George Clark wasn’t one of my ancestors (in fact it seems he might not have had time to make descendants), but the newspaper clipping from 13 Feb 1924, paints a picture of poor Ruby Mackentosh grieving her brand new husband in the very living room where she married him, only a week prior! I don’t know much about love, but I know that if you decide to marry someone the last thing you’re prepared for is becoming a widow just a week later.
I think we forget sometimes that in the not-so-distant past, at least in most of the USA, funerals were usually held at the home of the deceased and not in funeral parlors. What must it have been like, to live in a world where the body of our loved one stays around so much longer than their soul?
If you’re less concerned with that and more curious about George Clark’s workplace, I found a directory of Greek-owned busiesses in the US and Canada, that was published in 1915. I learned that “Traveler’s Lunch” was a cafe owned by a Greek immigrant, D. Katrisiotis. It was located around the corner from Slater house, at 323 Central Ave. George’s commute was just a few blocks away, a cold walk in February, I’m sure.
I will probably spend some time figuring out what became of Ruby Machintosh, but not today.
