McDonald Family Tree » Francis Charles McDonald (1916-1992)

Personal data Francis Charles McDonald 

• He was born on June 24, 1916 in Fulton, New York, USA.Sources 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6
• He was baptized on July 16, 1916 in Fulton, New York, USA.Source 7

  Church of the Immaculate Conception

• Occupations:
• Proud owner of McDonald Wholesale Distributor.
• Inspector for US government before stepping into the family business (a decision he never regretted) in Detroit, Wayne, Michigan.
• Social Security Number: Social Security #: 377-05-1113.
• Resident:
• in the year 1920: Detroit Ward 12, Wayne, Michigan, Verenigde Staten.Source 5
• in the year 1930: Detroit, Wayne, Michigan, Verenigde Staten.Source 3
• Detroit, Wayne, Michigan, Verenigde Staten.Source 1
• Farmington Hills, Oakland, Michigan.Source 6
• in the year 1935: Detroit, Wayne, Michigan.Source 4
• on April 1, 1940: Detroit, Wayne, Michigan, Verenigde Staten.Source 4
• (Event 1) on May 26, 1935 in grad. St. Cecilia H.S. (First grad Class).
• (Ethnicity/Relig.) in Catholic.
• (Comment 1) in raised family of 6 in Detroit, MI.
• (Personality/Intrst) : Punster, loves Laurel&Hardy&other slap-stick comedy. Incredibly .
• He died on June 2, 1992 in Farmington Hills, MI-Botsford Gen Hosp, he was 75 years old.Sources 2, 6, 8

  MI death certificate number 035829

• He is buried in Holy Sepulcher Cemetary, Southfield, MI.
• A child of George Francis McDonald and Clara Ann Roland

Household of Francis Charles McDonald

He is married to Marjorie Marie Bowen.

They got married on June 14, 1941 at St. Cecilia Church, Detroit, MI, he was 24 years old.Source 1

Child(ren):

1. (Not public)
2. (Not public)
3. (Not public)
4. (Not public)
5. (Not public)
6. (Not public)

Event (Marriage Fact) in 51 wonderful, unforgettable years! .

Event (Marriage Fact): 51 wonderful, unforgettable years!.

Notes about Francis Charles McDonald

On December 9, 1991, Mac suffered a cardiac arrest at St. Mary’s Hospital - he wasn't supposed to survive. Later that day he was flown by Survival Flight to Henry Ford Hospital - he wasn't supposed to survive the flight. He was brought straight from the chopper to the cath lab, where they inserted a balloon pump - he wasn't supposed to survive the surgery.
He also wasn't supposed to survive the night. On December 10 he underwent emergency double bypass surgery - we were told he would probably survive the surgery, but not the night - he survived.
Today is January 10, 1992, and my Grampa is tired of surviving. Six weeks ago (has it only been six weeks?) he was going into work at least 3 times a week - now we are told we cannot allow him to walk more than than three feet because his heart can't handle the increased workload. (During his hospital stays he also suffered four separate MI's which caused massive damage to his heart.) He knows he can't ever go back to work - and we've all known that if "The Store" was ever taken away from him, he would die.
When I think of Grampa I will remember many things. Walks in the "6 mile" park, where we climbed huge hills that no one else could tackle and he would push me on the swings - push me so high that I could almost touch the sky. I'll remember waking up early in the morning and tiptoeing into his room, climbing into bed and playing "tent"*. I'll remember the Sunday funnies, breakfast at The International House of Pancakes, chocolate covered cherries, White Castle hamburgers and puns that were so absurd and stupid you just have to laugh. I remember how he would always stick the bow from a present he was opening on the top of his forehead, then look around with a confused look on his face - wondering why everyone was laughing. I'll remember Laurel & Hardy, my first tackle box, and the first Christmas present he ever bought me himself - a hospital. And I'll never forget December 15 - when I went up to his ICU room to show him my Paramedic license - and then December 16, when I went up to visit and his nurse said "You must be Lisa, the Paramedic", and later that day when his doctor came in and said "You must be Lisa, the Paramedic", and the next day when - well, you get the idea.
I hope I'll forget what he looked like before he was flown to Fords' - forget that I didn't recognize him - forget the feeling when, God forgive me, he looked like a thousand other nameless, faceless patients we refer to unaffectionely as "gomers".
But I will never forget my Grampa - he was always there for me. I just pray that I can be strong enough to be there for him. Or what's left of him.

"Tent" is a complex game requiring one Grampa, one 3 year old, a foundation, and a blanket. The Grampa holds the blanket up over his and the three year old`s heads and says Shhhhhhhh, were in a tent - we have to be quiet. The three year old then proceeds to giggle first quietly, then progressively louder until the whole house wakes up muttering "I HATE TENTS!!!")

Lisa McDonald
January 10, 1992

Today is Tuesday, June 2, 1992, about 4:30am. My Grampa died at 2:00am today. We're not sure of the official cause of death - they'll have his biopsy results back tomorrow - at this point we were suspecting lymphoma. I guess it doesn't really matter now.
I'm glad that he's finally able to rest. These past few months have been really hard. Thankfully, he was only REALLY sick for about a week.
I'm sorry that you'll never get to meet him. He was a great man and a perfect grandpa. I'm very lucky that he was mine.

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Timeline Francis Charles McDonald

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