Catherine L. Walach

Catherine L. Walach died on February 5th, just days shy of her 104th birthday. She died while being cared for by her family in the home where she had resided since 1950. She was married to the late Matthew Walach for 54 years. She is survived by four of her five children: Stephen Walach and his wife Helen; Patricia Walach Keough and her husband David; Kathleen Walach and her husband John Hammond; Ellen Pereira and her husband Michael Pereira. She is predeceased by her son James. She is also predeceased by her oldest sister Mary Chaput; sisters Helen, Kasia; and brother Theodor Somek. She has five grandchildren: Brendan and wife Katie Keough; Owen Keough and wife Leilani Alvarez; Adam and fiancé Emma Corwin; Joseph Pereira; and Michael Hammond. Catherine also has four great grandchildren: Olin, Ronan, Dalia and Colin Keough.

Catherine was born at home in Central Falls with the help of a midwife in 1920, when the great flu pandemic of 1918 - 1919 was still claiming lives. In 1918, the family lost a young son Theodor and daughter Kasia to the flu. It’s not hard to imagine the trepidation that accompanied Catherine’s birth. Nevertheless, Catherine achieved a longevity few of us can hardly dream of, surviving the two most deadly pandemics of the past 100 years. Once as an infant and then again as a centenarian.

Her parents were native Ukrainians but settled in a largely Polish enclave. Catherine grew up speaking Polish, which she mastered by the time she entered elementary school, only to find that English was the chosen language. Catherine was an adept learner and she adapted beautifully. She also retained her Polish throughout her long life, teaching it to her oldest child, whose precision with its vocabulary and grammar at the age of two generated high praise for Catherine among her contemporaries. 

She was a top student, but at age 17 Catherine was compelled to leave Centrals Falls High in 1937 during the depths of the Great Depression. Catherine joined her older sister Mary to work in a textile mill to support her mother, her ailing father, and 10 year old sister. Although the federal minimum wage in 1937 was only 25 cents / hour, she earned enough money to keep the family afloat. Catherine also managed to save enough before the birth of her first child so that she and Matt could put a fifty percent down payment on a small bungalow in nearby Pawtucket in 1950, thereby lowering their monthly mortgage payments considerably. She never mentioned –– let alone bragged about –– her substantial contribution, and it was only after much research that we discovered results of her steadfast work ethic and significant earning power.

The mother of five –– and all that entailed, Catherine was by today’s definition a stay-at-home-mom, but that term was never used because our entire Walcott St. neighborhood abounded with large families led by mothers whose primary –– and often sole –– responsibility was their children. There were many years when Catherine’s children walked home for a hot lunch (no microwaving), and then back down Walcott St. to St. Joseph School for afternoon classes.

Those were the days when mothers of Walcott St. lined the street to flag down speeding cars whose drivers did not know –– or care –– that the neighborhood was the playground for dozens of free-range children. They lobbied the local ice cream truck to silence its bell when infants and toddlers were taking their afternoon naps. Catherine and her peers comprised a small village of determined, self-reliant women who banded together for the safety and well being of their children.

Having given birth to five children within a span of ten years, Catherine’s Walcott St. home and ample backyard resounded with the irrepressible energy of her and her neighbors’ growing children. Catherine’s third child, James, was born with Downs Syndrome –– a condition for which the larger community had no viable support systems in place even though under the leadership of Representative John E. Fogarty Rhode Island was the first state to introduce legislation for the cause.  Catherine’s world had been rocked but she endured the added stress, not only caring for James and her two other children, but in a tremendous act of faith also giving birth to two more –– Kathleen and Ellen.

An expanding family meant more meals, laundry, dishes … and diapers.  In the early fifties, Catherine had a washing machine but not one with a spin cycle.  Wet clothes were squeezed by hand through rollers, and that was the extent of it. Hard to imagine now but even in a thriving and inventive post WW2 economy, Catherine washed diapers by hand. No diaper service for her and no synthetic throwaways to send off to a landfill.  Her hands often bore the effects of caustic wash water.  By the end of the 1950’s, Catherine had a washer with a decent spin cycle, but no dryer: That’s what clotheslines and fresh air were for.

A child of the Great Depression, Catherine was cost conscious and self reliant. She managed the household budget and did much of the repairs on her own, refinishing furniture and altering hand-me-downs. The family never saw itself as poor, but our middle-class status was partly due to Catherine’s hard work and ingenuity.

As her children advanced through school, Catherine’s role as mother shifted to counselor and planner.  She became a den mother for a pack of a dozen or so Cub Scouts. Five kids? No problem. Let’s add 12 more on Saturday mornings. When her youngest daughters enrolled in graduate schools in Boston, Catherine went back to work, walking once again to a factory to earn enough to cover much of their living expenses.  As grandchildren entered her life, Catherine traveled by car, train and plane to help her daughters with the newborns. It was a new role but one she was perfectly prepared for and joyfully took on.

In their retirement Catherine and Matt traveled a bit, but mostly within Rhode Island accompanied by neighbors or to visit children and grandchildren who were spread far and wide. The neighborhood that had been so child-friendly continued to be an oasis for their parents –– active 60 and 70 year olds who found a relaxed joy and comfort among their peers. Catherine joined other moms for warm weather gatherings hosted by Mae Britt. The Great Blizzard of ‘78 virtually sealed the neighborhood from the outside world, but it became an opportunity for nightly gatherings at homes just a few paces away. Catherine had fond memories of those times.The neighborhood that had nurtured so many children was also a safe and compassionate place for the aging parents who raised them.

In her early eighties, Catherine lost her cherished husband Matt. Her first year as a widow was a difficult one. However, next-door neighbor Ann Toole provided rides to the supermarket and church.  Other neighbors, Barbara Farnworth and Jane Jeffrey, extended their friendship and compassion across the backyard fence.  Soon, Stephen and Helen relocated to Pawtucket and were there to assist Catherine with the day-to-day.  Nevertheless, Catherine insisted on walking by herself one-half mile to the meat market on Armistice Boulevard. and to the various shops on the corner of Armistice and York well into her late eighties. In her early eighties she helped shovel during one of our traditional February blizzards. Having dug themselves out of ‘78’s four foot monster, the two-foot challenge was too tempting to pass up.

In April 2019, Catherine suffered a broken hip on Holy Thursday. She had the operation on Good Friday, and took her first steps on Easter Sunday. Catherine required more care after the fall, but she soldiered on. At age 102 and 11 months, she completed the daily Projo crossword puzzle without any assistance and in perfect penmanship. Unfortunately, dementia claimed more of her cognition and memory but she continued nailing crosswords puzzles on a call-and-response basis with friend Cathy Cavanaugh. For the last year and a half of her life, Catherine was entirely bed bound. However, her will to live remained strong. She did not want to die and go to heaven, and she was quite explicit about it: “I want to live.” Endurance and perseverance were her forte.

Much of her final years were spent in prayer –– mostly self-generated, and in genuine gratitude for all those who tended to her every need.   Inevitably her beleaguered body surrendered and Catherine was no more. Her spirit finally winging its journey homeward.

Twenty-one gun salutes are reserved for individuals who serve and protect, like heads of state. But what of the mothers who not only serve and protect; but also nurture and comfort; teach and guide; bring children into the world and see to it that those young souls flourish? Catherine was first and foremost of that latter group. Her vocation was to care for and remain near to those closest to her –– family and neighbors.

As far as we know, Catherine’s passing tolls the final bell for the mothers of that neighborhood. Her life and this remembrance of her is in part a tribute to neighborhood mom’s from that era and their families as well:  Mae Britt; Fran Dalton ; Margaret Albright ; Fran Campbell; Mae Gill; Alice Campbell; Vivian Anderson; Betty Runden ; Muriel Keenan; Barbara Farnworth; Jane Jeffrey; Rita Hosey; Ruth Burgess; Mary Lindley; Mae Toole; Genevieve Gross; Lenora Miniati; Claire Hart and Mary Crompton.

Funeral and burial were private. Visiting hours respectfully omitted.

In lieu of flowers, donations can be made to the John E. Fogarty Center: 220 Woonasquatucket Ave, North Providence, RI 02911. Attn: Robyn.

the angels are laughing in glee

because they have 

no more work

to do