Walter Joseph Dunne was born on October 30, 1900 in Brantford, Ontario, Canada. He moved to Detroit with his family around 1912. 

He graduated from Assumption College, a Catholic University located in Windsor, Ontario, Canada. He received his law degree from the University of Detroit

He was the director of the Wayne County Department of Social Welfare. As director from its creation in 1939, he guided the agency for 27 years, during periods of great change in welfare operations. 

Before 1939, he was Superintendent of the Poor and chairman of the three-man board that ran Wayne County General Hospital. He was active in the Friends of Mr. Dunne Assumption, a group which raised scholarship and building funds for his college. 

He served as legislative counsel for Wayne County Board of Auditors between 1934 and 1939 and helped compose and assisted in the passage of the Social Welfare Act which created the Social Welfare Department. 

The City of Detroit has an official proclamation recognizing February 15th as Walter J. Dunne day.

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Walter was a man who loved games and challenges - golf, hunting, fishing, bridge, poker, pool (he paid his way through college playing pool). He was an avid golfer. As a young man, Walter played for the Kellogg's semi-pro baseball team. He was sociable, articulate, and enjoyed exchanges of ideas. 

Walter met and married Nola Walsh in 1924. They had ten children. He is affectionately called Daddy Dunne by his children and grandchildren. 

He died at age 65, about three weeks after Nola died. 

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Walter Dunne Spelled With An E

This poem was written for Daddy Dunne's retirement:

Daddy Dunne with Tad, Paul, Walt and Mike

A man does his best as he goes through the years –

He tries to solve any problem that appears.

When a man is firmly ensconced in the public eye

His name will get into print by and by.

Whether it’s good or it’s bad, it all seems the same,

But why do those dolts misspell a man’s name?

Our man is proud of his family tree.

His name is Dunne – that’s spelled with an E.

E is an important letter, this you can believe.

It stood for Excellence, he was bound to achieve.

A fair and a just man he’s known as, by all.

A little stubborn at times, but then, aren’t we all?

E stand for Everyone that could make it tonight

To show appreciation to a man who could fight.

So, as you embark on the retirement sea.

May you roll gently, Walter Dunne – that’s spelled with an E. 


From Walter to Nola – 1926

Tuesday – 10.30 P.M.

Sweetheart:

Received your letter when I arrived home tonight and like a 250 yard drive, it was certainly welcome. I felt like the time you sent me one when I as in Battle Creek. Or did you? However, you know the feeling. It starts in the middle and spreads in all directions, like tossing a rock into the lake. Sorry to hear about the traffic congestion. There is nothing so exasperating. Probably reminded you of Woodward Ave on a Sunday evening coming from Pontiac.

Virginia is fine. I stop in to see her every morning and evening and she receives me like the little queen that she is. Just like her mother, only not so much. (Do I get an extra kiss for that?). Getting back to Virginia tho, they said everything was strange to the poor little devil except the bassinet. She would crawl from all over the apartment to stand alongside it and hold on. I never knew her to like it so much, did you?

I got that new driver I’ve been threatening to buy. It’s a pip, steel shaft ’n everything. Bought it at Buhl’s for just half what they ask a the retail stores. And still it costs plenty. I have a trial on at Royal Oak at 2pm tomorrow and if we finish in time, I intend to play 9 holes at Rackham. Sharpening up for your dad.

Worked all evening on the Hall collections. I hear so much of that damn name, that I’m beginning to believe they don’t make dining rooms any more. (wasn’t that a sagacious outburst). Thank God I’ll be there with them pretty soon. 

There isn’t much more to impart dear. Things pursue an even tenar. Haven’t had a fight with a taxi driver since you left. That’s carrying the peace & goodwill thing too far, but its true. 

I don’t remember whether I told you or not, but Leo LeFeure sold his store. I did it for him and thereby worked myself right out of a job. Now, I can see the foot ball games this fall.  He sold to five Jewish persons, who will be telling their children in years to come, to be mighty careful if they ever want to buy a shoe store.

One should always have an excuse for closing a letter. You can see for yourself there isn’t much paper left. That’s my excuse. 

Extremely your own

W———

(if I give you this, I want is right back)

Click to zoom in on the images below to view photocopy of actual letter:

12-4-65

My Darling Eleanor:

Your letter will rate near the top in nice things which have happened in my lifetime.  Thoughtful?  Sentimental?  I guess quality in the letter is the better word.  But anyway, thanks!

Memories come back.  skabetti (a) – Eleanor’s hill (b) – poor Lee and his Dutch (c) – to the convent with panache flying – but learning a bit of yourself in the violets – charm school and busy ? women and then fulfillment with a happy family that will grow on you because they are so much of you.

About 12 years ago, I had a radical ethmoid growth (in the soft bone behind the nose) and so I was told, a cancer. Ten days later it was a false alarm. But meanwhile the reaction was interesting.  Not fear of dying, but rather that my work was not finished.  My family was not raised.  Who was there to take care of them when I was gone?  Funny thing, but true.  I guess parents are naturally protective.  They want to shield their children against the hurts and ills of the world – at least till they can fend for themselves. Apparently it did not occur to me to trust in God. But he gave me additional time.

The cancer was confirmed last March.  I had 20 cobalts which knocked out the nasal growth like magic and left hope that I was cured.  After a couple of months respite it showed up again in the hard palate.  I am now finishing 20 radio- therapy treatments on both sides and the back of my neck.  Mother says like a rotisserie.  Naturally, the future is a question mark.  But you take what comes.  There isn’t much can be done about it anyway.  I am past 65 which surpasses my youthful estimate.  I have had a busy life with few disappointments – unless you count those 4 foot putts.  Your concern is comforting, Eleanor but please don’t worry for me.  Like that song – que sera, sera.  But, sotto voce, if you can put in a good word for me anywhere.

And I count my blessings.  Ten wonderful children, healthy in mind and body, talented and successful and carrying on into another generation. And my own private little saint!  I don’t think we could have made it without her.  There was some lean years during the depression but dear Nola was always there, stanch, cheerful and uncomplaining.  A gentle patrician. 

. . . She walks in beauty.

And on that cheek an air,
and on that brow
So soft, so calm, yet so eloquent;

The smiles that win
the tints that glow,
and tell of days in goodness spent;

A mind at peace with all below
a heart whose love is innocent 

 

With all my love

Daddy

 

  1. “skabetti” — How we children pronounced spaghetti.
  2. “Eleanor’s Hill”: The route from Gesu to home was via Santa Maria, going about 6 blocks to Parkside, where Santa Maria ends. Turn left, go about 6 houses to home (passing Ulrich, Dodge, McGann, Cotter, Nelson, Mitchell/Sullivan, to Dunne). Along Santa Maria, between Fairfield and Muirland, the road is a little bit downhill. Daddy was teaching Eleanor to drive. It was winter. At the downhill stretch, the car started sliding and Eleanor hit a parked car. No great damage, but  Daddy, in his wisdom to preserve her confidence, insisted that she get behind the wheel and  continue driving. Then she hit another car. Hence “Eleanor’s Hill”
  3. “Lee and his Dutch”:  Dad’s brother Lee thought that Eleanor in her nun habit looked “Dutch”; which is what he called her.

 

Click to zoom in on the images below to view photocopy of actual letter:

Ford Hospital
Saturday 4/2/66

My Darling:

This has the making of a comic opera. You in and out of Mt Caramel (hospital) and I at Ford’s – and the twain have a hard time meeting. But I think of you constantly and the kids bring daily reports. They have taken over wonderfully well and relieved me of much concern.

The swelling in my lip is going down some. The doctor this morning seemed satisfied with the progress.  I found an easier way to take the hot cereal. I just dilute it with enough mild and drink it.  Quicker that way.  Same with meat. They put the pulverized baby meat in broth and I drink from that.  Than when I drink my milk, I have gotten thru the meal in about 3 1/2 minutes.  Much less trouble.

I wrote to Fred (dad’s brother) and invited him to come & visit.

Mark Cavanaugh was in to visit yesterday as well as Bob Sheldon & his wife. He brought back that resolution with the signatures complete. Happy also about a promotion to head up non settlement.  He’ll do well.

I don’t know when I’ll be out of here. I don’t suppose you do either. But until that happy day when we will meet again.

–  I love you dearly, xxxx

Daddy Dunne!

Click to zoom in on the images below to view photocopy of actual letter:
Thaddeus Aquinus Dunne (Tad)
"I have had a busy life with few disappointments, unless you count those four foot putts"
– Daddy Dunne –
(written to Eleanor in 1965, about seven months before he died)
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Mullach Abu