretty brainy, but what did I do with it? She told us she used to dive off the Queensland Harbor into the Irish Sea; she was a swimmer.
I remember Pat [Brogan-Durdell] vividly. Daddy would always help out Agnes. James Brogan was a brilliant man but gambled and drank too much. He was quite a scholar. Agnes was rather rough hune. She was more manipulative, and kind of cold in ways. Mama was going to adopt Joseph when he was three years old because something happened. But that never worked out. He grew into a nice young guy. He was so blonde and cute as a boy, and when you asked him how old he was he’d say, “three in June”. And don’t remind me of Howard. He was manipulative, shrewd, articulate, crooked as they come. He used to drive daddy nuts because daddy fished him out of so many things and then finally, no more. I remember once we were at Nana’s house and he called me over to the chicken shed and showed me his hands full of bloody chicken necks and wanted me to put them out. Oh, was he a mean son of a gun. And he was older, then. Frank was gorgeous, big blue eyes. He was killed tragically in Fort Ord. Pat was adorable, lonely. Mom used to feel sorry for her. When she grew up we went to a couple of dances together. She was a beautiful woman and her first marriage didn’t work out. She was pretty restless then, almost neurotic. Then I saw her again when she was old and with her second husband. I brought her a ring and she gave me a necklace. I had a nice time with her. She used to write once in a while. She had a tough life.
I’ve got my life taken care, I belong to Neptune Society, I’m single, I don’t want anyone praying over me; just scatter those ashes.
My brother (Michael) died too soon, and could do anything, his friends were great, but then, let me tell you, he was the handsomest guy, he was so dexterous.
Daddy was pretty much on the straight and narrow except when he was giving mama a long story about where he’d been and that he hadn’t been drinking that much, but she’d always know because there was a little damp lock of his hair hanging down and she knew he had been to the pub. They loved each other til the end, there was nobody else. When mama died of a stroke, the ladies would be coming around for dad and he would say, “I’ve only had one doll.” Dad was 86 and died of old age, his heart.
“My recollection was that Minnie was adopted by an uncle who owned a meat packing plant in Queenstown. I don’t know what happened to her parents. He was quite wealthy. It was he that financed her trip to America and later his relatives sued her for the money but she won the case in court.”
Vincent was in WWI and had a red cross tattooed on him, Uncle Gene had a horse head. Denis had a large cross on his chest. Vincent had shrapnel wounds and was in all the big battles in the Marines.
Vincent "was 16 when he enlisted in the Marines during WWI. He was very boyish looking and thin. On his way home after the war, in Norfolk, Virginia, he lit up a cigarette and a lady remanded him that she would call the boy scouts and tell them he was smoking." -Aileen Cashman
Vincent and sister, Aileen, 1918
Vincent joined the Marines on March 1, 1917 under a false name, Richard Spader. It was found out July 7, 1917 and he was "re-named" Vincent D. He was stationed at Mare Island, the Navy Radio Station in Marshall, Calif. and in North Head, Washington. He was transferred to Quantico, Virginia on August 8, 1918 and the to Brest, France Rest Camp on Sept. 9, 1918 inthe 13th Regiment of "F" Company. His regiment then moved to Camp Montoir at Saint Nazare, France in October 1918. In March of 1918 he was "confined awaiting investigation" and from March 29-31 he was listed as AWOL. He was sentenced to hard labor in May of 1919. He was shipped back to the Naval Hospital in Quantico, VA. on the USS Antigone. He was discharged July 15, 1919 "not in the line of duty" character was "excellent".
Children of Denis and Gertrude
Aileen C. Cashman was born on October 26, 1924. She worked for the San Francisco Examiner.
"When I won my journalism prizes in High School, I got a 20 dollar bill in the mail, it was anonymous, but it was from Nana [Minnie Cashman]."
She never married and lived in her father's house until she died on December 18, 2008. Her children were her MANY cats.
Daniel Vincent (Michael) Cashman was born on October 22, 1926 in San Francisco. He was a fireman in the SFFD. He married and divorced twice. His marriage to Rita Marie Ross in 1955 produced 2 sons and a daughter. They divorced in 1971. Daniel died on October 15, 1983.
Muriel Frances Cashman was born on May 11, 1928. She married Joseph Crosby in 1946; they divorced. She then married Vernen Leroy Saterlie on Sept. 17, 1949 in San Francisco. They had 3 boys and 2 girls. Mark Christoher, their eldest (born in 1951) died Oct. 2001 in Sebastoplol, Calif. Eric Brian (Ricky) their second child (born 1952) died in Marin County in 1972. David, their youngest (born in 1961) died in February 1993 in Sonoma County, Calif. Vernon Saterlie died on March 3, 2007. Muriel passed away on June 4, 2003 in Villa Grande, California.