Looking back at Irish America’s premier issue we see that it set the tone for what was to come: a thorough investigation into what it means to be Irish American. Thirty-five years later, we are still answering that question and still pondering the answers. Enjoy these quotes compiled over 35 years. -The Irish America Team 1986 Tip O'Neill “Growing up as a youngster in … [Read more...] about 35 Years: 1985-2020
Peter Quinn
Peter Quinn’s Novel Redux
"Quinn has a way of making ordinary things, the ordinary or wise or inadequate thoughts of many persons in many circumstances not only convincing but merely actual: an ability that can remind a reader of James Joyce in stories like The Dead and in Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man." – John Crowley (from a new addendum to his original review in the New York Times 27 … [Read more...] about Peter Quinn’s Novel Redux
The Last Word: Things Fall Apart
By Peter Quinn, Contributor
August / September 2019
The failure to stay young. ℘℘℘ The greatest failure in America is the failure to stay young. It is a failure of imagination, the inability to grasp the alternatives offered by surgery, cosmetology, and pharmacology. It is a failure of will, the indiscipline that results in flagging energies, flabby bodies, and clogged arteries. It is a failure of financial planning, the … [Read more...] about The Last Word: Things Fall Apart
Recollections of a Bronx Irish Catholic
By Peter Quinn, Contributor
May / June 2019
In the 1950s, the Bronx was a melting pot of immigrants and first-generation families: Jewish, Italian, and Irish alike. Peter Quinn shares his story of what it was like to be a Bronx Irish Catholic, commonly referred to as a B.I.C. ℘℘℘ “Breathes there the man, with soul so dead, / Who never to himself hath said, / This is my own, my native land! / Whose heart hath ne’er within … [Read more...] about Recollections of a Bronx Irish Catholic
Out of Reach:
Memories of a Distant Father
By Peter Quinn
December / January 2018
I reached for my father’s hand as he lay in his hospital bed. Sensing his unease, I quickly let go. It was my last attempt at intimacy. He died several days later, maintaining the distance between us to the end.
I arrived in my father’s life as part of a double surprise, the elder of boy twins. Nine months earlier, he lost his seat as a congressman from New York and my mother … [Read more...] about Out of Reach:
Memories of a Distant Father