| Forge Village is actually one of the five villages of
Westford, Massachusetts in the northeastern part of the state. |
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Plenty of available flowing water was the engine that turned the
wheels and powered the mills. People is what is needed to work the
mills. |
| The mills are what bought the people to Westford and to
Forge Village. They came from a variety of places.
By 1915 40% of the total population was foreign-born. |
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French Canadians formed the largest immigrant group. Many
immigrants also came from Ireland, England, Scotland, Sweden, and Russia,
where mill owners actively recruited workers. |
| I don't know how many Flatleys arrived in Forge Village
from England in 1914 but I know three generations lived there at the time. |
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Uncle Mike and Uncle Dave came over with David and Anna (Popop
and Nanna) and took up residence in an apartment in this house on Bradford
Street, a stone's
throw from the mill. |
| In 1915 James would be born, followed in 1917 by my Dad,
Tom. I assume they would have been born in the house as folks
weren't big on hospitals in those days. |
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Here in Saint Catherine's Cemetery is the grave of Catherine Molloy, Nana's Mother, my
great grandmother.
She was born in Northern Ireland and died in 1919 in Forge Village.
Her husband Michael (my great grandfather) is buried there as well. |
| Uncle William (Wimpy) was born in 1918 in New Jersey. Since Mike
and Dave would have been 7 and 5 at the time, it is possible they attended
Cameron School (currently the Senior's Center). |
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Number 4 Orchard
Street. Michael Molloy lived and died in this house. Some of the
Flatley children (Rosie, Dolly and Wimpy, etc.) spent summer vacations
here in the '30s and '40s (bet Aunt Dolly remembers). |
| Forge Pond also known as Lake Mattawanakee was a favorite
swimming spot for the gang during the summers. |
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I'm told that the world's finest ice cream comes from
Kimball Farm. Aunt Myra, Uncle Joe, Aunt Dolly, Aunt Rosie, is this
true? It was closed when I was there, story of my life. |
| This is Helena "Aunt Mickey McKniff" Crocker in front of
her home. When I was inside the house I heard strange echoes of
Flatley voices singing into the wee hours, shades of other nights at Ma
Kay's. |
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Mickey and me. The camera caught me blinking.
Thanks Helena for the visit, for lunch, for the tour and everything else. |
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