Irene O'Rourke Russell
Birth: 13 Jan 1928, San Francisco, California
Spouse: Marilyn Alice Marcus
Birth: 3 May 1930, San Francisco, California
Marriage: 28 Jun 1953, San Francisco, California
Divorce: Aug 1966, San Francisco, California
Death: 12 May 2009 in San Francisco, California
Children: Mark Charles (1956-)
Linda Jennie (1957-)
Spouse: Josette Bertha Dumenil Hoffman
Birth: 17 Apr 1935, Colorado
Marriage: 8 Jul 1968, Carson City, NV
Divorce: 25 Feb 1981, San Mateo, California
Death: 3 Oct 1988 in Novato, Marin, California
Spouse: Shelby Warren Miller
Birth: 28 Sep 1935, San Francisco
Marriage: 25 Jan 1984, Clark, Nevada
Irene Katharine O’Rourke was born on June 11, 1894, when the family was still living on 1st Street in St. Patrick’s Parish. She grew up in the South of Market area of the City. According to the 1940 US Census, she had a 6th grade education, which means her formal education ended with the 1906 Earthquake and the family’s move to Potrero Hill. While living on Texas Street, Irene became acquainted with a neighbor named David Fenlon who lived at 1124 Mariposa Street.
David Joseph Fenlon had been born on May 18, 1889, in Newport, Rhode Island. (His grave stone erroneously says he was born in 1891.) He was the son of John Fenlon and Jane Deaulsi. John may have been a blacksmith. David had two older siblings—a brother named John and a sister Celine who became a nun in East Providence and taught at St. Mary’s Seminary. In Rhode Island, David had been a press feeder for a newspaper, the Daily News. By 1910, he had moved to San Francisco and was working as a laborer. In 1911, he gained employment at the SP as a locomotive fireman. This was a job putting out fires. David stoked the fire for the engine of trains on the Pacific Coast division of the Southern Pacific Railroad. Over the next seven years, he might work anywhere from San Francisco to Santa Cruz as an engineman, for which he earned the princely sum of $54 per month. According to his World War I draft registration card, he was of medium height and medium build, with brown hair and blue eyes. He was deferred from service as the sole support of his wife and child.
On January 13, 1913, David and Irene married at St. Theresa of Avila Church. According to the SF Chronicle,
At a pretty wedding at St. Theresa’s church Miss Irene O’Rourke and David J Fenlon plighted their troth last Tuesday. Only relatives and a few intimate friends of the popular couple were present at the services, the bride and groom leaving immediately after the ceremony for their honeymoon. Miss O’Rourke was owned in a brown cloth tailor suit, with which she wore a black picture hat lined with French blue. Miss Mary Jackson, who attended as maid of honor, wore a brown suit and a picture hat with old rose plumes. John Kelly was best man. Upon their return from their wedding trip Mr. Fenlon and his bride will make their home at 612 Nineteenth Street.
Their home was at 3rd Street in Dogpatch, eight blocks away from Irene’s parents. A year later, they were living at 269 Connecticut Street, just two block from Martin and Delia. It was there that their only child, Mervyn Charles, was born. By 1918, they were living with Delia and Martin on Texas Street. Their address was 216 ½ Texas, so they either lived in a garage house in back or in an in-law apartment. Since the house no longer exists, it is impossible to know which.
Spouse: Marilyn Alice Marcus
Birth: 3 May 1930, San Francisco, California
Marriage: 28 Jun 1953, San Francisco, California
Divorce: Aug 1966, San Francisco, California
Death: 12 May 2009 in San Francisco, California
Children: Mark Charles (1956-)
Linda Jennie (1957-)
Spouse: Josette Bertha Dumenil Hoffman
Birth: 17 Apr 1935, Colorado
Marriage: 8 Jul 1968, Carson City, NV
Divorce: 25 Feb 1981, San Mateo, California
Death: 3 Oct 1988 in Novato, Marin, California
Spouse: Shelby Warren Miller
Birth: 28 Sep 1935, San Francisco
Marriage: 25 Jan 1984, Clark, Nevada
Irene Katharine O’Rourke was born on June 11, 1894, when the family was still living on 1st Street in St. Patrick’s Parish. She grew up in the South of Market area of the City. According to the 1940 US Census, she had a 6th grade education, which means her formal education ended with the 1906 Earthquake and the family’s move to Potrero Hill. While living on Texas Street, Irene became acquainted with a neighbor named David Fenlon who lived at 1124 Mariposa Street.
David Joseph Fenlon had been born on May 18, 1889, in Newport, Rhode Island. (His grave stone erroneously says he was born in 1891.) He was the son of John Fenlon and Jane Deaulsi. John may have been a blacksmith. David had two older siblings—a brother named John and a sister Celine who became a nun in East Providence and taught at St. Mary’s Seminary. In Rhode Island, David had been a press feeder for a newspaper, the Daily News. By 1910, he had moved to San Francisco and was working as a laborer. In 1911, he gained employment at the SP as a locomotive fireman. This was a job putting out fires. David stoked the fire for the engine of trains on the Pacific Coast division of the Southern Pacific Railroad. Over the next seven years, he might work anywhere from San Francisco to Santa Cruz as an engineman, for which he earned the princely sum of $54 per month. According to his World War I draft registration card, he was of medium height and medium build, with brown hair and blue eyes. He was deferred from service as the sole support of his wife and child.
On January 13, 1913, David and Irene married at St. Theresa of Avila Church. According to the SF Chronicle,
At a pretty wedding at St. Theresa’s church Miss Irene O’Rourke and David J Fenlon plighted their troth last Tuesday. Only relatives and a few intimate friends of the popular couple were present at the services, the bride and groom leaving immediately after the ceremony for their honeymoon. Miss O’Rourke was owned in a brown cloth tailor suit, with which she wore a black picture hat lined with French blue. Miss Mary Jackson, who attended as maid of honor, wore a brown suit and a picture hat with old rose plumes. John Kelly was best man. Upon their return from their wedding trip Mr. Fenlon and his bride will make their home at 612 Nineteenth Street.
Their home was at 3rd Street in Dogpatch, eight blocks away from Irene’s parents. A year later, they were living at 269 Connecticut Street, just two block from Martin and Delia. It was there that their only child, Mervyn Charles, was born. By 1918, they were living with Delia and Martin on Texas Street. Their address was 216 ½ Texas, so they either lived in a garage house in back or in an in-law apartment. Since the house no longer exists, it is impossible to know which.
On December 23, 1918, David was admitted to SF General Hospital with the flu. It developed into pneumonia and he died three days later on December 26th. He was only 29 years. After a Friday night viewing and rosary at McBrearty and McCormick Funeral Home on Valencia, there was a requiem mass at St Theresa’s Church, followed by burial in Section L of Holy Cross Cemetery.
Irene took a job in 1919 as a stenographer and bookkeeper. A year later, on January 24, 1920, she married another Potrero Hill neighbor named Bert Millisich. Bert had been born on September 24, 1894, in Sutter Creek, California, to Serbian immigrants Stanko Millisich and Lublea (Violet) Vidakonich. Bert was a teamster for Morton Spa, a transport company. According to his WWI draft card, Bert was of medium height, slim, with blues eyes and brown hair. He lived on Turk Street. The marriage did not last very long. By 1921, Bert was gone and had appeared in the newspaper as being arrested for burglarizing a tailor shop with three other men. In 1923, he remarried, had a son, and lived in San Francisco until his death in 1971.
Irene and Mervyn moved back home to Texas Street and she took a job as a bookbinder. Later, she would become a lithographer and a member of the Bookbinders Union Local 3. She worked for many years at McGraw-Hill Publishers on Post Street. Later, she would work for the Chronicle.
Irene took a job in 1919 as a stenographer and bookkeeper. A year later, on January 24, 1920, she married another Potrero Hill neighbor named Bert Millisich. Bert had been born on September 24, 1894, in Sutter Creek, California, to Serbian immigrants Stanko Millisich and Lublea (Violet) Vidakonich. Bert was a teamster for Morton Spa, a transport company. According to his WWI draft card, Bert was of medium height, slim, with blues eyes and brown hair. He lived on Turk Street. The marriage did not last very long. By 1921, Bert was gone and had appeared in the newspaper as being arrested for burglarizing a tailor shop with three other men. In 1923, he remarried, had a son, and lived in San Francisco until his death in 1971.
Irene and Mervyn moved back home to Texas Street and she took a job as a bookbinder. Later, she would become a lithographer and a member of the Bookbinders Union Local 3. She worked for many years at McGraw-Hill Publishers on Post Street. Later, she would work for the Chronicle.
In 1921, Irene’s life took a more positive turn when she met and married Charles Lewis Russell. He had been born to John Russell of Michigan and Catherine Doyle of San Francisco on April 22, 1891. He lived with his parents and sister at 3802 - 23rd Street, near Irene’s Coogan cousins, in St. Philip’s Parish. According to family lore, he had always wanted to become a policeman, but thought he was too short, so his brothers would take him down to the basement to try to stretch him. He did become a police officer in June of 1913 and was assigned to Richmond Station. Two weeks later, he was on patrol and heard shots fired up the block. He ran up 4th Street to see a riot in progress. He confronted the man who had fired and hit a one of the people attacking him. The man pointed his revolver at Charlie and pulled the trigger. The hammer jammed and Charlie tackled him. Five months later, Charlie was the one with gun as he boarded a streetcar after being thrown out of the Claremont Hotel Bar for being too drunk. He and another off-duty officer got into an altercation with the conductor and the motorman over the transfer. He “is alleged to have drawn his revolver, flourished it, and to have threatened to shoot the car crew.” The Commission voted to dismiss him from the force, but Police Commissioner Roche voted “no” for the dismissal and preferred a $100 fine. The 1914 Langley’s Directory shows Charlie’s occupation as clerk, so he must have been dismissed.
According to his 1918 WWI draft card, Charles was a shipping clerk and auto mechanic at the Hoover Spring Company, an auto supply company. He was of medium height and medium build, with auburn hair and hazel eyes. He served in the First World War as a Private 1st Class in the 162 Infantry, 41st Division from November 1917 until May 1919. The division was deployed to France, but they were designated as a replacement division and did not see any action. According to his 1942 WWII draft registration, he was 5’11” and 180 lbs., a redhead with hazel eyes and a ruddy complexion. He also had glasses by that time.
According to his 1918 WWI draft card, Charles was a shipping clerk and auto mechanic at the Hoover Spring Company, an auto supply company. He was of medium height and medium build, with auburn hair and hazel eyes. He served in the First World War as a Private 1st Class in the 162 Infantry, 41st Division from November 1917 until May 1919. The division was deployed to France, but they were designated as a replacement division and did not see any action. According to his 1942 WWII draft registration, he was 5’11” and 180 lbs., a redhead with hazel eyes and a ruddy complexion. He also had glasses by that time.
Irene and Charles married on October 29, 1921, in Marin County and would remain married until his death 32 years later. The next year, Charles got back onto the police force and the couple bought the two-bedroom, one-bath house at 8 College Terrace in St. John’s Parish. The neighborhood was known as College Hill because the area was the site of old St. Mary’s College from 1862 to 1889, before it moved to Oakland and then Moraga for affordable space. College Terrace had supposedly been laid out for future development of faculty housing. By 1930, they owned the house and it was valued at $5000. By 2015, the estimated value was $1.6 million and would fetch a monthly rental income of $4580, almost as much as it was worth when the Russells bought it. Maude’s granddaughters Judy and JoAnn McKinney often visited Irene, and Judy remembered the house well. It was white at the time. The living room was small, with one chair and a loveseat and with cabinets built into the walls. The dining room had a player piano and a built-in china cabinet. The kitchen had a breakfast nook and stairs down to the yard. Upstairs were two bedrooms and a long hallway that ended in a door that led out onto a balcony. (The hall always scared Judy.) The house was always was clean and neat, and it was decorated with antiques. Irene collected dolls and was very fond of Waterford Crystal.
After her parents moved to Agua Caliente, Irene’s house seems to have become the touchstone for the family, and she often took relatives in to stay for a while. In 1925, her brother Joe lived there. Delia was living with there in 1942 when she passed away. In the 1950s, Maude and Walter Daley moved in for a time.
After her parents moved to Agua Caliente, Irene’s house seems to have become the touchstone for the family, and she often took relatives in to stay for a while. In 1925, her brother Joe lived there. Delia was living with there in 1942 when she passed away. In the 1950s, Maude and Walter Daley moved in for a time.
In 1930, Irene’s son entered high school, attending St. Ignatius with his cousins, the Flynn brothers. He was a year older than his classmates—he had been held back because of the various instabilities early in his life. Being bigger, football seemed to be a natural fit for him. But during a scrimmage on September 10, 1931, Mervin broke a bone in his neck and was paralyzed. He would never walk again and would spend the next seven and a half years in bed. Since he would have had little or no control of his bowels or bladder, Irene would have been responsible for cleaning him several times a day, moving him around to relieve bed sores, and helping him eat. Ultimately, the family had to put him in the Laguna Honda Home where he could receive fulltime care. It is unknown when he entered Laguna Honda and how long his mother had to care for him. Mervyn would finally die on May 4, 1939. Though no doubt Irene was saddened by his passing, it must have been a relief for everyone, including Mervyn, for the suffering to be at an end. Later in life, Irene did not talk about her son and some members of the later generations did not even know she had had a child, let alone what happened to him.
Tracking Charlie’s career in the police department is a little difficult because there was a Charles T. Russell on the force at the same time. He was also in the paper fairly often for being drunk on duty and before the commission for conduct unbecoming. In 1916, CT was in the papers for being drunk on duty, his 8th such charge in his 13 years on the Force. He received the $100 fine that Charlie was denied. By 1923, Charlie was back on the Force and was part of a Prohibition bust. He arrested two men in an abandoned house near 37th Avenue and Taravel where they were operating two stills. 750 gallons of mash and 60 gallons of brandy were seized. The article referred to Charlie as Charles “Red” Russell. In the late 1920s, Charlie was at Southern Station, in the Bay View District. In the 1930s, he was at Taravel Station, in the Sunset. In 1931, one of the Charles Russells was charged with police brutality. The victim later dropped the charges. In 1933, he was before the Police Commission for being drunk on duty again. By 1937, our Charles was no longer listed in Polk’s City Directory as a policeman. The other Charles continued on the force until 1939. In the early 40s, Charlie took a job as a security guard for the Post Office. He held that job until his death.
Maude’s grandchildren remembered Charlie in the 1950s. Marty McKinney said Charlie had a shop in the basement on College Terrace where he made things for them. He remembered a table and chair Charlie made for his teddy bear. Charlie also made a lamp out of an old artillery shell. Judy remembered that they were not allowed in the basement because Charlie had pictures of pin-up girls and nude women on the walls. Judy also remembered Charlie taking her and her sister with a wagon to different shops and bars in the neighborhood to pick up Christmas gifts. Later, Judy was the one who would be sent to the bar to get Charlie to come home for dinner. She was the only one he would respond to.
Charlie and Irene were a happy couple. They enjoyed a drink and a song. Sunday drives were a common but special time. They also had little blue parakeet that they never caged but let fly around the kitchen. Irene and the bird would talk to each other all day long. When Charlie would come in, the bird with shout, “Charlie drunk! Charlie drunk!” The McKinney kids thought it was hilarious.
Tracking Charlie’s career in the police department is a little difficult because there was a Charles T. Russell on the force at the same time. He was also in the paper fairly often for being drunk on duty and before the commission for conduct unbecoming. In 1916, CT was in the papers for being drunk on duty, his 8th such charge in his 13 years on the Force. He received the $100 fine that Charlie was denied. By 1923, Charlie was back on the Force and was part of a Prohibition bust. He arrested two men in an abandoned house near 37th Avenue and Taravel where they were operating two stills. 750 gallons of mash and 60 gallons of brandy were seized. The article referred to Charlie as Charles “Red” Russell. In the late 1920s, Charlie was at Southern Station, in the Bay View District. In the 1930s, he was at Taravel Station, in the Sunset. In 1931, one of the Charles Russells was charged with police brutality. The victim later dropped the charges. In 1933, he was before the Police Commission for being drunk on duty again. By 1937, our Charles was no longer listed in Polk’s City Directory as a policeman. The other Charles continued on the force until 1939. In the early 40s, Charlie took a job as a security guard for the Post Office. He held that job until his death.
Maude’s grandchildren remembered Charlie in the 1950s. Marty McKinney said Charlie had a shop in the basement on College Terrace where he made things for them. He remembered a table and chair Charlie made for his teddy bear. Charlie also made a lamp out of an old artillery shell. Judy remembered that they were not allowed in the basement because Charlie had pictures of pin-up girls and nude women on the walls. Judy also remembered Charlie taking her and her sister with a wagon to different shops and bars in the neighborhood to pick up Christmas gifts. Later, Judy was the one who would be sent to the bar to get Charlie to come home for dinner. She was the only one he would respond to.
Charlie and Irene were a happy couple. They enjoyed a drink and a song. Sunday drives were a common but special time. They also had little blue parakeet that they never caged but let fly around the kitchen. Irene and the bird would talk to each other all day long. When Charlie would come in, the bird with shout, “Charlie drunk! Charlie drunk!” The McKinney kids thought it was hilarious.
On the evening of Sunday, February 6, 1955, Charles was on his way home. Crossing Mission Street at 29th, he was struck by an automobile and killed. He was pronounced dead on arrival at Mission Emergency Hospital. He was 63 years old. The driver of the car was William A Wilson, a 31-year-old meat cutter from the neighborhood. He was arrested on suspicion of felony driving drunk, though he insisted he only had had a couple of beers and he volunteered to take a blood test. He was released the next day when his test showed he was within the legal limit. Charges were never filed, probably because the autopsy revealed that Charlie’s blood alcohol was a whopping .231% at the time and he probably stepped off the curb without looking. It is unknown from where he was coming, but the accident happened just a couple of blocks from Maude and Walter Daley’s house on Dolores..
After a rosary and viewing at Duggan’s Mortuary on Valencia, Charles had a requiem mass at St. John’s Church and was buried in Section O of the Golden Gate National Cemetery in San Bruno, as was his right by virtue of serving in Word War I. His obituary showed that he was a member of the SFPD Widows and Orphans Aid Association, the General Services Administration-Public Building Service (GSAPBS), and the Guard Force Federal Office Group.
After Charlie died, Irene’s sister Maude and her husband moved into 8 College Terrace to support her in her grief and to help her come to terms with yet another loss in her life. They would live there for the next three years.
In 1958, Irene went back to work for McGraw-Hill and was employed as a lithographer. Lithography is printing process in which the image to be printed is rendered on a flat surface, as on sheet zinc or aluminum, and treated to retain ink while the non-image areas are treated to repel ink. In 1962, she went to work for the San Francisco Chronicle. That was how Maude’s grandchildren got to meet William Randolph Hearst II. She stayed there until her retirement in 1967.
Irene’s grand-nephew Brian remembered that Irene was always sweet and he got away with murder when he visited. He was most impressed when they traveled around town by bus. Irene never drove “the Machine,” but they would get up early to catch the bus down at the corner. They would spend the whole day traveling around town, using transfers to get free rides everywhere.
After a rosary and viewing at Duggan’s Mortuary on Valencia, Charles had a requiem mass at St. John’s Church and was buried in Section O of the Golden Gate National Cemetery in San Bruno, as was his right by virtue of serving in Word War I. His obituary showed that he was a member of the SFPD Widows and Orphans Aid Association, the General Services Administration-Public Building Service (GSAPBS), and the Guard Force Federal Office Group.
After Charlie died, Irene’s sister Maude and her husband moved into 8 College Terrace to support her in her grief and to help her come to terms with yet another loss in her life. They would live there for the next three years.
In 1958, Irene went back to work for McGraw-Hill and was employed as a lithographer. Lithography is printing process in which the image to be printed is rendered on a flat surface, as on sheet zinc or aluminum, and treated to retain ink while the non-image areas are treated to repel ink. In 1962, she went to work for the San Francisco Chronicle. That was how Maude’s grandchildren got to meet William Randolph Hearst II. She stayed there until her retirement in 1967.
Irene’s grand-nephew Brian remembered that Irene was always sweet and he got away with murder when he visited. He was most impressed when they traveled around town by bus. Irene never drove “the Machine,” but they would get up early to catch the bus down at the corner. They would spend the whole day traveling around town, using transfers to get free rides everywhere.
As the 1970s progressed, Irene’s health began to fail. She and her sister Maude had always been very close and saw each other often. Maude began to come over every day to help take care of her. In 1975, Irene was diagnosed with colon cancer. She was admitted to St. Luke’s Hospital on December 28, 1976. Irene died on January 2, 1977, of acute cerebral hypoxia and multiple pulmonary emboli. She was 82 years old. A wake and rosary was held at Reilly Co, followed by a mass of Christian burial at St. John’s Church and burial with Charlie in Golden Gate National Cemetery.
When Irene passed, no one could find a will, so Joe Costa stepped in to settle the estate. Though Irene has expressed the intention to have Maude get the house, Maude did not want to live there. She liked where she was and the house had too many stairs. Various family members came to take what they wanted, and Joe sold the house.
When Irene passed, no one could find a will, so Joe Costa stepped in to settle the estate. Though Irene has expressed the intention to have Maude get the house, Maude did not want to live there. She liked where she was and the house had too many stairs. Various family members came to take what they wanted, and Joe sold the house.
According to her McKinney relatives, Irene had a great sense of humor and always loved to keep people laughing. Her O’Rourke cousins echoed the sentiment, adding that she was sociable and kind and that she always stayed in contact with her siblings and their children, expressing concern for their wellbeing. She handled the tragedies of her life by concentrating on others.