I must beg your pardon, if you’re still here. I can’t even believe how long it has been since I’ve had a minute to breathe, let alone write and research. It turns out that the greedy landlord problem is growing on both sides of the puddle – and I have recently been a victim of it myself. I lived in the same place for nearly two decades until this month when I was forced out of what might have been the last affordable place in the Bay Area.
The Irish have always flocked to America’s shores for one reason or another. Some have argued that the Irish built America itself, despite its inherent distrust and discriminatory attitudes toward them. And just how did the U.S. repay them for their work? Not well. America treated the Irish horribly. There were anti-Irish riots. There were “No Irish” signs. The Irish people were used and abused for years but they kept coming and eventually they became part of the fabric of the country where many thrived. It’s safe to say that without them, the United States would be a very different place.
Today there are 34.5 million people in the U.S. who claim an Irish heritage, which is nearly 30 million more than the entire population of Ireland itself. This includes the few hundred thousand Irish-born people who currently live and/or work in America legally but it doesn’t count the estimated 10,000-50,000 Irish people who are not legally supposed to be in the country. These folks usually settle in so-called “Sanctuary cities” like New York, Boston, and San Francisco where there are large, established Irish communities and city law enforcement agencies that do not contact or cooperate with immigration officials unless absolutely necessary. It creates an illusion of safety but the pervasive threat of discovery is serious and it’s getting more dire every day.
Ireland has a complicated relationship with religion. Many of its troubles in the last few hundred years are ultimately based in religious conflict and the church has ruled much of the island for centuries. But it wasn’t always so and some of its most-visited and well-known landmarks predate the Christian takeover of the island. Everywhere you go you can see signs of the old ways peeking through the hedges if you are looking for them. Many good Catholics will cross themselves or roll their eyes when they talk about the faeries but they also leave bowls of milk outside to appease them. You’ll still find iron in many doorways, though perhaps the reason it was placed there has been forgotten. As Samhain (more commonly known as Halloween) approaches, seasonal offerings left in fields, forts, tombs, and shrines increase all over Ireland. This time of year may not be the sanest time to go to the gateway to hell, but it certainly is the most appropriate one if you want to meet The Morríghan and her dark minions on one of the only nights they can escape the underworld.
The Irish Hunger Memorial stands on the edge of the Hudson River in New York City. It commemorates the journey that many thousands of Irish men, women, and children made to America while fleeing An Gorta Mór – Ireland’s Great Hunger. It is a stunning site that has seen its fair share of controversy and closures, but there’s finally some good news for New York’s little piece of Ireland.
San Francisco has its faults – many of them in fact. The sky-high living expenses, lack of good public transportation, and rising eviction rates make living anywhere in the Bay Area a tricky, anxiety-inducing endeavor. Sometimes it is really hard to remember that it has its perks too – and one of those is the city’s annual St. Patrick’s Day Parade. Continue reading
On June 30th, 1890 a horrible tragedy struck the O’Connor family in County Dublin. John O’Connor was a well-known journalist and Nationalist politician. He was the M.P. of West Wicklow and a family man who had a loving wife and five young children. This seemingly adoring family was torn apart when almost all of them were fatally poisoned. Only John O’Connor and one of his daughters survived.
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.
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.
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.
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.