Category Archives: Northern Ireland

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(London) Derry

My trip to Derry can’t be put into one post. There’s just too much to the city to compress it into one little tale and it is too special to me. It started when I bought a ticket to ‘Derry’  and the bus driver said he didn’t know where that was, but that he’d be happy to drive me to ‘Londonderry.’ This city is a complicated place, full of pride and controversy. Unlike it’s neighbors in the north, it has no towering, man-made “peace” walls, but it remains segregated and even its name is still hotly contested, as I learned that day. Its Loyalist population feels like its culture is under attack and being stripped away, just as they do in other parts of the region. This post is about their side of the river Foyle, in the town that many of them still call Londonderry.

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Memories of Belfast

My body is rebelling against being thrown back into the States and I caught a vicious cold on the flight back from Ireland. This cold, on top of the jet lag, culture shock, and come down after such a mind-blowing holiday has left me quite speechless. I have a lot of catching up to do for sure and a lot of processing to do as well.

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Derry

This city is like nowhere else I’ve ever been. It’s powerful, amazing, and heartbreaking. As a student of Irish history, to stand on Free Derry Corner during a brief break from the rain was potent and awesome.

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Yesterday I took a long ride with Paul Doherty whose father was murdered on Bloody Sunday. It was an intense afternoon full of laughter and a few silent tears. I have never written about that massacre specifically and I’m still not sure I ever will. His voice and the voices of the other families and survivors are loud enough and more important. But it has been mentioned here because you can’t have an Irish blog with no mention of Bloody Sunday; just like you can’t walk or drive through Derry without seeing those scars and the strength and anger that still remain so many years later. I can’t recommend Paul’s taxi ride highly enough. We went everywhere and he took me to many of the murals off the beaten path. When he found out I write an Irish blog that’s somewhat focused on women, he took me to a couple that honor women specifically.

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My only complaint thus far is how shoddy the wi-fi is my hotel. Other than that, I may be in love with this region. I have a giant oak tattooed on my body, so I guess it’s no surprise that I’d love Derry considering that its name means Oak Grove. I have a day or so left, so if there’s something I absolutely must do or see here, let me know.

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Happy Birthday Bobby Sands

Today Bobby Sands would have turned 62 had he lived beyond his hunger strike. Since he did not and I happen to be in Belfast, I decided to visit him (and others) in Milltown Cemetery, bringing flowers that were long overdue.

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Taking this show on the road…

I can’t believe it’s almost time to leave. I’ve been waiting for so many years and now it is all coming so quickly. Next week begins my Irish holiday/research trip and I have made the choice to spend the month without my laptop. I’ll still be connected of course, but with less writer-friendly tools, so there will likely be a lot of photos and updates, but less of the wordy and lengthy histories. If you miss those, feel free to pick up a copy of Petticoats, Patriots, and Partition in your favorite bookstore or Amazon market. It is certainly one part of what has made this trip possible.

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Petticoats, Patriots, and Partition (take 1)

#nowyouknowmyname

So I probably just did the scariest thing I have ever done ever. I published a book. One that people can buy, and that has my name on it. It’s terrifying and wonderful and I kind of feel like an impostor.

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Shameless Self-Promotion

It’s so very close to being finished and I just can’t keep it to myself anymore. I hope you’ll forgive the teasing since it is not available yet, but by December 1st, it will be.

It’s written. It exists. It’s a collection of short histories, and mini-biographies – many that started as blog posts here. In fact, there are only a few that I’ve held back for the book only, but in this form the entries are expanded, edited, and written slightly differently. It’s taken forever and I’m super excited about it – or I would be if I could just stop editing. But now there’s a single, real-life, (albeit marked up) copy in the world and the rest are so very close.

Now you know the title. And my real name for that matter. Hopefully some of you will love this book – and will be OK with me promoting you in it too. I can’t believe it. Coming so very,  very soon!

#nowyouknowmyname

#holycrapIwroteabook

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The Hunger

Last week I wrote a little about Brendan Hughes, and coincidentally, today is the commemoration of the start of his hunger strike. Their troscad – which is the Celtic name for a fast that was employed to draw attention to insult or to fight injustice – began 35 years ago today.

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It’s my birthday!

My blogs have had a birthday! I almost missed the notification – but I turn two today…or one of them does. It is hard to believe, considering I didn’t even know I had two years of material in me. This one isn’t quite two yet, but since it is more regular, I’m celebrating it anyway. Earlier this year,  I posted my ten favorite Irish posts from my first year of writing. Now I’m publishing a book, looking forward to spending a month in Ireland come March, and already forging ahead. I hope you’ll all join me on these adventures.

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The Dark One

On this day in 1948, Brendan “The Dark” Hughes was born. He came from a long line of Republican fighters, and as he grew up, he knew that his own entry into the IRA was inevitable. He was right and he was an effective soldier. Later in life he often talked about peace, reconciliation, tearing down the peace walls, and improving relations in the North of Ireland – but he knew he was being idealistic. That peaceful existence may have been what he ultimately wanted, but his life was filled with violence, prison, hunger, and retribution.

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