Judge not, lest ye be judged (Part III)

A personal, family story about the challenges of Developmental Disability, Part III

Part III — When the McBride’s younger children were growing up they likely did not realize the difficult life Paul McBride led. Later, the full arc of that life would unfold to a stunning degree.

After Paul obtained his job at a family farm outside of Milwaukee, he struggled. It is unclear when he left that farm, but at some point he left the farm, and later in his life would suffer a series of ups and downs and struggles. He would even suffer a period of homelessness, and alcoholism. He developed diabetes and went on disability before he was forced to retire.

After Paul left his job at the family farm he struggled, working a series of odd jobs. At some point, he developed his dependence on alcohol (clearly a family trait) and Ray and Toni lost track of him. My father would later expressed how guilty he was for not knowing what happened to his brother during this period, but of course with his own problems Ray was struggling himself; and he also had seven children.

Incredibly, Ray eventually found out that Paul was spending some of his time at the Rescue Mission, a mission that helped the homeless, which was just two blocks from Ray’s office in downtown Milwaukee near State Street (and also near Toni’s office; the Rescue Mission has now moved but at the time was at about 6th and State Street, and the Milwaukee Journal was at 4th and State Street). It is likely that Paul had been wandering the streets near Ray and Toni’s offices for weeks if not months.

Ray and Toni helped Paul get him on his feet again and eventually got him placed in an apartment in Fond du Lac, WI. He worked as a janitor there until he eventually developed diabetes and was forced to quit work and go on disability.

Paul McBride (lower left) pictured with (l to r): Toni McBride, and his nephew Pat McBride, brother Ray McBride, and nephews Tim McBride and Dennis McBride (date unknown).

Though Paul clearly had some difficulties functioning and maintaining his daily life, he was able to function to some extent. But in his later years it became clear that he could not manage his money well. Whether that was because he had so little money (living on public assistance), or because he would be taken advantage of by others, or whether it was simply because he functionally was not good at managing money, it developed into a rather big problem.

the McBride family: the only known picture of all seven siblings, taken in 1976 at Paul’s nephew’s wedding. L to R: Ray, Jean, Marjorie, Jack, Bill, Bob, Paul.

By this point Ray and his brother Jack, and his brother in law Bill were retired. Toni sprang into action again and insisted to Ray that he and his brothers simply must take a larger role in managing Paul’s finances. Knowing that Ray was not good with money, she suggested that Bill, an engineer, take on the role. My father thought it was a good idea, and to the end of his life Paul’s finances were managed by Bill, his power of attorney.

Toni also suggested that Ray and his brothers did not have much to do so… why not visit your brother and see how he is doing? Ray thought this was a good idea. He loved his brother Jack, and his brother in law Bill, and loved the idea of a road trip to Fond du Lac.

For the rest of their lives, while these elderly men could do so, the three of them would regularly go visit their younger brother in Fond du Lac. Bill and Jack lived in Chicago and would pick up Ray along the way. All three of them were WWII veterans and cherished spending time together, sharing some drinks, and a lunch with Paul, and then the drive home. By all reports, the visits were therapeutic for everyone. Paul really appreciated the brotherly love. The rest of us, his nieces and nephews found this outpouring of brotherly love quite touching.

Over the years, Paul McBride’s siblings, and especially his brothers who visited him regularly, passed away: Jack McBride died in 1987; Paul’s brother Ray died in 1989, and William Schnell, Paul’s brother-in-law, in 2004. In the years after that a few of Paul’s nephews would visit him, taking on the tradition started by their father.

In 2004 we heard that Paul McBride had died in Fond du Lac, remarkably (perhaps) at the age of 80. He was survived only by his sister Marjorie, a Nun. Paul had no friends in Fond du Lac that we knew of. Given how much our family loved him, we decided to hold a funeral for him in Milwaukee at Gesu Church, on the campus of Marquette University.

Gesu Chruch, the site of Paul’s funeral, steps from where Paul spent months as a homeless person, and on the campus where Toni McBride went to Marquette University.

This author happened to know the Pastor, Father Pete Etzel, at Gesu Church in downtown Milwaukee, situated just a few blocks from the Rescue Mission where Paul had spent some time, and the Milwaukee Journal where Paul’s brother and sister-in-law worked for decades. So I called him and asked if he would deliver a mass for Paul and our family. Father Pete Etzel readily agreed. I told Pete about Paul’s life story and he weaved it into a beautiful, moving eulogy. About 30 people attended the funeral, including Paul’s nieces and nephews, from Ray’s family and the families of his other siblings, and some of his great nieces and nephews.

For the funeral, Paul’s nephew Mark McBride prepared a couple of picture boards showing pictures of Paul’s life, proudly displayed near the front of the basement church. Father Pete delivered a beautiful eulogy, telling Paul’s story as if he knew him.

As I listened to Father Etzel tell the story about how Paul had spent some of his time homeless, he remarked that Paul spent much of his time very close to this church and was eventually found at the Rescue Mission just a few blocks from the Church by his brother. Father Etzel remarked it was quite possible, if not likely, that Paul may have sought refuge in the Church at times when he was hungry or cold, or lonely. This really struck me, how appropriate it was for this Church to be the place where he was being eulogized.

At that moment, I looked behind me and saw a disheveled man who looked like he was down on his luck, in a dirty coat. We locked eyes. He smiled at me. I grew uncomfortable and wondered why he smiled at me. A few more times I turned around, looked at him again, and again he smiled.

When the service ended, I went up to thank my friend Father Etzel for his eulogy, and I was talking to my family. The homeless man approached and stood next to me, waiting patiently, looking intently at the pictures of my Uncle Paul McBride. Finally, when he had a moment. And when others were not speaking to me, he politely broke in.

Looking at Paul’s picture he said: “He was a great man.”

Stunned, I could only answer, “yes he sure was.”

_________

The author is Timothy McBride, nephew of Paul McBride, and the Bernard Becker professor at the School of Public Health, at Washington University in St. Louis.