A Learning Curve

I have more fun following irrelevant stories than doing family research.  The style of 19th century journalism is beyond amusing, with the quaint language and old moral attitudes.  It does get a bit offensive at times.  While searching for 'Andrew Riley"  I found a story about a 19th century crap game on the Upper West Side of NYC.  Since all the defendants were Black, the writer treated it as a minstrel show skit, with such phrases as 'roll 'dem bones, brudder". 

Interesting to read what James and John Rileys were up to over 100 years ago.  The saddest story took place in Manhattan, in the middle of July.  James Riley, segar maker, had died, so his brother John came to NYC to attend the funeral.  The weather was hot, and poor John died of heat stroke. 

There was John Riley, who had shot a police officer in 1863--spent 20 years as a fugitive, only to be caught and extradited to NYC.  The surviving witnesses had a hard time identifying him because John had lost all his curly brown hair.  I wonder if the prosecutor got a conviction?

I did find a story in the Brooklyn Eagle about my Grandmother's Uncle Tom Riley, a police officer.  He was sent to arrest a trolley conductor who had left the scene of a fatal accident.  Mom said she recalled that Uncle Tom was a solid, strong looking man, even in his late sixties. 

Dinner is ready: must dine with the Aged Parent.