Whiting In-Laws: 18 Kids and Tons of Tales

Today I’d like you to meet two of old El Toro’s most beloved residents.

First, Mrs. William Keating, the sweet-faced lady in black. And next, Judge William Keating, the whiskered gent who’s dressed more for a Tyrolean stroll than life on an Orange County ranch. 

As they gaze into the lens of a Los Angeles photographer's camera, both look as if they’re suppressing a chuckle or two. And although the photo doesn’t quite capture twinkling eyes, it’s easy to believe this very attractive older couple were never far from sharing a joke or offering a small child peppermints.

While researching their lives these past few months, I confess to becoming very fond of the Keatings, as if they were my surrogate grandparents. So last week, when I visited their gravesite at the top of a knoll in El Toro Memorial Park, I did so not only with respect, but also a certain amount of sadness.

I shouldn’t feel sad, of course. The Keatings lived long, fulfilling lives, though with the loss of both infant and adult children, they certainly experienced more than their share of sorrow. But to retire in relatively good health in the newly minted community of El Toro, living amid flower gardens and orchards in a temperate climate, and just a short walk from the church they established in tribute to a son, with family and friends nearby...well, I would say the Keatings enjoyed a generous share of heaven on earth before going to their eternal reward.

BUT FOR THE WAR OF 1812 . . .

Born in Nottingham, England, on Sept. 26, 1807, 5-year-old William Henry Keating was on his way with his parents to Philadelphia when they learned, from a passing vessel, that war had broken out between Great Britain and the United States. Their ship changed course, stopping instead at various South American ports. The family eventually disembarked at British Guiana. But, at that point, William’s father, John Keating, contracted yellow fever and died Oct. 22, 1813.

Young William was sent back to England for his schooling, but his mother, Ann, remained. Eventually, she married Capt. Alexander Johnston of His Majesty’s 60th regiment at Jamaica, and together they sailed back to England, whereupon William met his stepfather. The newly configured family did not stay long in England, however, eventually emigrating to Halifax in November 1819 aboard the Royal Charlotte.

By that point, William’s studies had been geared toward the law, and in 1828 he was admitted to the bar. He applied at Yarmouth, Nova Scotia, to practice law, ultimately taking a position in the provisional secretary’s office, then was appointed judge of probate and later master in chancery extraordinary and American consular agent.

ENTER ELIZA

Eliza had been born in Gibraltar on Feb. 25, 1819, and was the daughter of Capt. Anthony Van Crosen Somersall Forbes, of His Majesty’s 64th regiment, and his wife, Susan Gloriana Davoue, late of Nova Scotia. Upon Capt. Forbes' retirement they would return to that part of the world, where Eliza and William met and later married in Yarmouth on July 17, 1837.

And they were fruitful and multiplied. In the words of one of their sons, Cecil A. Keating, who would later document his family’s history, they “had a large family” for “in the time of my parents, large families were then common.”

There exists in the Nova Scotia family burial lot a memorial to eight of their children. Of the eight, only one lived to early adulthood; the rest died between the ages of 6 months and 3 years.

Of the 10 children not listed on that memorial who survived beyond early adulthood—William Forbes, George James, John Lloyd, Cecil, Arthur, Edward, Alistar, Mary, Annie Clonard and Emily Sutherland—our interest now turns to George. 

George became a successful businessman, establishing one of the world’s largest companies dealing in farm equipment, and moved to San Diego with his wife, Fannie, in 1886, where they lived in a large Victorian mansion.

His parents joined them the following year.

TRAGEDY, THEN YET ANOTHER NEW BEGINNING

And then the angel of death struck once again: On the morning of June 22, 1888, George unexpectedly passed away.

As we know, William and Eliza’s daughter Emily already had met Dwight Whiting at the opening of the Hotel Del Coronado in early 1888. Dwight Whiting being a take-charge kind of personality, it is not hard to imagine what happened next: He and Emily, now married or about to be, planned for William and Eliza to join them in El Toro by , also under construction.

The Keatings, of course, wanted to memorialize their son. So together with their son-in-law, they contributed to the building of a church—St. George’s Mission—which upon dedication would include a memorial plaque to George James Keating.

Although Dwight and Emily eventually would move to Los Angeles (word was that Emily found El Toro a bit too provincial), the Keatings were happy to remain in the little town, just steps away from the place of worship dedicated to their son’s memory. In particular, Mrs. Keating is remembered for being one of the founders of the Ladies Aid Society, and the retired judge busied himself with writing a history of his family.

At some point, however, it appears Judge and Mrs. Keating also moved to Los Angeles, for both passed away in that city. William died at age 91 on Oct. 21, 1898. Four years later, on Dec. 15, Eliza joined him, just a few months short of her 83rd birthday.

Their memorial in the oldest portion of the El Toro Cemetery has been described as the largest memorial on the premises, and after my own visit, I’m inclined to agree.

Following his name and other information, the inscription for William Keating reads “Universally beloved and respected.” And for Eliza? “Dearly loved and deeply mourned.”

More than 100 years later, this columnist has a modest understanding of the veracity of these tributes.