Even now, here 30 years since, when I turn to the southwest in Ennis from Shannon, and head out on the peninsula that ends at Loop Head, and somewhere on that road get my first wind of turfsmoke, I remember the first time and the sense that I had then of coming home. "The name's good," the man in the customs hall had said, letting my bags pass without a look. I had a hundred … [Read more...] about Nora, an Excerpt
Immigration
The Perils of Pat
Peter Quinn writes about his immigrant grandfather. ℘℘℘ The man on the horse is my paternal grandfather, Patrick Francis Quinn. The date is September 5, 1904. Pat is about to take his place as grand marshal of the New York City Labor Day Parade. The horse was rented for the occasion. I have the sash he is wearing in the photograph, a piece of faded blue silk embroidered … [Read more...] about The Perils of Pat
Confessions of a
Bronx Irish Catholic
Over the years, I've spent an inordinate amount of time thinking about what it means to be Irish. Occasionally, my public writings and ruminations on the subject have led to me being described (and dismissed) as a "professional Irishman." If only it were true! Unfortunately, I'm still a semi-pro, forced to make a living at activities unrelated to my ethnic investigations.
A … [Read more...] about Confessions of a
Bronx Irish Catholic
The Irish as Playful Souls
The old St. Patrick's Day quip about there being two kinds of people – those who are Irish and those who wish they were – turns out to be not so far from wrong. The research my colleague Michael Hout has carried out shows that there are a lot more Americans claiming to be Irish than one might expect from immigration records, because the children of ethnically mixed marriages … [Read more...] about The Irish as Playful Souls
The First Word: In the Beginning . . .
From the time of St. Brendan, the Irish were drawn to America. Maybe it came from gazing out on the vast Atlantic Ocean and wondering what was on the other side. Brendan made his legendary trip in an ox-hide currach. Later the Irish reached "Inishfail" -- that "island of destiny" envisioned by the poets -- as migratory fishermen making their way to Newfoundland in the holds of … [Read more...] about The First Word: In the Beginning . . .