Kathleen Virginia Doyle was born in 1924 in the City of Chicago. The younger of two children, Kathleen was born to an Irish family of considerable pedigree. Her great grandfather, Peter Doyle, emigrated from County Wexford, Ireland in 1848. Peter Doyle’s youngest son, Austin Doyle, was born in Chicago in 1849 and served as Police Chief for the City of Chicago 1882-1890. Austin Doyle died in 1924 and at the time was one of the oldest native Chicagoans. Other Doyles were variously successful as business men, artists, priests, teachers, and educational administrators. The Doyles lived in a number of locations in the city and their survival skills focused on Irish connections and formal educations.
Kathleen’s first year could be characterized as a city kid. Her family lived at 7310 South Princeton on the city’s south side. But things changed forever when Babe’s father, Robert Emmett Doyle (one of four sons born to Austin Doyle and Pauline Weishaar) died of a perforated ulcer in 1925.
Robert Emmett Doyle (Babe’s
father) in photo circa 1925
This forced her mother to work a teaching job at Hamline School in the City of Chicago and relinquish Kathleen’s care to her maternal grandmother, Julia O’Connell, in the country farmhouse. It was Julia who first called her Babe and the name stuck through the years. Babe and Julia became very close and Julia’s personality largely formed Babe’s. Babe developed a calm nature and learned to deal with problems as they presented themselves. Moreover Babe learned to trust that she would survive despite the chaos of any moment. This was the strength she would call on later in life to raise her own children.
Nana, Babe’s mother, in photo circa mid-1930’s.
Julia and Patrick O’Connell; photo circa 1880
The death of her father resulted in the separation of Babe from her older sister, Mary. When they did get together on weekends, it became apparent that Babe’s farm life and Mary’s city life were fundamentally different. Babe wanted to run and play while her sister wanted to sit and read. It was a classic case of country mouse and city mouse.
Babe sported blonde to light brown wavy hair and a fair skinned complexion, a combination that typified the Irish. She burned easily in the sun and her face flushed red when overheated. As an adult she would attain a height of 5 foot 7 inches and walked with a bit of a forward stoop. Babe was everyone’s friend and had a powerful presence.
December 27, 1927 was a landmark event in Babe’s life. She was only 3.5 years old at the time and the weather outside was very cold. The adults were outside slaughtering and dressing turkeys to be given as Christmas gifts and Babe was left alone. And in a moment of mischief, she accidentally ignited a broom in the oven. She then tried to extinguish it by beating it against a pile of papers left to start the oven. And when that didn’t work, she beat the broom against the curtains, greatly accelerating the conflagration. Babe knew she was in trouble so she gathered some bread, butter, and sugar and hid in the pantry, eating it in consolation.
Julia found Babe in the pantry and asked her to follow her quickly upstairs to retrieve the family money she hid under a loose floorboard. Julia found the money and her purse but dropped her purse on the way down the stairs. Julia fumbled in the smoke looking for it and out of the haze a neighbor, Ed Lucas, found Julia, Babe, and the purse and escorted/carried them safely outside.
The farmhouse erupted in flames but was spared a total loss due to quick work by the men and the fortune that heavy rains had recently filled a nearby gravel pit. Considering the grip the fire had on the house and the car garage, it is a wonder it was saved. Scorched boards can be seen today in the attic. But surprisingly, no adult criticized Babe’s behavior that day. It was considered an accident and that was the end of the matter. That is a tribute to the patience of the O’Connell family, especially to Julia. Babe admits suffering from nightmares about the fire and her role in it into her 60’s. And when Babe inherited the damaged building later in her life she said on more than one occasion it would have been better had the farmhouse just burned to the ground.
Photo of the farmhouse and car garage circa 1928 that clearly exhibits the roof area repaired after the 1927 fire.
Babe was schooled in the old Victorian way. She attended the prestigious Academy of Our Lady (later called Longwood Academy) on Chicago’s south side and learned the fine arts of piano, violin, chorale, charm, tap dancing, and manners, as well as the basic core curriculum of English, mathematics, history, and geography. She was a lady of refinement when she finished at the Academy. But her life had a distinct duality. While she was refined in her schooling and manners, she was still a farm child at heart and remembers how Guinea hens would chase her around the yard and how mink would gain access to the chicken coop and kill the lot.
Babe took up golf as a youngster and exhibited some talent. She was selected from a competition at age 9 and awarded pass to a clinic teaching her the game. It gave her the opportunity to play with her mother, who picked up the game at the request of doctors suggesting it would be good for breaking up her abdominal adhesions.
Babe met her husband to-be, Bob, in 1939 when Bob came to the farmhouse to date her sister, Mary. Babe and Bob, however, discovered they were the better pair. They were married in 1943 when Babe was 18 and Bob was 23. Babe’s mother, Nana, was not thrilled that Babe was marrying before she had learned a profession. But they married nonetheless. There is an amusing report that when Bob asked Nana for the hand of her daughter, Nana was sufficiently confused (knowing he had dated both girls) and asked “Which one?”
Babe and Bob home from the hospital with their first child, November 1943.
German men and Irish women were common marriages in the Palos area. They complemented each other well. German men liked to work and Irish women liked to raise children, and together they had a herd before they knew it.
When Bob returned from the European theatre of WW2, Babe’s mother signed over what remained of the farm (3.6 acres) to Bob and Babe while Babe’s sister, Mamie, moved to Joliet, Illinois to raise her family and continue her teaching career.
Babe was purebred Irish and ultimately had thirteen children with Bob. Her children exhibited the mix of Celtic and Viking bloodlines as some were dark haired while others were strawberry blondes and redheads. And all save three had light complexions and many of these had a crop of freckles.
Babe contributed a number of genetic trademarks to her offspring, including male pattern baldness, light eyebrows, double-jointed thumbs, flexible fingers, and skin so fair it was prone to sunburns and keratoses.
Thirteen children, anyone would agree, was a heavy load and it affected Babe’s most basic decisions, like naming her children. Babe had one daughter who believed her formal name was Kathleen Mary and found out late in life her registered name was Mary Claire. Babe also had a son who believed his name was Lawrence Thomas, but Babe had actually named him Craig Michael. Likewise, she had a son who thought his formal name was William Claire but discovered it was Claire William upon filing for a marriage license. Babe was overwhelmed with demands made on her in an operation of this scale and apparently
