Martin Francis Ronan, Jr.

Also lovingly known as "The Bum"

Pvt. Martin Francis Ronan, Jr.
Troop M
Eighth Regiment of Calvary
United States Army
Fort Bliss, Texas
June 22, 1920

Marty was born in Chester, PA on 2 February, 1900, Ground's Hog Day, at around 11:55 pm. But by the time the doctor finished cleaning up and recorded the birth it was 3 February so that was his recorded birth date. But his Aunt Annie always called him "Little Groundhog".

Martin was raised Irish Catholic and was very proud of being Irish. His father, Martin Ronan, and his mother, Mary McGlone were originally from the Columbia, PA area. His grandfather, Michael Ronan came to America from County Limerick, Ireland. 

Marty was one of six children: Mary, Rose, Catherine, Agnes, Martin and Richard. Rose died in childhood. When Marty was 24, he eloped with  Francis Markiewicz in Elkton, MD. They had two children, Martin Francis Ronan, III, who was called "Little Marty" and Frances Marie Ronan, who was called "Tootsie".

When Marty was 21 he went to work for the South Chester Tube Company. His father, Martin Francis Ronan, Sr.,  also worked there from 1899 until 1939 when he retired. Martin worked there for forty-four years, retiring in 1965.

In 1950, Martin and Frances moved their family of three to Aston, PA to a small cape cod on Dutton's Mill Road. This area was known to our relatives as being "out in the sticks". At this time, Martin's children were married and not living at home, however, Carol, their four year old granddaughter (that's me!) whom they had raised since birth, lived with them.

While in Aston, Martin enjoyed gardening. He moved four peony bushes from the house in Chester to Aston and planted them in his side yard. (They are now transplanted in Delaware at my house and still thriving.) He was the type of person who could do anything. He remodeled the unfinished attic into two bedrooms. He was a hard worker and liked to putter on his days off.

Marty was a very humorous guy. He like to tease his grandchildren and play games with them. My early experience with his sense of humor occurred when I was in the first grade.  He told me that he was George Washington's horse's water boy.  Of course, I went to school and told Sister Joseph Francis this.  She got quite a laugh.  When we visited him later with our children, he would open the back door when we knocked and say, "Go away!  We don't want any." and slam the door, all the while with a big smile on his face. The children would giggle and pound on the door shouting, "Poppop, let us in." They would finally be let in and taken to the cookie drawer.

He gave all of his grandchildren nicknames. One of the nicknames he gave to his great-grandson, Marty was "Little Bum". Little Marty, who was about three,  was not too pleased with this and thought that Poppop didn't like him. In self defense, I told him to call Poppop a Bum back. Marty did and it soon became a giggle match. And guess what?  The name stuck. Poppop became "The Bum". So his nickname back-fired on him, but he took it well. Soon the family was calling them both Poppop and Mommom Bum. Or the kids would say, "Let's go to The Bums."

Poppop always had a funny line for everyone. Our son Marty grew into a tall young man. The size of his feet grew along with him. When Poppop saw his new sneakers he said, "Did you get oars with those?"

He always made us laugh. When he was older, in his nineties, our son Jordan would go to cut his lawn for him. He would follow Jordi around the yard telling him to "hit the tree" with the mower, so he wouldn't have to trim. Then he would try to pay him for cutting the grass, but Jort wouldn't take the money. We laughed for years about "hit the tree, go ahead hit it".

He did so many things that made us laugh. He was the life of any party.

The Bum in His Party Mood

When he was older he would tell me stories of his time in the Army. He was on border patrol in Mexico in 1920 with the 8th Calvary. I heard stories of riding naked across the Rio Grande on horseback to get moonshine from the Mexicans. They would go naked because they didn't have any pockets so they wouldn't be able to pay for the moonshine.

On Halloween he would often dress up as an old lady to meet us at the door.

Trick or Treat

I am very grateful to Poppop for taking me in and raising me. My life would have been very different if I had not lived with my grandparents. I owe them everything. He never received a penny from my parents for my care. And he never once complained that he had to pay for all my living expenses, food, clothing, piano lessons and Catholic School.

Martin died in 1993, two days before his 93rd birthday. He was buried in Immaculate Heart Cemetery with his wife, Frances on 2 February 1993, Ground Hog's Day. That same day, his great-great-grandson RJ was born. Another "Little Groundhog."

We love you, Bum

Copyright © Carol Kane - March 2002