Grandpa and Nana (Boullet)
...but mostly Nana
Rev. 12/1/22

Before reading this, be sure to checkout the backgrounds of both Rene and Ellen: the Boullet/Melchior Tree (Grandpa) and the Palmer/English Tree (Nana).


Nana spoke her mind like she had no choice in the matter. And Grandpa played her straight man perfectly. Nana had an obsessive commitment to the Catholic church. I'm pretty sure I never saw him in a church. They bickered over almost anything. I think it was a game they played for the amusement of onlookers, hoping that they would take sides and join in the fun. She would glance around at the spectators and giggle when she would get a rise out of Gramps. There was no doubt that they loved each other.

Mr. and Mrs. Boullet

No one who's now alive knows for sure how they met. We do know that they met when they were young teenagers in or around Niles, Ca. near Mission San Jose. If you have read each of their backgrounds, you know how they happened to be there at that time.

One thing is almost certainly true: Rene's Mom (Anna Melchior) never liked Ellen, at least that's what Ellen thought. I would guess that Anna thought that her only boy could do better than an orphan girl like Ellen. Nevertheless, they became engaged in 1922 when they were both 18 yrs old. Here is a picture of the announcement of their engagement party, beautifully preserved for 100 yrs. by our Aunt Ellen and given to me in 2021:

For some reason, they waited 4 years to marry, perhaps due to Anna's relentless pull. Nevertheless, they were married in 1926. They were both 21, but she was a couple of months older. Here is the wedding announcement on June 26, 1926 in the Oakland Tribune pg 19.

Ellen Palmer and Rene Boullet

Circa 1926 - the year they were married

Shortly thereafter, they relocated to Valencia St. in SF. according to a city directory. Then the 1930 Federal Census shows that they rented a home at 631 Vienna St. in the Epiphany neighborhood where we grew up. Ellen's sister Louise lived with them. Rene worked as a shipping clerk in a grocery store and Ellen in the printing business. Louise worked as a telephone operator. Mom was born just after the census.

1930  Census

And here's the place:

Grandpa, Rene Westley Boullet (Grandpa's Uncle Rene), and Nana?

Circa 1932


The 1940 Census (below) shows that the young couple, now 35 years old, have completed their family: Irene 1930, Rene Joseph Jr. 1935, Barbara Arlene (Topper) 1937, Ellen Annamae (McCurdy) 1939. To accommodate the larger family, they moved to a slightly bigger place on Florentine St.  

It also shows that Rene completed his second year of high school, while Ellen completed only the 8th grade, at least by 1940.

No doubt, there were lots of interesting child-raising stories in the Boullet household over the following years. 

Easter 1937

Shortly after this time, there's a story that's told that Ellen, pregnant with Barbara, was bedridden for a long time. Although she wasn't a staunch Catholic at the time, she pleaded with God to deliver her from her grave illness. Apparently she recovered and as a result, she had unwavering faith until the day she died. She made a regular pilgrimage to Lourdes, France, where the Virgin Mary appeared to St. Beatrice. She did a LOT of traveling to many locations, usually by herself. I heard that Rene was invited, but opted to stay home.

Around the time when Irene was 10 (1940 - the start of WW2) she took a trip east with Etta, her aunt or family friend. Rene wrote her 2 detailed letters which she kept the rest of her life. Check them out, and all photos of Mom's early years, at Mom's webpage.

Around 1952, when Aunt Ellen was graduating from High School, Ellen Sr. (Nana) apparently graduated HS at the same time. The only evidence is this picture:

You gotta squint, but I'm pretty sure it says, "Presentation High School"

Every Christmas there was a gathering at the Boulett's house on Florentine with an assortment of familiar characters. Here's a picture of one such gathering in 1954:


Gramps looks like he is chugging a bottle of vino...Classic!

Apart from the cursory captions above in Mom's unmistakable handwriting, here's a few more introductions:


By and by, all 4 of the Boullet kids were soon having their own kids, and Nana and Grandpa were very busy.

'Somebody please shoot me!'

- Grandpa



Grandpa died Feb. 7, 1962 at 58 yrs. right about when this picture was taken. I was about 8 yrs. old.

Here's his obituary:

I didn't know it then, but towards the end of his life, Mom would send one or more of us over there to 'keep him company' which was code for 'make sure he's still alive'. Apparently Glenn was the unlucky soul to be in the house when he had a heart attack.

I have few memories of 1-on-1 interactions with Grandpa, but I think of him every time one of my own grandkids says, "Hey Grandpa!"

One of my memories of him was when I went over to 'visit' him after school. He casually asked me what day it was. I confidently said, "Wednesday". He said, "I don't think so. I think it's Tuesday. In fact, I'll bet you a dime that it's Tuesday". I took the bet. He called Mom at Ju(niper)4-1093 (no idea how I remember that). She confirmed that it was, in fact, Wednesday. And so he coughed up a dime. Literally, because he was a smoker.

Somewhere along the line, Nana took in extra money by assembling award ribbons. I should say, she managed to circumvent child labor laws and get EVERYONE to help assemble ribbons. Ken is convinced that if we look around we may find a rivet machine and box of brass safety pins stuffed in a closet somewhere. I do believe Mom took this job over for extra cash, because I also remember doing them with the younger kids while watching TV.

I think ALL of the older Farrell boys have memories of going 'downtown' (San Francisco) with 'single' Nana to St. Boniface church to attend mass. At the time it was about a 30 minute ride on the 14 Mission bus, or a much quicker 'Jitney' ride, again straight down Mission, but with much fewer stops. Almost every trip would bring some other adventure after mass. Personally, my fondest memories were either a visit to Clinton's cafeteria or the Embassy theater where the intermission would feature "...the nightly attraction of Ten-O-Win". Kids were randomly (or so we thought) selected from the audience to spin the wheel. The lucky kid would then get a silver dollar put in each of their pockets. This would keep us in candy for about a month. Back then, Nana was good fun and completely FEARLESS!

And after a lifetime of being driven around town and taking public transportation, she decided at 60ish yrs. old, that it was time to learn to drive. Again, FEARLESS! She bought a brand new Dodge Dart and proceeded to play bumper cars with anyone dumb enough to get close to her. But to her credit, she would lend it to us kids who weren't much better drivers. Again, it didn't last long.

The blue Dodge Dart in the background on a trip north to Whitefish, Montana to visit Uncle Rene.

Seeing her son Rene Jr. here reminds me of how much he sounded like his dad, Rene Sr. when he talked to Nana. For example, when she would break out her camera, I can still see his glare (like in the above picture) and hear him saying, "Oh for Christ's sake Ma!" and she would respond like she would with her husband: with a giggle and proceed to continue snapping pictures. Only those on the inner circle, those whom she loved passionately, could get away with talking to her like that.

By way of introduction, around 1970 Nana married some guy named Ignatius...something. A picture follows next. He was a bit strange, but what a gamer he had to have been, stepping into that bunch!  I'm not sure who pulled the plug on the relationship, but I DO know, it didn't last long.

Around 1968ish, Nana moved to 201 Buena Vista, right down the street from St. Joseph's hospital where she and Mom did keypunch (entered data into their big machines). It was a gigantic house where she rented rooms to total strangers. Once again, she was FEARLESS! But what fun it was for us exploring the old Victorian.


201 Buena Vista Circa 1971

A few camera-shy characters here:

L-R: Mom, Jack, Ignatius (Iggy), Ken, his Dad Chuck, Frank (Aunt Marie's pervert husband), Next row at his feet, Aunt Marie, to her right, Aunt Barbara, then Sharon.

No doubt, Nana took the picture.

After the divorce between Mom and Dad in 1970, Nana's role in our little family changed. She made herself a whole lot more present and a whole lot LESS fun! If we were lucky, someone would give us fair warning as they spotted her walking up the street from Mission where she got off the bus. We would interpret the warning as 'Hit the Road' because as soon as she would get in the house, she would start ordering us to clean this up, or pick that up, and she didn't stop until she won and everyone was working. In her defense, we lived like pigs, so she was only trying to lighten Mom's load. Actually, Mom and Dad had given up trying to keep a clean house many years before as any sane adult would. And there was a big part of me that really would have enjoyed living in a nice, clean, normal home like my friends. But what ultimately came to my mind at that moment was, "WTF man? How come Mike (Dan, Glenn, etc.) and everyone else who was just there a minute ago doesn't have to clean up?" But did I say that? Oh HELL NO! Some of the younger ones didn't learn from their previous mistakes and blurted out that retort. And that little 4'10", 160lb, 67 yr. old dynamo would verbally attack and physically threaten them until they actually started cleaning. No Thanks! I'll just quietly disappear somewhere and stay under the radar. She was FEARLESS!

Another way in which she made her presence known to us post-divorce, was as the president of the Bill Farrell Anti-Fan club. Anytime she heard of one or more of us visiting Dad, she would unmercifully bombard us with her party-line rhetoric. On one occasion early on, Dennis and I just came back and naively announced that we had just visited with Dad. I think it was for one of our birthdays. The cake was immediately thrown in the garbage and we were threatened with exile if we were ever caught again conspiring with the enemy. Mom was nearby, not taking a stand either way. I don't know if or how much of the inside divorce details Mom shared with Nana, but something tells me that Nana was going fall solidly in Mom's camp either way. In my humble opinion, as one of the 10 innocent victims in the Farrell vs. Farrell war, it was NOT her, or Mom's, finest hours.

But, it didn't last long. At least, not for me. I left home in 1972, and when I returned, it was really only for special events. Nana moved to Seattle sometime between 1972 and 1976 when she was about 70 yrs. old. I know this because when I got out of the Air Force, myself and a friend rode our motorbikes across the country, making our first major stop in Seattle over the July 4, 1976 (Bicentenial) holiday.

Nana, cousin Tom, and myself (July 1972)

I think she moved to Seattle because her son Rene lived there, but she did have a penchant for meddling in her kids marriages, so Rene moved to Whitefish Montana shortly after that.

Nevertheless, Ricky tells a story about Mom dropping him and his 3 younger siblings off at her place in Seattle for about a month. Again, FEARLESS...YIKES! As usual, the Feral animals (pun intended) were yelling and fighting one evening, and so Nana intervened and told them that they were all going to confession the next day. They agreed on the condition that they go swimming after that. The following day, they all suited up and went to church, but there was a wedding in progress. So there they sat in the back of the church in their swimsuits, waiting for Nana to coral any priest who may happen by, and convince him to hear the kid's confessions. She finally did, and he did, and they did, and then they all went swimming as planned. I think that story does shed some light on this lady who was not only fearless, but relentless with her faith...among other things.

Nana continued to be a presence in our lives for the next 20 years or so, as we all got married and had kids. And we all got to see Nana enjoying herself at a party! And at the party, as we all soon learned, she LOVED to dance. Until then, I really didn't appreciate what it meant to 'lead' or 'follow' when dancing. Nana taught me. I don't remember the occasion, but I took a hold of her in the traditional manner, and we began to chat and move randomly about the dance floor for several minutes. Then I realized that she was following my every move. I started to move a little more boldly to test her, and she responded effortlessly, and a lot more gracefully than myself. I was blown away, and I told her so! She thought it rather matter-of-fact, like this is how everyone dances, and I think she was more surprised by my ignorance of that fact.

I found this picture in a Vancouver newspaper from Sept. 18, 1984.

An estimated 140,000 souls turned out to see Pope John Paul celebrate afternoon mass. Unfortunately, his plane could not land because of heavy fog. She still managed to get a free wafer. Nana was age 80. How did she get there? Who knows? Really...anyone know?

Around that same time Nana moved to Sacramento and cousin Ken became her unofficial guardian. She lived in his house and he moved into a house across the street. He recalls one Halloween she came to his house, trick-or-treating, dressed up like a little girl, with rouge on her cheeks, holding a doll, and the whole getup. He was blown away because he had no idea how she managed to get it all together.

Around 1990, Ken says that Ellen and Jack moved her to San Jose. However, at some point, several siblings tell of Mom getting calls from the First Edition bar on Geneva and Mission and requesting that she come get Nana. Apparently she thought she was a waitress there, and would clean the tables and pocket the tips that patrons left.

Eventually, Mom checked her into a skilled nursing home on the hill above Serramonte. Mom would visit her almost everyday. Many years later when Mom was checked into a place like that, she would remember with regret that she 'did that' to Nana.


Aunt Barbara and Mom rented a limousine to drive her around the neighborhood for an hour or so. No doubt she enjoyed it tremendously.

I recall that she was there at least two years. It could have been 5 or 6 years. I visited Nana there at least twice, and we easily chatted the time away. She gave me a tour of the place as she conversed with many of the people we saw. Several of the staff knew her by name. She seemed to be enjoying her accommodations. At the end of my second visit, it occurred to me that there was a good chance that she didn't know who I was. I asked her point blank, and from her vague answer, it was clear that she did NOT know who I was. I am now ashamed to admit that I never went back. I recall it was partly because I was rather disgusted from walking around seeing old people sitting or lying in the halls drooling or worse. It was also because I rationalized that if she didn't know who I was, then it really doesn't matter if I go.

She was enjoying herself all the same; not lying around drooling, but actively walking around, interacting with fellow inmates, trying to shine some light on their lives. Her mind could not remember anything, but that did not seem to dampen her spirits. She was full of life 'till the day she died. At least, that's how I choose to remember her.

Ellen C. Palmer-Boullet died on Feb. 26, 1997 in the skilled nursing home. I don't remember attending a service. She is laid to rest along with Grandpa, and now Mom, at Holy Cross cemetery in Colma, California.


More Pictures

Gramps and Mom at about age 2 (1932)



1951



I think that's Craig at about age 2, so 1961?

Check out Mom's teeth before she upgraded!



1955

I.


I remember when Nana brought that giant picture home and grandpa had nothing good to say about it. "That thing is bigger than the car!"

She just giggled.



Barbara, Ellen, and Nana

End