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Keep On Telling The Family Stories


Here's to family stories that are passed from one generation to the next.

Here’s to family stories that are passed from one generation to the next. Here are the children of Mary McMahon Mattimore. These 5 have produced 23 children and countless grandchildren. I lost count. Plus we have great grandchildren now to add to the numbers.


There is something comforting in hearing the same stories over and over. I mean, we all rolled our eyes when we were teens but now I just sit back and relish and smile at hearing them. In our family, there are a few “classics.” It all started with John McMahon. As a young lad, he left Ireland for the United States of America; an unfriendly place for the Irish. No one was hiring the Irish. From Ellis island to working on the Erie canal and onto Buffalo to find work. He lost his best friend to illness along the way and searched for a place to settle. John endured and walked to Ellicottville, NY where the Irish were being hired. He found love and 7 children later (those who lived) -one is my grandmother Mary McMahon Mattimore. Folks, if you think driving to Ellicottville is a big deal try walking it in 1800’s.

Baseball stories abound around the table. Michael Mattimore was a ball player and my dad received a letter to try out for the Boston Red Soxs. Yes, we have the letter framed.  Jane McMahon dated a professional baseball player named  Tris Speaker –until religion got in the way. He was a Mason, she a Catholic. No mixed marriages back them. Cousin Kay Daly married baseball legend Ray Chapman (shortstop for the Cleveland Indians remains the only major league baseball player to die from an injury while playing) and had his baby after he was killed by the Yankee pitch. Unfortunately the baby did not survive. Aunt Kate who lived with the Mattimore family on McCamley Street growing up in South Buffalo was a “softie.” The sister of our grandmother who never married lived with her family and helped with the children. When the kids would walk home for lunch while attending Holy Family School, she would let them stay home and not return to school. Stories of the handsome men in their uniforms, women and their recipes and songs song kept our dinner table warm. I’m just scratching the surface here with our family stories. Share the stories. Someday your kids will ask again “wait, what was that story you use to tell?”


Mattimore Family Singers