Post by Brendan on Jul 5, 2010 20:42:40 GMT
Hi to All:
Like the old song says: 21 years is a mighty long time. Although it feels like yesterday, I’ll be in NY 21 years next month. Home to me will always be The Curragh. Over the last two decades I’ve met some incredible people. The ones that stand out were several from the olde sod itself. While they were happy in their personal lives’, there was a twinge of sadness in their respective circumstances.
I first met “Mary” in 1993 at Columbia University where she worked as a security officer. She retired two months ago at the young age of 80. She never lost her Tipperary accent nor her zest for life. She moved to the States in the 1950s, got married, had kids, grandkids, and great-grandkids. Her husband whom she is still with, retired in the 1970s. I once asked her enthusiastically when she was last “home?” My heart sank when she said never. Not even for her mother’s funeral.
She said she could never go home with her husband in the 50s and 60s because he is a black man. I’m not in a position to argue the pros and cons of her decision. I gave her a big hug.
Several years ago I found myself in the emergency room at my local hospital. In pain and anxious, I immediately propped up when the hospital porter wheeled me in for an x-ray. It’s amazing when you ask a fellow Irish person where he or she is from. They’ll always say the County of their birth. “Larry” told me he hailed from Leitrim. I asked if he went “home” often? My heart sank yet again when he said that he never has been back to Ireland since he moved 40 years ago.
When I ran a restaurant several years ago, I met a walking history book in the name of James McNamara from County Clare. I was truly fascinated by the 80+ gentleman. He frequented my establishment every Friday afternoon, where he eat roost beef, mashed spuds and gravy. I sat with James for hours listening to the stuff on Ireland I never knew about. Many, like his family had to leave Ireland in the 1920s after the civil war or face death, or imprisonment.
During these turbulent times, I’m pretty sure that America, Canada and Australia had their boatful of Irish who arrived on their shores under these circumstances.
There are many others whom I met that left Ireland and have a great story to tell. Part of me feels sad for those who were, for whatever reason, could never make it home. I only know that they made a difference wherever they lived. They touched others lives’ and have made, and continue to make the world a better place. God Bless the Irish!
Brendan
Like the old song says: 21 years is a mighty long time. Although it feels like yesterday, I’ll be in NY 21 years next month. Home to me will always be The Curragh. Over the last two decades I’ve met some incredible people. The ones that stand out were several from the olde sod itself. While they were happy in their personal lives’, there was a twinge of sadness in their respective circumstances.
I first met “Mary” in 1993 at Columbia University where she worked as a security officer. She retired two months ago at the young age of 80. She never lost her Tipperary accent nor her zest for life. She moved to the States in the 1950s, got married, had kids, grandkids, and great-grandkids. Her husband whom she is still with, retired in the 1970s. I once asked her enthusiastically when she was last “home?” My heart sank when she said never. Not even for her mother’s funeral.
She said she could never go home with her husband in the 50s and 60s because he is a black man. I’m not in a position to argue the pros and cons of her decision. I gave her a big hug.
Several years ago I found myself in the emergency room at my local hospital. In pain and anxious, I immediately propped up when the hospital porter wheeled me in for an x-ray. It’s amazing when you ask a fellow Irish person where he or she is from. They’ll always say the County of their birth. “Larry” told me he hailed from Leitrim. I asked if he went “home” often? My heart sank yet again when he said that he never has been back to Ireland since he moved 40 years ago.
When I ran a restaurant several years ago, I met a walking history book in the name of James McNamara from County Clare. I was truly fascinated by the 80+ gentleman. He frequented my establishment every Friday afternoon, where he eat roost beef, mashed spuds and gravy. I sat with James for hours listening to the stuff on Ireland I never knew about. Many, like his family had to leave Ireland in the 1920s after the civil war or face death, or imprisonment.
During these turbulent times, I’m pretty sure that America, Canada and Australia had their boatful of Irish who arrived on their shores under these circumstances.
There are many others whom I met that left Ireland and have a great story to tell. Part of me feels sad for those who were, for whatever reason, could never make it home. I only know that they made a difference wherever they lived. They touched others lives’ and have made, and continue to make the world a better place. God Bless the Irish!
Brendan
