Ed's Biography

Ed's birth certificate.   The occupation of his father should be "Department Manager" (not "Apartment Manager").   His mother, Alice,  last name is spelled differently ("MacLatchy") -- which is different from earlier family records, which has the spelling as "McLatchy."    Apparently, Samuel Harris MacLatchy, and his descendants, preferred the "MacLatchy" spelling over "McLatchy."    Why Samuel used a different spelling than did his father is unknown.

My father named me Edmund because he thought highly of a Stanford professor by that name. I don't know why he looked upon him with such respect -- my father was not a Stanford man. In fact, my father never went to college. Where the middle name Oscar came from was my uncle. My mother's brother was named Oscar so I guess the middle name came from Uncle Oscar.

1911   Alice, with Edmund.  San Francisco

1912   Emma, with Edmund and his brother, Charles, on Emma's porch at 213 54th St, Oakland, CA.

1913   Ed (on right) with his brother Charles.

One of my first recollections is of our rental house on Irving St. in the Sunset district of San Francisco. One of  the things that come to mind is that there was a fire station around the corner from the place. And in those days they still used horses and had steam boilers for the pumpers. These fire engine's would go rumbling down our street, pulled by horses. Smoke and flames shot up from the boiler, which produced the steam that ran the water pumps. In those days, automobiles were something of a rarity, but horse and wagons were very common.

1914  Ed, lower right, with his father, brother Charles, and sister, Jean.

With their mother, Alice.

From right to left:  Ed, Ed's father Charles, Ed's brother Charles, Ed's paternal grandmother, Emma,  Ed's father's sister Carabelle and her son Jack. 

A photo in Emma's photo album.  Ed's sister, Jean, says that the photo includes Alice (Ed's mother), Emma,
and Emma's daughter, Carabella.  The train to Mt. Tamalpais.

1916

1917    Ed, Charles, and Jean.

Charles, Ed, Charles.  Circa 1918.

Me and my brother Charles once convinced our sister Jean that her doll had died because its eyes were closed. She cried and we buried it in the backyard with much ceremony.

Ed's father Charles,  Ed's sister Jean.  Circa 1918.          Jean and  Emma, circa 1919.

We took the ferry over to Oakland to see grandmother Emma. Grandmother was big, hardy, gracious, very hospitable, and loving. My father must have looked like his father, because he was rather lean, whereas grandmother was a big busted, jovial, big woman. She sort of kept the family together after my father died. She was the only blood relation we had in the area, since we never knew my mother's parents.

One of my earliest recollections of automobiles is that they were very noisy. At intersections there were no stop signs or stop lights -- everything was based on of right-of-way. The automobile coming from the right had the right-of-way. There were often accidents at intersections.

Ed's sister, Jean.

1920                 Home at 563 19th Ave, San Francisco

We moved to 19th Avenue when I was in grammar school -- I was about 8 or 9 years old.
I frequently caught poison oak during the summers and would end up with a puffy, scrubby yellow face.

Location of 563 19th Ave, San Francisco.

Circa 1921.  Alice, in center (head turned to the right).   Charles, upper left.  Ed, upper right (next to his first love, Margaret).

1921

I frequently brought home stray cats and dogs.

1921

1924

Radio first came in when I was living on 19th Avenue. Back then we called them "crystal sets" -- you listened with an ear plug. The first sets were not powered by electricity, so when the first electrified radios with tubes became available it was a great breakthrough. We used to listen to radio programs the same way that we watch television programs today -- especially football games.  Or we would listened to the Jack Benny program. When television came in, my friend Gillespie was working for Packard Bell, so he always got us a good deal on a television set.

In school I mostly liked science courses. I didn't go out much for athletics because I had asthma,  so I played saxophone in the marching band.  I was mostly a 'B' student.

1925   Upper row,  Ed on right, his friend George Gillespie on the left.

Sutro Baths, where Ed, his brother and sister, and their friends swam.   Below is a letter written by his sister Jean reminding Ed about the hot and cold tanks at the Sutro Baths.

My father and mother separated in my early teens. My mother was the exact opposite of him. He was more of an urbanite -- whereas her background was very rural, with a very strict upbringing. In later years she was very suspicious of people -- including my father.  She was very domineering and suspicious, and she had a difficult time making friends. I remember my father once arranged for them to take dancing lessons. I think this was an effort on his part to make her more social. It never seemed to work. My mother was insanely jealous when my father danced with other women, even though that was a part of learning how to dance. She would go into these jealous tizzies, completely groundless, and I think that is one reason for the separation.

I could see how it could be that he was not too happy about the way things were going. Especially when he was an up and coming, successful businessman, clawing his way into a successful situation, after previously having been just a clerk in a large organization. I could see where Mama didn't fit into that picture at all.

After my parents' separation, my father supported us in the house on 19th Avenue, and maintained an apartment of his own somewhere else. I never went to his apartment. And when he died it became apparent that he had paid for the house on 19th Avenue -- there was no mortgage outstanding. He would get a new car every year and pay cash for it. He had his heart set on Hudsons because in those days they were reliable highway cars.

My father kept in touch with us kids fairly regularly. He would come over, but wouldn't stay at the house because of the strained atmosphere. He would take us to a restaurant in downtown San Francisco. He was a very intelligent, clean cut, caring, considerate individual. After he died there wasn't a lot of money around, and if it wasn't for the fact that my father had paid off the mortgage, we would have been in real financial trouble.

My father would sometimes take me on a business trip with him to Turlock, and drop me off at Aunt Lilly's. Aunt Lilly was a strict vegetarian, and a devout Seventh Day Adventist. She was one of those types that would extend her religion to anyone that was inside of her door. By that time I was developing doubts about the existence of  the Allmighty, so I wasn't very popular with Aunt Lilly. At that time she was a dried up old spinster without any social graces.

Area of San Francisco where Ed grew up (as the area looked later, in 1964).

Newspaper story about the death of Ed's father.

High school glee club.  To right, Ed's brother, Charles ("Chile").

My brother had a really tough time. He was a tall, gawky, pimply-faced guy, anti-social type guy. He never seemed to be able to relate to people very well that weren't his close friends. So, during the Depression, he could never get a job. Norb's father finally got him a job in his shade making factory. He never got into a line of business that he was interested in. It was always a "make do" situation. He probably didn't make a very favorable appearance when he interviewed for a job.

We got along all right. He was bigger than I, and stronger than I. It wasn't a real buddy-buddy situation but we always got along. At that time taking care of  Mama was important and he fit into that situation very well. He did his share. What would have happened to him if he had survived the war has always been a very interesting question in my mind.

Since he wasn't particularly good-looking, and he always had a tough time with women. He didn't socialize as we did with girls as we were growing up. It was his appearance, and he had a rather brusk attitude, so he didn't attract the fair sex. But he was a good citizen.

After my father died, going to college was out of the question.    Had he lived, I definitely would have gone to college.

1928   High school portrait.                     Circa 1930

I was working for Zurick insurance company in downtown San Francisco on Montgomery Street when the stock market crashed in 1929. It was a great place to be working because at least I had a job, while the stockbrokers and executives were jumping out of windows. You would be sure would walk down the middle of the street to avoid being hit by a suicidal stockbroker.

I ended up in the insurance business by pure coincidence -- as a mail-boy in an entry-level position. If you had any interest in advancement at all you went to night school then. I constantly went to night school, taking U.C. Extension courses in specialized areas of insurance. I was  never out of a job during the Great Depression. My level was such that they had to have someone deliver the mail and they didn't pay you much so they had to keep you on.

In 1928 I grew a beard -- I was surprised that it grew out red.

1930

Above article is from Ed's sister Jean's high school yearbook.

1930   At Sears Lake.     With new car.

I vividly remember my first automobile, it was a Model T Ford. I bought it for 25 dollars. We worked on it all the time. We took it apart, and we put back together. Automobiles back then needed a lot of maintenance. Our crowning achievement I think was to stuff 15 guys in it at one time.

1930   Surfing.    George Gillespie, Norb, and Ed.

I've had a few close calls.  When I was a teenager I was with some buddies body surfing in waves that were dangerously large.  I got held under so long by a large breaker that I lost consciousness.  Fortunately, my buddies saw I was in trouble and they pulled me out.  Another close call came when I was travelling with my basketball team to a game in Modesto.   On the way home, we were clipped by another car at an intersection, and our car rolled over several times.  I was knocked unconscious, but, the car was so packed with big guys that we cushioned each other, and no one was seriously injured.

Inter Backyard Railway System rules, 1927.

My brother and I ran around with some other kids on the block -- we   called ourselves the "19th Street gang." It was Norb, me and Chilie, George Gillespie, and Bob Nichols. Gillespie was the leader with an extroverted personality. One of the early interests of the gang was building a backyard railroad system across several  neighbor's backyards. We used to take trips together to go camping or rafting on the Russian River. And chasing girls was always part of the act.

1931   Ed, Bob Nichols, George Gillespie, Norb Graves, Charles ("Chillie" -- Ed's brother).  The members of the "19th Street Gang."

1932   On left, with girlfriend Ann DeCourtoini

Jean, Ed's sister.  From her high school yearbook.

Ed's sister, Jean.  Circa 1933.                                      

During the Depression, my sister Jean worked as a clerk for an insurance company. While we were growing up we got along all right, but we didn't have  the same circle of friends. And we didn't have similar interest in terms of entertainment or as far as socializing is concerned. She always did her share  of the "taking care of Mama" problem. In fact she did the lions share of work as time went by.

Dorothy Bass, Ed's first wife.

In 1933 I married Dorothy Bass in San Francisco.  She had been a switchboard operator at the Zurick Insurance Company where I worked.  One of the ways of getting to know someone of the opposite sex was spending so much time with them at work.  We hit it off very good.  She was a cute little gal, short, diminuitive, baby-talkish.  We had an apartment down in the Marina District.  

That same year I swam across the Golden gate  from Fort Point to Sauselito, as a member of the Dolphin Swimming Club.  This is approximately where the Golden Gate Bridge is today -- it was constructed later, in 1937.

Helen Gillespie recalled a weekend in 1936 when Jean, Ed and Dorothy, and she and George Gillespie drove to the Russian River in George's car. That evening they  were camping in a field. The owner of the farm came along and awakened the campers. Ed and George managed to convince the farmer to let them spend the night there because they couldn't afford a motel.

The marriage to Dorothy lasted only about two years.   We were too young, too early, too young, no common interests, no kids.  Entertainment became a problem because we didn't have any extra money.  Also, we didn't really have any friends in common.  And, after a while, you get tired of looking at each other.   So we tossed in the sponge and went back into the open field.

1935  Ed can't recall the name of the woman he was dating at the time.

1935

Ed's paternal grandmother, Emma (nicknamed "Nana") in 1938.

Notice of the death of Emma's daughter (Ed's father Charles' sister),   Carrabelle Walsh (nee Mills) in 1938.

1941   Chillie, Jean, Ed.  Jean's wedding.

I moved to Los Angeles in 1939 to take a job with the California State Insurance Fund. I lived in a boarding house for a dollar a day in the Westmoreland area of Los Angeles.

My sister followed after me, and then Mama followed us down here. My sister was largely instrumental in seeing to it that my mother was taken care of. Those years were basically my sister's responsibility because she got along with Mama a hell of a lot better than I did. Mama could see that I was going more the route of Daddy than Mama.

Jean married Charles Wayne Wilson on June 15th, 1941. I recall that I used to go with them to take dance lessons at the Presbyterian Church on Wilshire Boulevard.

1941    Avalon, Catalina.  With girlfriend Mae Copenhaver.  Note the historic Wrigley mansion in the upper right.

1941  Chillie, Norb, George, Ed.   The former members of the  "19th Street. Gang."  In a short time, they all would be in the armed forces during WW II.

To continue, click here.