Boston History in the Novel

History as Inheritance

Boston history runs in my blood. One side of my family made its start in the city a century ago and settled on Zeigler Street in Roxbury. The other half began in South Boston and Dorchester around the same time. They were all Irish immigrants. And they lived through the political power shift led by figures from James Michael Curley to John B. Hynes and finally Raymond Flynn. It brought the Irish from underdogs to top dogs at the local and state level.

I inherited that legacy, both the good and the bad. My own generation lived through the last of those years as the city continued to evolve. There were new cultural shifts and more immigrants from different parts of the world.

Our Common Ground: The T

One thing familiar to anyone who’s lived in the city over the last 100 years is the T. It’s the network of trains, trolleys and bus lines connecting the different neighborhoods. It spreads like a system of veins and arteries that flow underground, overhead and beneath Boston Harbor. It’s also been described as a hub with spokes. The different routes are color-coded in red, blue, green and orange.

An illustration of Boston's MBTA transit routes, including the Red Line, Orange Line, Blue Line and Green Line.
Whether it’s running well of breaking down constantly, people in Boston rely on the T to get where they’re going every day.

The T was used by my grandparents and parents to commute every day to work, and to visit relatives and friends. When I was about ten, my friends and I started finding ways to sneak into subway stations without paying. We’d explore the city that way, and sometimes get into some interesting trouble. As a teenager, I rode the Red Line from Ashmont Station in Dorchester to Boston Latin five days a week. After school, it was the Green Line that delivered me to a part-time job in Allston and to baseball practice near Cleveland Circle. In fall, the Orange Line took me to cross-country practice at Franklin Park.

Another thread running through the fabric of Boston history and my family history is sports. My dad played in an amateur baseball league until he was twenty. In one game at Fields Corner, he was jogging across the infield when he spotted Babe Ruth sitting in the stands. The retired Sultan of Swat was wearing his trademark raccoon coat to ward off the blustery winds of an early-spring day.

Sports in Boston History

My dad took the Red Line to work at 6:15 every morning, and I boarded a half hour later for school. Sometimes though, we’d travel the T together. We’d go to baseball games at Fenway, hockey games at the old Boston Arena, the Boston Garden and BC’s McHugh Forum. The first time we rode it to BU’s brand new Walter Brown Arena, he pointed across the street to Nickerson Field. It’s where Boston Latin played Boston English every November in the traditional Thanksgiving Day football game. “That’s used to be a baseball field where I watched the Boston Braves.”

A photo of Fenway Park in Boston, taken from the stands near home plate.
Built in 1912, Fenway Park is a landmark familiar to generations of people who have lived in Boston.

Every neighborhood of the city had its own character. That’s what I learned after I finished college and moved out of Dorchester. Through my twenties, I shared apartments in the Back Bay, Roslindale, Somerville and Brighton. To pay the rent, I was a sandblaster, painter, chimney sweep, and a residential and industrial roofer. I waited tables at a Northern Avenue restaurant called Jimbos, worked at a downtown company called Pilot Executive Software, and memorized the tangled layout of Boston streets while driving a taxi.

The Many Takes From Street Level

When you work as a cabdriver in a city, you know a lot, more than just the best routes to the airport during rush hour. You learn everything going on in the different neighborhoods, down to specific streets. You become a scholar of the whole culture and its many subcultures.

Waiting at a cab stand for my next fare, I liked to scan that day’s Boston Globe. I’d read about the latest political drama playing out on Beacon Hill or at City Hall. Billy Bulger was often the main character in those stories. His brother Whitey would sometimes compete for the same space on page one with his latest underworld schemes. The media liked to refer to Whitey as the head of the Irish mob. It was maybe too grand of a title, but he certainly was a major player in the New England drug trade and other rackets.

Irish American Whitey Bulger
In 1984 Whitey Bulger Schemed With Pat Nee and Joe Murray to Run Guns to the IRA.

Through the Lens of a Writer

That was around the same time I began to consider a future as a writer. Not that my writing consisted of much more than some journaling and a few attempts at short stories. But I could imagine a grand storytelling canvas on which Boston’s local dramas could play out.

Those dramas included school desegregation in the 70s. I write more about that in a post titled Boston and Its Busing Problem. It was a time when South Boston politicians like Billy Bulger, Louise Day Hicks and Jim Kelly were resisting change and stirring up animosity. There were some, like Ray Flynn, who opposed busing but spoke out against racial rhetoric and violence. For refusing to join the more militant group, Flynn’s car was firebombed and his family received death threats.

I followed the lives of those major figures when I moved to Seattle in the 90s. It continued when I returned east to attend the MFA program at Columbia University in New York City. In my thesis workshop, I sketched a narrative landscape that would become my first novel—The Chieftains of South Boston.

Pulling From Many Sources of Boston History

After coming up with a general plot structure, I began the heavy research. Next to the building that housed Columbia’s Graduate School of the Arts was the School of Journalism. My ID gave me access to their library and its LexisNexis research system. I dug up every detail I could about historical events during the 70s and 80s. After printing stacks of pages, I highlighted, hole-punched and organized them into 3-ring binders.

I did the same with newspaper stories available on microfilm at the New York Public Library in Midtown Manhattan, and later at the State House Library in Boston.

In addition, I pored over several books, including the following.
Common Ground
The Boston Irish: A Political History
The Rascal King: The Life and Times of James Michael Curley
South Boston: My Home Town
Black Mass
All Souls: A Family Story From Southie
Valhalla’s Wake
The Brothers Bulger
While the Music Lasts: My Life in Politics
The Bulger Mystique
How the Irish Became White

Some of the scenes were informed by the memories of people in my family, like my dad. He once told me about the time in his his teens when he worked at the Boston Public Library. Cardinal O’Connell would stop by occasionally. According to my dad, O’Connell would be dressed in formal ceremonial garb with purple robes flowing, and he would stride through the place as if on parade.

That was in contrast to Cardinal Cushing, who succeeded O’Connell. Cushing was much preferred by Boston’s working class community. They considered him the salt of the earth in contrast to O’Connell, who was caught up in the trappings of his office. I found a couple of places to slip those figures into the novel.

The Bulger Brothers as Inspiration

I pulled other relevant piece of Boston history into the narrative, and every major Boston player. Beyond the Bulger brothers and other South Boston players, there were leading figures across the city. Among them were the Angiulos, who ran the Italian Mafia out of the North End. Also John Connolly, Whitey’s childhood friend and handler at the Boston FBI field office. And politicians like Ray Flynn, mayor of Boston and Billy Bulger’s sometimes ally, sometimes opponent. They competed for the title of South Boston’s most influential leader.

The Bulger Brothers: Billy Ran the State House, Whitey Ran the Irish Mafia
The Bulger Brothers: Billy Bulger Ruled the State House— Whitey Bulger Ruled the Irish Mafia

Certain historical events were easily adapted to the Jimmy Mahoney character. There was Billy Bulger’s unexpected rise to Senate president, his press-conference-turned-debate with Mayor Raymond Flynn in front of the State House, and the way Bulger twisted the arm of Governor Dukakis, who was running for the White House, to end Boston’s garbage disposal crisis on terms favorable to Bulger.

I did the same when building the character of Francis Mahoney. I pulled in details and plot lines from the world of Whitey. One was the triangle trade of drug dealing and the shipping of arms to the IRA. Then there were the various murders attributed to Whitey, his complicated relationships with the Italian Mafia and the FBI, and the destruction of lives in South Boston when Whitey unleashed a flood of drugs into the neighborhood, all the while pretending to be its protector.

My Personal Boston History

My first-hand experiences enter into the story in different places, like witnessing the chaos and racial strife of school desegregation, and attending games and concerts at Boston Garden. There’s also the character Buzzy Driscoll, who earns a living as a Boston cab driver. Those details are drawn directly from my time behind the wheel.

Then there were occasional visits to South Boston itself. In one scene, Matthew Mahoney recalls watching the Saint Patrick’s Day parade from the roof of Flanagan’s Supermarket on Broadway. That was what I did at the age of fourteen with a handful of buddies. We shimmied up a pole at the back of the building, then watched the parade from our comfortable perch.

A photo of the front Flanagan's Supermarket on East Broadway in South Boston from back in the 90s.
Flanagan’s Supermarket on East Broadway in South Boston back in the 90s.

There are plenty of other places in the novel where my memories inform the book—too many to list, really. Overlaying those details is my intimate knowledge of the Irish American working class culture in that particular place, during that particular time.

I finished The Chieftains of South Boston fifteen years ago. When I look back at the details of the story now, it’s not always easy for me to distinguish between the actual history of the place and my fictional rendering of it.

The Wrong Color

It was back in the’80s when I drove a taxi in Boston for a short time. I worked for someone who owned three cabs, and I would show up for my evening shift at a parking lot next to City Hospital in the South End. There were two other guys, Ed and Tommy, whose shifts started at 4 p.m. We’d usually stand around bullshitting while waiting for the day drivers to return with our cabs.

“So did your cousin get that job with the T?” Ed asked one day.

“No,” Tommy said. “He was the wrong color.”

The bleak parking lot where I heard the discussion about The Wrong Color.

A 2007 Google Street View of the parking lot where drivers exchanged cabs.

The three of us were White, and we all knew what being the wrong color meant in that context. Tommy was blaming the MBTA’s hiring guidelines for his cousin, who was also White, for not getting the job. In Tommy’s eyes, the job his cousin deserved to get was instead given to a person of color.

Affirmative Action and the White Community

The MBTA had recently implemented a diversity policy. It dictated a certain percentage of jobs should go to women and people of color. It was referred to as affirmative action. The term was thrown around a lot back in the ’70s and ’80s, and almost never in a positive way among the White people I knew. Even organized labor fought against the change, as detailed in this legal case.

An MBTA affirmative action case involving women and people of color.

The way Tommy saw it, his cousin would have gotten the job if the old system of hiring for government jobs hadn’t been changed. Part of that old system was patronage. If you were the one looking for work, you’d turn to a friend for help. It might be a cousin or neighbor whose sister or uncle worked in some agency like the MBTA or the DMV.

They’d put in a good word for you, with maybe a case of beer, tickets to a Bruins game or a certain sum of cash thrown in. Then, a week or two later a letter shows up congratulating you on your new position. There might be proficiency tests that you’d have to pass, a union to join and a background check that had to come back clean. But once those were taken care of, someone putting in a good word and a gift could seal the deal.

The History of My People in Boston and Patronage

When I wrote The Chieftains of South Boston, I included the history of how Irish immigrants in Boston were discriminated against by the Protestant Yankee elites. They controlled government at every level. It took generations for the Irish to wrest control of power. When they did, they made sure to take care of their own when it came to patronage. It happened at agencies like the police department, fire department, city hall, the state house and so on. “To the victor go the spoils” applies to the worlds of war and politics.

Taking care of their own meant helping not only fellow Irish Americans but other people considered White back then. In my community, that included all kinds of hyphenated Americans, but it did not include the Black community. It also didn’t include women. Irish American culture at that time was heavily influenced by the Catholic Church, an organization that has always struggled with the concept of gender equality.

The Cost of Ignoring History

When a group maintains such systematic control over government institutions for three or four generations, it’s easy for those people to develop a sense of ownership and entitlement, while also being blind to it. The Black community in Boston has never achieved anything close to the institutional power enjoyed by their White neighbors.

I can remember a time back in the ’70s when my reaction to affirmative action was similar to Tommy’s. It didn’t seem fair. I felt like I could be be penalized when applying for a job because of my skin color. It was the feeling of being cheated because I was White.

At the time, I was oblivious to my own people’s history and how it put me in a place that made life a whole lot easier than it was for many others. Learning the history changed everything for me, although it didn’t happen overnight. It took years.

Remembering Kevin White

Kevin White — Boston Mayor 1968–1984
Michael Grecco/BOSTON HERALD — Boston Mayor Kevin White with a revitalized Quincy Market as a backdrop.

Kevin White 1929–2012

I first learned of Kevin White when the Bruins won the Stanley Cup. If you grew up in my Dorchester neighborhood, you loved hockey and you loved the Boston Bruins. My friends and I watched every game. The next morning at school, we’d critique all the key plays.

Did Gerry Cheevers earn a new scar for his goalie mask? Did Pie McKenzie win that last fight? Maybe Bobby Orr gave us another miracle by starting from behind his own net and skating up ice eluding, outmaneuvering and embarrassing every player on the other team, including their goalie, who would be the last man to bow to Orr’s grace and talent.

Bobby Orr and the Boston Bruins Won the 1972 Stanley Cup
Bobby Orr Holding the Stanley Cup in 1972

Winning the Stanley Cup

When the Bruins won the Stanley Cup in 1972, my friends and I piled into the back of a neighbor’s pickup truck and headed to City Hall Plaza to celebrate with 20,000 other fans. It was the only time my Dad ever gave me permission to play hookie. He was the business manager of the Boston school department and took education seriously. But he loved the Bruins too, so he understood when an exception should be made.

From the plaza that day, I may have seen Mayor Kevin White on the city hall balcony where a drunk Wayne Cashman was pulling off his socks and tossing them to a cheering crowd. After the celebration, I definitely saw a mark that Kevin White would leave on the city of Boston.

The City of Boston Celebrates the Bruins Winning the 1972 Stanley Cup
Celebrating the Bruin’s Victory in Downtown Boston

We had parked the pickup truck in the old Quincy Market. In 1972, it was still a dirty, smelly, unglamorous place where trucks unloaded meat, fruits and vegetables. In the next few years, the area would undergo a dramatic transformation. The makeover of Quincy Market brought in the charming cafes, shops and restaurants we all know today. Downtown Boston was turned into into a public space envied by other cities. It was all part of Mayor White’s vision for a new Boston.

Mayor Kevin White Turned Quincy Market into a Public Square
Quincy Market — It’s Come a Long Way Since It Was Built in 1742.

Making Boston a World Class City

On the way to turning Boston into a world-class city though, Kevin White had to deal with the busing conflict brought on by the Boston School Committee. Because committee members were elected, rather than being controlled by the mayor, White was in for a decade of frustration.

As I read various stories online this morning, I wanted to know where Kevin White grew up—his neighborhood. Back in the seventies, Boston was a collage of neighborhoods, each with its own personality and interests. None of the articles listed White’s neighborhood though. (My best guess would be West Roxbury.)

That lack of attachment to a specific area might have been one of Kevin White’s greatest assets in dealing with the busing crisis. Had he been from a neighborhood like Dorchester, Charlestown or South Boston, he would have been under tremendous pressure to fight against desegregation rather than make it work as best he could under difficult circumstances.

Kevin White and Desegregation

That’s not to say the he had an easy time. In an earlier post, I wrote about how threatened he felt by Whitey Bulger and his brother Billy. People in my Dorchester neighborhood and in South Boston truly hated the man, referring to him as “Mayor Black.” Because desegregation was enforced by the Boston Police department, cops became hated as well.

The annual St. Patrick's Day parade down Broadway in South Boston.
St Patrick’s Day Parade on Broadway in South Boston

On the St. Patrick’s Day after busing began, my friends and I watched the annual parade from the rooftop of Flanagan’s Market on Broadway in South Boston. I remember seeing a Boston cop lose control of his motorcycle. As it spun across the road, people applauded and cheered. The cop was OK, but he was screamed at and insulted from all sides until he managed to right his big Harley and ride it away.

As kids, we didn’t really understand the historic shift that was occurring and how Boston would never be the same after desegregation. Nor did we imagine what it must have been like for Kevin White to wake up every morning during those years and worry where the violence would erupt. And whether it would finally grow beyond the ability of the police to control it. We were kids. We cared about the Boston Bruins and Bobby Orr’s failing knees.

The Boston Globe has a pretty nice Kevin White photo remembrance here.

Whitey Bulger and More…

Whitey Bulger Shipping Arms the IRA

How Whitey Bulger Terrified Mayor Kevin White

How Whitey Bulger Beat the State Police

Whitey Bulger and Billy Bulger: South Boston Brothers

Boston and Its Busing Problem — An Irish Family Feud