Our History
“When printed alphabets bordered blackboards and we got silver stars for knowing our dad’s middle name, I walked home two paved blocks to busy Broadway….”
(Excerpt from ‘School Bus Lunch Bucket’, a poem written by Kevin in 1971)
These words spoke to the spirit of our mid-century upbringing in the Tony and Joanie branch of the Curran family.
During our early years in the Spokane Valley we internalized the stories and experiences that shaped us into Currans.
Tony was proud of his humble, hardscrabble upbringing as a child of the depression era. He instilled in his own children simple pleasures like real butter on Sundays, late summer corn on the cob and the taste of a perfectly ripe cantelope.
On Sundays we dressed up for Mass followed by a drive to Hillyard to visit Grandpa and Grandma Curran. A chicken-shaped candy dish was kept just out of reach of children. We overheard Grandpa’s stories of Ireland before being scolded to go outside and play. Overnights were rare, but when they occurred they were memorable. We were relegated to a tiny, bunk-bed filled room off the kitchen, aptly dubbed “the icebox’. In the dark hours of one such overnight, Sean fell out of a top bunk. Keelin, Colin and I were startled awake, while he remained fast asleep on the floor.
We had picnics and Thanksgivings at Uncle Tom and Aunt Alicia’s house replete with its side yard, wrap around porch and small basketball court. Siblings and cousins ran wild, thrilled at the possibility of “torture” by an older, rogue cousin. When we gathered for picnics at Comstock Park, ice cream bars were kept eerily frozen on smoky dry ice.
The Hillyard neighborhood captured our imaginations. Visits to grandpa’s feed store often devolved into fights over whose turn it was at the salt lick. Sunday drives by the Morgan Acres homestead included stories of Tony and his siblings working the dairy farm, overturning outhouses and setting ablaze dry grass fields. He told of barefoot summers punctuated by shaved heads for all, including Maureen. The shadow of Francis’s death loomed quietly. It was a time when families did not speak openly about the death of a child. We rarely saw Tony cry, but he always did when recalling his beloved younger brother, Francis.
Through it all and through so much more, we learned the importance of our humble beginnings, our Irish heritage and cultivation of the Currans’ enduring togetherness.
Looking forward to hearing your stories and sharing more of ours at the 2025 Curran Family Reunion.
Love,
The Tony and Joanie Currans
Kevin, Dan, Mollie, Eileen, Sean, Chris and the rest of the planning committee: Jenny, Mary Pat, Lori, Nora, Colin, Will, Turner, Sophia, Reilly, Taylor, Ellie, Jacqueline, Emmy, Ernie,
Jeff, Laurie, Turner, Jackson, Evan, Jamie, Rachel, Marty, Anna, Kirk, Tony, Taylor, Austin, Reilly, Matt, Sarah, Shannon, Luis, Kamala, Beau, Hazel, Wren, Griffin, Aiden, Aldwyn, Regan, Ada and Miss Poppy!