Lou’s View – April 24, 2014

The 122-Year-Old Man

by Lou Bernard

My grandmother didn’t have a birth certificate.

She must have, we assume, at one time. But when she and her family came from the Ukraine to America in the early 1900s, they wanted to start over and be real Americans. On Ellis Island, they burned everything—-Clothes, documents—And started from scratch. They wanted nothing to remind them of the old country. To me, Philadelphia is “the old country.”

I’m not just forcing you to read about my family history here. Not that I’m above that, but I do have a point, which I’ll get to in a little while.

But I was going to talk about Great Island Cemetery, and John Murphy.

Great Island Cemetery used to be up along Bellefonte Avenue, running roughly from along South Highland to Pearl Streets. It was one of the earliest cemeteries established in the area. In 1918, the city decided to move it, and the bodies were dug up and moved to other cemeteries. Some were moved to Highland, Flemington, Cedar Hill, Dunnstown….And some were only listed as “unfound,” and left where they were. To this day, there are probably still skeletons under there.

So if you live in that neighborhood, and didn’t realize you lived on top of corpses….Sorry about the spoiler! Enjoy your morning coffee.

So anyway. In 1906, when the cemetery was still active, the Express received a visit from H. Frank Allen of East Main Street, who came in with a clipping from the Clinton Republican that he said was from 1870. It was an article about a letter they’d received from Bald Eagle Township, apparently unsigned.

“Dear Sir,” it said,”You noticed lately in your paper, the death of Mrs. Annie Allen, consort of David Allen of Bald Eagle Township….It will be news, too, to many, to know that her grandfather, John Murphy, died in this neighborhood at age 122, and was buried in the Great Island Graveyard. He was a native of Ireland….He was among those first that were buried in that burying ground. It would be pleasant, and a comfort to his descendants and their relatives to be assured that no attempts will be made to remove his remains.”

So, the letter claimed that John Murphy was the grandfather of Annie Allen, and a hundred and twenty-two years old. This was back in the day when the average lifespan was about forty, and you’d be praying for death by thirteen.

I tried to look into John Murphy, with no success. There are no records for him in the Ross Library, and nothing available except for this one mention in the papers. And just try checking into Irish records for the name “John Murphy.” Just try.

So, I can’t prove that John Murphy was 122 when he died. All I can prove is that someone wrote that down somewhere.

Annie Allen, however, was a real person. She lived in Bald Eagle Township, was married to David Allen, and died on February 21, 1871. So all her facts check out. It’s reasonable to assume she had a grandfather at some point. I’m pretty sure it’s impossible not to.

So, was he really 122 years old?

My educated guess is that he was not. Back in those days, paperwork wasn’t exactly plentiful, and much of it was signed with an X. My grandmother, for example. Her doctor once made an estimate on her age, based on immunization records, and guessed that she was about ninety-three when she died. But she may have been older or younger; there’s no way to know. She could have claimed to be 122 if she’d wanted.

My guess is that explains John Murphy. It’s most likely that he came here from Ireland without a lot of documentation, and eventually told people he was eighty, or ninety, or whatever. And as time went by, everyone took it on faith, and they all assumed he died at 122, when he’d really been seventy-nine or something.

I do have to say that the writer’s wishes were honored, in a way. No attempt was made to remove John Murphy, or at least none was documented. When the cemetery was moved, his body was not recorded as having been transferred elsewhere. So, congratulations to John Murphy—He probably has a house on top of him, but at least he wasn’t moved.

And, you never know, he may have actually been that old. I doubt it, but if I live to be that old, I’ll realize that I was wrong and issue a written apology. You can look for it in the Record around 2091.