Whenever I see the name “Cal,” I mainly think of four things. Calvin “Cal” Freeman is my brother-in-law. He lives in Kansas, and we visit him as often as we can. He’s a gearhead like me and has been a big help over the years in car and truck projects. Cal is close to retirement, so he should have plenty of time to finish his own rides.
Cal Sheehy is the mayor of Lake Havasu City, Arizona, and I’ve met him on several occasions. If Cal were to remember me for anything, it would be that I always remind him to have the police enforce our covered-load law. I’m not even sure we have such a law, but I remind him just the same.
Cal Worthington owned car dealerships in Southern California and Alaska. I never met him personally, yet I bumped into him a couple of times in restaurants. I always remember Cal Worthington as tall, wearing a white cowboy hat, with an attractive younger woman at his side. The late businessman’s advertising jingle, “Go see Cal,” is permanently etched into my brain.
Cal is also the nickname for California. I have a brother who lives there along with a sister-in-law and her husband. Cal (California) carries a negative stigma, largely due to corrupt government officials. I won’t go there because it’d take three newspaper pages to totally describe my feelings.
There are several other people in history named Cal, and I’ll touch lightly upon them. Calvin “Cal” Coolidge was the 30th president of the United States. Cal Ripken Jr. was a famous baseball player with the Baltimore Orioles. Cal Hubbard was an NFL linebacker. These three I’ve never met. It would’ve been impossible to meet Cal Coolidge because he’s been pushing up daisies long before I was born.
What brings me to the name “Cal” is someone I stumbled upon from the past: Marie Sheehy. When I saw her name on a 1913 postcard mailed from Maricopa, Arizona, to Arkansas City, Kansas, it piqued my interest. First, everyone in Lake Havasu City knows the last name, Sheehy, or they should.
Arkansas City, Kansas, is a place I’ve been through, and I find the town name unusual. Marie Sheehy lived there for a short spell, although most of her years were spent in Lincoln, Nebraska. Is Marie Sheehy related to our Mayor Cal Sheehy? Only he can answer that for sure.
On the back of that 1913 picture postcard is a message from Marie’s friend, Vera King. It reads:
“Dearie – Monday – Am leaving Phoenix in the A.M. and expect to be in Los Angeles Wednesday A.M. Will drop you a card as soon as I get there. Don’t you wish you were with me? In another month or so I shall be on my way home I think. Lovingly, Vera.”
The picture on the front of the postcard shows an early-1900s touring car rolling past a giant saguaro cactus on the Apache Trail near the Superstition Mountains. It stands to reason that Vera could’ve been traveling by automobile from Phoenix to LA.
Marie was born on September 2, 1896. She had two brothers, Edward and Harold. The four sisters were Cecil, Nellie, Minnie, and Pearl. The children’s parents were Edward and Rectta, who were farmers. Photos of Marie show her to be an extremely attractive young lady.
Raised in Catholic schools, Marie traveled extensively after graduation, according to brief newspaper accounts of her excursions. She had relatives in Arkansas City, so that’s why she visited there and eventually stayed for a short spell.
Most interesting to me was why Marie Sheehy never married. That question was answered when I found that she had joined the convent of the Order of Servants of the Holy Ghost in Techny, Illinois. In other words, Marie became a nun.
Marie died at the age of 83 on July 12, 1980. She’s buried in Lincoln, Nebraska, alongside her sister, Minnie. If Mayor Cal Sheehy is related to Marie, I have that old picture postcard. It’s his for the asking.
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