John Brennan had a reputation as being quite a character in Johnston. People liked to talk about how much money he had and ponder the question of why he chose to live as a miser instead of enjoying his good fortune.

John had come to the United States from Ireland, where he was born to Edward and Margaret Brennan in 1845. As an adult, he filled the position of railroad station master at Manton for about a decade. He then opened a saloon on Thurber’s Avenue in Providence and provided intoxicating refreshments to customers for the next twenty years. By the time of his retirement, it was believed that he had acquired quite a comfortable financial position for himself and his wife.

John had married Mary Matthews, a fellow Irish immigrant and the daughter of James and Mary Matthews. In October of 1891, 50-year-old Mary fell ill from the effects of atrophic cardiac softening and suffered for two months before passing away at home on the afternoon of Dec. 16. After her death, John relocated to another part of town. He settled into a tiny, rustic hut not far from the railroad station. Those who visited the residence were surprised at how sparsely the abode was furnished. A stove and two chairs were the only items of furniture to be seen. A few ragged mats piled on the floor served as John’s bed.

John’s son James made numerous attempts at convincing his father to come and live with him at his house on Magnolia Street. But John repeatedly refused the offer. His hut – with its glass panes smashed out of the windows, and rags and crumpled paper stuffed into holes around the frames – was where he chose to be.

For 14 years, John resided in the dirty, drafty hut while people continued to wonder why he didn’t enjoy some of the money he’d worked hard for over the years. The last anyone saw of him was toward the end of Dec. 1905 when he walked to a nearby store to purchase a loaf of bread for himself. Approximately two weeks passed before several people commented that they hadn’t crossed paths with him in a while.

The door to the hut was forced open. John lay there on his pile of mats, deceased and frozen solid in the wintry air. Hung on the wall above his body was the only adornment in the place – an old tintype photograph bearing the image of his late wife.

John’s body was removed to the undertaker and it was determined that death had come about due to natural causes, with physical exhaustion and the frigid temperature probably being contributing factors. The funeral was held on Jan. 11 at James’s house.

The tiny hut was thoroughly searched for the income John was always thought to be hoarding, but no money was found. Whether he’d hidden it, squandered it, or it had never existed at all became a mystery.