Mary Nagle

Later, still at the bar, he told stories about the chaws of the First Ward from the Beach and did a bit of a soft shoe. Only a few drunks remained to cheer him on. By the time he got home, it was 6 a.m. and the sun was just rising. His loud entry woke up Mary. She backed away as Pat weaved forward. As he slumped onto the couch, she began to question him about the pay he had received at noon the previous day.

“Now, Mary, hald yer nasty mouth, or I’ll slap it. It’s me money and I’ll spend it as I will.”

He closed his eyes and fell into a light slumber. Mary went through his shirt pockets in search of money he had not spent. Pat woke up, pulled his gun, and shot it into the floor at her feet. Her eyes bulged; she screeched and fell back onto the floor. Bobby and the girls jumped out of bed and rushed into the living room in shock, the girls crying and yelling, Bobby and Minnie ready to take on their father when they realized what had happened. Minnie had grown increasingly sarcastic toward her father as she grew into her teens. She grabbed a pan and was ready to attack him with it. Bobby clutched a poker and he too would have hit Pat over the head.