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BUFFALOIRISHTIMES
IRISH
February 2013 - March 2013
Gaelic American Athletic Association
Buffaloirishtimes
December 2014
Gaelic American Athletic Association of Buffalo, NY
Buffalo
Fenians
GAA selected to host 2017
Lee
Hartung
Named
IrishmanContinental
of the Year for 2013
Youth Championship
Lee E. Hartung will be honored as
Irishman of the Year at the 165th Annual
Sons has
dinner
on aSaturday,
March
Friendly2014
been
very successful
2nd atat the
Buffalo
Irish Center.
year
Buffalo
Fenians
GAA. He
Thewill
local
Gaelic
Club
hasofmade
history
receive Athletic
this highest
honor
the Knights
time
and astime
againNancy
throughout
of Equity
his wife
Hartung2014.
reBeginning
in Januaryof2014,
the Award,
Fenians
ceives the Daughters
Erin Tara
were
honored
to host
GAA
the highest
award
given
to President
a memberLiam
of
O’Neill
to
Buffalo,
the
first
timetime
in GAA
the organization. This is the first
a
history a sitting President visited Buffalo.
husband and wife will receive the awards
The Fenians youth program has gone from
together.
strength to strength. This very successful
program
JulyA.2014,
when
Lee iswas
therewarded
son of theinlate
Walter
Fenians
U14’s
claimed
their and
firstgrandNational
and Lucy
(Meyer)
Hartung
Title
Youth
son ofatthethe
late yearly
AnthonyContinental
and Anna (DilChampionship
in New
To top
lon) Hartung and
is theYork
oldestCity.
of five
off
2014 as
historical
forSchool
Buffalo
children.
He aattended
St.year
James
Fenians GAA, it has been announced that
in Buffalo, and when the family moved
Buffalo Fenians GAA will host the 2017
to Bliss, NY he finished grammar school
Continental Youth Championship right
at Arcade
Central Schools. He then
here
in Buffalo.
Bishop
High School
attendedSo
what Timon
is the Continental
Youth
and
graduated
in
the
third
graduating
Championship? The Continental
Youth
class in 1952. He
Canisius
Championship
is attended
an annual
four day
College andencompassing
went to workGaelic
at the Football,
Ford
tournament
Hurling,
and Camogie.
in 2004,
Motor Company,
whereIthebegan
worked
bringing
together
youth
from all
for the next
43 years.
He teams
and Nancy
across
UnitedonStates
and1,Canada
to
Riordanthemarried
October
1955 and
compete
at annually
chosen
cities.
together had
8 children,
two ofhost
whom
Over
theliving
years,–CYC
seenKill
a surge
are still
Janethas
(Don)
and in
participation from youth GAA clubs from
Nadine (Jim) Ormond. They are proud
all over the United States and Canada.
grandparents of eight granddaughters,
CYC 2014 with the participation of 232
three great-granddaughters,
great- to
youth
teams, and this numbertwo
continues
grow.
In January 2014, Buffalo Fenians
GAA undertook the task of developing
and constructing a presentation to submit
to the Continental Youth Championship
committee. The goal was for Buffalo to be
the chosen city to host CYC 2017. It is a
Nancy
hasthat
been
selected
pleasure
to Hartung
inform you
Buffalo
Fenians
by
the
Daughters
of
Erin
to
receive
thethe
bid has been successful. Buffalo is now
Tara
Award,
the
highest
honor
given
to
official host city for CYC 2017.
a
member
of
the
organization.
She
will
This was a massive undertaking
for
the local
GAA club,
to helpSons
Buffalo
receive
the award
at theso,
Friendly
Fenians
wadeMarch
through
Dinner onGAA
Saturday,
2nd atthe
the bid
process,
at along
Buffalo
andher
Buffalo/
Buffalo University
Irish Center,
with
Niagara
Commission
offered
their
husband Sports
Lee Hartung
who will
receive
professional
advice
and
services.
UB
School
the Knights of Equity’s Irishman of the
of Management, led by Carrie Gardner,
Year Award. This is the first time a husinitiated an internship program for students
band and wife have received the awards
attending UB School of Management.
together. alongside volunteers from
Working
Padraic Walsh
grandsons and two great-great grandSecretary Buffalo Fenians
daughters.
GAA
He is a long time member of the
Knights of Equity and currently serves
as Court 5 Recording Secretary. He held
the post of Guard for the organization
and along with his wife Nancy, hosts the
annual Stag and Doe Picnic every fall
as they open their beautiful home and
grounds to the Knights and Daughters.
Lee has been a registered Boy Scout
for over 40 years currently serving as
Assistant Scout Master of Troop 230 at
Nativity Church in Orchard Park. He received the highly regarded Scouter of the
Year Award in 1980 and is also a member
of the Order of the Arrow and served as
canoe instructor and guide for the troop.
He has been a member of Nativity
Church in Orchard Park for 63 years
and is still active serving as a Eucharistic Minister (Lee was in the First Class
in the Diocese of Buffalo in the early
1970’s), an usher and affiliated with
the St. Vincent de Paul Conference at
Nativity. Lee and Nancy received the
prestigious St. Joseph the Worker Award
in 1998.
years, serving as Past Grand Knight of
the Bishop Burke Council and the First
and Past Navigator of the Msgr. Leo J.
Toomey Assembly, of which he is very
proud as he is a distant relative to the
late Msgr. Toomey. He also has held
many offices in the organization and
served on the Masters Staff as District
Marshall for the 4th and 6th New York
Districts. The Hartungs also belong to
the Senior Knights of Columbus Bishop
Burke Council and host the annual summer picnic at their Orchard Park home.
Lee received the distinguished Knight of
the Year Award from the Bishop Burke
Council and the Top Recruiter Award in
1991. He currently serves as a Trustee.
that came to the US to volunteer as counselors at Green Lake Girl Scout camp.
The Hartungs were invited to Austria to
attend the wedding of one of the girls and
Nancy made her wedding cake. While
overseas, they visited many of the girls
and their families.
Lee is currently still active with
Bishop Timon/St. Jude High school and
the Class of 1952, and he and Nancy
host their annual summer picnic. He is
the owner of antique automobiles and is
a member of the Antique Auto Club of
America (AACA) and the Vintage Chevrolet Club of America (VCCA). He loves
travelling, bowling and spending time
with family and friends.
Lee has been an active member of
In the 1990’s, Lee and Nancy
We congratulate LeeSports
on this most
Representatives
from
Buffalo
Fenians
GAA,
UBstudents
Schoolfrom
of Management,
Buffalo/Niagara
the Knights of Columbus for over 45
hosted nine
college
Europe deserving
honor.
Commission, Amherst Gaelic League, CYC Committee, and Assemblyman Michael Kearns, before
the official CYC presentation. Buffalo, April 2014.
Nancy Hartung to Receive Tara Award
Nancy is one of two daughters and
two sons of the late Cornelius and Anne
(Lynch) Riordan of South Buffalo. She
attended St. Monica’s grade school and
Mt. Mercy Academy, graduating in the
Class of 1952. Nancy and Lee Hartung
married in St. Monica’s Church on October 1, 1955 and were blessed with eight
children, two still living, Janet (Don)
Kill and Nadine (Jim) Ormond. She is
the proud grandmother of eight granddaughters,
great-granddaughters,
Logo © Johnthree
Kennedy
two great-grandsons and two great-great
granddaughters.
She has been a member of the Daughters of Erin for many years, serving as a
trustee, chair of the telephone committee, and host of the annual Knights of
Equity and Daughters of Erin Stag and
Doe picnic, where she and Lee open their
beautiful home and grounds for a delightful picnic each September. Nancy is also
a member of the Ladies of Kincora and
(Signature
Art)
the Ladies w of Hibernians.
She isSign
still
very active at her alma mater, Mt. Mercy
Buffalo Fenians GAA, with advice from
Academy, serving on the Alumnae board
Buffalo/Niagara Sports Commission, the
for
50 years
and a past
UBover
interns
constructed
and President.
developed the
In
2002,
she
received
the
successful bid presentation.distinguished
Members of the
Spirit
Mercy Award
livingGAA,
her life
intern of
program,
Buffalofor
Fenians
and
through
her spiritSports
of compassion,
loyalty
Buffalo/Niagara
Commission
made
and
She has
a member
of
the service.
presentation
in been
person
to committee
membersChurch
from CYC
in AprilPark
2014.
Nativity
in Orchard
for
years and
Afteris amonths
of Minister,
deliberating,
56
Eucharistic
the
CYC
committee
recently
informed
Minister to the Sick, Lector and conducts
Buffalo
Fenians
GAA
that
its
bid
host
a monthly Communion Service at a to
local
CYC
2017
was
successful.
Buffalo
Fenians
retirement facility. She has served on
GAA, UB, and Buffalo/Niagara Sports
the Parish Council, where she currently
Commission are delighted with the result.
is a Trustee, past Chair of the Liturgy
Buffalo Fenians bid was one of many bids
Committee,
pastother
President
Altarclubs
submitted from
cities of
andtheGAA
and
Rosary
Society,
serving
as
Secretary/
from throughout the United States and
Trustee
Canada.until it’s dissolution in 2012.
Buffalo IrIsh TImes
GaelIc-amerIcan aThleTIc assocIaTIon
245 aBBoTT road
Buffalo, nY 14220-1305
Buffalo Irish Times -
1
- December Edition 2014
What does this mean for Buffalo?
It is estimated that CYC 2017 will see up
to 18,000 people, including families and
athletes, descend into Buffalo for CYC
2017. also
Hotels
in the
will be
full of
Nancy
served
as aarea
religious
educatraveling families and athletes through the
tion volunteer, Parish Bereavement Comduration of the games. Hosting CYC 2017,
mittee and Meals on Wheels. She and her
Buffalo will be placed center stage within
husband
Lee received
esteemed
St.
the international
Gaelicthe
Games
community
Joseph
the Worker Award in 1998.
and beyond.
Buffalo
Fenians
would
like to
Among
her other
activities,
Nancy
this
opportunity
to Eleanor
thank theRoosfollowing
istake
Past
President
of the
people
for all their
helpofand
dedication
evelt
Democratic
Club
Orchard
Park, by
assisting
our
club
in
obtaining
the
status
of
an election inspector for the Town of
host city for CYC 2017. In no particular
Orchard Park and also the school system,
order: Assemblyman Michael Kearns;
Citizen of the Week in Orchard Park in
Chuck Giglia (Buffalo/Niagara Sports
1997,
and currently
a member
of
Commission);
Carrieremains
Gardner
(UB School
the
Auto Club
of America
and(UB
of Antique
Management);
Keith
Fernandes
the
Vintage
Chevrolet
Club
of
America.
Intern); John Staudt (UB Intern); Venkata
Miriyapalli
Padraic
Walsh
Nancy has(UB
beenIntern);
a registered
member
(Buffalo
Fenians
GAA);
Paul
Mulcaire
of the Girl Scouts of America for over 50
(Buffalo Fenians GAA); AJ Gottschalk
years, having received three awards – the
(Buffalo Fenians GAA); John Kennedy
Green Angel Award, the Council Award
(Signature Sign Art); Bill Cleary (Amherst
for
Volunteerism
the McCarthy
Thanks Badge
Gaelic
League);and
Paul
(CYC
which
is the highest
award Gillespie
given to a(CYC
Committee);
and Simon
volunteer.
In the 1990’s, the Hartungs
Committee).
were hostBuffalo
to nine college
Feniansstudents
would from
like to
overseas
who
came
to
the
US
take this opportunity to wish toallvolunour club
members,
coaches,atplayers,
and Green
parents of
teer
as counselors
Girl Scout
our youth
a very
Happy and
Safe
Christmas.
Lake
Camp
in Orchard
Park.
They
were
We look
making
more
invited
to forward
Europe totothe
wedding
of history
one
with
2015.
Without
of
theyou
girlsinfrom
Austria
and the
... dedication
of all our volunteers, Buffalo Fenians GAA
could never be the success
it is today.
conTInued
on pG 2
Valley “Old Neighborhood”
St. Patrick’s Day Parade
Scheduled for March 14th
Proud of Being
IRISH &
CATHOLIC
Join The
ANCIENT
ORDER of
HIBERNIANS
Call John Murphy
716-472-5711
The Valley Community Association’s
signature event – the 22ndAnnual “Old
Neighborhood” St. Patrick’s Day Parade –
will kick off on Saturday, March 14th, 2015 at
12 Noon from the Valley Community Center.
The parade will wind through the streets
of the historic Buffalo River Community
including South Park Avenue, Smith Street,
Elk Street, Hamburg Street, and O’Connell
Avenue. Over 100 marching units are anticipated
to participate this year, making the “Old
Neighborhood” St. Patrick’s Day Parade just
as large as the downtown edition!! Marching
contingents will include marching bands,
clowns, community floats, social clubs,
classic cars, Irish dancers, family clans,
sports groups, fire and police departments,
and much more!! New groups are welcome to march and
registration forms will be available after
February 1st, 2015 by calling 716-823-4707
ext.4. Previous parade participants will
receive registration forms in the mail at the
end of January.
Immediately following the parade is the
traditional grand Irish “Hooley” featuring
live music as well as plenty of food and
drink. The “Hooley” runs from 1pm-6pm at
the Valley Community Center, located at 93
Leddy Street, Buffalo, New York.
The Hooley serves as a fundraiser for the
Valley Community Association’s services
and programs, which include affordable
child care that is nurturing, educational,
and stimulating for children ages 6 weeks
and up; academic, social, and recreational
programming for school age youth;
programs and services for senior citizens
that promote socialization and wellness;
family support services including a food and
clothing pantry, resume preparation, job
search assistance, and help navigating the
human service system; community events
such as the Buffalo River Fest and the “Old
Neighborhood” St. Patrick’s Day Parade;
and neighborhood beautification projects
such as the Buffalo River Fest Park, Mutual
Riverfront Park, and Valley Nature Park &
Habitat Trail. For more information regarding any
of the Valley Community Association’s St.
Patrick’s Day activities contact Lori at 716823-4707 ext. 4, visit www.thevalleycenter.
com, or “like” the Valley Community Center
on Facebook.
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Irish Gaelic Mythical Creatures
By Kevin Conroy
Is mise Caoimhín Mac Con Raoi agus beidh
mé ag scríobh anseo faoi ábhair a bhaineanns
leis an nGaeilge agus le cultúr Gaelach na
Gaeltachta... I am Kevin Conroy and I will
be writing here about Irish language topics
as well as Gaelic and Gaeltacht culture,
starting with mythology and folklore. Ireland
possesses one of oldest vernacular literary
traditions in Europe (behind only Latin and
Greek). Irish mythology is especially rich,
being the most extensive and best preserved
in the Celtic tradition. In addition to the
ancient tales of the Mythological, Ulster (/Red
Branch), Fenian, and Historical Cycles, the
oral folklore tradition is also significant.
In fact, the oral tradition of storytelling
persisted in the Irish Gaelic (Gaeilge in Irish)
speaking districts well into the 20th century.
Folklorists from all over Europe came to
hear some of the last remaining storytellers
(seanchaithe “shanachies” in Irish) of the
medieval tradition. A substantial portion of
the Gaelic folk tradition did not survive the
language shift to English, and therefore,
much is hidden from those who do not know
Gaeilge well. In the hope that Irish-Americans
will be interested in the folk traditions of
their ancestors, I will begin here with an
introduction to some Irish/Gaelic mythical
creatures – most of which are shared by
both the Irish and Scottish Gaelic traditions.
Some aspects of these may be familiar from
the Anglo-Irish tradition, but others are more
“exotic.” We will look at the each uisce (water
horse/kelpie), maighdean mhara (mermaid/
selkie), and bean sí (banshee). I will explain
the native name(s), give some cultural
information, and reference some traditional
songs etc. that feature these creatures.
•Each uisce “horse of water”. Other names:
kelpie, water horse, each uisge (Scottish
Gaelic), ceffyl dŵr (Welsh), cabbyl-ushtey
or glashtin (Manx Gaelic).
As you can see the water horse has many
names in the Celtic tradition. Its primary
name in the Irish language is each uisce.
Each is the old word for ‘horse’ (only
used in folkloric contexts in Ireland, but
which remains the normal word for horse
in Scotland), c.f. Latin equus that give us
‘equine’ in English. Capall is the basic
Modern Irish word for horse, and this is
somehow connected to French cheval
and Spanish caballo, which both derive
from Vulgar Latin caballus ‘nag, horse of
poor quality, pack-horse,’ which itself is
possibly a loanword from the Gaulish (an
ancient Celtic language spoken in France
prior to the Roman invasion) caballos.
Uisce means ‘water’ in Irish and is the
source of the English word ‘whisk(e)y’ –
from uisce beatha ‘water of live,’ a calque
on Latin aqua vitae.
Although this creature appears widely in Celtic
lore, it is especially associated with Scotland.
The river-dwelling Lowland Scottish kelpie is
sometimes distinguished from the lake- and
ocean-dwelling Irish/Scottish Gaelic waterhorse. The term ‘kelpie’ derives from Scottish
Gaelic calpa(ch) or colpach meaning ‘heifer’
or ‘colt.’ Whichever type, the water horse
usually appears as a beautiful (often black)
horse. It may sometimes have webbed feet.
Were someone foolish enough to sit up upon
this horse, he would be stuck to the horse’s
back as soon as it neared water. The each uisce
would race to the water, dive in, and drown
the rider. In some stories the eich uisce would
devour those they encountered – leaving only
the victims’ entrails behind as evidence to
what had occurred. Water horses are shapeshifters and can also appear in the form of
a handsome man who lure young women to
their demise.
My favorite Gaelic singer, Julie Fowlis from
blond tresses.)
• Bean Sí “woman of the fairy mound,”
banshee
Uibhist a Tuath (North Uist) in the Scottish
Hebrides, sings a traditional song about a
girl pleading with an each uisge to allow her
to return home safe and sound – it is called
A Ghaoil, Leig Dhachaigh gum Mhàthair mi
(Oh my Love, Let me Home to my Mother).
Here the water horse seems to appear in
the form of a man, whom a girl encounters
while she is tending her family’s cattle in the
summer pasture. Despite him promising to
give her many gifts, she asks to be allowed
to return home unharmed and warns that her
parents will chastise him, but that marbhaidh
mo thriùir bhràithrean thu, mura tèid mi
dhachaigh mar thàini’ mi (my three brothers
will kill you if I don’t return home as I came).
You can find this and the other songs I mention
here on YouTube. I encourage you to give
them a listen.
•Maighdean Mhara “maiden of (the) sea,”
mermaid
The mermaid is of course not unique to the
Celtic tradition, but the Gaels do certainly do
have their own unique version of it. The normal
Irish term is maighdean mhara; maighdean
means ‘maiden’ and mhara is from mara,
the genitive case of muir, meaning ‘of (the)
sea.’ The Gaelic mermaid is typically a shapeshifting human/seal. However, maighdean
mhara may also refer to a half-woman halffish creature; murúch is the term used for this
type of mermaid in Munster Irish. Especially
in reference to the Scottish tradition, the term
selkie is used in English. This is a term from
Scots based on the Old English word seolh
‘seal’. Oftentimes these Gaelic mermaids are
described as shape-shifters who can change
their appearance to many forms – they are not
simply half-human and half-seal. In the Gaelic
(and Faroese) tradition people may be turned
into seals (an vice versa?). These seals may
caste off their seal-skins at certain times of
the year, transforming into beautiful women
(hence the Irish name “maiden of the sea”).
If a person takes the maighdean mhara’s sealskin she will remain in her human form (and
often marry the man who steals and hides her
seal-skin), but will transform back into a seal
if she rediscovers her seal-skin.
and is compelled to return to the sea, leaving
her family behind: “Maighdean mhara mo
mháithrín ard,” Siúd chugaibh Máire Chinnidh
is í i ndiaidh an Éirne a shámh (“My noble
mother is a mermaid,” Here’s to ye, Mary
Kenny, having swum the Erne). You can hear
this song sung by groups such as Altan and
Clannad. The Gaelic mermaid/selkie creature
also appears in the Irish movie The Secret of
Roan Inish. “Roan Inish” means “Seal Island”
as it derivess from Irish rón ‘seal’ and inis
‘island.’ (It should more properly be written
as one word since it is a compound word –
Róninis / Roaninish.)
In the Scottish tradition, Julie Fowlis has a
song on her new album Gach Sgeul about a
seal who was once a human. In the notes on
the song Julie tells about the local Hebridean
belief that some seals were the children of
the King of Norway who had been cursed to
live as seals. (After memories of the Viking
invasions had lessened, Norway/Scandinavia
became a mystical place in the Gaelic tradition
where the sons of Irish/Scottish kings went to
have adventures). In this song, entitled An Ròn
(The Seal), the seal/mermaid explains:
Mise nighean Rìgh-fo-Thuinn
… Chaidh na geasan a chur
oirnn, Rè ar beò-bhith le luchdfuath … Aig tràth-marbh air
oidhche fèill, Tilgidh sinn ar
bèin air tràigh, ‘S cluichidh
sinn nar n-òighean suairc’, A’
crathadh ar cuailean bàn
(I am the daughter of the Kingunder-Sea … Spells were laid
upon us during our human lives
by foes … At the dead of feastday night, we cast our seal-skins
on the beach, playing there as
gentle maidens, shaking our
An similar figure from the Gaelic tradition in
Scotland is the bean nighe ‘washerwoman.’
This type of bean sí could be seen washing the
bloody clothing (typically at a ford) of a person
who was about to die. There are many similar
figures in early Irish mythology, including the
Morrígan (either Morrígan “phantom queen”
or Mórrígan “great queen” in Old Irish;
Modern Irish spelling Mor-ríoghain or Mórríoghain) who was originally a Celtic goddess
of battle/war and sovereignty. She has many
roles in the Ulster Cycle of tales, including an
appearance as a hag washing Cú Chulainn’s
bloody armor at a ford, an ill-omen foretelling
his death. The Morrígan is sometimes
conflated with her sister Badb (Mod. Irish
Badhbh), who was a goddess of war. Both
the Morrígan and Badb frequently appear in
stories in the form of a crow, flying over the
battle. Indeed, badb/badhbh is an Irish word
for the hooded crow (which is a close relative
of the carrion crow, but is half-gray and halfblack; the usual name for it in Mod. Irish is
now feannóg). The crow-goddesses of war
could effect the outcome of battles and their
shrieking (or washing of bloody clothes...or
mere appearance) often signaled the upcoming
violent death of a notable character. Badhbh
chaointe (“keening crow”) is another Irish
name for the banshee. In more modern tales,
the banshee assumes some of the roles of both
the Morrígan and Badb, being a foreteller of
death.
That’s all for now – I will continue another
time with the numerous Irish words for
“fairies,” as well as changelings, leprechauns,
hags, and others. Slán go fóilleach!
ANDY’S
DRIVING
SCHOOL
5 HOUR PRE-LICENSING COURSE
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There are numerous tales and songs featuring
this creature. The common Irish song An
Mhaighdean Mhara is about one such
mermaid who marries the man who has
hidden her seal-skin. It is a sad conversation
between mother (i.e. the mermaid) and her
daughter. The mother finds her seal-skin again
Banshee is no more than the anglicization of
the Irish bean sí (which sounds close to, but
somewhat different from, the English version).
The Irish term simply means “woman of the
fairy mound”. Bean (plural mná, which you
may encounter on signs for the women’s
bathroom in Irish pubs) is the Irish word for
woman and sí means ‘fairy mound, barrow,
tumulus.’ The English term ‘banshee’ is
especially narrow, referring more specifically
to the bean sí whose wailing marks impending
death. The banshee may appear as an ugly
hag or a beautiful young woman. She also
sometimes appears in animal form. The bean
sí is a common figure in the Irish landscape,
in fact, the Irish name for the plant we call a
cattail is coigeal na mban sí “distaff (a tool
used in spinning flax/wool) of the women of
the fairymound.” Other more neutral terms for
a female fairy include bansióg and síbhean.
An associated tradition to the banshee is
‘keening’ (from Irish caoineadh ‘weeping,
lamenting, crying...’), which is a ritualized
lamentation over a corpse. Indeed in some
regions of Ireland the bean sí was also called
the bean chaointe ‘keening woman.’ Keening
was an actual practice that (human) women
performed in Ireland and Scotland that
was suppressed (rather unsuccessfully) for
centuries by Christian churches.
Cardinal O’Hara H.S.
Andy Moynihan
874-1653
39 O’Hara Rd., Tonawanda, NY 14150
3
A Wish From Ireland
Hello Michael,
I wanted to get this letter off to
you as quickly as possible while memories are
fresh in my mind about what happened to me in
Ireland and because of the time involved in the
“wish” described below. But first, I would like
you to visit Ireland sometime in the future, maybe
see the places where your family had lived many
years ago, and bring back with you many stories
and memories of Ireland. I was given the same
invitation many years ago by my grandfather who
was unable to return to his own birth place. If you
plan to do this and can be convinced that your
discovery of Ireland may have been planned for
you many years ago by people you never met, if
you look upon your visit and take it all in with a
sense of belief that skeptics rarely have experienced
(Michael, I think that you’re that kind of believing
person.), and if you believe, even a little bit, in the
little people and in the power of the place you may
someday visit, then you are the perfect candidate
for what I, with this letter, am planning to do for
you. Remember that the truth and power of Ireland
is the product of a long process of events evolving
from stories and myth making their way in a real
way into the hearts and minds of only certain
people, like yourself Michael, who will see that
behind the places and stories of Ireland, that there
is another purpose, another world going on about
you, of which you will become part and which you
will carry back with you and give to whomever
you wish. If this is true, then I would like you to do
exactly that for me in return for my wish for you.
Now to the purpose of this letter, a great
deal of fact, a little bit of fiction, and even some
fantasy. It all started during my recent visit to
Ireland as innocently as possible. We were making
our way down the Connemara/Galway road
near Moycullen toward Galway early on a gusty
morning, when we came upon the Spring of Saint
Bridget on the right side of the road about thirty
feet from the road. A little pool of water collected
beneath of statue of St. Bridget which was set on a
rocky edge with water dripping off into the water
pool below. Around the pool was a stone wall
about one foot high and smooth on top while every
other wall in the area had jagged stones wedged
on top to prevent visitors and animals from sitting
on them or crossing over them. Yet, if a visitor did
sit on this wall he or she was sure to get wet feet
from the water of the pool. I asked myself why the
sitting wall was so short? Was it for real people or
maybe for little people? The thought ran through
my head. Some of my companions went over to
the spring and filled their bottles with the water.
I did too using a plastic bottle, about 3 inches
of water. The water was cold and sweet tasting.
Some thought it had hidden power to heal, all very
catholic. The place is well known by the people
around the area I was told. I guess they use the
water to drink, cool off, and even to heal.
We continued down the road as the wind
really began to pick up. Then to my surprise about
two miles down the road, the van came to a sudden
stop as the driver pulled over to the right side of the
road. He hollered out, “Look, seven white horses.”
Across the road behind a fence were seven white
horses all standing side by side with their heads
together in perfect formation looking right at the
van.
I was told to make a wish and it will be
granted with seven as the number that controlled
when the wish would be granted. I thought this
was a little hard to believe, …. a skeptic. I got out
of the van and walked across the road up to my
side of the fence as the seven white horses watched
me. Not a movement. Not a sound from them. I
waited to see what they would do. Nothing. I still
had the St. Bridget’s spring water in my pocket so
I threw the water into the air to get a rise out of
them. The wind picked up the water and threw it
into the face of the seven white horses. All of them
got splashed, dripping with water. Their heads flew
up, nostrils wide open, and eyes glaring at me as
they screamed with fright. I stepped back fearing
they would crash through the fence and charge me.
In one movement they threw themselves backward
and turned away from me in one motion, like it
was rehearsed. They all charged back across the
field kicking up the dirt behind them in huge
clumps flying in the air.
Half way across the field, the big white
horse in the middle, turned around toward me and
faced me with his head lowered, ears straight back,
nostrils flared out, and eyes looking right at me.
And then the unbelievable happened, especially to
a skeptic. And don’t laugh! I heard the horse say
inside me, “Because you did this to us, you will
never be given the power of the wish of the seven
white horses nor will you ever get an answer to any
wish you may make.” It was obvious to me that he
was mad at me for what I had done to the seven
of them. I thought to myself that I didn’t mean to
splash them, that it was the wind. The other horses
soon joined him in the middle of the field. Looking
at them, I knew that something was wrong. They
all milled around the big middle horse. He soon
walked over to the fence nearest me and he said
inside me again that he could not take the power
of the wish of the seven white horses away from
me but that he could and would stop me from
receiving any answer or benefit from any wish I
might make. I had to give the power of the wish of
the seven white horses to someone else who could
use it.
When I got home from my visit to Ireland,
I didn’t feel as though I had the power of the wish
of the seven white horses and yet I was reluctant to
challenge what I was told because of my actions.
And even more, could I really give the power of the
wish to someone else? I do confess, however, that
I was looking for someone deserving. And then I
thought of you, Michael. You must be that special
person. So, I am giving you the power of the wish
of the seven white horses to make one wish. The
wish must be made with great care for the benefit
of yourself or for someone else. The answer from
your wish will be given to you around the number
seven, that is, in seven days, seven weeks, seven
months, or seven years. The power of the wish
is strong in your heart now, Michael, so use it as
quickly as possible.
So, it is now up to you to use it wisely. Let me
know how it all turned out. I hope you have good
luck with it, some day have an experience like I
had in Ireland, and find in Ireland the fun and fancy
of the place from which your great grandparents
came. Best wishes, God bless you always,
Paul Sullivan, your grandfather
BUFFALO IRISH
GENEALOGICAL
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2014 IN THE
MEETINGS
GAAA Irish Library of the
Buffalo Irish Center
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“…the magical journey to find my Irish
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IRELAND SPEAKS:
Poems From My Soul.”
Written, illustrated and published
by Donna M. Shine
$13.00 ($10 PLUS $3 POSTAGE) TO:
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4
Christmas Comes To Kevin Leary
by Joseph Xavier Martin
Kevin Leary was a bum. He wasn’t
a homeless person, nor an individual set
adrift by physical or mental difficulties,
he was just a plain and ordinary bum. He
didn’t work and he didn’t want to. He was
a small time pool hustler and an errand boy
for a number of local gangsters. He did
whatever they needed and he didn’t care
who got hurt in the process.
Kevin wasn’t always that way of
course. Once, he had been an altar boy,
at St. John the Evangelist Church, and
the pride of Mrs. Margaret Mary Leary
of Cazenovia St. The family lived in
South Buffalo, a working class section of
Buffalo, New York. Margaret Mary Leary
had hopes that young Kevin would go on
to the Seminary and become a grand priest
with the Jesuits Fathers. She prayed for the
vocation in a thousand Novenas.
But, growing up in a tough section
of a big city can do things to people. Kevin
ran with a rough crowd that became more
brazen as they grew older. Petty theft
and small time burglaries graduated into
hijacking trailers, mugging tourists and
running numbers for the local mob. No one
planned it that way, it’s just that it seemed
easier for him to flow with the tide. Books,
education and all of that stuff were for
suckers.
As the years passed, Kevin grew
through his teen years and early twenties
into a thief, hustler and small time
hoodlum. Margaret Mary Leary seemed to
shrink under the burden of Kevin’s failed
promise, until she became old, beaten down
and weary with life. Kevin rarely saw his
Mother these days. It was too painful for
both of them.
Usually around the Christmas
Holidays, Kevin would make some small
attempt to stop by the house, but it always
ended in her tears and an argument. The
dark and inviting embrace, of a nearby
tavern, usually summoned Kevin after
one of these meetings. The alcohol was
a numbing absolution that brought a
welcoming oblivion from the annoyances
of the day.
And now here Kevin sat, on
Christmas Eve, in Riley’s Saloon on Seneca
Street. He was well into his fourth “shooter
& a booter.” This is the local name for a
shot of rye whiskey and a beer chaser. There
were plenty of others at the bar sharing
Kevin’s sodden euphoria. Christmas did
that to some people. It flooded them with
a tidal wave of emotions that made them
uneasy. The only way to stem the tide
was to meet it with another one, this one
of alcohol. It usually accomplished the
mission, although the next day after-effects
would be both considerable and prolonged.
No one, at first, noticed the
bearded old man sitting by himself, on a
stool at the end of the bar. He didn’t say
anything to anybody; he just sat there
and stared into the mirror behind the bar.
The mirror reflected the view of Seneca
Street through the tavern window, and thus
provided a continuous tableau of the street
activity occurring outside.
It was only slowly that Kevin
noticed the images changing in the mirror
behind the bar. They seemed brighter than
the view from the tavern window. The cars
looked older and the children, passing by,
looked younger and happier. At first, Kevin
thought that it was the alcohol that made
him reflect boozily on the images of times
past, as they slowly unfolded before him
in the mirror. But no, some few of the
other revelers were watching the mirror as
warily as he.
The images changed slowly, like a
calendar going backward. First one day at a
time, then a week and then several months
flew by in a kaleidoscope of memories that
had a dizzying effect on the watchers.
Kevin saw pictures of a family
around the Christmas tree in a small flat that
looked disturbingly familiar. The husband
and wife were in their early twenties. Three
very small children were happily immersed
in unwrapping their new toys. The children
didn’t see that the man and woman had
nothing for themselves. The parents had, as
usual, given all to their children. That was
their Christmas present. They were happy
though. The warmth of their smiles, and
their obvious affection for each other and
the children, was warmer than the glow
that any fire could possibly bring.
The next scene was that of the man
and woman sitting up late at night caring for
a sick and very cranky child. The look of
worry on their faces was heart wrenching.
They were afraid for the boy. Next came an
array of scenes that showed the father hard
at work at many jobs. He worked long and
hard to provide for his family. The woman,
too, labored at many tasks to care for the
children as they grew. Both were selfless
in their care of the children. They had very
little for themselves, except each other.
As the flood of images continued,
Kevin became more and more uneasy.
The faces of the husband and wife were
becoming more recognizable. The faces of
the children looked familiar as well.
As hard hearted as Kevin had
become, he still softened as he watched
the continuing sacrifices of a family that
loved and cared for each other. Slowly,
ever so slowly, the images sharpened into
focus. Kevin saw, with a shock, that it was
his own father, mother and siblings that
were being reflected in the bar room mirror.
What witchery was this? Then, the images
faded and the dingy present returned.
Just down the line of bar stools,
the little old man got down from his perch
and walked slowly towards the exit. He
had an enigmatic smile on his face. As
he reached the door, he turned and said
something odd. He said “There is still time,
Kevin. There is still time.” And with that
he walked out and into the night.
“What the hell did he mean by
that?” Kevin wondered. And, how did he
know my name?
Things were becoming very
confusing for Kevin. He was not really
sure of what he had just seen. Imagination?
Too many shooters? What did the old man
mean by, “There is still time”, time for
what?
But, as Kevin sat at the bar,
he remembered. He remembered all of
the Christmases that his parents had
made wonderful for him. With a pang
of conscience, he realized that, like the
images in the mirror, he didn’t know
whether his own parents had ever gotten
anything for themselves. Maybe they, too,
had given everything for their children.
And what about the time when he was
sick with scarlet fever? Hadn’t Mom and
Dad sat up many a night with him, like the
mirror people? He wondered how many
things that his parents had gone without
so that he and his brothers could have nice
things. And they never complained about
it, not once, ever. Kevin was beginning
to become very uneasy with himself. His
mother had loved and cared for him all of
those years and he had broken her heart.
Kevin wondered if there really was
still time? What if he were to go back over
to his mother’s place and make a very nice
Christmas for her. It would make her very
happy. The florist, on the corner of Buffum
Street, was still open. And, he knew that
he could get a present for her somewhere.
There really was still time, wasn’ t there?
And maybe, maybe he could
begin to change. Maybe it wasn’t too late
to make something of himself, something
that his mother would be proud of. Maybe
the little old man was right. Kevin now
wished that he knew who the old man was,
so that he could thank him.
Outside, the small, round, bearded
old man climbed into his horse driven
sled and drove off in the falling snow. The
unusual sight of horses in the city and the
merry jingling of their reigns, brought
smiles to onlookers. As the sled rounded
the corner of Zittel St., it seemed to rise
slightly. Or, so it looked from several
blocks away in the falling snow. And later,
some even claimed that they had heard the
words “On, Donder! “ and “ On, Dancer !”
echoing through the clear night air.
Inside the tavern, Christmas
had come to Kevin Leary.
IRISH CULTURE
& FOLK ART
ASSOCIATION OF BUFFALO, NY INC.
SPONSOR OF
THE ANNUAL
BUFFALO FEIS
All interested in our
Irish Heritage are welcome.
MEETINGS:
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For Information, Call
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www.buffalofeis.org
5
IRELAND
ly Cross Cemetery,
LAMPOONED US 36 L
Lackawanna, NY:
ANCESTRA
Queries
Ardmayle Cemetery, Tipperary, Revisited
By: Donna M. Shine Peggy Chmielewski c/o Donna M
of Ireland-born Burials “F-G”
SCANLON/
COSTELLO:
Shine, [email protected]
[email protected]
@
m
Leaving Hore Abby beyond the Rock
of Cashel, James and I meticulously
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DUIGNAN:
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Local news reported that Cork had
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were made as entries stated. 1828, emigrated during the potato York / New Jersey. Please contact
for All-Ireland Ladies Football
and lived in Buffalo until
RISH TIMES starting
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Holyof famine,
and Valery
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was onone
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James Lawson genealogistjim@yahis
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then and told me his mother’s emigrated
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Box 78, Felton, CA 95018. Railroad Bus & Trolly, retiring after
out of B&B. I simply had to visit Ardmayle slow moving “HOLDEN: truck and rentals”
email: [email protected]. 45 years from NFTA in 1950. BeCemetery one last time before we continued truck that simply put on his yellow lights
phone: (831) 229-0146.
fore the
& Trolly,
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Place of Memories, who inquired as
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visit. Pat explained how the family
name
more information,
old barns,please
buildings,
and
b. 1848
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In Remembrance: Robert F. Kelly
Robert Francis Kelly, 73, of Clarence, N.Y., died
on October 30, 2014, after courageously battling
the effects of a stroke. He was the beloved
husband of Arlene C. (nee Kopcinski) Kelly to
whom he was married for 49 years.
Born Oct. 19, 1941, in Buffalo, NY, he was
the son of the late Frank J. and Maxine (nee
Keiser) Kelly. He was a graduate of St. Mark’s
School and Bishop Fallon High School in 1959,
attended Niagara University and received a BS
degree in Economics from SUNY at Buffalo
in 1973. He was a lifelong athlete, excelling at
baseball, basketball and track in high school and
continuing those activities for many years. Golf
was his choice of sport in recent years. His interests included gardening and the
landscaping, with Arlene, of their prize-winning
property dubbed “Kelly Park” in Clarence, NY.
He enjoyed studying antique furniture and was
an accomplished woodworker reproducing
antique pieces, particularly those of the Shaker
communities. His volunteer work included
providing rides for senior and disabled citizens
through Rural Transit Service.
Bob had the gift of seeing humor in all situations
and was known for his quick wit, perfect comic
timing, and impeccable delivery. Good times and
laughter followed wherever he was. On one of
his trips to Ireland, he ordered a B&B following a
lovely dinner in Waterford. The accommodating
waiter returned with reservations at a local Bed
& Breakfast, only to learn that the B&B that
Bob was wanting was the liqueur Brandy and
Benedictine. Humor in the world has decreased
an appreciable amount with his passing. RHOADES/
McMAHON:
In addition to his wife, Bob is survived by their
devoted and much loved children: Frank J. II,
Mark V. (Betty), Christopher M., and Caitlin S.
(Michael Barry). He was the loving “Grandpa”
of Kasia Barry and Sarah Kelly. He was a dearest brother to a sister, Elaine Pease
(William), and two brothers, James (Marilyn)
and Gerard (Helen Marie).
He will be sincerely missed by his myriad of
friends, some of whom date back more than 60
years.
In a last act of generosity, he has given his body
to the Medical School at SUNY at Buffalo.
He was employed by State Farm Insurance Contributions in his memory may be made to
Company from 1969 until his retirement in 2005. Doctors Without Borders. William D. Mahoney
died, October 25, 2014, of Cheektowaga, NY,
beloved husband of Madonna J. (May); loving
father of Cheryl (Tom) Cardoza, Brien, Sean,
Kelly (Richard) McClain, Keith and Erin
(Brebt) Hardage; cherished grandfather of
eight grandchildren; brother of Michael (Joan)
and the late Patrick Mahoney; survived by
l War Hero Patrick O’Rorke
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He served in the US Army in 1963 and in the
reserves until 1969.
nieces and nephews. A liturgy was said at the
Kazmierczak Funeral Home in West Seneca.
Entombment was at Holy Sepulchre Cemetery.
Flowers were declined with donations
requested for the American Cancer Society. Bill
was a U.S. Air Froce veteran and past president
of the Buffalo Irish Genealogical Society.
GAAA IRISH LIBRARY:
FREE genealogical research assistance!
As of January 2015, the GAAA Irish Library,
OPEN TO THE GENERAL PUBLIC, will
be accessed for Irish research, excluding
genealogy, October thru the end of June,
by appointment only. The library is located
inside the BUFFALO IRISH CENTER, 245
Abbott Rd, Buffalo, NY 14220. (Stay tuned
to WBEN 930 AM for snow or emergency
closings. If the Buffalo Irish Center closes,
so goes the library.)
For individual appointments please call:
Mary C. Murphy (716) 834-4965 or Donna
M. Shine (716) 662-1164 or email Diane
Blaser at [email protected] .
It has become necessary for the Buffalo
Irish Genealogical Society to move their
3,500 book genealogical collection to a
single satellite location within the Heritage
Discovery Center (HDC) Library, 100 Lee
St, 1.5 miles away towards the city. It is at
this location that genealogical research will
be conducted by volunteer genealogists,
currently for BIGS members only.
Scoil Cultur
Na Heireann
(SCHOOL OF IRISH CULTURE)
WEDNESDAYS
6:30pm - 9:30pm
at the buffalo irish center library
Beginner • Intermediate • Advanced
Call Margaret McGrath
716-674-8569
MAY-JUNE 2013 • BUFFALO
IRISHIrish
TIMES
9 Buffalo
Times
6
McCarthy School of
Irish Dance
QUERIES
BREEN:
Looking for the Descendants
of Patrick BREEN b 20 Feb 1906 in
Cloonlaheen, Miltown Malbay, Count
Clare. Immigrated through Boston, MA
18 Nov 1928. In 1930 he lived on Carmel
Road, Buffalo with cousin, Martin DILLON.
Married circa 1941 Ruth ? had two children,
Kevin and Catherine.lived at 2289 Seneca
Street, NY1941. Worked on the NYCRR
BREEN cousins in Miltown Malbay, Co
Clare would like to find American cousins.
Please contact: Kevin J O’Brien by email at
killernanfarm@gmailcom
CARR / COSGROVE / DRAY / MOONEY
/ WILSON: Researching these family
surnames. Please contact Monica & Glenn
Lazarus: [email protected]
DALY (DALEY) / KELLEY / PRATT /
ROCHE / WYBRANTS / MEEHANS:
Looking for information on Lawrence DALY
b. Mar 1850 in Ireland and d. 12 Oct 1901
at 178 Smith St in Buffalo. His wife, Mary
KELLEY b. 5 Mar 1851 in Ireland and d.
7 Aug 1927, was the daughter of Fergus
KELLEY (possibly of Spokane, Washington)
and Katherine ROCHE. The son of Lawrence
& Mary DALY, Dennis F. DALY Sr (Apr
1874 – 10 May 1940) married Ellen PRATT
(b. Abt 1878 – 6 Jul 1916). If you have any
information on these families, please contact
Colleen DALEY by email: c2daley@yahoo.
com
CULLINY / CULLINEY / READLING:
Looking for any information on the
READLING family of Cheektowaga, NY.
In the 1900 US Census, Henry READLING
aged 34, b. Sep 1866 in NY and so were both
his parents, was a farmer; his wife Caroline
A. (possibly nee CULLINY/CULLINEY)
was aged 41, b. Sep 1859 in NY and both
parents were born in Ireland, had one child:
Joseph READLING aged 4, b. Apr 1896
in NY. A Philip KLEIN, servant, aged 27,
b. Jun 1873, was living with them working
as a farm laborer. If anyone knows what
happened to this family, especially Caroline,
please contact researcher: Donna M Shine by
Phone: 716 662-1164 or Email: dmshine@
aol.com
WILES / O’CONNOR / FLAHAVE: Looking
for information on the parents of Thomas
WILES (b. 26 Apr 1867 in Tralee, Ireland and
d. 30 May 1936 in Kenmore, NY), married
26 Jan 1884 to Margaret O’CONNOR (b.
314 Dec 1856 in Tralee, Ireland and d. 6 Jan
1934 in Depew, NY-daughter of Michael
O’CONNOR and Margaret FLAHAVE). Any
information, please contact Mary Segelhurst
by Email: [email protected]
LINZA / STILES / HAYES / SKINNER:
Looking for information on the family of
Charles A. LINZA b. Sep 1872 and wife
Eunice Eleanor (nee STILES-parents:
Reuben STILES and Mary Isabelle, nee
HAYES, of Troupsburg, Steuben Co., NY).
Any information, please contact: Beth Bayba
by Email: [email protected]
HURLEY / SONNEKALB: Looking for any
information on James HURLEY b. 1872 in
Ireland who was a scooper, and wife Phoebe
(?), b. 1869 in Canada-French. Phoebe had
a son by another marriage, Fred McCOY b.
Abt 1898. James and Delia had a daughter,
Delia b. Abt. 1904 in Buffalo who in 1924
married Charles SONNEKALB b. Abt.
1981 in NY. Ay information, please contact
Brian LEIDOLF by Email: malenurse2158@
roadrunner.com
GRIFFIN / KENNEDY / HARTNETT /
O’DONNELL: Looking for information
on the families of: Andrew GRIFFIN-b.
1830 Ire, wife Margaret nee KENNEDY
b. 1832 Ire-1918 Buffalo, NY; their son
Patrick GRIFFIN-b.1862 Ire married Mae
nee HARTNETT-b. Ire-Abt. 1850 Buffalo;
Their son John GRIFFIN-b. 1899 in the Old
First Ward in Buffalo, NY, married Marie nee
O’DONNELL-b. 1903. Any information,
please contact Lana GRIFFIN by Email:
[email protected]
O’BRIEN: Looking descendants of Anthony
O’BRIEN born 1830 in Miltown Malbay,
County Clare, Ireland.
Immigrated to
Toronto, Canada circa 1850 married Mary
LYON 20 May 1855 in Toronto. Eleven
children were born to this family. Two
children born Canada then family moved
to Salamanca, NY where cousins, Margaret
O’BRIEN STAPELTON and Ellen O’BRIEN
LOONEY lived. Children moved to Buffalo,
lived on Buffum Street, Seneca Street,
Cumberland Avenue.
Many descendants
are in still in the Buffalo area. I have the
most complete genealogy on this family I
would like to share with O”BRIEN relations.
Please contact: Kevin J O’Brien by email at
killernanfarm@gmailcom
McCarthy School of Irish Dance sent 34 students to the Mid-Atlantic Regional
Oireachtas in Philadelphia, and 30 returned home with medals! Some highlights - a
world championship qualification for Shannon Graves in the senior ladies competition, a first place finish for Shannon Gestwick in the traditional set competition.
The U10 girls, in their first trip to the Oireachtas, placed 15th in their eight hand
and the U8’s placed 5th in their four hand.
O’BRIEN: Looking for the parents of Agnes
T. O’BRIEN b 1899 in New York; parents
born in Ireland; d 18 March 1983; Buried
in Holy Cross Cemetery; Married to John
McMahon of Coore, County Clare in 1920.
Children: Mary, John Edmond, Margaret,
Patricia, Joseph & James. Please contact:
Kevin J O’Brien by email at killernanfarm@
gmailcom
MORTON: Looking for information on
the family of Richard William (or Richard
William) MORTON and wife, Anna
KAISER. Perhaps born in Tonawanda, NY,
October 1, 1877 or 1879; brother Clarence
MORTON worked at Fort Erie Race Track
and later, New Orleans Race track, and died
and was buried there. Richard moved to
Rochester and Irondequoit, NY. Ancestors
are thought to come from County Cavan,
Ireland…possibly through Canada. Please
contact: Velera (MORTON) D’Esopo by
email: [email protected]
O’BRIEN/MORIARITY
Looking for
descendants of Patrick O’BRIEN and Ellen/
Hellen MORIARITY married in 1881 at St.
Joseph’s Cathedral Children:
Margaret
1884, William, 1886, Mary 1892, Walter
1895 & Ellen 1899. Family lived on South
Michigan across the river (Sea Wall or
Beach). Please contact: Kevin J O’Brien by
email at killernanfarm@gmailcom
O’BRIEN/GRAHM Looking for descendants
of Mortimer O’BRIEN and Mary GRAHAM
married in 1881 at St. Joseph’s Cathedral
Children: Sinon 1880, Anna 1885, Mortimer
1888, Mary 1892, William 1893, Francis
1897 & Alice Mary 1899.. Family lived on
South Michigan across the river (Sea Wall or
Beach). Please contact: Kevin J O’Brien by
HANLON/O’BRIEN
Looking for
descendants of James HANLON & Alice
Mary O’BRIEN Children: Jams Mortimer
1926, Eward Francis 1926, John Patrick
1928, Mary Alice 1930, Thomas 1930,
Richard 1935 & Rita 1939. Family lived at 35
Tamarack Street, South Buffalo in the 1940
Census. Please contact: Kevin J O’Brien by
DESMOND/HORRIGAN/O’BRIEN/
KENNEDY/DARCY/QUILL/BURNS/
Looking for descendants of Timothy
DESMOND & Ellen
HORRIGAN
Children: Catherine 1853 (John OBRIEN);
John 1855, Mary Agnes 1856 (John Burns);
Timothy 1858 (Mary Corcoran); Cornelius
1860 (Agnes Cleary); Anna 1863; Theresa
1865 Elizabeth 1867 Daniel Darcy); Alice
1870 (Edward Quill); Jennie 1872 (James
Kennedy) and Joseph 1875. This family
were “Beachers” and lived on South of
Michigan Street on the Sea Wall. Most
were married at St Joseph’s Cathedral, 50
Franklin St. Buffalo, NY.. Please contact:
Kevin J O’Brien by email at killernanfarm@
gmailcom
7
Rochez-Lahey Academy
of Irish Dance
While most families enjoy their family dinners and football on Thanksgiving, the Irish
Dancers of the Mid Atlantic travel to Philadelphia, Pennsylvania for the annual Regional Championship competition. Over 40
dancers from the Rochez-Lahey Academy of
Irish Dance competed this past weekend and
came home with several medals, but more
importantly, some new friendships, precious
memories and a better understanding and appreciation for their Irish culture.
Solo Awards:
Ladies under 20-Sarah Spitznogle, 8th place;
Ladies under 19-McKenzie Cantlon, 15th
place; Caitlin Rochez, 18th place; Girls under 16- Shannon Cantlon, 33rd place; Girls
under 10-Shaelynn Meyer, 32nd place; Traditional Set over 16, Caroline McCabe, 8th
place; Traditional set under 15- Kyra Meyer
13th place; Traditional set under 8, Emerie
Ficorilli, 5th place.
Team awards:
Girls under 10 Choreography- 4th place;
Girls under 10 8 hand, 21st place; Girls under
10 4 hand, 28th place; Girls under 12 4 hand,
25th place; Girls under 15 4 hand, 29th place.
Eilis and I would like to thank you to the
Buffalo Irish community, our Rochez-Lahey parents and Parents guild and especially
each and every one of our amazing dancers
for making the weekend so memorable and
enjoyable. Merry Christmas to all!
Clann Na Cara
dance results
It’s with great pride that we re-cap the regional qualifier for you!
In addition to the following dancers who placed, EVERYONE’S hard work and determination leading up to the competition was something to be proud of. Well done to all dancers.
Most solo competitions had well over 100 dancers in them.
Girls U10: Colleen DesRosiers 36th
Girls U13: Danielle Batz 23rd *National Qualifier
Girls U14: Mary Kumpon 34th *National Qualifier
Brianna Siwirski 63rd
Clare Maczka 64th
Girls U15:
Kalina Yadlosky 42nd *National Qualifier
Girls U17:
Monica Panzer 9th *National & World Qualifier
Boys U17:
Patrick Dzielski 5th *National & World Qualifier
Men U18:
Gannon Connors 2nd *National & World Qualifier
Ladies U19:
Shannon DesRosiers 25th
Ladies O20:
Mallory Siwirski 26th *National Qualifier
TSet U8:
Olivia Barbarossa-Robinson 6th
Molly Patterson 22nd
TSet U9: Julia Fellows 8th
Lily Gotthelf 18th
TSet U11:
Jamie Patterson 12th
Maura Bleech 19th
TSet U12:
Caitlin Wells 3rd
Kaitlyn Fellows 10th
TSet U13:
Reagan Zuber 17th
Elise Beamer 18th
TSet Adult:
Sarah Velasquez 3rd
Arielle Schaub 5th
Camille Kaniecki 7th
Katie Hamilton 14th
Karen Markham 14th
Girls 8H Ceili U10: 9th out of 42 teams
*World Qualifying
Girls 4H Ceili U10: 34th out of 80 teams
Girls 8H Ceili U15: Team B: 5th out of 58 teams
*World Qualifying
Team A: 19th out of 58 teams
Junior Figure:
3rd out of 6 teams
Adult 8H Ceili:
3rd out of 8 teams
Adult 4H Ceili:
Team A: 10th out of 24 teams
Team B: 11th out of 24 teams
As we wrap up 2014 we are proud to have within our school 9 open-champion level dancers,
7 National Qualifiers and 3 World Qualifying soloists, two teams place in the top 10, and a
roaring team of dancers heading to the World Championships in Montreal this coming March
to represent our school and Buffalo, NY. WHAT A YEAR!!!
THE DAUGHTERS
OF ERIN
If you would like to participate in:
Pot Luck Suppers, Charity Work, Adopt a Family Projects, Book Sales, Raffles,
St. Patrick’s Day Parade, Conventions, Going to the Theater, Helping Local
Food Pantries, Special Mass Observances, Calendar Luncheon and you are of
Irish and Catholic descent
THE DAUGHTERS OF ERIN
ARE LOOKING FOR YOU!
Meetings are held the 3rd Wednesday of every month.
FOR INFORMATION, CALL ROBIN MESSENGER AT 821-9762
8
Rince na Tiarna School Oireachtas 2014 RESULTS
Over Thanksgiving weekend, Rince na Tiarna School of Irish Dance traveled to Philadelphia to compete in the Mid-Atlantic Regional Oireachtas. Their hard work and enthusiasm
showed as they competed against schools across the region. We are proud of all our dancers who set foot on the stages in Philadelphia. Parents, friends and relatives enjoyed the
excitement and camaraderie of the weekend. Congratulations to all the WNY Irish Dance
schools who represented WNY so well.
SOLOISTS:
Kevinah Dargan
Fiona Dargan
Rose white
Emily Marino
Emily McEwen
Erin Lynch
Jack Shea
Adler Papiernik
Daniel Gernatt
Matthew Minton
Reilly Shea
Aemile Donoghue
Madison Pennington
Julia Marino
Anna Bloomstine Place
1st
2nd
2nd
5th
5th
6th 6th 8th
9th
10th
12th
12th
14th
17th
18th
TEAMS
Figure Choreography
Girls 8 Hand Ceili
Minor Mixed 4 Hand Ceili
Girls 8 Hand Ceili
Mixed 8 Hand Ceili
Junior Girls 4 Hand Ceili
Junior Girls 8 Hand
Girls 4 Hand Ceili
Senior Ladies 8 Hand Ceili
Girls 4 Hand Ceili
Mixed 4 Hand Ceili
Adult Ladies 8 Hand Ceili
Adult Ladies 4 Hand Ceili
TRADITIONAL SETS
Caitlin O’Brien Alexandra Smith
Allison Burd
Maren Carter
Jackson Kelly
Katie Donovan
Morgan Depue
Brigid McCormack
Allie Stoddard
Anna Hagner
Madison Wojtanik
Sarah Quinlan
Sabrina Abramowitz
Kaitlyn Joyner Chloe Wojtanik
Darcy Regan Erin Collins
Liz Slazak
Katie Dowdell
Age Group
Under 20
Under 17
Under 19
Under 13
Under 14
Under 19
Under 9
Under 17
Under 11
Under 11
Under 11
Under 17
Under 8
Under 14
Under 17
SOLOISTS:
Anna Rybczynski
Mia Sullivan
Emily Scoma
Mary White
Sierra Rogers
Grace Frederick
Emma Mahoney
Meghan O’Brien
Maeve McFall
Lauren Kielar
Baylea Johnson
Grade Dempsey
Fiona Murphy
Kyella O’Connor
PLACE
2nd
5th
3rd
5th & 27th
3rd
7th & 14th
3rd, 17th, & 26th
7th & 14th
2nd & 7th
10th
8th
1st
1st & 3rd
PLACE
3rd 5th
5th
7th
8th 9pth
10th
10th
12th
12th
12th
13th
14th 21st
23rd
1st
4th 8th
13th Place
19th
25th
26th
30th
31st
34th
35th
35th
38th
38th
41st
44th 60th
60th
Age Group
Under 13
Under 16
Under 17
Under 15
Under 17
Under 13
Under 9
Under 17
Under 14
Under 11
Under 17
Under 11
Under 13
Under 12
AGE GROUP
15 & Over
Under 10
Under 12
Under 12
Under 12
Under 15
Under 15
Under 15
Over 15
15 & Over
15 & Over
21 & Over
21 & Over
AGE GROUP
Under 11
Under 9
Under 10
Under 10
Under 10
Under 10
Under 14
Under 15
Under 10
Under 13
Under 14
Under 13
Under 8
Under 12
Under 11
21 & Over
21 & Over
21 & Over
21 & Over
RNT EASTERN CANADIAN REGIONAL OIREACHTAS RESULTS
Hayley Pereira
1st
Meadhbh O’Connor 10th
BUFFALOIRISHTIMES
MPB TRAVEL
480 Abbott Road, Buffalo, NY 14220
716.826.1009 • 800.234.0672
www.mpbtravel.com
DISCO NIGHTS
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Saturday, January 25th 2015
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9
BUFFALO IRISH TIMES
Calendar of Events SCHEDULE OF EVENTS
To submit events to the calendar, please email [email protected] Day Date Time Organization Event Fri-‐Sat 12-‐13 Evening Shannon’s Pub Rosewood Bridge Sat 13 Dec TBA AOH Christmas Party Tue 16 Dec 4-‐9pm Clann Na Cara Dance Each Tue 7:45pm InnisFree Adult Dance Irish Set & Ceili Dance Lessons Wed 17 Dec 6:30-‐9:30 School of Irish Culture Irish Language Class 7pm Assoc of Buffalo Irish Culture & Art 7pm FIR DOITEAN Irish Firefighters WNY 6:30 Shannon’s Pub Joe Head & Live Folk Fri 19 Dec TBA GAAA Fenians Quiz Night 7-‐10pm Shannon’s Pub Joe Head & Ugly Xmas Sweater Pty Tue 23 Dec 7:45pm InnisFree Adult Dance Irish Set & Ceili Dance Lessons Wed 24 Dec 6:30-‐9:30 School of Irish Culture Irish Language Class 7pm FIR DOITEAN Irish Firefighters WNY Fri-‐Sat 26-‐27 Evening Shannon’s Pub Penny Whiskey Tue 30 Dec 7:45pm InnisFree Adult Dance Irish Set & Ceili Dance Lessons Wed 31 Dec Evening GAAA New Year’s Eve w/Penny Whiskey Sat 3 Jan 10-‐12pm BIGS BIGS Irish Research-‐ Open To Public 1-‐4pm Shannon’s Pub Mike Reardon Band Wed 7 Jan 6:30-‐9:30 School of Irish Culture Irish Language Class 7pm FIR DOITEAN Irish Firefighters WNY Wed 14 Jan 6:30-‐9:30 School of Irish Culture Irish Language Class 7pm FIR DOITEAN Irish Firefighters WNY Fri 16 Jan Evening GAAA GAAA Members Open Meeting Wkends Jan-‐Feb TBA ICTC Call: 853-‐4282 The Lion in the Winter Sat 17 Jan 10am BIGS Meeting GAAA Irish Library ((Cont’d)
Cont’d)
Tue 20 Jan 6-‐9pm BIGS BIGS Irish Research-‐ Open To Public Wed 21 To Jan 6:30-‐ee9vents :30 f alendar, Irish Culture Language Class To ssubmit ubmit vents tSchool o to the the cocalendar, pplease lease Irish eemail mail [email protected] [email protected] 7pm FIR DOITEAN Irish Firefighters WNY Sat 24 Jan Time 8-‐Time 11pm Organization GAAA Disco Night Extreme Illumination & Sound Day Day Date Date Organization Event Event Jan Fri Fri 23 23 Jan 6-‐6-‐111pm 1pm Rince Rince NNa a TTiarna iarna Rince Rince NNa a TTiarna iarna PPub ub NNight ight Wed Wed 28 28 Jan Jan 6:30-‐
6:30-‐99:30 :30 School School oof f Irish Irish Irish Irish LLanguage anguage CClass lass Culture Culture Sat Sat 31 31 Jan Jan 6-‐6-‐111pm 1pm Clan Clan NNa a CCara ara FFundrzr undrzr Clan Clan NNa a CCara ara NNight ight ww/Crickwater /Crickwater 5-‐5-‐99pm pm Shannon’s Shannon’s PPub ub Rosewood Rosewood BBridge ridge Wed Wed 4 4 FFeb eb 6:30-‐
6:30-‐99:30 :30 School School oof f Irish Irish Irish Irish LLanguage anguage CClass lass Culture Culture 7pm 7pm Assoc Assoc oof f BBuffalo uffalo Irish Irish CCulture ulture && A Art rt 7pm 7pm FIR FIR DDOITEAN OITEAN Irish Irish FFirefighters irefighters WWNY NY Wkends Wkends 5-‐5-‐88Feb Feb TBA TBA ICTC ICTC CCall: all: 8853-‐
53-‐44282 282 The The LLion ion in in the the WWinter inter Sat Sat 7 7 FFeb eb 10-‐
10-‐112pm 2pm BIGS BIGS BIGS BIGS Irish Irish RResearch-‐
esearch-‐ O Open pen TTo o PPublic ublic GAAA GAAA St St PPat’s at’s CClub lub AAnnual nnual SSt t BBrigid’s rigid’s PPrty rty Wed Wed 11 11 FFeb eb 6:30-‐
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December
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Tue Tue 20 20 Jan Jan NOTE NOTE Email Email mme e UUr r NNext ext EEvents vents for fIrish
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he the 2015 2015 BBuffalo uffalo Irish Irish TTimes imes aat t [email protected] [email protected] Calendar Calendar oof f EEvents vents Location 2250 Niagara Falls Bld, Tonawanda BIC, 245 Abbott Rd, Buffalo, NY BIC, 245 Abbott Rd, Buffalo, NY BIC, 245 Abbott Rd, Buffalo, NY BIC, 245 Abbott Rd, Buffalo, NY BIC, 245 Abbott Rd, Buffalo, NY BIC, 245 Abbott Rd, Buffalo, NY 2250 Niagara Falls Bld, Tonawanda BIC, 245 Abbott Rd, Buffalo, NY 2250 Niagara Falls Bld, Tonawanda BIC, 245 Abbott Rd, Buffalo, NY BIC, 245 Abbott Rd, Buffalo, NY BIC, 245 Abbott Rd, Buffalo, NY 2250 Niagara Falls Bld, Tonawanda BIC, 245 Abbott Rd, Buffalo, NY BIC, 245 Abbott Rd, Buffalo, NY BIC, 245 Abbott Rd, Buffalo, NY 2250 Niagara Falls Bld, Tonawanda BIC, 245 Abbott Rd, Buffalo, NY BIC, 245 Abbott Rd, Buffalo, NY BIC, 245 Abbott Rd, Buffalo, NY BIC, 245 Abbott Rd, Buffalo, NY BIC, 245 Abbott Rd, Buffalo, NY 625 Main St, Buffalo, NY BIC, 245 Abbott Rd, Buffalo, NY BIC, 245 Abbott Rd, Buffalo, NY BIC, 245 Abbott Rd, Buffalo, NY BIC, 245 Abbott Rd, Buffalo, NY BIC, 245 Abbott Rd, Buffalo, NY Location Location BIC, BIC, 2245 45 AAbbott bbott RRd, d, BBuffalo, uffalo, NNY Y BIC, BIC, 2245 45 AAbbott bbott RRd, d, BBuffalo, uffalo, NNY Y BIC, BIC, 2245 45 AAbbott bbott RRd, d, BBuffalo, uffalo, NNY Y 2250
2250Niagara
NiagaraFalls
FallsBld,
Bld,Tonawanda Tonawanda BIC, BIC, 2245 45 AAbbott bbott RRd, d, BBuffalo, uffalo, NNY Y BIC, BIC, 2245 45 AAbbott bbott RRd, d, BBuffalo, uffalo, NNY Y BIC, BIC, 2245 45 AAbbott bbott RRd, d, BBuffalo, uffalo, NNY Y 625 625 MMain ain SSt, t, BBuffalo, uffalo, NNY Y BIC, BIC, 2245 45 AAbbott bbott RRd, d, BBuffalo, uffalo, NNY Y BIC, BIC, 2245 45 AAbbott bbott RRd, d, BBuffalo, uffalo, NNY Y BIC, BIC, 2245 45 AAbbott bbott RRd, d, BBuffalo, uffalo, NNY Y BIC, BIC, 2245 45 AAbbott bbott RRd, d, BBuffalo, uffalo, NNY Y BIC, BIC, 2245 45 AAbbott bbott RRd, d, BBuffalo, uffalo, NNY Y BIC, BIC, 2245 45 AAbbott bbott RRd, d, BBuffalo, uffalo, NNY Y BIC, BIC, 2245 45 AAbbott bbott RRd, d, BBuffalo, uffalo, NNY Y BIC, BIC, 2245 45 AAbbott bbott RRd, d, BBuffalo, uffalo, NNY Y BIC, BIC, 2245 45 AAbbott bbott RRd, d, BBuffalo, uffalo, NNY Y BIC, BIC, 2245 45 AAbbott bbott RRd, d, BBuffalo, uffalo, NNY Y BIC, BIC, 2245 45 AAbbott bbott RRd, d, BBuffalo, uffalo, NNY Y BIC, BIC, 2245 45 AAbbott bbott RRd, d, BBuffalo, uffalo, NNY Y Gorman’s Grill & Restaurant
FISH FRY, FRIDAY AND SATURDAY NIGHTS, 10CENTS
The Gorman Grill & Restaurant at 1134 Elk
Street, Buffalo, New York was first listed in
the Buffalo City Directory in 1908 under
the ownership of Patrick J Gorman. Patrick
J Gorman arrived in Buffalo, New York in
1887. Patrick Gorman married his neighbor
from Ireland, Mary O’Neill at St. Bridget’s
RCC on 30 Sep 1896. Patrick and Mary
were both from Shanaway West, Miltown
Malbay, County Clare Ireland.
By Kevin J O’Brien
There were many local dances held at
Gorman Grill & Restaurant where the new
Irish Immigrants would come and meet
others that had arrived at an earlier date and
from these dances many marriages were
made. My grandparents meet this way.
They only lived a few miles separate in
Ireland but did not know or associate with
each other in Ireland. The O’Brien family
was the land holder while my grandmother’s
Moroney family were renters in Miltown
Malbay and Molly’s father was a “cardriver” (horse & cart) livery. The two would
never have married in Ireland with such
social differences; only in their new home of
America.
My grandmother, Molly Moroney O’Brien
was a granddaughter of Biddy Gorman
an Aunt of Patrick J Gorman from
Shanaway. It was to his home Molly went
to after emigrating through Ellis Island from
Miltown Malbay, County Clare, Ireland on
13 October 1898 when she came to Buffalo,
New York.
Patrick Gorman operated the Gorman Grill
and Restaurant until 1914 when he moved
out to 25 Hubbell Avenue, South Buffalo and
sold the Saloon to his nephew, John Gorman
of Shanaway West, County Clare.
John Gorman arrived in 1902 in Buffalo, New
York from Ireland. After living in Buffalo a
few years he married Mary Looney in 1905.
Mary was from Cloonlaheen a neighboring
townland of John’s in Ireland. This was a
common practice for Irish to marry someone
from “back home”.
Irish immigrant making his way in his new
home. Many Irish immigrants walked into
the Gorman saloon with a note from home
introducing them as a son or daughter of
someone from back home in County Clare;
with hopes of help in finding a job.
Back row: John O’Brien, Jack Corcoran, ?, Harold Murry
Standing: Mary McDonald, Kate O’Brien Fitzgibbons, John S O’Brien,
Mary Looney Gorman,?,?,? Dolly Gorman Barr & John Gorman Jr.
Kneeling: Carol Fitzgibbons, Joan Fitzgibbons, ?, Joe “Bricky” Barr
John and Mary Gorman operated the saloon
until 1931 when John Gorman died and then
Mary ran the saloon with the help
of her son John Jr until she died
in 1954 and then John Jr. kept it
running until the 1970’s when it
closed.
Checking the Buffalo City
Directories during the Prohibition
Years of 1920 – 1933 I found John
Gorman listed at 1134 Elk Street as
soft drinks or grocer. The 1920 Federal
Census list John Gorman as “Saloon”
while the 1930 Federal Census lists
John as “Grocer”. Family stories are
told that whiskey was smuggled from
Canada and beer made in the bath tub
was sold during the Prohibition years.
It is said my grandmother made some
good beer for them and home.
During the Irish War of Independence in
Ireland 1922-1923 special fund raising events
were held at Gorman Grill & Restaurant to
support the Republicans who were arrested
and interned by the Irish Free State’s
Provisional government.
The Gorman
family were strong Irish Republicans and
IRA supporters and Mary Looney Gorman’s
brother was in prison during this time. Paper
work has survived from these fund raisers
listing the names of people that attended
these dances and others that contributed.
The money receipts that were sent to the
IRA leaders in Clare were saved and the
returned thank you letters from the IRA
leaders survive along with a list of all
the IRA members and the prisons they
were in sent with the amount of money
sent to each IRA member.
After the passing of the 21 Amendment
repealing the 18th Amendment in Dec
1933 the Gorman Grill & Restaurant
was back in business with their 5 cent
beers and 10 cent Fish Fry.
Imagine taking your closest 200
friends out and buying them all a
dinner for $20.00 and each a beer
for another $10.00.
This must be what is meant by the
“Good Old Days”!
The Gorman saloon was vital to the
GENEALOGY
Who did they go out to?
By Tracer O’Brien
This is the question that you must
ask yourself when you find a relative in your
family tree somewhere in Canada, Australia,
and USA or anywhere in the world and you
don’t know why they are there. The first
time I heard this question, “Who did they go
out to?” was in Ireland when I was meeting
relatives in Ireland and explaining the
connection between my family and theirs.
They knew that their relative went out to
someone.
This has been very helpful to me
in my years of genealogical research. I was
fortunate that my Irish ancestors came to the
good old US of A in 1900 and there was still
family living back on the ancestral farm in
Killernan Townland, County Clare, Ireland.
I knew where they came from but why did
they come to Buffalo? It took me a while to
figure this out and it was always in front of
me - they came because they needed a start.
Life was very difficult 100 years ago and
when the decision was made to leave Ireland
it was usually a one way trip.
Because, I finally grasped
this concept my family tree has grown
exponentially. My grandmother, Molly
Moroney of Miltown Malbay, came to
Buffalo in 1898 because her grandmother’s
people, the Gorman Family were living here
in Buffalo, New York. My grandmother
was not the first immigrant that the Gorman
family extended a hand to and offered help.
The Gorman family was living here in
Buffalo for 20 years before helping family;
friends and neighbors get a start in Buffalo.
This means that Buffalo’s population had
a growing number of citizens from my
ancestral parish in Ireland.
In Ireland, neighbors married
neighbors and siblings married siblings
from other families. This happened for
a number of reasons but one of the main
reasons was the land. The Irish wanted to
insure the land stayed within the family. I
have found cousins marring cousins in every
one of my Irish families. This happened in
the new adopted country of immigration as
well. My Irish grandparents and my wife’s
Irish grandparents both married spouses
in Buffalo that were from the same parish
back in Ireland and my grandfather’s sister
Delia O’Brien married John Cahill a 2nd
cousin here in New York in 1905. This was
a common practice amongst the Irish.
This past year, I have been looking
at the early Buffalo City Directories at a time
before my grandparents moved to Buffalo.
I have identified O’Brien families living
in Buffalo sometimes 50 years before my
grandfather arrived in the USA and traced
these families origins back to the ancestral
11
parish in County Clare, Ireland. These Irish
immigrants may not be directly related but
they are connected to the same community
in Ireland. This has happened for at least
three O’Brien families and more collateral
families that I could add to my family tree.
Some of the death records that I
have found here in Buffalo have given me
an additional generation that is not recorded
in Ireland because of the late start of record
keeping in Ireland. Irish Church records
didn’t start until circa 1830; Irish Civil
Records of birth, death and marriage until
1864 and the only census records in Ireland
are 1901 and 1911 at this time. The American
records not only started at an earlier date,
they also give more details, especially with
the death and marriage records.
If you have hit another “BRICK
WALL” in your genealogical research give
this a try.
So Long Ago
By JoAnn Sullivan Lyons
The green aircraft landed in
Shannon, tears filled my eyes; God had
blessed me one more to be in the land of my
parent’s birth. It was so much a part of them,
always in their heart and never far from
their minds. My mother and father came to
America armed with a sixth grade education
but plenty of common sense; a wish for a
better life and with strong determination,
they worked hard to attain that end. It was
not easy for them to leave the beautiful land
they would always call “home” but they
knew the beauty of the landscape alone
would not sustain them and they found the
courage to go.
I guess I’ve always been proud to
be first generation “Irish American”, proud
of my heritage, “a child of Irish immigrants”.
I believe being Irish is not something you
do but who you are your heart beats a little
faster as the sound of the ancestral brogue.
It is knowing and cherishing your heritage,
taking pride in its culture, customs and
traditions; then passing it on to the next
generations. It cannot be left to trivial
legends or media impressions.
Our children knew my parent’s
as loving and caring grandparents they
saw often but I wanted them to know the
brave young people they were who tore
themselves away from the arms of family
members to travel across the seas to a future
unknown. Little by little with pride and
conviction I told our family story of their
triumphs, defeats and the hardships they
overcame.
In 1924 my father would leave his
home in Barrow Ardfert, Co Kerry, near
beautiful Tralee Bay, to travel to Buffalo’s
Old First Ward; a tight knit Irish community
at the time to his Aunt Mary Sullivan
Driscoll; he would never forget her kindness
to him. Some years earlier my Great Aunt
Mary had looked back on the humble white
thatched cottage for the last time to travel
across the Atlantic to seek the “American
Dream”. She could not have envisioned that
one day her great grandson Brian Higgins
would be walking the halls of congress, an
immigrants dream come true.
My father would find work down
at the waterfront, first as a scooper, then
working for the G.L.F Mills at 333 Ganson
Street which later would be known as
Agway Mills. A trip down the waterfront
now and the smell of the grains in the air
brings back fond memories of my dad’s
years at the Mill. He retired with thirty –
three years’ service.
My mother and her cousin Anna
would leave their home in Goulane,
Castlegregory near popular Dingle Bay,
Co Kerry in 1923 to travel to their Aunt
Tess Moynihan Ashe in Providence Road
Island. They worked as domestics for the
well-to-do, always saying how much they
learned from them. They would later come
to Buffalo to visit relatives and they ended
up staying here.
Fate and their love of music, song
and dance would bring my parents together
at a dance at McMahon’s Hall in Buffalo’s
Old First Ward. My father would tell us
years later in a recorded conversation “Her
beautiful smile and Irish eyes lit up the
room and I knew I had to ask her to dance”,
the rest would be history. They married at
St. Joseph’s New Cathedral on Delaware
Ave where my mother worked in the rectory
by the Rev. John Duffy who later would
become Bishop of Buffalo.
My parents would raise a family,
take pride in the home they bought, where
everyone was welcome, hardy laughter was
often heard and wonderful conversations
had over “A nice cup of tea”. They were
active in their parish church, school and
community as well. They joined Irish clubs
but at the same time became acclimated
to the “American Way” blending the old
ways and traditions with the new always
taking pride in their American Citizenship.
My father was an Air-Raid-Warden during
WWII, loved the American pastime of
baseball often walking over to Caz Park
after dinners to watch all the local teams
play. I would sometimes join him fostering
my own love for baseball which I still have
today.
Growing up in a predominately
Irish South Buffalo many of us kids
thought we were related as our families
often visited each other’s homes. In reality
we were not blood-related our parents had
been neighbors in Ireland and carried their
friendships across the ocean and continued it
when they settled in Buffalo. They gathered
around the table together not only sharing
food but memories, laughter, new ideas and
of course “a letter from home”. They took
the time for each other in good times and
bad, happy and sad. God had blessed their
laughter as well as their tears; a friendship
that truly lasted a life-time.
My mother often told my sister
Mary and myself stories of growing up
in rural Ireland with her four sisters and
younger brother as we did our chores around
the house on Saturday morning. She had a
way of painting a picture in your mind as
she told stories that made you feel as though
you were there. They helped around the
farm before school, feeding the chickens,
milking the cows, getting water from the
well and walking three miles to school. I
think it was my mom’s way of letting us
see how easy we had it and with her Irish
wit she always made it seem like fun. I
would see those same stories unfold before
my eyes as we traveled to Ireland by boat
in 1952 on the M.V. Georgica the English
Cunard Line for a month long visit. We
landed in the Cobh of Cork after a ten day
voyage on the ocean. It was an experience
of a life time.
We received a hundred thousand
welcomes from my aunts, uncles, cousins
and both my Grandfather Lynch and
Grandfather Sullivan. My grandmothers on
both sides of the family had been deceased
some years earlier. I still remember the
excitement of the grand reunion and how
happy we were to be together.
Electricity had not yet come to the
countryside, Ireland was poor at the time
but yet so beautiful with delightful people,
customs and traditions. They led a simple
life, working long hours on the land of their
inheritance but so content.
I enjoyed being on the farms my
parents grew up on, riding horses, tending
the sheep and going to the creamery with
my grandfather and uncle. We had visited
all the tourists spots but I liked the countryside the best. I guess I felt right at home,
learned so much about Ireland and the
relations I had heard so much about. I saw
so many similarities between us; it started
a wonderful connection. My cousins and I
became pen pals and good friends. We grew
up, married, had families of our own; often
visiting back and forth making wonderful
memories. The next generations now help
to continue the relationships with family
there.
Now when we travel to Ireland and
walk on the land my parents were born on
I realize it was here they developed those
fine traits of character. My cousins talk
about the boxes that would arrive from
America so carefully packed with items
my sister and I had outgrown and the small
checks that would be sent at Christmas
time. My relatives are all doing well now,
many of them retired but never forgetting
the kindness of my parents so long ago. The
waves of the ocean had separated them but
they were never forgotten.
Ireland has certainly changed since
my first visit, the cities now bustling with
hotels, restaurants, and businesses. The
farms have modern equipment, things done
differently now but still so beautiful. My
husband Paul and I have been fortunate to
have enjoyed several trips to Ireland, but
my first visit as a young girl, meeting family
there for the first time, their kindness and
the fondness I have for my parents’ birth
place is forever frozen in my mind, stitched
close to my heart, a part of who I am: my
legacy.
So celebrate your heritage, keep
our culture alive, tell the stories of the
people that came before you, their struggles,
their accomplishments, else it will fade and
die with us. They all met with their own
segregation but in spite of it all they made
their own way in their new adopted country,
contributing to the history of the United
States. God Bless them all and God Bless
America, the land of opportunity for so
many.
Keane Kids on Kingston
By Jim Keane
Throughout my life I have often been
asked what it was like growing up in
such a large family. People are naturally
struck by the seeming enormity of it all.
After all, sixteen children in one family
does seem a bit incredible, especially in
these times of smaller, more manageable
families. However, it was all normal to
me. It’s all I knew-the only experience I
ever had. Therefore the correct answer
to the many queries is that it was,
simply put, normal. Still I understand
the curiosity and the bewilderment most
folks have when contemplating what it
was actually like living with so many
under one small roof in such a tiny
space.
It was the 1950’s. There were only three
bedrooms in the 1400 square foot row
house at 101 Kingston Place. My father,
Dick Keane, and my uncle Eddie Patton
had converted the third floor attic space
to a dormitory for the nine boys. Surplus
army bunks were procured for the
barracks-like atmosphere. Mom and dad
slept in one of the three bedrooms, while
four girls claimed another and three
more girls occupied the third. We all
had equal access to the only bathroom.
Weekday mornings we each had about
five minutes apiece in the bathroom to
prepare for work or school, whatever
the case might be. Actual bathing was
done the prior night. Dad, up promptly
at six, was always first and was off to
his regular job at the Post Office before
most of the rest of us were even awake.
He neither drove nor owned a car, so he
took the Seneca Street bus to Station D
on Hydraulic St near Emslie Street.
Next in line for the john were the
workers- those siblings who had already
graduated high school and were off to
their respective jobs. Last in line were
those of us who were still in school, or
not yet in school. The older kids, those
in high school, helped the younger
ones, like me, get ready for school.
I was the twelfth child. My mother,
Kate, acting like the staff sergeant that
was a requirement for raising 16 kids,
12
supervised it all, timing us for the sake of
efficiency and expediency. Later in life,
my Air Force drill instructor marveled at
how easily I carried out orders.
Downstairs, in the dining room, mom
and several of my brothers and sisters
were preparing school lunches. Mom
doled out bus fares and milk money
and checked to make sure we were
wearing proper clothes, hats, gloves
and especially boots. A quick bowl
of shredded wheat or oatmeal and we
were out the door. Some of us walked
to Timon or South Park, while others
took the bus to school. The younger
Continued on next page
Guests in the House
By Joseph Xavier Martin
The 747 circled lazily through the
patterned array of clouds that framed the
blue of the Atlantic Ocean and the gray of
the concrete canyons on the small island
beneath us. We were on final approach for
LaGuardia airport in New York City.
It was early December and we were
looking forward to seeing the Big Apple
in all of her Christmas glory. We could
already imagine the enormous, decorated
Christmas Tree in Rockefeller Center. It
would be shining brightly, as skaters swept
by gracefully on the ice below. Thoughts
of shopping and dinner in fine restaurants
filled our heads like delightful illusions in
a child’s fairy tale. We were in the Land of
Oz and bursting to see its many wonderful
curiosities.
New York City is more than
impressive to the casual visitor; it is
magical and other worldly. As you wander
down its many grand boulevards, you
can see buildings and places that appear
larger than life. The Empire State Building,
Lincoln Center, Grand Central Station and
The Metropolitan Museum are just a few
of the imposing bastions of commerce and
culture on display every day in this magical
city. People walk hurriedly across the broad
Manhattan Avenues in teeming throngs. The
outlanders gawk skyward at the unfamiliar
sites. The natives are grim and determined,
resigned to the battle of living and working
in such a tumultuous and fast paced
environment.
And then, there are the homeless.
They appear as unwelcome apparitions,
wandering bundles of old clothes carrying
their life’s possessions in a shopping cart or
beat up duffel bag. Begging for spare change
or wandering about, they seem pathetic
enough in most seasons. In the Winter they
are downright tragic. Some few lie on steam
grates to capture the underground warmth
of a building’s heating system. Others lie
in doorways to sleep or shelter themselves
from the harsh winds that blow in off the
East River. They are a tribe of outcasts that
struggle daily for survival. The natives walk
around these semi-invisible vagabonds,
not seeing them. They are long inured to
the daily tragedy that is everywhere about
them. The tourists cringe in horror and walk
rapidly around the prostrate forms. People
do not act like this in Dubuque or Silvercity
or Bumblebee.
I too once thought this way, while
visiting New York, though we have our own
share of homeless in Buffalo. I still avoided
the wretched ones. Perhaps, it is an age old
fear of contagion, bred in us from a harsher,
long ago time, when the sick and the lame
and the old were forced from the clan and
abandoned to die alone and bereft. These
thoughts passed through my head as I
walked up the magnificent Camino D’Oro
or “Golden Way.” The natives call it Fifth
Avenue, but that is much too plebeian a
name for this magical boulevard that is lined
with the riches and wealth of the world.
The Plaza Hotel, Gucci, Saks, Fao Swartz,
Rockefeller Center, The Metropolitan and
Guggenheim Museums all stand as glittery
testimonials to the wealth and glory of a
civilization at its zenith. My head and imagination were
awash with these impressive visions of
modern prosperity as I walked along. In
front of me, and just across the street from
Rockefeller Center, stands another of the
City’s more memorable landmarks, St.
Patrick’s Cathedral. Built of gray limestone
and weather darkened from years of
exposure to the elements, it appears as a slate
gray and smaller version of the magnificent
Cathedral of Notre Dame in Paris. With
its massive doors and graceful arches, St.
Patrick’s Cathedral is an imposing edifice.
We were chilled from walking in the twenty
degree temperature and bitter winds, so we
decided to enter and pay our respects.
As we walked through the
vestibule of this storied church, we were
duly impressed with the massive vault of the
ceiling and the colorful array of stained glass
windows high above us. The magnificently
appointed altar and the polished rows of
wooden pews bespoke of a faithful who
worshipped here regularly. The church
has the aura of order and serenity that is
conducive to the quiet contemplation and
reflection on the mysteries of heaven and
earth. As I looked around me, I was mildly
surprised at the relatively large scattering of
men and women sitting peacefully amidst
the long expanse of wooden pews. It was
unusual for me to see this many worshippers
in church, sitting in contemplation on a
Winter’s afternoon.
As we finished our prayers and
walked up the aisle towards the exit, I slowly
passed the length of the church. I began to
notice that several of the worshippers were
of a scruffy appearance and attired in many
layers of cast off clothing. Some were
unshaven and looked ragged and unkempt.
Others appeared merely sullen and resigned.
Each was alone with his thoughts. I began
to realize that they were a small part of the
legion of the city’s homeless. They had
wandered in to St. Patrick’s to seek warmth
and safety from the frigid temperatures. If
they sat still and caused no ruckus, they
were usually assured a day’s sanctuary from
the elements and the unsure danger of life
on the city’s streets.
At first, I was somewhat taken
aback that such ragged people would
defile the house of God. They were in
here to get warmth and sleep, not pray
for forgiveness. All of the early Catholic
training in me rebelled at such casual
irreverence. As I stood at the back of the
church in confusion, the sun broke through
the clouds outside and a wonderful array
of sunbeams splashed through the linear
rectangles of stained glass windows high
along the walls. The color and light were
beautiful. At the end of each light beam, as
though illuminated in an ethereal aura, sat
one of the poor unfortunates. They sat with
a forlorn dignity, in all of their wretched
misery, spotlighted like fabled figures in a
child’s story book.
For a brief second, to my mind’s
eye, their ragged clothes and scruffy
appearances were stripped away. The
smooth, unwrinkled skin of smiling
children surfaced fleetingly upon their tired
faces. It was as if the lightning strike of Saul
of Tarsus had come upon me and the veils
were lifted from my eyes for I realized, in
one of those epiphanies of blinding insight,
that these men and women around me were
indeed the children of God. I saw each of
these “children” differently now as they sat
quietly in their wooden pews. Who more
than they were at home and welcomed
here? A loving and merciful God would
want them to take shelter in his house.
A donation to the poor box and
a whispered prayer was all that I could
manage as we edged uncertainly from this
magnificent limestone edifice. From across
the street, I looked back at the weatherworn
structure. The building was gloriously
bathed in the bright afternoon sun and I now
saw it in a new and flattering light. It is a
place of holy refuge where even the outcast
are welcomed.
For the remainder of the day, we
were thoughtful as we walked amidst the
frenetic hustle and bustle of this great city.
We had much to think about. The following
day we checked out of our hotel and returned
to our homes on the far shores of Lake Erie.
The images of wealth and splendor still
competed with thoughts of the poor and
homeless in our minds. It was troubling
to me as I reflected on the contradictions
that I had witnessed. A line from a favorite
Dicken’s novel comes to mind, “It was the
best of times and the worst of times.”
After our experience in St. Patrick’s
Cathedral, I look around me carefully
whenever I enter a church or cathedral.
And when I see some unfortunate homeless
huddling for warmth and safety in a dark
corner of the church, I smile to myself. For,
I know then that these are invited guests and
this must truly be a House of God.
Keane Kids on Kingston cont....
ones walked five blocks to St Teresa’s
where we filed military style into school
to John Philips Sousa marches.
Right after school, some of us would
join mom at the piano in the living room
where she’d play our favorite tunes and
we’d all sing along. Soon thereafter
mom would start dinner, while the
school kids did homework in various
places throughout the house. The
kitchen and dining room were off limits
for homework as those rooms were
needed for dinner prep. You learned to
study through the din. There was no
such thing as quiet time.
About 6PM dinner began in shifts. Dad
had to be off to one of his second fronts,
either at Buffalo Raceway, where he was
a para-mutual or at Memorial Auditorium
where he worked as a security guard or
a ticket taker, depending on the event.
By now, the workers in the family were
home and, as some of them had second
fronts, they ate first, followed by the
school kids. From the head of the table,
mom doled out the meal, plate by plate
to ensure each and everyone got to eat.
After dinner we argued about whose
turn it was to do the dishes. You see,
some things are universal, the same for
both large and small families.
Saturdays were quite different from
weekdays. You could sleep in, but you
also had assigned chores that had to be
accomplished prior to any recreational
opportunities with friends. Mom spent
almost the entire day in the kitchen,
baking cookies, bread, pies, cakes
and sometimes even specialties like
chocolate éclairs. The kitchen resembled
a winter wonderland. Flour was strewn
everywhere. With a fifty pound bag of
flour on one side and a similar-sized
bag of sugar on the other, mom sat at
a table rolling pie dough while several
of the kids peeled apples and peaches.
She’d knead bread dough until her
fingers ached with pain, all the while
singing songs aloud with her brood. The
oven couldn’t possibly keep up with the
volume of loaves and other delectable.
So we “borrowed” the ovens of several
neighbors to complete the task. “Here
Jim”, mom would say, ”take this pie
down to Mary Conrad’s and have her
put it in the oven for one hour at 325
degrees”.
Meanwhile in the next room a couple
of my sisters would be ironing clothes.
The dining room table was cleared for
this purpose. Clothes were washed and
hung to dry every day, all day, all week
long. My father’s uniform shirts had
to be starched and hung to drip dry.
On Saturdays the clothes were initially
sprinkled, rolled up and then piled high
on the dining room table in preparation
for ironing. Remember these were the
days before wash ‘n wear and steam
irons. We had two ironing boards and
two old sawed-off broom sticks were
placed between the backs of two chairs
where hangers of clothes were placed
once they were done. Once a broomstick
was full, the newly ironed outfits were
transferred to the appropriate closet.
The boys were mostly reserved for yard
work and floor scrubbing. All floors had
to be scrubbed weekly. That included
wood work and even walls on occasion.
As we lived in a row house next door to
a doughnut shop and other commercial
enterprises along Seneca Street, the
driveway, more affectionately known to
us as the alleyway had to be thoroughly
scrubbed and hosed down. The cellar
was swept and cleaned and the lawn,
what there was of it, was mowed.
Maintaining grass was a futile endeavor.
Sheets, bedding and towels were
washed and hung to dry. This was a
chore for either girls or the boys. Each
and every one of us had a job to do.
And these chores had to be completed
before we could do anything else on
those Saturdays. During the winter
months, one of the boys was assigned
the task of stoking the furnace at 3AM
and scooping several shovels of coal
on the fire. Before sundown, mom
would polish all the little ones shoes so
her brood would look appropriate for
Sunday morning mass at St Teresa’s.
She went through a whole bottle of
white polish every month.
13
Once all chores were completed, we
were free to go to the show or play
ball with friends. We’d play pick-up
football out front on Kingston Place or
have a softball game in the parking lot
behind Western Auto. We’d often go
to the Seneca Show for the Saturday
matinee that consisted of five Looney
Toons, a Zorro episode, an Abbott and
Costello movie and/or a Dean Martin
and Jerry Lewis flick. Sometimes it
was Roy Rogers or Tarzan. Admission
was 14 cents and since we didn’t have
the required fare, we’d stand next to
the ticket booth asking kids who had
just purchased a ticket for their penny
change. Once we accumulated 14
pennies, one of us would buy a ticket,
enter the theater and then surreptitiously
open up a back door to let the others
in. Mr. McKiernan, the manager of the
Seneca Theater, always turned a blind
eye to this weekly ritual. I’m certain that
McKiernan earned a high spot in heaven
for his generosity.
Anyway that’s the way I remember it
and I’m sticking to the story. It’s a small
peek at what life was like growing up
in a big family back when. As I said
it was all normal to me and it was a
wonderful and privileged childhood.
I’ve never stopped feeling blessed for
the experience.
BUSINESS
PROFILES
THE BRITISH CHIPPY
By Vicky Damian
At 1216 South Park Avenue, Buffalo, NY
14220,Vicky and Damian Parker the proud
owners of The English Pork Pie Company
have built a traditional British Fish and Chip
Shop right into the side of the building.
In the city known for its Friday night
“Fish Fry” The Parker’s have built this
Fish and Chip shop with that in mind.
Everything within the British Chippy is
as authentic as the concept! The Frying
Range, Potato Peeler (capable of peeling
a 50lb bag of potatoes in 60 seconds)and
the Potato Chipper (cuts the potatoes to
the exact size of those in England), not
to mention the interior decor including
wall posters of London, traditional British
seaside photographs, top hat lighting and
the Salt and Vinegar shakers. Looking for
an experience like no other? The British
Chippy will provide you with just that.
Fish and Chips are a very popular dish
across Britain and Ireland, appealing to all
walks of life, whether a quick lunch stop
for the busy office workers or a casual
break between jobs for the builders and
construction workers. In a study dated
3/26/2014 posted by Huffington Post, fish
and chips are in the top 3 for most popular
choice of takeaways across the United
Kingdom.
With a variety of options to choose from,
including Battered Cod and Chips, Battered
Sausage and Chips, Pie and Chips, Chip
Butties (a chip sandwich) and Fish Cakes.
You are sure to find something you want to
bite your teeth into.
Fresh Cod is shipped in directly from the
boat in Iceland, caught direct from the
same boats that provide Britain’s finest Fish
and Chip shops. They have a local farmer
that is growing their very own Potatoes,
almost identical to those used in the UK. A
variety of famous condiments are available
including Malt Vinegar, HP Sauce, Mushy
Peas and Curry Sauce. Also offered are
your US favorites including Ketchup and
Tartar Sauce. Your Fish and Chips will be
wrapped in classic ink free newspaper and
served with a traditional wooden fork.
Stop by for lunch or dinner, our opening
times are Mon, Tue, Wed 11-6, Thu 11-7
and Sat 11-4 and Fri 11-8. The best Fish
and Chips you will ever have this side of
the Atlantic is waiting for you, right here in
Buffalo!
GENEALOGY
Family Research
Guidelines to untangling your roots
Donna M. Shine
6350 Scherff Road, Orchard Park NY 14127
(716) 662-1164
[email protected]
THE IRISHMAN
PUB & EATERY
Our New Gathering Rooms
INNISFREE ADULT DANCERS
TRADITIONAL IRISH SET & CEILI
DANCE LESSONS
NOW OPEN……
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BUFFALO IRISH CENTER
Meetings

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

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Baby Showers
Bridal Showers
Baptisms/Dedications
Graduations
Bereavement Receptions
Communions/Confirmations
Add the Traditions of Ireland to your
next Milestone Occasion!
TUESDAY 7:45 PM
CONTACT SHANE & JEAN DEVLIN
5601 Main Street Williamsville, NY 14221
PH: (716) 626-2670
www.irishmanpub.com
627-5966
Birthday Parties
Engagements
Weddings
Retirements
Seminars/Business
14
Going Home To Buffalo’s Southern Island
By Joseph Xavier Martin
We visited Holy Cross Cemetery today.
It was sunny and a cool 62 degrees out on
this early October morning. The cemetery is
timeless in its appearance. The weather worn
limestone grave markers signal your entrance
into the repose of the transplanted Irish. Many
of the names are familiar to me, family, friends
and neighbors from the nearby community of
South Buffalo.
The St. Jude section is a well-known
destination to me. We stop first at brother
Eddie’s resting place and straighten up his
stone. The heavy grass growth had covered
much of the in ground marker. A few rows
away, we clean up Maureen & Dad’s/Danny’s
stone. We say a prayer and move onto the
nearby Assumption section where brother
Jack’s grand marble marker sits proudly. He
would have liked the Irish blessing on its face.
I leave a golf ball on the edge of the stone as a
memento. The visit is a reminder to me of who
we are and from whence we came.
We drive along McKinley Pkwy and then
past Trocaire College/Mt. Mercy Academy.
The homes along the way are a rota to me of
friends and family some now long passed on.
I catalogue each remembrance as we drive
into the leafy green expanse of Cazenovia
Park. The park entrance here at Abbott Rd. is
now named after legendary southpaw baseball
hurler, Warren Spahn. He had been born and
raised a few blocks from here before spending
most of his playing career with the Milwaukee
Brewers. They well remember their sports
heroes here.
A little league soccer game was in progress
in the small field opposite the old Caz pool and
along Neuman Street. Throngs of parents and
grandparents watch their progeny run up and
down the field in a timeless pursuit of autumn.
The old Caz pool is filled in now. The renovated
Caz Casino, sturdy brick and prosperous in its
appearance is still empty, a monument to times
long past. A hundred years ago the casino had
rented out canoes for recreation on the small
pond and nearby Cazenovia Creek. Different
generations live here today, unaware of their
collective past. We park next to the small brick
structure that once served as a park office of
sorts. A baseball game is in progress in the
nearby diamond. Two Catholic elementary
teams are going head to head. The team is
coed, something novel for this area. Before the
Federal Title Nine statues in the early seventies,
young girls were relegated to the benches as
spectators. We walk around the asphalt path
that circles the “bowl” area of Cazenovia Park.
The small grove of chestnut trees, immediately
adjacent to the old St. John the Evangelist
elementary school, reminds me of the Kingers
games we used to play there. We would first
capture the smooth chestnuts from the high
trees before fashioning them into homemade
Kingers. I wrote a story about it once and still
have fond recollections of the area.
Next, we come upon Seneca Parkside, a
small dead end street where the Martin Family
had once called home. We walk slowly up the
small street. The houses are older now, some
dating back to the 1920’s. They show their
wear, aging dowagers straining to retain their
cosmetic beauty. I know each house from
our years here. I mentally tick off the list of
occupants as I walk along. Gaska, Fitzpatrick,
Martin, Esford, Johnson, Sullivan, Doyle,
Carroll, Brown, Reidell, Gray, Acquino,
Pingre, Spencer, Munson, Jackson, Thilke.
The names come easily to mind and with them
a rota of faces and flash of memories from long
ago. In some plane of existence they all still
reside here living out their eternal existence.
At the corner of the street, I look along
Seneca Street and see what once was there.
Liberty Bank, Colonial Kitchen, Mohican
Market, Sears, Hens & Kelly’s, Kinmaid
Mattar clothes, the Seneca Show and several
others. Only the venerable Ettore Winter
Photographic studio remains from the past.
The once busy commercial area is now a weary
and dimmer version of its past. The area is
changing. Like most eastern American cities,
it is wearing down as successive generations
of people live out their lives amidst the gritty
urban existence. We walk down Theresa Place,
the next street over. I know the names here from
my old Courier Express Paper route, Moore,
O’Neil, Gorman, Cooley, Keifer, Devereaux.
It is part of the same rota of memories from
Seneca Parkside. I remember well the faces
and personalities of those who once lived here.
None I think remain.
The Cazenovia Park beckons. We walk past
the old Caz Library. It is open now but only
barely survives. Library consolidation has
tossed it upon the tender mercies of a private
support club. I remember my first library card
here at age four and the many, many hours of
enjoyment spent inside its solid brick expanse.
Just across the street, on the banks of the creek,
I see the venerable American Legion posy
#721. CBS newsman Tim Russert and his dad
had made the place mildly famous in years
past as one of their watering holes. I remember
weddings and other events there from long
past. We walk across the green bridge, which
straddles Cazenovia Creek between the two
legions Drives. We see and appreciate the
remarkably unique housing along Cazenovia
Street. Spring ice jams here had been both
majestic and scary. Turrets and solid two story
wooden homes sit in good appearance facing
the park. Many local stories are etched there in
these clapboard homes.
The “pond” is gone now, replaced by a small
grassy meadow. I remember ice-skating on that
rough surfaced and open expanse. The nearby
“stone bridge” is also a distant memory. It was
a gathering spot for teens in ages past. Stories
of some, manufactured scare, called the “Pink
Ghost” come to mind. I don’t remember who or
what it was only that is was the “scare de jour”
for a few years. The Tosh Collins community
center occupies the corner of Cazenovia and
Abbot Rds. Behind it an indoor ice rink and
next to it an enclosed swimming pool. It is
quite a complex for a city neighborhood. The
small brick building here is all that remains of
the open aired Cazenovia Ice Rink. One of the
areas sons had been Buffalo Mayor for sixteen
years. These structures are part of his favored
legacy to his home turf. Across Abbott Rd., sits
Mercy Hospital in all its expanded glory. The
Mercy Nuns could never have imagined the
size of the place now, with its adjacent parking
ramp.
We continue walking through the park. I
see familiar athletic fields and even the Caz
park golf course in the distance. We re-cross
Cazenovia Creek, over another venerable
iron bridge. We watch the flights of ducks
and geese wading on the shallow and swiftly
running waters below us. The leaves are
already changing in the high trees around
us. The snows will come in a few weeks to
clasp the park in its snowy embrace. Many
memories from this Park are with me still. We
walk through the small playground, near the
old wading pool, and by the venerable Casino
again. Another soccer game is in progress
in the field before it. This grassy expanse
had once been a small lake. We stop at the
shelter house and look at a section of newly
paved bricks. Many are inscribed with names
I have long known. It is a memorial of sorts
to the better-healed or larger families in the
area. Each name on the stones evokes another
memory for me of lives and times now long
past. It is time for us to go. We mount up the
chariot and drive slowly through the park ring
road. How many memories can an area hold
for you? Here, there are thousand for me. Most
are pleasant, and all in my distant past. We are
who we were and this area is what I was, and
am. I come here not often, but regularly, to
remind myself of that. It is a pleasant thing for
me to do.
Going Home To Clare
Dublin to Drumhilly The last of a 4 part series
by Jim Keane
Day 11 Doonbeg
Margeret’s sister Ann Marie and her husband
Kevin Kelley, our daughter Kate and our son
Jim and his wife Barb all left for Shannon
and their flight back to the United States.
They were all gone before I got up with a
splitting headache and a lifetime of wonderful
memories from a late night sing- along at
O’Keefe’s Pub in the Village of Cooraclare.
While we’d miss these five fellow travelers the
remaining six of us, our son Sean and his wife
Lisa, our daughter Meg and her boyfriend Rob
Pantling and Margaret and I would continue
our Irish journey. Meanwhile I had caught a
very bad cold , my nose was running wild and
I developed a sneezing jag.
The remaining six of us met Margaret’s
cousin Maggs Healy McGrath at the Doonbeg
Country Club, a short drive from Claunreasc.
Doonbeg CC is one of Ireland’s premier golf
resorts and was built upon Healy family
farmland by Greg Norman. Margaret’s mother
is a South Buffalo Healy whose father, John
Healy, emigrated from Doonbeg more than a
hundred years ago. The cottage where Maggs
grew up is still intact and is located directly on
the golf course itself and is used for ceisuins
for guests of the resort. Like the rest of Ireland
the farm house has come a long way. It now
bears an official name-The Shebeen. A few
hundred feet away from this cottage is the
ruins of Margaret’s grandfather’s childhood
home. Maggs got the key to her family’s
cottage at the front desk of Doonbeg CC and
took us on a cook’s tour of the cottage and
surrounding area.
We then took a tour of the Healy family
cemetery where Maggs’s dad and mom
are buried, along with Margaret’s great
grandparents.
About noon, Meg and Rob left for Dooiln while
Sean, Lisa, Margaret and I spent the rest of the
afternoon with Maggs at her new home which
she built for investment purposes. However,
with Ireland in a deep recession, flipping
this house will have to await an economic
recovery. Meanwhile Maggs offered the house
to us for use on future trips.
Day 12 The Burren
Sean, Lisa, Margaret and I drove to Doolin
to meet up with Meg and Rob. The plan was
to take the ferry to the Aran Islands, but the
weather wasn’t conducive for such a trip. It
was raining cats and dogs, the first and only
rain of the trip. So, we improvised, driving
to the Aliwee Cave in the Burren and to the
4000BC Poulnabrone Dolmen. The Dolmen
is a prehistoric gravemarker of sorts. Its
principally made of three giant stone slabs in
the form of the mathematical icon pii. Its about
20 feet high and 20 feet wide and has survived
the centuries. Before moving on to Ennis
we stopped at the prehistoric Caherconnell
Fort where I learned how to spell my eldest
grandson Connall’s name in Gaelic-Chonaill
Keane.
I purchased some Zirtec at a drug store in
Lahinch. It did the trick for my runny nose.
We had a delicious ham and chicken dinner
for lunch at Knox’s in Ennis. Our original plan
was to remain in Doolin for the music there,
but with the Aran Islands trip now sidelined,
we opted for some much needed down time
at Claunreasc. We put on a DVD and watched
“The Wind That Shakes the Barley,” a great
Irish movie about the Irish Civil War of 1920,
that pitted the pro-treaty forces of Michael
Collins against the anti-treaty forces of Eamon
DeValera. Maggs Healy told us that you can
still identify today those families who were
aligned with one side or the other. Apparently
the Doonbeg area is heavily populated by antitreaty folks.
Day 13
Aran Islands
Meg, Rob, Sean, Lisa, Margaret and I took the
ferry out to Inishore the closest and smallest
of the remote Aran Islands off Clare’s west
coast. It was a gorgeous 70 degree, sunny day.
Still both Lisa and Rob got sea sick aboard
the Tranquility, the boat run by the O’Brien
family that ferried us there. The O’Flaherty
Castle looms over the island along with a
cemetery and church ruins. Local lore has it
that the OFlaherty’s drove the O”Briens from
the island hundreds of years ago. But when
you see the beauty and prosperity of Lahinch
and its environs where the Obrien’s flourish,
you get the feeling that the O’Briens knew
what they were doing. Moreover, while the
O’Flahertys dominate the island, I discovered
the grave of one Jamesie Keane. On the way
back to the mainland, the captain stopped for
pictures at the base of the Cliffs of Moher. It
was a sight to behold, a thrilling moment.
We met up with Maggs and her brother Larry
at Comerford’s Pub in Doonbeg for our last
night in Ireland. Larry plays in a local band
and put this ceisuin together just for us-his
American cousins. We had a great time,
15
sharing songs and stories with relatives and
locals. One fellow sang the best rendition of
“The West Away” I’ve ever heard. At Larry’s
insistence, I sang several numbers including
my favorite, “The Town I Loved So Well.” We
ended the night at 1AM with a rendition of “A
Soldier’s Song,” the Irish National Anthem.
Day 14
Shannon
Up and at ‘em early for our flight back to the
USA. Margaret and I were singled out by Aer
Lingus staff for an upgrading to first class,
making the trip home ever more enjoyable and
comfortable than expected.
It’s a trip we will never forget and feel
privileged to have shared with our children
and other family members.
Ireland has changed dramatically since our first
visit in 1973 when cold beer and iced drinks
were scarce. When we first visited the Keane
family farm in Kilbaha, there was one electric
light bulb in the kitchen and an outhouse in the
yard. Cousin Frank has doubled the size of
the place and modernized it with a big screen
television. Doonbeg Country Club didn’t exist
back then. It was still a couple of dairy farms
owned and operated by several Healy families.
These days in Ireland you are now just as
likely to be served by a Polish bartender
or driven by a Czech cabby as you are by a
native Irishman or Irishwoman. However, one
thing hasn’t changed and that is the warmth
and indomitable spirit of the Irish people from
Dublin to Drumhilly. If you’re ever lucky
enough to go to Ireland, jump at the chance.
You’ll love it.
Caed Mile Failte!
The Buffalo Irish Center Presents
A Fundraising Concert Event
Biography:
Paul Byrom
Paul Byrom is often hailed as one of Ireland’s premier tenors. The Dublin-born
tenor became a professional singer by
the age of 12 when cast in his first opera with the National Concert Orchestra
of Ireland. He recorded his first album,
The Golden Voice, as a boy soprano at
the age of 14. His second release, Velvet, reached #2 in the Irish music charts
in 2005 leading to many appearances on
Irish Television and Radio, including
the Irish dance competition television
show, Celebrity Jigs and Reels, where
he qualified for the grand finale. In 2007
Byrom became one of the original soloists in the show Celtic Thunder where
his suave and romantic style earned him
the nickname, “The Swanky Tenor.”
Byrom and his original group mates sold
over 500,000 albums making them one
of the most successful PBS phenomena
of the decade and in 2008 Byrom’s solo
project, “I’ll Be Home for Christmas,”
charted well in the Classical Billboard
Charts. 2010 saw many changes for Byrom when he retired from his position as
lead tenor with Celtic Thunder, moved
from Dublin, Ireland to New York City,
and then released a solo album, “This Is
the Moment.” The album debuted at #1
on the World Billboard Charts and the
album release was promptly followed
by Byrom’s first solo tour of North
America and Canada in 2011 and 2012.
Byrom rounded out 2012 with the honor
of being named Best Irish Tenor by the
Irish Music Association. In early 2013,
he filmed a solo television special, also
titled “This Is the Moment,” to compliment his recent chart topping album
and national tour. The production was
filmed with a full, live orchestra under
the direction of critically acclaimed
Phil Coulter and was aired on Public
Television stations nationwide throughout 2013. Byrom released his 5th solo
album, “Thinking of Home,” in early
2014 with a supporting tour of the
United States. The album pays tribute
to both of Byrom’s homelands, Ireland
and America, and debuts his songwriting skills by highlighting two original
songs he penned, “A Sunny Morn in September,” and “Lady Liberty.” Byrom’s
talent as a tenor has taken him far and
wide, and some of the many highlights
of his career include performing for
many dignitaries including Irish President Mary McAleese, Emperor Akihito
of Japan, Former Irish President and
UN Commissioner for Human Rights,
Mary Robinson, and most recently for
United States President, Barack Obama.
As an avid sports fan, Byrom has been
delighted to perform at many largescale and high profile sporting events
including six All-Ireland Finals in
Croke Park, Dublin, International rugby
games in Lansdowne Road, and the new
Aviva Stadium, Dublin. Internationally,
he has performed Anthems for the Pittsburgh Steelers American Football team
at Heinz Field, for the Philadelphia
Phillies American Baseball team, and
for the world renowned football team,
Barcelona. Byrom is very proud now
to be a regular at the TD Garden, for
the Boston Celtics basketball team and
most recently performed at the Barclays
Centre, NY for the Brooklyn Nets.
crashing swooning swell; listeners may
feel as if they have passed through the
silver screen and into a forgotten Hollywood musical.” Grammy Award winner Julie Gold, composer of “From a
Distance” “BEAUTIFUL, WONDERFUL. I LOVED “From a Distance” and
feel you gave it a personal and respectful and unique performance. THANK
Irish Independent “He does not inter- YOU for honoring me in such a way.
pret the music so much as channel it, his Gorgeous voice and sweepingly elabovoice a dark, lustrous force of nature. rate and beautiful production.”
Around him, the orchestra conjures a
TO ADVERTISE IN THE NEXT EDITION OF THE:
BUFFALOIRISHTIMES
16

irish buffaloirishtimes

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