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When I was in grade and high school, my mother Margaret would often comment on St. Patrick’s Day, that in her parents’ native Ireland the day wasn’t one of revelry, like in the U. S., but rather a Holy Day that would end in a wee bit of a pint and songs at the pub. Margaret had never been to Ireland, but relied on the memory of her father, Pat.
Patrick Peter Roddy was born in the early 1890’s on the family farm in Cloonlumney, just outside of Ballaghadarreen, County Roscommon. Pat, and two brothers emigrated to the U.S. in what is known as the post Potato Famine period from 1850’s through 1929. The youngest brother, Jim, stayed on the farm to assist their parents. Pat served in the U.S. Army in World War I and fought in France. He married Catherine Foley in St. Paul after the war and they had two children, Margaret, born in August, 1921 and son John born in October, 1922. Catherine died shortly after from Tuberculosis, the consequence of caring for her two sisters until their death from the same ailment. Pat worked the Soo Line rails from St. Paul to Chippewa Falls and relied on family to help raise his children in their early years.
Cloonlumney is best described as an “L” in the road, a corner that includes St. Colman Church. Around the L you run into the Roddy farmhouse, an ancient little home in the classic Irish cottage style. It has served the family for generations. A tad further and one runs into the Derrinacartha National School where generations of my mom’s family were trained, including my grandpa Pat. Twice I have stood in that two room schoolhouse and thought of my grandpa, who died when I was 13. My mom’s cousin, another John Roddy, also went to school there. John’s widow Marion was the last to live in the family home, my cousin Catherine Roddy visited there a couple of years ago and discovered that Marion was in the nursing home in Galway, 40 miles to the west. We have lost track of the next generation, and unfortunately not sure if the farm is still in the family. Once Marion is gone, it will end generations who have tilled that small farm.
My parents made two trips to Ireland in their traveling days, the second time with her brother John and Auntie Mabel. Brother and sister got a chance to meet their cousins and remaining members of their generation, as well as walk the countryside they had heard their father speak of so many times. Mary and I have made two journeys as well, the second trip included our two kids to show them a part of their heritage and from where their ancestors hailed.
The internet allows one to do a little sleuthing. I have found photos for the Derrinacartha School. The last time I was there I spent as much time dodging the pigeons as I did marvel that I was standing in the same school my grandpa studied in over 100 years earlier. Some things never change! The N5, the national road that leads from the spoke of roads outside Dublin to Galway serves that area. I have looked at drawings of portions of a “Dual Carriageway” that is replacing the national highway we would call a small county road.
The internet also allows you to see how holidays are celebrated around the world. My mother used to insist that St. Patrick’s Day was solemn in Ireland and perhaps it once was. The last few years, photos of the partying, green beer and Leprechaun outfits that would make the Notre Dame Mascot blush were aplenty. I’m not so sure that St. Patty’s day has had quite the same flavor my mother wished for.
St Patrick’s Day 2020 will make her description accurate. With the Corona Virus raging around the world, St. Patrick’s celebrations have been canceled in great Irish cities like Boston, Dublin and Cork, and not so Irish cities like Fargo and Bismarck, North Dakota. The parades won’t roll, the beer may be green, but certainly won’t be flowing in Irish pubs in Chicago, Pittsburgh nor Dublin.
The Irish people have endured floods, famines and persecution since the days of Cromwell. My mother’s family struggles on that little farm in County Roscommon is just a small sliver of the hardships endured for generations. The last twenty years or so have been the most prosperous in Irish history, so the uncertainty of the Corona Virus may be the first setback young Irish people have faced. Perhaps it will lead them to prayer, church and just a wee bit of a pint in small clusters. If the resiliency of their forbearers comes through, they will weather this storm as well.
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