Bernie vs. Thatcher

Well, you learn something new every day. Yesterday I attended a Bernie Sanders rally in Oakland, CA which was the very last place I thought I’d learn a new tidbit of Irish history but I was mistaken. One of the speakers had just returned from the North of Ireland. He butchered the pronunciation of Sinn Fein but he told the crowd that Bernie Sanders was one of the only politicians in the United States (and the world) who had taken the time to write an angry message directly to Margaret Thatcher in 1981.

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Free Anna Harvey

I haven’t written much about my month-long journey through Ireland culminating with the Centenary because to be frank, I am left speechless by most of it. I have no words to convey how much it changed me and how blessed I was to connect with so many amazing people. Many of the greatest moments of my life happened on this trip, including being one of the Constance Markievicz 1916 Societies standard bearers near the forefront of the centenary parade(s). I still can’t believe that happened and I owe the honor to a couple of incredible women named Anna Harvey and Emma Radford.

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Back Home In Derry

I arrived in Derry during a downpour, even though the sun was still peeking through the gathering storm clouds. By the end of the trip, I felt like the weather was a perfect metaphor for the city itself. Derry is rare. It is dark, but light pierces through it. It is grey but full of color. It is gathering and ready, but still and waiting. It is tragic and beautiful. Derry is a very special place.

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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.

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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Extra-Curricular Activities

It’s not that I haven’t been writing. It’s that I haven’t been writing as often here. This is a problem for me, until I look at where that writing is. I wrote a book! (Holy Crap) The paperback version is now available on most international Amazon markets. You can order it from Barnes & Noble bookstores and nearly any other bookstore too.  It’s pretty damn exciting I must say – but trying to keep up with the promotion stuff is hard work. I now understand why people wait for that elusive ‘contract’ and a real publishing house.

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The First Two Witches in Ireland

Dame Alice Kyteler was a very powerful woman in Kilkenny, Ireland, but that power came at a hefty price. She had many friends, but she also had many bitter enemies. She disappeared around this time in 1324, after being on the wrong end of the first witch trial in Ireland.
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