My grandfather, John Lynch, left this place in 1916 at age 21 to fight in WW1. His brother James went two years later. They both worked in local factories. The house they left behind is gone now. Today it’s a dirty, fenced, parking lot. Across the street is an empty industrial building. John’s immigrant father had died young, only a few years before, leaving his wife to raise five children alone. John was the oldest son. A year after enlisting in the Army, he came home from France with a bullet in his leg and some war medals. The neighborhood of my grandfather’s youth probably hasn’t changed much. The West Side of Providence is still industrial, gritty, and full of immigrants.
Visiting the Relatives 