"THE SAGA OF AN INDIANA FÄRM AND IT'S AGING AND ONLY OCCUPANT BY SISTER M. SOLACE LITTLE COMPANY OF MARY NURSING ORDER

While vacationing at the Sisters' Cottage in San Pierre, Indiana, in the summer of 1940, I learned of an aged and afflicted man who lived alone on his farm about two miles from our cottage. Being apprised of the man's condition, and thinking to bring a bit of cheer into his evening of life's day, with Sister M.Virginia, one beautiful May morning we walked the distance to the farm of the sick man.

In response to our door knock the old man appeared. Introductions over, Mr. Tierney invited us to sit on the porch.The kindly and mentally alert old man endeavored to supply entertaining conversation on the homeland of his parents when he learned that I, like they, was Irish born. It was obvious that the old gentleman was keenly conscious of a repulsive condition of the entire left side of his face in the form of a malignant cancerous condition. There was no dressing on the face and from the corrupting wound, worms crawled in and out. 

Trying to cheer him, I sang to him the hymn, "God Bless This House", and talked to him of Ireland and of Irish Folklore which seemed to please him very much. We had brought some fine broth with us and I asked Sister Virginia to heat some for him. Stepping into the kitchen, Sister could not immediately locate the stove due to the dimness of the place and the debris that littered the room. Finally locating the stove, Sister heated the broth, using old newspapers for fuel. ةلملانتThe old man enjoyed the broth and voluably expressed his thanks. His condition and the squalor of the home prompted me to ask him to come to our Chicago Hospital where all conveniences and comforts were available for his care. In courteous tone he refused, stating that it was his wish to breathe his last on his San Pierre farm. Hе then asked if my Superiors would permit me to care for him at his home. Looking at him and noting the worms crawling the cancer surface, I replied: "Oh, yes, Mr. Tierney, I will take care of you." Almost immediately I was (to use a seasick person's phraseology) "feeding the fishes". All that day and night I was sick.

Mr. Tierney was not a man of repulsive manner. In his bearded face, I seem to visualize the countenance of St.Joseph.That evening we delivered Mr. Tierney's request for care at his home by phone to Rev. Mother at Chicago. She expressed surprise as some time before she had asked him to come to the hospital for treatment. At the end of the week, Rev. Mother came to our San Pierre cottage and had dinner with us. After dinner, Rev. Mother, Sister Virginia, and I, went to call on Mr. Tierney. First, we called at the rectory of Fr. John Hosinski at San Pierre. Fr. John accompanied us to the Tierney home. The doors being locked, Fr. John went to the rear of the house and called to Mr. Tierney, announcing our arrival. The old man replied that he must put on a clean shirt and would then be right out. The clean shirt, you'd want to put in the incinerator. He greeted each of us. When he came to me, he asked, "Is this Sister Solace"? When I answered, he asked, "When are you coming to take care of me"?

He then asked me to go upstairs and see if I could find a place to sleep. Picking up my habit, I followed the beaten path through the debris from the kitchen floor to the doorway that led upstairs. On my return I assured the old man that I found a place to sleep and it made him happy. Now the date was set for my return to San Pierre. In my heart I pondered long as to where in that house I could possibly fix myself a place to stay.

From lack of attention, in the house was accumulated the debris of years. For 65 years Mr. Tierney lived in that house with his mother and sister. Parent and sister having departed this life years ago. Some years ago while repairing a fence, a nail sprang from position and struck Mr. Tierney in the left eye. Lacking confidence in doctors, he attempted to care for the injury himself. Making no progress, the now malignant condition of his face was the result. He was a scholarly man and had mastered to fluency the languages of French, Latin, German and Greek. For many years he taught in high school and college. At an advanced age he retired from the teaching profession and acquired property adjacent to his present home until his holdings comprised three hundred eighty-eight acres.

 As the years came on, he realized his feebleness and the malignancy of his facial condition and had on several occasions asked friends if they would care for him. Polite refusal was always the answer. He then decided to build on his place a home for aged convalescents and to that end offered the site and monetary means to some religious Orders. It developed that due to the isolated location they deemed it impractical to accept the offer. The Orders were willing to sell the land, and build elsewhere, but while the old man was very desirous of doing something for fellow unfortunates, he was insistent that the San Pierre he loved be the location of the home.

One evening as he sat in the gloaming and lonesomeness of his home, in retrospect, he recalled that a cousin of his had been tenderly cared for by a Nun of our Order forty-five years ago. Sister M. Rossari was the Nun's name. It was then that he wrote to Rev. Mother at Chicago asking that she please pay him a visit. Mother M. Dunstan and Mother M. Stanislaus, accompanied by Fr. John of the San Pierre Parish visited Mr. Tierney in July, 1940. The result of their visit was: Nuns of the Little Company of Mary would take care of Mr. Tierney in his home until he died. His acres they could then have; with the stipulation for erection of a home for the aged convalescents as soon as practicable after the donor's demise. Mother M. Dunstan appointed Sister Virginia and I to go to Mr. Tierney's home the following week to clean the house and put the place in presentable condition and to give the old gentleman all the care that he so much needed. Knowing the conditions confronting us, Sister Virginia and I decided to take with <us> all the utensils and goods needed to recondition the home. Good Mother Dunstan supplied an auto truck which was filled to capacity with the necessary supplies. Leaving our Chicago convent after breakfast, we arrived at the new foundation at noon. The old man greeted us warmly. Although it was midday the house was almost dark inside. The smoke of years from the old stove had made all the windows opaque and the window shades that had been drawn for years, crumpled at the touch of the hand.
 The old man wanted that we sit down and talk.He chatted for some time. I then announced I would have to fix a place in the home to stay. He approved. Sister and I surveyed the second floor for a place to hang our habits. There was none. We placed a newspaper on a chair to lay our habits on, and we changed to overalls. Taking my hammer and a screwdriver, I removed a window. The midday sunshine streams into that room for the first time in, 10, those many years. Descriptive terms for that second floor would be difficult to phrase. We proceed to throw out the window the years' accumulation of useless objects. From  the  ceiling  were  suspended  hornets'  nests  as large as grapefruit. Valiantly Sister Virginia removed the nests while the hornets fill the room with buzzing sound as they protest this dispossession. After all litter has been tossed out the window, we scraped the walls. After long scrubbing, we had the second floor in fairly presentable condition.
We put up two sleeping cots we had brought with us. We were now a bit weary after our house cleaning. Sister Virginia proposed that we prepare some food. We came downstairs and sister started to clean the kitchen table. To my belief, no cleaning hand has touched that table in years. Good Sister Virginia scrubbed and rescrubbed that old table. The kitchen was a state of confusion. The lack of a woman's hand for orderliness and cleanliness was very apparent in the squalor of this bachelor home. I pumped water by hand and carried wood into the house. During the numerous tasks of the day, I'd often silioquise; "Lord, is it I"? From time to time the old man would want to help us. He'd go out to bring wood. To see him coming along carrying one piece of wood at his 90 years of age made one feel like picking him up and carrying both him and the wood into the house. We were not long at the place that first day when a good Protestant, Mrs. A. Eckert, came to us and offered the use of her home, and anything she had that we might need. We thanked her; and she and her family have been our good friends ever since. Sister and I now turn our attention to Mr. Tierney’s room on the first floor. Entering, we found his room without light. In the murky dimness was roughly outlined a couple of iron beds, a nonconnected bath tub, and a profusion of junk.  No windows were discernible in the room. Sister Virginia climbed over the beds and boxes to an opposite wall. There she located two windows and a door that leads outside. Sister started to remove the drawn window shade. At the touch of her hand the shade crumpled. Here also the windows were not transparent; accumulation of soot on the panes preclude the light. Sister got the door open. Now light was streaming into the room and we started to work. The condition of the rom beggars description. From smoke and flame from a faulty chimney, the ceiling was burned to crispness, and the old man never knew it. Providence alone was his Protector all those bygone years. We removed the entire contents of the room to the outdoors. From the ceiling, cobwebs hung to within five feet of the floor. That evening we had a carefully watched bonfire. The room we cleaned throughout. It now looked livable.
All that first day the patient had not been touched. On approaching him, he'd say: "Sister, I've made a vow that no one will ever touch me" (he was very sensitive about his facial condition)' "and that vow I will not break". So, I go on trying to sell the idea of my care to him. But no matter how long of convincingly I talk, he still quotes the vow.
We've now come to the end of the day's cleaning. I announce to Sister Virginia that I am going to give Mr. Tierney a bath. Taking a pail of water and a pound of soap, I start for his room. "If he throws me out, all right, but here I go". I told the old gentleman that I am going to bathe him. He utters not a word. In my long years of nursing, I've never seen a more neglected person. His clothing, I put in the incinerator. His poor body looked as though he had slept in a coal bin. Now, he is bathed and dressed in new underwear and a new suit. He now looks as though someone cared for him.
An old black hat that was riddled with holes, he had formed a special attachment for. I could not persuade him to part with the old hat. One day I told him I had put the hat away for the winter. I had put it away for all winters; I had put it in the fire. Now he felt clean, and remarked: "Sister, that was a bath that only a mother could give".
As the old man had no system of keeping papers of documents that might have been valuable, in any orderly fashion, we had to scan carefully all the litter and scraps of paper ‘ere we burned them; otherwise, things of value to him might be lost. All these 65 years frugality was observed in the Tierney home to an extreme degree. Nothing entering the house was wasted. The reverse side of old envelopes and advertisements were used to make notations on. We carefully accumulated and placed aside all his business mail. For thrift's sake, the good old people had foregone the comforts of life.
For reasons we never tried to ascertain, Mr. Tierney had remained away from his religious duties over 40 years. Good F.r John at Al Saints in San Pierre, had brought him back to the faith of his fathers. The change wrought in the penitent has been one of: From sinner to great saintliness. Truly I can say I've never heard the old gentleman utter one uncharitable word, and he prayed his rosary unceasingly. By now, we have the house ready for much needed repairs and decorating.  We have built a bathroom, and wallboarded parts of the house, consisting of three rooms upstairs, a porch, dining room and a bedroom downstairs. We have installed electricity, and the modern conveniences. Now the home is comfortably habitable. Sister Virginia has returned to Chicago; I am here alone with Mr. Tierney.
It is very lonesome here now, away from everyone. But God gives us the necessary grace to endure for the time and circumstances. One night to occupy my mind I am busying myself about the house, and strange for me, I was in a very quiet mood. Mr. Tierney was sitting quietly saying his rosary. He called out to me, "Are you lonesome, Sister"? Now the tears came fast and heavy. I replied: "No, Mr. Tierney, I ma not lonesome". The old man replied: "I am not lonesome, because I have you". 
summer is now waning and the foliage, due to early frosts, has <taken> on colors of beautiful tint. At this season, the countryside is beautiful. All being comfortable with my patient, I walk daily to the Catechist Chapel to hear Mass, and to receive Holy Communion.
It is now the latter part of October and the late autumnal rains have made the adjacent harvest fields all green with grass again. Soon winter is upon us and the countryside is heavily blanketed with snow. I shovel the snow around the house, and make a path to the mail box and the milk box. Our work is proceeding apace. The patient is almost tearfully appreciative for the care that is given him, at the late evening of his life's day. It is only with close union with the Holy Family that tasks in our hand can be successfully accomplished. Mr. Tierney is growing old and feeble; but his mental alertness is remarkable. His estate is not satisfactorily arranged. His stocks, bonds, and other property is not receiving due care and the present administrator is not in favor with those who are rightfully concerned. It is Faith, Hope and Trust in God and His Blessed Mother that will take care of it all. Personally, I do not trust the administrator.
Now real cold weather is with us, and the cold snow-laden winds from the north swirl the snow drifts about the house into fantastic shapes. Now Mr. Tierney has drawn up a new will. He has started a building fund, and has appointed a new administrator. Except for a few bequests to be made after his demise, he has left all of his possessions to The Little Company of Mary. The loneliness of the place has deepened now that the somber days of mid-winter are with us; the loneliness is accentuated by the brevity of daylight, in these, the shortest daylight days of the year. Each breaking dawn gives way to skies heavily gray, that betoken more snow, and the stillness of it all is a bit eerie.
I have come into possession of a beautiful cat; the only domestic animal on these three hundred and eighty-eight acres. 'Tis a cute animal'. But it has developed an annoying fondness for the old gentleman. No place suits Kitty but to perch on Mr. Tierney's lap or shoulders; then she purrs and purrs about the old man's beard. So to curb this annoyance, I devise a little scheme. I place a small bit of pepper on Mr. Tierney's beard. ‘Twas amusing to observe kitty's reaction after the first sniff of pepper. She sprang lithely from her perch and ran about the kitchen in circles. That cured Kitty.As I've mentioned, I attend the Catechist Chapel for Mass. The Gregorian chant is sung thereat, and in such a high squeak-like fashion, I've often thought that a whistle from me would fit into the pitch. One night after retiring, I decide to vocalize and take their pitch. Some hundred feet away from my abode is a very old cemetery. So here I start singing "Requieum Aeternum Dominum". No, that was not the way the Catechist sang it, so I get a fresh start - "Requeim Aeternum Dominum," when, very suddenly down fell a window. That stopped my singing. I thought as the crash of the falling window resounded on the still night, that I had summoned all and sundry from the old cemetery across the way to my room. I got a good scare.
It is now Christmas time of 1940 and I'm still alone in San Pierre with the dear patient. Albeit, weather has now turned beautiful for a spell; I do miss my community, and all that makes for Christmas merriment in our Convent home. But the cheery thought that my sacrifice will not go unrewarded helps dispel the loneliness. On Christmas Eve, the Catechist brought the children from San Pierre to the farm to sing the Christmas carols for us. (‘Twas something I had not expected, and it cheered both patient and I). Mr. Tierney and I went to Midnight Mass that Christmas Eve. The altars and crib for The Divine Infant were beautifully decorated. Fr. John gave a wonderful talk on, "peace on earth to men of good will".
Christmas Day brought to patient and I a most happy surprise, when the Catechist Fr. Maloney and the housekeeper at the Catechist rectory invited themselves to Christmas dinner with us. They brought with them a deliciously roasted turkey and all the fixings for a fine dinner. Inquiry from Father for the unexpected visit brought the reply that he wished the San Pierre community to have dinner together that day. My personal guess is that the good priest had long ago noted a gleam of lonesomeness in my eye and thought a visit may be cheering. The dinner was much enjoyed by all, and the day was a very happy one for patient and I. I had arranged colored light bulbs in the front windows, and a well-lit Christmas tree. Later I learned that a number of San Pierre residents had come past the house several times of an evening during the holidays to see the tree and lights as it was the first time in the memory of any of them that a light had been seen in the Tierney home.
Now I make my first investment in livestock for the cowless and hogless farm. I buy a pig. Intentions are to butcher it when it becomes well fatted. Fr. John counsels otherwise. He takes the pig to his place to raise it until autumn when he will return it , and it will multiply into many little pigs. The long winter is now past, and nature's perennial promise of the Resurrection to come is again with us, in the glorious days of the spring season. Sister Virginia has now returned to the farm. She has purchased two thoroughbred colts from Fr. John's brother.
An admirer of years of the work of The Little Company of Mary Nuns, a Mr. D. D. Keating of the National Decorating firm of Chicago, learns of our cowless farm, and generously offers to donate a fine bovine so that we may have fresh milk. To secure a fine type of cow, Mr. Keating commissioned a Veterinarian, Dr. Fred Mau, and a high class broker, a Mr. Ryan, both of Chicago, to procure a fine type of bovine as possible, and to disregard price of same. Dr. Mau and Mr. Ryan secured a fine Guernsey cow and delivered same to our farm. In a few weeks our newly acquired cow presented us with a fine calf. The cow,which we named Polly, was the nucleus of a small herd which we now possess.
Now in the fine spring days we are finishing repairs on the house and preparing to decorate, and we've started to put the long neglected farm into shape. There is another house on the farm, about 15 minutes walk from the Tierney residence. Its purpose was for a residence for the farm overseer. But some shiftless tenants that from time to time in the bygone years occupied the house have allowed it to fall into a sad state. We have repaired the house and installed a boss farmer…. Mr. Harold Weigenant and his wife and child. Poultry houses have been constructed. During the early spring we raised 500 white leghorn chicks in the Tierney garage. Mother M. Stanislaus was here at the farm the day the chicks arrived. She blessed each chick with holy water as they passed to the brooders. By coincidence, some months later Mother Stanislaus was again at the farm as the chicks, now much larger, were being transferred to the poultry yard at the far end of the farm. As each chick had to be handled several times to be properly crated, the task was tedious. So many difficulties have we encountered here, and happily overcome, that it is an impetus to, like a valiant soldier, "carry on", to spread the good work of The Little Company of Mary in many lands. While difficulties have arisen in multiples, their overcoming brings a satisfaction that comes from the knowledge of work well done.
Mr. Tierney's hearing is much impaired. His left eye is eaten away with cancer. The right eye is sufficiently strong to permit his transacting of his business affairs, and this he does with meticulous care. To the end, he retained a mental alertness truly remarkable. His sense of humor was very keen. Tactfully, he would never commit himself that he favored one person more than he did another. The whole time I was with him, he was up and about every day. As I returned from Mass each day, I'd find him up and dressed, and praying his rosary. I protested his early rising, particularly in cold weather; advised that he remain in bed until I’d have his breakfast ready after I’d returned from Mass. His answer always was: "If you can make the sacrifice to go to Mass in cold weather, I can make the little sacrifice of arising a bit early".
Sister Virginia remained at the house for a spell of time now and again up to the time of Mr. Tierney's death. 
Through the generosity of Mr. Tierney, the San Pierre Church of All Saints was rebuilt, and he was the first person to be buried from the rebuilt edifice. Despite his infirmities, Mr. Tierney went to the parish church to Mass and Holy Communion a number of times during the year preceding his death. As long as he was able to walk he would not permit Fr. John to bring Holy Communion to him. Easter Sunday of 1941 was the last time he attended Mass in the parish church.
He took keen delight in visits of the Nuns to his home and always implored them to prolong their visit. All letters emanating from the home were always dictated by Mr. Tierney. Every letter received was read to him several times. Although his sight and hearing were impaired, he realized how busy I was, and often he'd remark: "It is too much work for one person".
An outstanding trait of his orderly mind was his respect for authority. He realized that in Mother M. Stanislaus was reposed the authority of Superior and he was solicitous that she be accorded the full measure of respect due her high office. Whenever Mother M. Dunstan visited, he was always in kindly receptive mood to greet her, and everything pertaining to business plans was then cordially discussed. Repeatedly I've heard him remark: "She, Mother Dunstan, will do what is best, and as I wish".
It was his wish that at his demise all of his belongings revert to The Little Company of Mary. On July 4, 1941, the dear old man passed away peacefully. We had thought due to the cancerous facial conditions, exposition of the remains could not take place. However, so well did the embalmers do their work that the cancer was not discernible. The body was received at his San Pierre home and laid thereat until Monday when it was removed to All Saints Church where Fr. John celebrated High Mass. From there the body was taken to Sandusky, Ohio, accompanied by Rev. Fr. Hosinski, Sister M. Delourdes, Sister M. Solace, and Mr. Casey. There the remains lay in state in the Chapel, followed by a second solemn High Mass the next morning. Burial was in St. Joseph's Cemetery, alongside his parents and sister. So closed the long life of one who found peace beyond price, in the abiding return to the faith of his childhood. As the old gentleman closed his eyes on this vale of travail, much must have been his satisfaction at the amount of good, beyond all human reckoning, that the Giver of all good things, privileged him to do, in the generous benefactions to his fellow beingsIt is now late August in 1941. The farm, under the able supervision of Sister Virginia, is taking on the appearance of progress. Desiring to add some milk cows to the small herd, sister Virginia wrote to the donor of the first bovine on the new foundation to ascertain whereat some cows of Polly's type and breed could be purchased. Mr. Keating, the donor of Polly, graciously arranged for a visit to the farm of the Chicago Veterinarian, Dr. Mau, to the end that Sister Virginia might have able and expert advise on the subject of the milk cows, and the dairy industry. The Nuns being as yet neophytes in the agricultural field, Mr. Keating desired that their venture be started as propitiously as possible, and on a late Sunday in August, 1941, Dr. Mau and his good wife and three lovely children, together with a fine Protestant gentleman, M.r John Dinsmore, an expert in Animal Industry, paid a visit to the farm. Those two fine gentlemen took kind interest in our new foundation, and gratuitously advised Sister Virginia on the problems she would meet with, and the prudent solution of said problems. Sister Virginia and I prepared a dinner of fried chicken and all the fixings for our kind visitors, and they complimented us highly on our hospitality.
Herewith are copy of items taken from the daily press on the passing of our dear benefactor, Mr. John Tierney.
"LITTLE COMPANY OF MARY TO LOCATE IN SAN PIERRE"As a memorial to his late sister, Matilda, Mr. John Tierney, local pioneer settler, conveys his land and home adjoining San Pierre to Little Company of Mary, Inc. The land will be used as a site for buildings designated as a convent, a novitiate, a convalescent home and other buildings which the Sisters find essential to their needs in supplementing their present home and hospital situated at California Avenue and 95th Street, Evergreen Park, Illinois."The Little Company of Mary" since its foundation as a community of nursing Sisters in England, has grown to world-wide proportions and now operates in every continent on the globe, having hospitals in England, Ireland, Scotland, Australia, New Zealand, Africa, South America, Island of Malta and Italy. The Mother House being in Rome.The Little Company of Mary came to Chicago some sixty years ago at the invitation of a Mr. Maier, a prominent resident of Chicago who had been greatly impressed by the attention received during the illness of a member of his family while on a visit to Rome.Mr. Maier presented the Sisters with a building on Indiana Avenue in Chicago which they occupied as a novitiate house and a home for nursing Sisters for a number of years.However, as time went on, the demands on their services far outgrew the facilities of their Indiana Avenue building. Realizing their need for larger and more modern facilities, Judge McGoorty and other prominent Chicago citizens interested themselves in the worthy Order and as a result "The Little Company of Mary" now has one of the most modern equipped hospitals in Chicago, and are still expanding.In his generous act, Mr. Tierney was prompted by a two-fold desire - that of assisting the Sisters in a most worthy cause and at the same time utilizing a substantial portion of his worldly belongings toward the betterment of the community in which he made his home for the past sixty-five years. In the fulfillment of his desire, Mr. Tierney feels that had his late sister, Matilda, been aware of the circumstances, his present act would have had her most hearty approval.Mr. Tierney is one of the few remaining Starke County pioneers; the last of his family - his father, mother, and sister, Matilda - having passed on to their just reward.A native of Sandusky, Ohio, he had never lost interest in the memories of his friends of his boyhood and the progress of the city of his birth.
Thus far no plans have been made for the erection of the buildings planned by "The Little Company of Mary". Work on remodeling Mr. Tierney's residence, which will be converted into a home for Sisters, however, is under way. Mr. Tierney, meanwhile, is receiving the best of care and consideration at the hands of the Sisters who have dedicated themselves to the task of making his declining years as comfortable and pleasant as possible.********"JOHN TIERNEY, SAN PIERRE PIONEER RESIDENT, DIES"Although expected for some time, nevertheless, the death of Mr. John Tierney early last Friday morning, at his home in San Pierre, comes as a shock and served to spread a pall over the community in which he had resided for sixty years.He came to the San Pierre community from Sandusky, Ohio, with his sister, Matilda; after residing a short time in Wisconsin, where he began teaching school at the age of 19 years.Settling on what is known as the John Tierney farm, east of San Pierre, he later moved to the home near town in which his sister and he resided until death overtook them, she preceeding in death by three years.His sister and he spent twenty years teaching in that community, his first school being the Hog Island School which was assigned him by the trustee of Dewey Township, Porter County. When he settled in San Pierre back in 1875, property was divided by imaginary lines, trees, or other natural objects acting as landmarks. It was through his efforts and with his help that the first land surveys were made in that community. It was while thus engaged that he suffered an injury to his face which in later years developed into a cancer responsible for his death in his 91st year.When he retired from teaching, he, with his sister Matilda, settled down to a life of ease, enough worldly goods having been amassed to insure a comfortable living for both.Refusing to let their minds become inactive and thus fall behind the trend of times, he and his sister studied daily, keeping up with current events, and with sciences, arts, and music. This fact gave them both great enjoyment in later years, both passing away with mentalities mostamazing to those with whom they came in touch.Generous with this world's goods with which he was sufficiently blessed, he gave to any cause he deemed worthy. It was through his generosity that the parish of the All Saints Catholic Church of San Pierre, was able to proceed with the extensive alterations made on their church.At the death of his sister in 1937, which broke up a companionship that was most beautiful, he decided to use the bulk of his possessions for some cause that would serve as a living monument to her, and which would benefit the community in which they spent the greater part of their lives. He, therefore, gave to The Little Company of Mary Inc., of Evergreen Park, Illinois, his entire land ownings about San Pierre, upon which they will eventually build some Catholic institution - - an Invalids' Hospital being under consideration now.Funeral services were conducted Monday morning, 9:00 o'clock from the All Saints Church, San Pierre, Rev. John Hosinki, officiating. Remains were shipped to Sandusky, ohio, where they lay in state at the Frey Funeral Home Monday night and funeral services were conducted on Tuesday at a Catholic Church in that City.The remains of the deceased man were laid to rest with his father, mother and sister in the St. Joseph's Cemetery at Sandusky.He leaves no near relatives but he does leave a community whose people were proud of him and who will long remember him for generations to come.你圣* 次* * * *"San Pierre Dept."J o h n Do l e z a l , J r ."John Tierney, son of Joseph and Jane Cassidy, Tierney, was born in Sandusky, Ohio, on December 2, 1850. He departed this life at his home in San Pierre, Indiana, on July 4, 1941, after a lingering illness, having attained the enviable age of 90 years, 7 months and 2 days.His parents emigrated to America from Ireland, settling in Sandusky, Ohio, where their two children, John and Matilda, were born.On November 11, 1869, at the age of 19 years, John received a license to teach school, his first school being a district in Wisconsin, where he and his sister, Matilda, moved to enable him to take up his work.On May 28, 1875, they moved to San Pierre, where they made their home on what is known as the John Tierney farm, one mile southeast of town. Here they resided until the year 1889 when they moved to the present site near town where they finished their declining years together in a most beautiful and harmonious companionship.He received his first teaching assignment in Indiana under Mr. Huncheon of Dewey Twp. La Porte County, when he was given what was then known as Hog Island School to teach.After following the teaching profession for twenty years, he with his sister settled down to retirement, having amassed holdings of land about San Pierre and properties in Sandusky, Ohio and Chicago, from which they were assured of sufficient income to sustain them in their old age.With their teaching days over, they devoted their time to study and music, keeping carefully posted with current events and all developments in science and arts, cultivating most active mentalities from which they derived keen enjoyment to their dying day.On May 26, 1937, Matilda passed away at the Holy Family Hospital, La Porte, Indiana, severing a lifelong companionship, the effects of which Mr. Tierney felt keenly to his death.It was the cherished memory of his beloved sister that prompted him on July 3, 1940, to consign his large land holdings about San Pierre to The Little Company of Mary, Inc., Evergreen Park, Illinois, with the stipulation that they erect and maintain some Catholic institution on these grounds that would both supplement their Chicago institution and at the same time prove of benefit to the San Pierre community, where he, with his sister, resided for sixty years.Agreeing to his proposition, The Little Company of Mary, Inc., whose mother home is located in Rome and which operates hospitals in practically all countries of the world, took charge of Mr. Tierney, giving him every care and comfort trained nurses could give him.His remains were taken to Sandusky, Ohio, following a Mass service at the All Saints Catholic Church of San Pierre, where on their arrival in that city, a Solemn High Mass was held in the S. S. Peter and Paul Church. Internment was made at the St. Joseph Cemetery beside his father, mother and sister.Although no near relatives survive him, the countless friends and acquaintances of this aged patriarch will carry his memory in their hearts and mind, and in their hours of despair at the beckon of age, they will find comfort and solace knowing that this man found interest and contentment in life until death.Thus closes the saga of a lonely Indiana farm, and its only occupant. May his reward be great, and his memory long revered by our community.
Sister M. Solace






      "THE SAGA OF AN INDIANA FÄRM AND IT'S AGING AND ONLY OCCUPANT BY SISTER M. SOLACE LITTLE COMPANY OF MARY NURSING ORDER   While vacationing at the Sisters' Cottage in San Pierre, Indiana, in the summer of 1940, I learned of an aged and afflicted man who lived alone on his farm about two miles from our cottage. Being apprised of the man's condition, and thinking to bring a bit of cheer into his evening of life's day, with Sister M.Virginia, one beautiful May morning we walked the distance to the farm of the sick man. In response to our door knock the old man appeared. Introductions over, Mr. Tierney invited us to sit on the porch.The kindly and mentally alert old man endeavored to supply entertaining conversation on the homeland of his parents when he learned that I, like they, was Irish born. It was obvious that the old gentleman was keenly conscious of a repulsive condition of the entire left side of his face in the form of a malignant cancerous condition. There was no dressing on the face and from the corrupting wound, worms crawled in and out. 
Trying to cheer him, I sang to him the hymn, "God Bless This House", and talked to him of Ireland and of Irish Folklore which seemed to please him very much. We had brought some fine broth with us and I asked Sister Virginia to heat some for him. Stepping into the kitchen, Sister could not immediately locate the stove due to the dimness of the place and the debris that littered the room. Finally locating the stove, Sister heated the broth, using old newspapers for fuel. ةلملانتThe old man enjoyed the broth and voluably expressed his thanks. His condition and the squalor of the home prompted me to ask him to come to our Chicago Hospital where all conveniences and comforts were available for his care. In courteous tone he refused, stating that it was his wish to breathe his last on his San Pierre farm. Hе then asked if my Superiors would permit me to care for him at his home. Looking at him and noting the worms crawling the cancer surface, I replied: "Oh, yes, Mr. Tierney, I will take care of you." Almost immediately I was (to use a seasick person's phraseology) "feeding the fishes". All that day and night I was sick. Mr. Tierney was not a man of repulsive manner. In his bearded face, I seem to visualize the countenance of St.Joseph.That evening we delivered Mr.Tierney's request for care at his home by phone to Rev. Mother at Chicago. She expressed surprise as some time before she had asked him to come to the hospital for treatment. At the end of the week, Rev. Mother came to our San Pierre cottage and had dinner with us. After dinner, Rev. Mother, Sister Virginia, and I, went to call on Mr. Tierney. First, we called at the rectory of Fr. John Hosinski at San Pierre. Fr. John accompanied us to the Tierney home. The doors being locked, Fr. John went to the rear of the house and called to Mr. Tierney, announcing our arrival. The old man replied that he must put on a clean shirt and would then be right out. The clean shirt, you'd want to put in the incinerator. He greeted each of us. When he came to me, he asked, "Is this Sister Solace"? When I answered, he asked, "When are you coming to take care of me"?
He then asked me to go upstairs and see if I could find a place to sleep. Picking up my habit, I followed the beaten path through the debris from the kitchen floor to the doorway that led upstairs. On my return I assured the old man that I found a place to sleep and it made him happy. Now the date was set for my return to San Pierre. In my heart I pondered long as to where in that house I could possibly fix myself a place to stay.
From lack of attention, in the house was accumulated the debris of years. For 65 years Mr. Tierney lived in that house with his mother and sister. Parent and sister having departed this life years ago. Some years ago while repairing a fence, a nail sprang from position and struck Mr. Tierney in the left eye. Lacking confidence in doctors, he attempted to care for the injury himself. Making no progress, the now malignant condition of his face was the result. He was a scholarly man and had mastered to fluency the languages of French, Latin, German and Greek. For many years he taught in high school and college. At an advanced age he retired from the teaching profession and acquired property adjacent to his present home until his holdings comprised three hundred eighty-eight acres.
 As the years came on, he realized his feebleness and the malignancy of his facial condition and had on several occasions asked friends if they would care for him. Polite refusal was always the answer. He then decided to build on his place a home for aged convalescents and to that end offered the site and monetary means to some religious Orders. It developed that due to the isolated location they deemed it impractical to accept the offer. The Orders were willing to sell the land, and build elsewhere, but while the old man was very desirous of doing something for fellow unfortunates, he was insistent that the San Pierre he loved be the location of the home.
One evening as he sat in the gloaming and lonesomeness of his home, in retrospect, he recalled that a cousin of his had been tenderly cared for by a Nun of our Order forty-five years ago. Sister M. Rossari was the Nun's name. It was then that he wrote to Rev. Mother at Chicago asking that she please pay him a visit. Mother M. Dunstan and Mother M. Stanislaus, accompanied by Fr. John of the San Pierre Parish visited Mr. Tierney in July, 1940. The result of their visit was: Nuns of the Little Company of Mary would take care of Mr. Tierney in his home until he died. His acres they could then have; with the stipulation for erection of a home for the aged convalescents as soon as practicable after the donor's demise. Mother M. Dunstan appointed Sister Virginia and I to go to Mr. Tierney's home the following week to clean the house and put the place in presentable condition and to give the old gentleman all the care that he so much needed. Knowing the conditions confronting us, Sister Virginia and I decided to take with <us> all the utensils and goods needed to recondition the home. Good Mother Dunstan supplied an auto truck which was filled to capacity with the necessary supplies. Leaving our Chicago convent after breakfast, we arrived at the new foundation at noon. The old man greeted us warmly. Although it was midday the house was almost dark inside. The smoke of years from the old stove had made all the windows opaque and the window shades that had been drawn for years, crumpled at the touch of the hand.
 The old man wanted that we sit down and talk.He chatted for some time. I then announced I would have to fix a place in the home to stay. He approved. Sister and I surveyed the second floor for a place to hang our habits. There was none. We placed a newspaper on a chair to lay our habits on, and we changed to overalls. Taking my hammer and a screwdriver, I removed a window. The midday sunshine streams into that room for the first time in, 10, those many years. Descriptive terms for that second floor would be difficult to phrase. We proceed to throw out the window the years' accumulation of useless objects. From  the  ceiling  were  suspended  hornets'  nests  as large as grapefruit. Valiantly Sister Virginia removed the nests while the hornets fill the room with buzzing sound as they protest this dispossession. After all litter has been tossed out the window, we scraped the walls. After long scrubbing, we had the second floor in fairly presentable condition.
We put up two sleeping cots we had brought with us. We were now a bit weary after our house cleaning. Sister Virginia proposed that we prepare some food. We came downstairs and sister started to clean the kitchen table. To my belief, no cleaning hand has touched that table in years. Good Sister Virginia scrubbed and rescrubbed that old table. The kitchen was a state of confusion. The lack of a woman's hand for orderliness and cleanliness was very apparent in the squalor of this bachelor home. I pumped water by hand and carried wood into the house. During the numerous tasks of the day, I'd often silioquise; "Lord, is it I"? From time to time the old man would want to help us. He'd go out to bring wood. To see him coming along carrying one piece of wood at his 90 years of age made one feel like picking him up and carrying both him and the wood into the house. We were not long at the place that first day when a good Protestant, Mrs. A. Eckert, came to us and offered the use of her home, and anything she had that we might need. We thanked her; and she and her family have been our good friends ever since. Sister and I now turn our attention to Mr. Tierney’s room on the first floor. Entering, we found his room without light. In the murky dimness was roughly outlined a couple of iron beds, a nonconnected bath tub, and a profusion of junk.  No windows were discernible in the room. Sister Virginia climbed over the beds and boxes to an opposite wall. There she located two windows and a door that leads outside. Sister started to remove the drawn window shade. At the touch of her hand the shade crumpled. Here also the windows were not transparent; accumulation of soot on the panes preclude the light. Sister got the door open. Now light was streaming into the room and we started to work. The condition of the rom beggars description. From smoke and flame from a faulty chimney, the ceiling was burned to crispness, and the old man never knew it. Providence alone was his Protector all those bygone years. We removed the entire contents of the room to the outdoors. From the ceiling, cobwebs hung to within five feet of the floor. That evening we had a carefully watched bonfire. The room we cleaned throughout. It now looked livable.
All that first day the patient had not been touched. On approaching him, he'd say: "Sister, I've made a vow that no one will ever touch me" (he was very sensitive about his facial condition)' "and that vow I will not break". So, I go on trying to sell the idea of my care to him. But no matter how long of convincingly I talk, he still quotes the vow.
We've now come to the end of the day's cleaning. I announce to Sister Virginia that I am going to give Mr. Tierney a bath. Taking a pail of water and a pound of soap, I start for his room. "If he throws me out, all right, but here I go". I told the old gentleman that I am going to bathe him. He utters not a word. In my long years of nursing, I've never seen a more neglected person. His clothing, I put in the incinerator. His poor body looked as though he had slept in a coal bin. Now, he is bathed and dressed in new underwear and a new suit. He now looks as though someone cared for him.
An old black hat that was riddled with holes, he had formed a special attachment for. I could not persuade him to part with the old hat. One day I told him I had put the hat away for the winter. I had put it away for all winters; I had put it in the fire. Now he felt clean, and remarked: "Sister, that was a bath that only a mother could give".
As the old man had no system of keeping papers of documents that might have been valuable, in any orderly fashion, we had to scan carefully all the litter and scraps of paper ‘ere we burned them; otherwise, things of value to him might be lost. All these 65 years frugality was observed in the Tierney home to an extreme degree. Nothing entering the house was wasted. The reverse side of old envelopes and advertisements were used to make notations on. We carefully accumulated and placed aside all his business mail. For thrift's sake, the good old people had foregone the comforts of life.
For reasons we never tried to ascertain, Mr. Tierney had remained away from his religious duties over 40 years. Good F.r John at Al Saints in San Pierre, had brought him back to the faith of his fathers. The change wrought in the penitent has been one of: From sinner to great saintliness. Truly I can say I've never heard the old gentleman utter one uncharitable word, and he prayed his rosary unceasingly. By now, we have the house ready for much needed repairs and decorating.  We have built a bathroom, and wallboarded parts of the house, consisting of three rooms upstairs, a porch, dining room and a bedroom downstairs. We have installed electricity, and the modern conveniences. Now the home is comfortably habitable. Sister Virginia has returned to Chicago; I am here alone with Mr. Tierney.
It is very lonesome here now, away from everyone. But God gives us the necessary grace to endure for the time and circumstances. One night to occupy my mind I am busying myself about the house, and strange for me, I was in a very quiet mood. Mr. Tierney was sitting quietly saying his rosary. He called out to me, "Are you lonesome, Sister"? Now the tears came fast and heavy. I replied: "No, Mr. Tierney, I ma not lonesome". The old man replied: "I am not lonesome, because I have you". 
summer is now waning and the foliage, due to early frosts, has <taken> on colors of beautiful tint. At this season, the countryside is beautiful. All being comfortable with my patient, I walk daily to the Catechist Chapel to hear Mass, and to receive Holy Communion.
It is now the latter part of October and the late autumnal rains have made the adjacent harvest fields all green with grass again. Soon winter is upon us and the countryside is heavily blanketed with snow. I shovel the snow around the house, and make a path to the mail box and the milk box. Our work is proceeding apace. The patient is almost tearfully appreciative for the care that is given him, at the late evening of his life's day. It is only with close union with the Holy Family that tasks in our hand can be successfully accomplished. Mr. Tierney is growing old and feeble; but his mental alertness is remarkable. His estate is not satisfactorily arranged. His stocks, bonds, and other property is not receiving due care and the present administrator is not in favor with those who are rightfully concerned. It is Faith, Hope and Trust in God and His Blessed Mother that will take care of it all. Personally, I do not trust the administrator.
Now real cold weather is with us, and the cold snow-laden winds from the north swirl the snow drifts about the house into fantastic shapes. Now Mr. Tierney has drawn up a new will. He has started a building fund, and has appointed a new administrator. Except for a few bequests to be made after his demise, he has left all of his possessions to The Little Company of Mary. The loneliness of the place has deepened now that the somber days of mid-winter are with us; the loneliness is accentuated by the brevity of daylight, in these, the shortest daylight days of the year. Each breaking dawn gives way to skies heavily gray, that betoken more snow, and the stillness of it all is a bit eerie.
I have come into possession of a beautiful cat; the only domestic animal on these three hundred and eighty-eight acres. 'Tis a cute animal'. But it has developed an annoying fondness for the old gentleman. No place suits Kitty but to perch on Mr. Tierney's lap or shoulders; then she purrs and purrs about the old man's beard. So to curb this annoyance, I devise a little scheme. I place a small bit of pepper on Mr. Tierney's beard. ‘Twas amusing to observe kitty's reaction after the first sniff of pepper. She sprang lithely from her perch and ran about the kitchen in circles. That cured Kitty.As I've mentioned, I attend the Catechist Chapel for Mass. The Gregorian chant is sung thereat, and in such a high squeak-like fashion, I've often thought that a whistle from me would fit into the pitch. One night after retiring, I decide to vocalize and take their pitch. Some hundred feet away from my abode is a very old cemetery. So here I start singing "Requieum Aeternum Dominum". No, that was not the way the Catechist sang it, so I get a fresh start - "Requeim Aeternum Dominum," when, very suddenly down fell a window. That stopped my singing. I thought as the crash of the falling window resounded on the still night, that I had summoned all and sundry from the old cemetery across the way to my room. I got a good scare.
It is now Christmas time of 1940 and I'm still alone in San Pierre with the dear patient. Albeit, weather has now turned beautiful for a spell; I do miss my community, and all that makes for Christmas merriment in our Convent home. But the cheery thought that my sacrifice will not go unrewarded helps dispel the loneliness. On Christmas Eve, the Catechist brought the children from San Pierre to the farm to sing the Christmas carols for us. (‘Twas something I had not expected, and it cheered both patient and I). Mr. Tierney and I went to Midnight Mass that Christmas Eve. The altars and crib for The Divine Infant were beautifully decorated. Fr. John gave a wonderful talk on, "peace on earth to men of good will".
Christmas Day brought to patient and I a most happy surprise, when the Catechist Fr. Maloney and the housekeeper at the Catechist rectory invited themselves to Christmas dinner with us. They brought with them a deliciously roasted turkey and all the fixings for a fine dinner. Inquiry from Father for the unexpected visit brought the reply that he wished the San Pierre community to have dinner together that day. My personal guess is that the good priest had long ago noted a gleam of lonesomeness in my eye and thought a visit may be cheering. The dinner was much enjoyed by all, and the day was a very happy one for patient and I. I had arranged colored light bulbs in the front windows, and a well-lit Christmas tree. Later I learned that a number of San Pierre residents had come past the house several times of an evening during the holidays to see the tree and lights as it was the first time in the memory of any of them that a light had been seen in the Tierney home.
Now I make my first investment in livestock for the cowless and hogless farm. I buy a pig. Intentions are to butcher it when it becomes well fatted. Fr. John counsels otherwise. He takes the pig to his place to raise it until autumn when he will return it , and it will multiply into many little pigs. The long winter is now past, and nature's perennial promise of the Resurrection to come is again with us, in the glorious days of the spring season. Sister Virginia has now returned to the farm. She has purchased two thoroughbred colts from Fr. John's brother.
An admirer of years of the work of The Little Company of Mary Nuns, a Mr. D. D. Keating of the National Decorating firm of Chicago, learns of our cowless farm, and generously offers to donate a fine bovine so that we may have fresh milk. To secure a fine type of cow, Mr. Keating commissioned a Veterinarian, Dr. Fred Mau, and a high class broker, a Mr. Ryan, both of Chicago, to procure a fine type of bovine as possible, and to disregard price of same. Dr. Mau and Mr. Ryan secured a fine Guernsey cow and delivered same to our farm. In a few weeks our newly acquired cow presented us with a fine calf. The cow,which we named Polly, was the nucleus of a small herd which we now possess.
Now in the fine spring days we are finishing repairs on the house and preparing to decorate, and we've started to put the long neglected farm into shape. There is another house on the farm, about 15 minutes walk from the Tierney residence. Its purpose was for a residence for the farm overseer. But some shiftless tenants that from time to time in the bygone years occupied the house have allowed it to fall into a sad state. We have repaired the house and installed a boss farmer…. Mr. Harold Weigenant and his wife and child. Poultry houses have been constructed. During the early spring we raised 500 white leghorn chicks in the Tierney garage. Mother M. Stanislaus was here at the farm the day the chicks arrived. She blessed each chick with holy water as they passed to the brooders. By coincidence, some months later Mother Stanislaus was again at the farm as the chicks, now much larger, were being transferred to the poultry yard at the far end of the farm. As each chick had to be handled several times to be properly crated, the task was tedious. So many difficulties have we encountered here, and happily overcome, that it is an impetus to, like a valiant soldier, "carry on", to spread the good work of The Little Company of Mary in many lands. While difficulties have arisen in multiples, their overcoming brings a satisfaction that comes from the knowledge of work well done.
Mr. Tierney's hearing is much impaired. His left eye is eaten away with cancer. The right eye is sufficiently strong to permit his transacting of his business affairs, and this he does with meticulous care. To the end, he retained a mental alertness truly remarkable. His sense of humor was very keen. Tactfully, he would never commit himself that he favored one person more than he did another. The whole time I was with him, he was up and about every day. As I returned from Mass each day, I'd find him up and dressed, and praying his rosary. I protested his early rising, particularly in cold weather; advised that he remain in bed until I’d have his breakfast ready after I’d returned from Mass. His answer always was: "If you can make the sacrifice to go to Mass in cold weather, I can make the little sacrifice of arising a bit early".
Sister Virginia remained at the house for a spell of time now and again up to the time of Mr. Tierney's death. 
Through the generosity of Mr. Tierney, the San Pierre Church of All Saints was rebuilt, and he was the first person to be buried from the rebuilt edifice. Despite his infirmities, Mr. Tierney went to the parish church to Mass and Holy Communion a number of times during the year preceding his death. As long as he was able to walk he would not permit Fr. John to bring Holy Communion to him. Easter Sunday of 1941 was the last time he attended Mass in the parish church.
He took keen delight in visits of the Nuns to his home and always implored them to prolong their visit. All letters emanating from the home were always dictated by Mr. Tierney. Every letter received was read to him several times. Although his sight and hearing were impaired, he realized how busy I was, and often he'd remark: "It is too much work for one person".
An outstanding trait of his orderly mind was his respect for authority. He realized that in Mother M. Stanislaus was reposed the authority of Superior and he was solicitous that she be accorded the full measure of respect due her high office. Whenever Mother M. Dunstan visited, he was always in kindly receptive mood to greet her, and everything pertaining to business plans was then cordially discussed. Repeatedly I've heard him remark: "She, Mother Dunstan, will do what is best, and as I wish".
It was his wish that at his demise all of his belongings revert to The Little Company of Mary. On July 4, 1941, the dear old man passed away peacefully. We had thought due to the cancerous facial conditions, exposition of the remains could not take place. However, so well did the embalmers do their work that the cancer was not discernible. The body was received at his San Pierre home and laid thereat until Monday when it was removed to All Saints Church where Fr. John celebrated High Mass. From there the body was taken to Sandusky, Ohio, accompanied by Rev. Fr. Hosinski, Sister M. Delourdes, Sister M. Solace, and Mr. Casey. There the remains lay in state in the Chapel, followed by a second solemn High Mass the next morning. Burial was in St. Joseph's Cemetery, alongside his parents and sister. So closed the long life of one who found peace beyond price, in the abiding return to the faith of his childhood. As the old gentleman closed his eyes on this vale of travail, much must have been his satisfaction at the amount of good, beyond all human reckoning, that the Giver of all good things, privileged him to do, in the generous benefactions to his fellow beingsIt is now late August in 1941. The farm, under the able supervision of Sister Virginia, is taking on the appearance of progress. Desiring to add some milk cows to the small herd, sister Virginia wrote to the donor of the first bovine on the new foundation to ascertain whereat some cows of Polly's type and breed could be purchased. Mr. Keating, the donor of Polly, graciously arranged for a visit to the farm of the Chicago Veterinarian, Dr. Mau, to the end that Sister Virginia might have able and expert advise on the subject of the milk cows, and the dairy industry. The Nuns being as yet neophytes in the agricultural field, Mr. Keating desired that their venture be started as propitiously as possible, and on a late Sunday in August, 1941, Dr. Mau and his good wife and three lovely children, together with a fine Protestant gentleman, M.r John Dinsmore, an expert in Animal Industry, paid a visit to the farm. Those two fine gentlemen took kind interest in our new foundation, and gratuitously advised Sister Virginia on the problems she would meet with, and the prudent solution of said problems. Sister Virginia and I prepared a dinner of fried chicken and all the fixings for our kind visitors, and they complimented us highly on our hospitality.
Herewith are copy of items taken from the daily press on the passing of our dear benefactor, Mr. John Tierney.
"LITTLE COMPANY OF MARY TO LOCATE IN SAN PIERRE"As a memorial to his late sister, Matilda, Mr. John Tierney, local pioneer settler, conveys his land and home adjoining San Pierre to Little Company of Mary, Inc. The land will be used as a site for buildings designated as a convent, a novitiate, a convalescent home and other buildings which the Sisters find essential to their needs in supplementing their present home and hospital situated at California Avenue and 95th Street, Evergreen Park, Illinois."The Little Company of Mary" since its foundation as a community of nursing Sisters in England, has grown to world-wide proportions and now operates in every continent on the globe, having hospitals in England, Ireland, Scotland, Australia, New Zealand, Africa, South America, Island of Malta and Italy. The Mother House being in Rome.The Little Company of Mary came to Chicago some sixty years ago at the invitation of a Mr. Maier, a prominent resident of Chicago who had been greatly impressed by the attention received during the illness of a member of his family while on a visit to Rome.Mr. Maier presented the Sisters with a building on Indiana Avenue in Chicago which they occupied as a novitiate house and a home for nursing Sisters for a number of years.However, as time went on, the demands on their services far outgrew the facilities of their Indiana Avenue building. Realizing their need for larger and more modern facilities, Judge McGoorty and other prominent Chicago citizens interested themselves in the worthy Order and as a result "The Little Company of Mary" now has one of the most modern equipped hospitals in Chicago, and are still expanding.In his generous act, Mr. Tierney was prompted by a two-fold desire - that of assisting the Sisters in a most worthy cause and at the same time utilizing a substantial portion of his worldly belongings toward the betterment of the community in which he made his home for the past sixty-five years. In the fulfillment of his desire, Mr. Tierney feels that had his late sister, Matilda, been aware of the circumstances, his present act would have had her most hearty approval.Mr. Tierney is one of the few remaining Starke County pioneers; the last of his family - his father, mother, and sister, Matilda - having passed on to their just reward.A native of Sandusky, Ohio, he had never lost interest in the memories of his friends of his boyhood and the progress of the city of his birth.
Thus far no plans have been made for the erection of the buildings planned by "The Little Company of Mary". Work on remodeling Mr. Tierney's residence, which will be converted into a home for Sisters, however, is under way. Mr. Tierney, meanwhile, is receiving the best of care and consideration at the hands of the Sisters who have dedicated themselves to the task of making his declining years as comfortable and pleasant as possible.********"JOHN TIERNEY, SAN PIERRE PIONEER RESIDENT, DIES"Although expected for some time, nevertheless, the death of Mr. John Tierney early last Friday morning, at his home in San Pierre, comes as a shock and served to spread a pall over the community in which he had resided for sixty years.He came to the San Pierre community from Sandusky, Ohio, with his sister, Matilda; after residing a short time in Wisconsin, where he began teaching school at the age of 19 years.Settling on what is known as the John Tierney farm, east of San Pierre, he later moved to the home near town in which his sister and he resided until death overtook them, she preceeding in death by three years.His sister and he spent twenty years teaching in that community, his first school being the Hog Island School which was assigned him by the trustee of Dewey Township, Porter County. When he settled in San Pierre back in 1875, property was divided by imaginary lines, trees, or other natural objects acting as landmarks. It was through his efforts and with his help that the first land surveys were made in that community. It was while thus engaged that he suffered an injury to his face which in later years developed into a cancer responsible for his death in his 91st year.When he retired from teaching, he, with his sister Matilda, settled down to a life of ease, enough worldly goods having been amassed to insure a comfortable living for both.Refusing to let their minds become inactive and thus fall behind the trend of times, he and his sister studied daily, keeping up with current events, and with sciences, arts, and music. This fact gave them both great enjoyment in later years, both passing away with mentalities mostamazing to those with whom they came in touch.Generous with this world's goods with which he was sufficiently blessed, he gave to any cause he deemed worthy. It was through his generosity that the parish of the All Saints Catholic Church of San Pierre, was able to proceed with the extensive alterations made on their church.At the death of his sister in 1937, which broke up a companionship that was most beautiful, he decided to use the bulk of his possessions for some cause that would serve as a living monument to her, and which would benefit the community in which they spent the greater part of their lives. He, therefore, gave to The Little Company of Mary Inc., of Evergreen Park, Illinois, his entire land ownings about San Pierre, upon which they will eventually build some Catholic institution - - an Invalids' Hospital being under consideration now.Funeral services were conducted Monday morning, 9:00 o'clock from the All Saints Church, San Pierre, Rev. John Hosinki, officiating. Remains were shipped to Sandusky, ohio, where they lay in state at the Frey Funeral Home Monday night and funeral services were conducted on Tuesday at a Catholic Church in that City.The remains of the deceased man were laid to rest with his father, mother and sister in the St. Joseph's Cemetery at Sandusky.He leaves no near relatives but he does leave a community whose people were proud of him and who will long remember him for generations to come.你圣* 次* * * *"San Pierre Dept."J o h n Do l e z a l , J r ."John Tierney, son of Joseph and Jane Cassidy, Tierney, was born in Sandusky, Ohio, on December 2, 1850. He departed this life at his home in San Pierre, Indiana, on July 4, 1941, after a lingering illness, having attained the enviable age of 90 years, 7 months and 2 days.His parents emigrated to America from Ireland, settling in Sandusky, Ohio, where their two children, John and Matilda, were born.On November 11, 1869, at the age of 19 years, John received a license to teach school, his first school being a district in Wisconsin, where he and his sister, Matilda, moved to enable him to take up his work.On May 28, 1875, they moved to San Pierre, where they made their home on what is known as the John Tierney farm, one mile southeast of town. Here they resided until the year 1889 when they moved to the present site near town where they finished their declining years together in a most beautiful and harmonious companionship.He received his first teaching assignment in Indiana under Mr. Huncheon of Dewey Twp. La Porte County, when he was given what was then known as Hog Island School to teach.After following the teaching profession for twenty years, he with his sister settled down to retirement, having amassed holdings of land about San Pierre and properties in Sandusky, Ohio and Chicago, from which they were assured of sufficient income to sustain them in their old age.With their teaching days over, they devoted their time to study and music, keeping carefully posted with current events and all developments in science and arts, cultivating most active mentalities from which they derived keen enjoyment to their dying day.On May 26, 1937, Matilda passed away at the Holy Family Hospital, La Porte, Indiana, severing a lifelong companionship, the effects of which Mr. Tierney felt keenly to his death.It was the cherished memory of his beloved sister that prompted him on July 3, 1940, to consign his large land holdings about San Pierre to The Little Company of Mary, Inc., Evergreen Park, Illinois, with the stipulation that they erect and maintain some Catholic institution on these grounds that would both supplement their Chicago institution and at the same time prove of benefit to the San Pierre community, where he, with his sister, resided for sixty years.Agreeing to his proposition, The Little Company of Mary, Inc., whose mother home is located in Rome and which operates hospitals in practically all countries of the world, took charge of Mr. Tierney, giving him every care and comfort trained nurses could give him.His remains were taken to Sandusky, Ohio, following a Mass service at the All Saints Catholic Church of San Pierre, where on their arrival in that city, a Solemn High Mass was held in the S. S. Peter and Paul Church. Internment was made at the St. Joseph Cemetery beside his father, mother and sister.Although no near relatives survive him, the countless friends and acquaintances of this aged patriarch will carry his memory in their hearts and mind, and in their hours of despair at the beckon of age, they will find comfort and solace knowing that this man found interest and contentment in life until death.Thus closes the saga of a lonely Indiana farm, and its only occupant. May his reward be great, and his memory long revered by our community.
Sister M. Solace