You might think 13 is an unlucky number but it turns out in countries like Italy and Greece, it’s 17 that’s considered the ill-luck numeral. (Buh bye, Row 17. So long, Floor 17.)

Like all superstitions (or any magical thinking), it only makes sense if you’re willing to suspend your rational mind.

In Roman numerals, 17 is shown as XVII. This is an anagram for VIXI, which can be roughly translated from Latin as “I’m now dead”.

Tenuous, I know, but then so is the idea that 13 is unlucky because Judas, the apostle who betrayed Jesus, was the thirteenth guest at the Last Supper.

I have to admit though, there is something deeply spooky about the recurrence of 17 in Bridget’s life events.

She was born on 17 March 1893.[2]

She married on 17 November 1914. [3]

She died late on 17 January 1914, or in the early hours of 18 January 1914. [4]

To add to the general eeriness regarding timing in Bridget’s life is her day of birth. 

Through the wonders of the internet, I can tell you the Bridget was born on a Friday.  For those of us of from a Christian background, Friday is considered to be an ill-luck day  as it’s when Jesus was crucified. Good Friday and whatnot whatnot.

There’s the rub though, isn’t it?  For every piece of “ill luck” I’ve highlighted, it’s shadowed by other possible meanings.

For starters, Bridget wasn’t Italian.  Her Irish parents, Patrick and Hanorah O’Callaghan, must have been overjoyed with their St Paddy’s Day babe when she was born in 1893.

I can’t picture this bride being consumed by misgivings on her wedding day either.  I can only see Bridget dressed up in her prettiest frock, surrounded by family and friends, marrying the man she loves in her local parish church, St Patrick’s. It’s exciting. It’s momentous. It’s not ominous.

As for the 17 January 1914, the last day of Bridget’s life, I don’t get a sense of a someone who’s consumed with foreboding.  Instead, I feel like we get the strongest notion of Bridget’s character.

In Bridget’s murder file, the police report this conversation she had with Mrs Jeffries, the friend she spent the last day of her life with.[6]

“Mrs Jeffries then advised the deceased by saying, “If I was you, I would go and see the detectives.”

The deceased replied, …“No, it’s a family trouble and I will follow him to the last no matter what becomes of him.”

Bridget was determined, so determined she resisted the efforts of her big brother and her friend to steer her away from danger.  

I can also hear a hint of that bravura that you’re cursed with when you’re twenty and too certain of yourself. 

“I will follow him to the last no matter what becomes of him.”

You did, didn’t you, darling girl?  He told you not to but you followed him anyway.   Followed him into that timber yard in Bowen Hills where he’d smash you in the face with a piece of wood. Twice.

My only hope is that Henry caught you unawares, Auntie, and you had no time to regret your determination.

#WildBridgie

End notes

1] "Number 17 in Ornate Frame." Canva, created by B Moulder, 25 March 2024. Photograph.[1]

[2] Birth Certificate of Bridget Mary O’Callaghan, 17 March 1893, Queensland Registry of Births, Deaths and Marriages, Brisbane, Queensland. Birth Certificate.

[3] Marriage Certificate of Bridget Mary O’Callaghan, 17 November 1913, Queensland Registry of Births, Deaths and Marriages, Brisbane, Queensland. Marriage Certificate.

[4] Death Certificate of Bridget Mary O’Callaghan, 18 January 1914, Queensland Registry of Births, Deaths and Marriages, Brisbane, Queensland. Death Certificate.

[5] “Early 20th-century photo of St. Patrick's Church, Allora, Queensland.” Canva, created by B Moulder, 17 March 2024.  Photograph.

[6] ITM665959, Hopgood, Bridget Mary, 18 January 1914 – 1 April 1920, Queensland State Archives, Runcorn, Brisbane. Murder file (administrative).