Week 5 - Oops

The theme of the week is Oops. I think many of genealogy friends are writing about mistakes they may have found, or made (and believe me, I’ve certainly had my share of those!) but I’ve chosen to write about the stories of I’ve learned, during these 52 weeks, of the actual people, so in that regard, here is my story about “Oops”.

The definition of the word is “used to show recognition of a mistake or minor accident” and was first recorded in English in the 1930s.  I believe it may have originated after an event that occurred involving my Great-Uncle Bill in the 1920’s…

William David Patton was born in 1888 on the bank of the Mighty Mississippi, in Hannibal, Missouri. For the next few years, the family lived on North Street, less than two blocks from the boyhood home of Samuel Clemens, better known as Mark Twain. His father, David Williamson Patton was a machinist for the railroad, and as little Bill grew up, he, too, took up this profession.  By the time Bill was twelve, the family had relocated to Moberly, Missouri, where his father was put in charge of the machine shop for the St. Louis, Kansas City & Northern Railway Company. At the age of 18, Bill was working as a machinist apprentice. On 30 September 1914, he became a regular employee of the Northern Pacific Railway at Missouri Valley, Iowa. Over the course of the next few years, his job would take him to Moulton, Iowa; Roanoke, Virginia; Gibson, Indiana; Silvis, Illinois; and Glendive, Minnesota.

Less than two months after the United States officially entered World War I, Uncle Bill enlisted in the US Army.  He was trained at Camp Dodge, Iowa, and became a member of the 349^th Infantry Regiment which was constituted on 5 August 1917.  A year later, Bill set sail from New York City on the ship RMS Olympic, to serve as a Private in defense of his country.  The 349^th saw combat in Alsace just prior to the end of the war. The entire 88^th Division suffered only 78 casualties. On 18 May 1919, the 349^th Infantry headed for home from St. Nazaire, France. Ten days later, they disembarked at Brooklyn, New York.

During World War I, the American railroad system would become nationalized by executive order of President Woodrow Wilson and turned over to the United States Railroad Administration. Many railway shops, including machinists, boilermakers, etc., had unionized. However, the demands for production, which had been at an all-time high during the war, had now decreased.  After returning stateside, Uncle Bill headed back to Moberly and continued as a machinist at the Wabash shops, alongside his father.  However, the reintegration of the millions of soldiers back into the job market caused the Railroad Labor Board to reduce wage rates for workers across the industry.  This would spawn the Great Railroad Strike of 1922. Among those affected were my great-grandfather, David Patton and great-uncle, Bill. Conflict and violence would ensue over the course of several months in many cities. At various points, the entire railroad system was shut down. From 1 July 1922, through August, union railway workers were off the job, and “scabs” were hired to fill their place. On the first of September, Judge James Herbert Wilkerson issued an injunction against striking, picketing and other union activities. While the injunction broke the strike, it did not end there for David and William Patton. David Patton would never forgive the events that caused the strike and never returned to the profession he had since he was sixteen years old in Wheeling, West Virginia. Because of his staunch convictions, his son also never returned to the railroad shop.

Uncle Bill was still an experienced machinist and so he headed to Chicago where he found a job at the South Works, a steel mill owned by US Steel, at the mouth of the Calumet River. This was the beginning of his career with US Steel, which would last more than 25 years. Uncle Bill settled into his new home on the south side of Chicago. The year was 1924.

Uncle Bill had always cared about his outward appearance, but he was a frugal fellow and lived on a tight budget. He didn’t own tailored clothes, but being a confirmed bachelor, he had no one to spend his money on. After living in Chicago for a while, and pinching his pennies, he felt he deserved his first tailored suit. He proceeded to take his 5’ 10”, 135-pound self, off to see a south Chicago tailor. The store he visited was Marshall Field.

While being fitted for his new suit, the other shoppers began to put down their would-be purchases and head for the exit. The tailor working with Bill acted nervous, but continued with his measuring.  An extremely well dressed, large round man, came up to the two of them. Uncle Bill never knew a stranger, so he struck up a conversation with this man.  They seemed to hit it off and continued their visit for quite some time. At the end of their talk, the man told the tailor to charge anything Uncle Bill wanted to his account. Uncle Bill began to argue with the gentleman, but was nudged by the tailor to keep quiet and simply say “thank you,” which is exactly what he did.

Uncle Bill had already placed an order for a new suitcase with his initials to be engraved on the handle, and along with his new suit, his purchase was rather substantial. The gentleman was helped by another salesperson and was out the door before the tailor finished with Bill. Once this gentleman had left the store, Uncle Bill said you could hear a big sigh from all those that had remained.  Still not giving much thought of the customers who left the building, and thinking it was just his lucky day, the tailor asked him if he knew who his benefactor was. Replying that he had no idea, the tailor replied, “That, my friend, was Al Capone.”

I imagine Uncle Bill coined the phrase, “Oops,” at this exact time…

Did this story happen as Uncle Bill related it? I’m pretty sure it did. My grandmother told me that she remembered it from the story Bill told her shortly after it occurred, and had seen for herself, the sales slip charged to Mr. Capone, which Uncle Bill kept until it finally disintegrated with age. In researching this story years later, I found a transcription from Al Capone’s tax evasion trial where he stated he often purchased his tailored shirts and suits from Marshall Field. Lastly, sitting on top of Uncle Bill’s World War I footlocker, which I use as an end table in my living room, is a tan, suitcase with the initials W.D.P. engraved on the handle. 

Photo circa 1896 - David Williamson Patton, his son, William David Patton, and daughter, Henrietta Anthony Patton (my grandmother).