A Front-Loaded Inquiry; Act 1

I departed Minneapolis-St.Paul Airport mid afternoon on Monday, April 17 and after making a plane change in Boston, I was on the ground in Dublin around 8:30 AM, Tuesday, the 18th.

After  getting thru customs and baggage claims, I was soon at the Hertz car rental and picked up a little Renault Clio with a manual transmission.  I received a long explanation regarding insurance. I'd already purchased supplemental auto insurance coverage for two weeks, but no, I still had to sign up for an additional policy for liability. It turns out that car rentals in Ireland, Israel and Jamaica are problematic and require deposits, extra liability coverage and whatever else.  Yikes!  But since my trip was predicated on having an automobile, I went ahead, closed my eyes and signed on the dotted line and then pressed on.

Renault Clio

I had to SQUEEZE into this little beast.  The Clio was the 2nd size up of the smallest class of autos available but still, it is not very roomy.  Even so, it does have a back seat and 4 doors and a tailgate to the "boot".

I had brought along a suction cup unit that attached to the windshield and allowed me to magnetically attached the phone so that it hovers over the dashboard. With this I could use my phone as a GPS/SatNav.  I set the destination on the phone for the Town of Carlow.  My goal was to get out of the heavier traffic of Dublin as quickly as possible.  Carlow is the main town in County Carlow where "My" O'Rourke's are from.  I thought I would want to visit the historical society there.

The First Fifteen Minutes of Terror

The transition to driving on narrow roads and streets while relearning the "Drive on the Left-Side of the Road" system is always a challenge.  I call it The First Fifteen Minutes of Terror.  This initial period plus the following days of reinforcement, allows you to gradually overcome your ingrained motor memory and to look both ways properly before making turns in a backwards traffic system.  It's tricky.  In addition to this challenge, Ireland is notorious for narrow, winding and undulating roads and streets.  And to make it even more fun, I'm sitting on the right side of the car with my 6-speed stick transmission on the left.  Alice Through the Looking Glass...   So good luck!  Try not to kill anyone.

After my Automotive Baptism I gradually made my way out of town. A couple times I made a wrong turn. My focus was not on going on the right route, but on following all routes well.  No sudden attempts at correction.  Just carefully get out of the most intense of traffic and out of town.

After an hour, I was out of metropolitan Dublin and driving west on the M50, a 4 lane divided highway.  Following the voice commands of Google Maps, I took a number of turns leaving the 4-lane, and  navigating traffic circles onto a series of secondary highways, I eventually rolled into the town of Carlow and eventually found metered parking near the town center. After getting help from a passerby on how to operating the parking meter system, I walked two blocks to the building that housed both the library, tourism and traveler information center, area museum and historical society.  It was 11:30 AM Ireland Time.  What time in Wisconsin?  (6:30 AM)

Running on the Manic Energy of Jet-Lag

In the library, I told a librarian I was looking for ancestry-related info.  Oh yes, she brought forth a lady named Deidre who brought me thru security doors and up some stairs and introduced me to two gentlemen seated in the research section.  I started chattering away with Chris and Owen, telling them about my search for info on relatives in Marley in the area of St. Mullins at the south end of Carlow County.  

Chris and Owen

We were soon yapping away and exchanging stories and jokes unrelated to my quest.  Just getting into the habit of Irish chatter is so much fun and feeling a bit manic from the jetlag, I'm in full throttle!  Joking back and forth.  But Christopher Powers did some checking and came up with a link to digitized birth and marriage records for St. Mullins.  He was surprised at what he found.  He explained to me that usually there are not some records available from that period.  Frankly, he said, the Irish peasants were usually illiterate and only the priest could read and write.  So small parish records were typically haphazard or non-existent.  

He also suggested and wrote down names of several people whom I would want to contact when I get down in the St. Mullins area.  I stepped downstairs  and thru the library to get some change to feed the parking meter.  Mary, at the Visitor Information desk suggested where I could break a 50 Euro Note.  As I was talking with her I glanced down and saw a box on her desk with "Eileen O'Rourke" written on the top!  It turns out that Eileen is the head of the Carlow County Tourism Board and Mary's boss.   Eileen's O'Rourke relatives are from St. Mullins!  Holy Smokes!

Out of the Corner of My Eye, I Caught This!

Eileen O'Rourke From Her Linkedin Page

We chatted a while and she is a bit shocked that we might be related. She has a 95 year old mother living in New Ross and will talk with her this weekend to glean any info.  We exchange emails and I get her phone #.  A lot  was drawn in these first few hours in Carlow Town.   

A Nice Map of County Carlow.  St. Mullins is at the Bottom

Back in the Automobile, I headed down to the bottom of the county where St. Mullins is located along the Barrow River.  Just to the west is Couny Kilkenny and to the east is County Wexford.

When I arrived at St. Mullins, I found it to be little more than perhaps 10 houses and a pub at a fork in the road.  The main feature is the ancient, ruined abbey and the adjacent burial ground.

But appearances are deceiving.  At various times over the last 1000 years, this would have been a busy place.  The Abbey was founded in the 7th Century and was the focus of a regional pilgrimage (still happens each year) for the area Irish.  A Wikipedia Article on the subject is Here.  

The Vikings came up the Barrow River and did raids in the area and then took over parts of the area. The ocean tides come up the river as far as here.   In 917 there was major battle here between high Irish King of Leinster and the major Viking group out of Dublin.  This was the Battle of Confey.   My understanding the the Vikings who settled around Dublin were from Denmark.  The Vikings who came up the Shannon River and took over the area around Limerick were from the fjords of Norway.  

General Schematic of the St. Mullins Abby Footprint

I did not want to spend the time walking over the burial grounds this late afternoon.  But I wanted to have the "Lay of the Land" in my mind and so did briefly got out of the car and looked it over.  

St Mullins Abby Ruins  and Burial Grounds (with old Protestant Church to the left)

I drove north a few miles to the town of Graiguenamanagh and found the Brandon Hill Campground.  There, I met Ken Walsh, the owner, who was most accommodative and showed me where I could set up my little tent.  It was early in the season and still very cool and so I was the only camper.  Ken's trying to market to the "Glamping" (Glamorous Camping) segment of the camping market.  There was a self-catering kitchen area and lounge, showers and toilets.  For €15 it was a good deal!  I drove down the hill to the nearby ALDI, picked up some microwaveable groceries and came back "Home" for the night, set up the tent, had dinner and then crawled into the tent and collapsed, sleeping for nearly 12 hours!  Good Night!

Wednesday the 19th

I have three different tents back home.  Since I wasn't certain I would even need one, I brought the smallest, a little Kelty tent which is good for shelter but is a bit tight and impossible to sit up in.  I compare it to a large bizy sac with a larger hoop frame at the front and a minimal hoop at the foot end  Additionally, I skimped on pillows when I was packing which I have subsequently regretted.  I had a couple tiny bits of foam for my head and supplemented these with bunched up clothing.  The mattresses were fine (two ThermoRests).  My MountainGear lightweight goose down sleeping bag keeps me warm. But the temps this April in Ireland turn out to be unseasonable cool.  High 30s to low 40s F at night.  So I had to be zipped up securely.  

Nevertheless, I slept hard this first night, recovering from the shift in time zones.  I probably could have slept on cold cement! 

After making a breakfast and taking a shower, I sealed up the tent and got in the car and headed down to St. Mullins to take a walk and look at the Abbey ruins and burial grounds. 

    I pulled up to the front wall of the burial grounds and got out and heard the sound of what were weedwhips.  There was a crew of three guys out in among the tombstones, trimming the tufts of grass.  The burial grounds in Ireland are haphazard with one plot crowding up on the other.  They are all shoehorned in.  Quite a quaint mess.  There is little semblance of a grid and so using any sort of push mower would be impossible.  I'm guessing that in the old days sheep kept it trimmed. I greeting the guys with a wave and a hello and then started walking back to the ruins.  

Consecrated Chaos

Round Tower Foundation

The Abbey had been a collection of buildings at one time.  Not, there are a 5-6 roofless remains.  Also, there is a massive foundation of what was once a "Round Tower".  The Round Towers of Ireland

were used both for bell towers and also as a form of protection for the important relics and other valuable items of the Abbeys.  Typically, there was an entrance door 14+ feet above the ground.  If raiders including the Vikings, were approaching the Abbey, the brothers could climb the ladder and pull it up after them.  A stout door with a series of braces, would keep the door sealed against any attacker.  

Round Tower Schematic

As I walked over the grounds of the Abbey, I meditated how my ancient ancestors might have been involved in construction, moving of stones and earth in the specific place.  

Old Worship Interior

I quietly walked about the ruins and took photos. Periodically I would pause and gaze at the rock walls and meditate.  Then I'd take another 20 paces and stop and consider from another angle.  

    One area I did not spend much time in was the burial yard.  The tombstones there were generally no more than 150 years old.  The older ones were almost impossible to read, having been worn away by weathering and time.  In any case, our O'Rourke ancestors were poor tenant farmers and would not have been able to afford headstones.  So, I had no hope of finding them here.  

Old Protestant Church

There is one intact building attached to the ruins. This is an old abandoned Protestant church, Church of Ireland, of more recent vintage (200 years old?)  It is now used by the local St. Mullins Historical Society and was locked up when I tried the door.

Coming to the front of the burial grounds, I asked one of the workers if he was from these neighborhood.  Yes, he was. His name was Michael Deegan.  Michael, do you know where I could find John Curran?  Absolutely!  He gave me directions in how to drive northeast and thru the down of Glynn (where he lived) and to go a little further and take a right turn on a side road.  Thanks!

I believe I was told by another family historian that a sister of my 4x great grandfather, Michael O'Rourke, had married a Curran man. The Currans live near where the O'Rourkes tilled the soil.  I had been given an email a month back and made inquiry and had been told that I could come and the Currans. John, the father, would be willing to meet and perhaps show me where things were centuries ago.

Back in the car, I drove on the winding roads up to and thru the town of Glynn.  A bit beyond I took a turn onto a smaller road and after climbing several hills and getting to a higher ridge, I stopped at a dairy farm.  They I met Noel and she told me where the Currans live (I'd passed the driveway a little ways back).  

Noel and I talked Dairy Farming a bit.  I have a dairy background and milked many cows as well as worked in the industry.  So I can "Talk The Talk" and relate to farmers well.

Noel Murphy and Her "Nippy" Dog (muzzled)

The Murphy's Milking Parlor

I asked her a number of questions about the family farm and she gave me a bit of a tour.  The double-eight milking parlor was very nice and I was much admiring of the layout.  

After leaving Noel, I drove back to the Currans and me John's wife, Geraldine.  John was at work but we made arrangements for me to come back at 7:00 in the evening.

The River Barrow

After returning from my drive up the find the Currans,  I headed back down to St. Mullins and thought I would go down to see the River Barrow.

The Barrow is a major part of this region and it's history. The Barrow is the 2nd longest river in Ireland after the Shannon. For over a millennium people rowed or sailed their boats up the river with the tide, trading, moving grain, wool, commodities.  The Vikings would come up the river on raiding expeditions.  A while before 1800 a Canal Company Was Established so that barges could pass by shallows and rapids and move commodities further up and down the valley.  St. Mullins Lock was the first lock above the tidal surge.  -

Around 11:00 AM I parked the car along the River, got out and took a look up and down the valley.  I had passed some old buildings that had been refurbished and fancied up with decorations, picnic tables under awnings. Obviously, a place to get a meal.  Also, I could see 'put-ins' for canoes, kayaks and small motor boats.  

The Mullichain Cafe

I saw a gentleman walking nearby as I headed for a side door.  "Going in the kitchen entrance?" He asked.  I laughed and said it's the only way to go, like a scene out of Good Fellows.  He laughed as we both walked thru the kitchen.  At the counter I met a younger man.  Mark.  And then I found out the older gentleman was his father, Martin O'Brien.  They owned this building, an old multi-story warehouse from the 1800s.  

Soon I was sitting with Martin, having lunch and chatting for the next 90 minutes.  The O'Brien's were an intelligent crew.  Dad had been the Irish sales manager for a German Pharmacutical company and had a long and successful career.  But he was also an avid canoeist and used to take groups of working class kids from Dublin on trips all over Ireland.  We talked about outdoor activities, business, politics and history.  What a great time!  I also met Martin's wife Emer, an intelligent and attractive lady. 

Martin and Emer O'Brien with their Slovakian Waitress

After sharing the meal with Martin and Emer, I stepped outside and took a walk up and down the river.  I saw the first lock and passed by a number of personal boats in tied up to the river bank.    It is my understanding from Mark O'Brien that you can rent a barge type boat and travel Ireland including the Barrow.  If I remember correctly, the Barrow has over 25 locks.

Canal Locks on the Barrow

Locks on the Barrow

After walking along the river, I called Mary O'Neill.  Her name had been suggested to me by the folks at the Carlow Historical Society. She's the local history expert and for years ran the St. Mullins Heritage Center.  She (and her father before) were in charge of the burial grounds and she has been the "Go To" person for the the history of local people. She answered the phone and we chatted briefly and set an appointment to meet at 5:00 in the afternoon.  I also had the appointment to meet the John Curran at his home but figured Mary and I would be able to cover things in not more than an hour.

St. Mullins Holy Well

I drove up the hill from the river and looked for the Holy Well of St. Mullins  and found it up.   This site had been a place of pilgrimage since medieval times and the well is still venerated for its powers of Healing.  Friar Clyn, the Kilkenny chronicler reported that in 1349, while the Black Death was raging in the area, thousands of people made the pilgrimage to wade in the water of the well. There were several inlets, plus alcoves with votive offerings, prayer beads, photos of the afflicted or dead loved ones  A place for prayer and supplication.

After visiting the well, I traced the waters running downstream into the medieval millrace.  The Abbey used to have a mill here.  Subsequent millers down the stream also ground grain into flour.  Eventually, these waters in the millrace flowed into the Barrow.

Driving back up to a house next to the pub, I found Mary O'Neill and we spent a pleasant hour in conversation.  This chat was begun in her living room where she explained how she had unearthed the old parish records for St. Mullins and that these were indexed and collated into a book.  There had been a grant from the council that paid for young people to laboriously read thru each page for both baptisms, marriages and deaths. These were then indexed by names.  This was the record that Christopher Power had referred to when I met him at Carlow Historical Society.

Mary O'Neill at the Picnic Table

Mary and I left her place and drove 200 yards back up to the burial grounds and we sat at the picnic table and talked some more.  While she has no children of her own, she has a number of nieces and nephews here in St. Mullins.  One lives within 100 feet of the burial grounds. This historical effort has been a multi-generational effort and will continue on after Mary is gone.  

We rose from the picnic table and walked amongst the graves.  Mary and I held hands to steady one another as we navigated.  She knows of my O'Rourke ancestry and told me that while there were no old O'Rourke headstones from 200 years ago, she pointed out several more recent ones.

One of the O'Rourke's Who Stayed

Mary also showed me the Penal Altar that was used in those earlier times when under the Penal Laws it was illegal for Catholics to worship and have mass.  Penal alters were a way to have clandestine worship up on the top of hills or in burial yards where they were able to see a column of British Troopers coming. She pointed out the peep hole in the back of the altar alcove where a lookout could keep an eye peeled for anyone on the road. 

Mary and Penal Altar

Imagined Mass at the Altar

I asked Mary about the local landlord.  The family was the Kavanaugh's and were generally respected. During Penal Law Times Thomas Kavanagh had converted from Catholicism to the Church of Ireland (Protestant) in order to be able to maintain his position to own land within the British legal system.  Some locals thought he had traded his soul for property.  But that was a bit much.  He just wanted to keep his family heritage. He was a reasonable landlord and would adjust rents downward for families in serious distress.  When the famine was at it's worse, he would give families  £5 so that they could book passage on a ship for the entire group to emigrate to America. This was a lot of money back then. Some commentators were cynical and said that this was a way Kavanagh to clear the land of unwanted passage.  But this is not really true. The landlords could have just evicted the tenants who could not pay their rents (as many did) and drive them out onto the road and into the poorhouse, where many would have died from starvation and disease.  But the Kavanaghs did not. It is complicated and all were under stresses.  Not all landlords were bloodsucking parasites.

Arthur Kavanagh, "The Cripple"

Mary also told me about the son of Thomas, Arthur Kavangh who was called "The Cripple" because he was born without arms nor legs.  In spite of this, his mother refused to let him not live up to his potential.  He was taught to read and write and eventually was able to ride in a basket on top of a horse! Later artificial limbs were made that allowed him to do more that just sit.  His two older brothers died and so he eventually became the Lord of the Manor.  He would ride his horse over his holdings and visit his tenants and eventually was elected to the British House of Commons where he was an advocate for land reform for Irish farmers, allowing them to purchase the land that they tilled.  Out of curiosity I asked Mary if Arthur had any children. Yes, six children!  Really!?  "Apparently he wasn't lacking all his appendages!" Mary wryly remarked.  Apparently, he made productive use of it.  Amazing!

Mary is a wealth of knowledge about the local lore and I listened attentively to her.  I told her that this work she has done is a wonderful testimony of intergenerational love and commitment.  I'll have to come back with a contribution to her St. Mullins project...

Around 6:40 I left Mary and got in the Clio and drove back thru Glynn and up to the Currans.  There I met John and Geraldine.  Soon we were sitting in their kitchen.  They recalled their times with Linda, the American lady whom my daughter and I have met on the internet and by phone conversation.  Linda, and her Aunt Jane before her, had done extensive research in our O'Rourke line.  Their people had left Wisconsin and moved out to the remote panhandle of Nebraska where they established themselves as pioneer farmers/cowboys.   So there was a major physical separation between the branches of the families.  But we shared our origins in this southern part of County Carlow.

The connection with the Curran's is that one of the O'Rourke sisters who stayed behind in Ireland married a Curran.  So, John and Mary and I are sort of 'inlaws'.  

I explained to John and Geraldine the connection to Linda and her family group and that I was looking to see where the O'Rourke's had tilled the soil in the 1700's.  While we were chatting, John's sister, Mary, showed up as well as the son, Jim.  We all we soon chatting away like the long lost family that we were.  John is a professional plasterer and he showed me some of the work he had done both on the exterior and interior of his home.  He's a true Artisan and I admired the patterned strokes he had done on his living room ceiling.  Jim works for a company that applies laminate surfaces to specialized wood components and showed me a sample of their products.  The firm he works for has about a 40 person staff and their work is somewhat high tech.

Some of John's Plastering Handiwork

Mary and John and I went for a drive in the evening twilight. They brought me back up to near where Noel Murphy and their family have their dairy farm. Near there they pulled over to the side of the road and got out and we looked around. They pointed to the north side of the road. At one time there was a line of 6-7 stone cottages and the O'Rourke's were there.  The cottages are long gone but I looked at the stone wall along the road and thought that probably some of the stones in the wall had originally been parts of the cottages.  The spot was on a ridge that the road followed and I could see that O'Rourke's had a nice view of the surrounding hills. I paused for a moment and turned about and took in the panorama.

Former Site of the O'Rourke Cottages.....
A Lovely View

Mary and John wanted to go back to the burial ground to show me a couple headstones of family so we drove back down to St. Mullins.  We were soon stumbling about  the irregular ground in the dark with flashlights.  I was a bit confused at this point as to connections with the names on the tombstones but I took a number of photos do document these so I could perhaps figure it all out later.  I am grateful for the kindness and generosity of both Mary and John as well as previously of Mary O'Neill.  Sweet Souls!

Mary and John Showing Tombstone Details

John, Myself and Mary

After saying goodbye to the Curran's, I took a night time drive back to my campsite, a drive of perhaps 7 miles.  I was soon in my tent and tucked in for the night after a long day.

Thursday, April 20th

In the morning I heard the crunch of wheels on the driveway near the tent.  The vehicle stopped.  I unzipped the tent entrance and the exterior fly and looked out.  It was John Curran!  He was going to work but he wanted to see my tent setup.  I was surprised but pleased and soon was out of the tent and showed him how small the tent was but that the mattresses were thick and the bedding warm. He was impressed.  We also talked about an interest he has in big Trucks.  18-wheeler types.  In his car he had bound notebooks with laminated sheets of various types of trucks.  John was an obvious enthusiast!  I appreciated his interest in my setup and we both took some photos.

John Curran and My Lodgings

After John departed for his work, I made myself some breakfast.  Then I headed off to Glynn.  I had made an appointment with Father Aughney.  The Reverent has been the local priest for over 30 years.  I pulled up to the parsonage south of Glynn and was greeted by Father Aughney and we sat down in his booklined study and spent an hour in conversation.  He had one of the three copies of Mary O'Neil's book and I looked briefly at it and photographed the 4 pages of indexed O'Rourke records.  It might be handy later.

    Otherwise, the Father and I talked generally about family's seeking their roots and how sometimes the emotional reactions can be overwhelming for some of the folks who discover connections back in Ireland.  The Father told me of one instance over 30 years ago when he answered a written request from Australia.  He had dug up baptismal records from the early 1800s, wrote out a certificate of this and mailed it back to Australia.  Less than two months later an automobile pulled up to his office and out stepped 3 people.  When they had gotten the certificate, they were compelled to book a flight to Ireland to see where they were from.

    The man talked to the Father and then started to weep.  He said when he received the baptismal record, he was overwhelmed.  He said he was so relieved that his family had a hope back then and were not itinerants!  He felt like he was coming home!  A very touching and poignant story.

Father Aughney of the Parish of Glynn

I thanked Father Aughney for his time and then departed, heading north.  I decided that I would like to see the Kavanagh "Big House" in Boris.  This was the seat of the family for generations.  There had been a previous castle there and then apparently this had been reworked in the early 1700s into a more 'Modern' family home.

At the town of Boris I saw a large stone estate gate house and made a left turn and drove thru. The entire estate seemed to be surrounded by tall rock walls.  There was an orange cone stranding in the entrance that seemed to indicate the estate was closed to visitors. But I shrugged this off and drove up the paved driveway to a parking area.  There I got out of the car and surveyed. This was a BIG estate with outbuildings that looked like they could accommodate 6-8 family sized apartments.

Old Staff Residences of the Estate

.

The Big House and Family Chapel

I strolled around the back side of the Big House and then circled around to the front.  It was a bit of "Downton Abbey".  This can be used as a venue for weddings and receptions.  Information is Here .

After taking this in for a few minutes, I started walking across the frontal pasture and then circled to the east and with the Manor House in the distance.  I followed a farm track west, up between big old oak trees and saw another high well finished stone wall.  There was a door in a wall and I opened it and walked thru. 

The Garden Door

Within was a smaller flower garden and what at first appeared like a normal old two story farm house.with two dogs sunning themselves in front.  I talked to them and one got up and walked over to me. I leaned down and offered him the back of my hand to smell.  He gave me a sniff and then allowed me to pet him and give him a scratch behind the ear.  Then he sauntered back to his spot and lay back down.    

    I knocked on the door but there was no answer.  Then I walked back out to the garden and looked west towards the Barrow Valley and the Brandon Hill. Turning back, I saw that there was an extensive modern portion to the house with a large expanse of windows so that the occupants could admire the view.

Glassed Addition to the Farm House

I stepped back thru the door in the wall and out towards a field.  I saw a Blue tractor in the distance, dragging an implement.  I leaned against a fence post and watched the tractor moving along.  It went in one direction to the end of the field and then turned around and returned in my direction.  As it got close to the headland I could see the driver and gave him a wave and walked toward him and he slowed to a stop.  He opened the cab door and I pulled myself up the first two steps.  I reached into the cab, offering my hand which he took. A solid looking fellow with brown-gray hair and a ruddy red face.  I smiled and said, I'm sorry to bother you. I'm a trespasser the the USA! I've a farm background and have done field work and was admiring you moving along.  If I may ask, who owns this place, the county?  No, I do, he replied.  Really! How many acres. A little over 600.  Did you buy it all at once?  No, it's been in the family for years.  If I may ask, what's your name?  Kavanagh.  

I laughed and shook his hand again and said "My Lord!" My people were your tenants two hundred years ago before emigrating to North America!  Mr. Kavanagh started looked a little annoyed and said I'm sorry, but I've got to get back to work.  I smiled obligingly and thanked him for his time and lowered myself back to the ground.  As he was pulling away, I took a photo of the tractor as he left. 

The Lord Kavanagh and Tractor

It was so odd and strange to have added this "Return of the Native" experience to my explorations.  Part of me was a bit embarrassed by my boldness. A terribly, brazen American!  But I was happy to have been able to meet Mr Kavanagh and connect all these strands together in this experience.  In the first 36 hours of my visit I have been able to meet a number of people that are all connected to my family's heritage.  A most interesting journey.

With this meeting with Kavanagh I felt that I had more-or-less, pulled a meaningful measure of information and leads regarding the O'Rourke's. These I carry take back home to share with other family members.

My intention was to now drop my family history focus for a while and go for a drive.  My goal was to go back to a local library at Graiguenamanagh, do some reading, buy some groceries and then sleep one more night in my tent. I had been lucky to have avoided rain but now there was a weather prediction of impending rains in this southern portion of Ireland.  So, it is time for me to Get Out of Dodge!

Friday, April 21

I broke camp, stuffing my sleeping bag, mattresses and tent back in their  stuff bags and headed south for New Ross in County Wexford.  Rains are predicted and I knew I'd have to think about alternative lodging for the next couple days.  I thought perhaps I'd be able to find some hostels in New Ross.

Several folks had recommended the "Famine Ship" in New Ross.  I was a bit hesitant about this since I have a pretty deep knowledge of those famine years.  At home in Wisconsin I have a big Irish related bookshelf and have read and covered the ground regarding the famine a number of times both in visits to Ireland as well as in my readings.  The Potato Famine was a Tragic and a major part of modern Irish history.  The population of Ireland was estimated to be nearly 9 million prior to the famine.  As a direct result, a million or more died.  There was a then a great, sustained emigration from Ireland that continued for the next century.  The Irish Diaspora was remarkable.  Ireland was the only country in western Europe that consistently lost population over the next 120 year period, bottoming out at around 2.8 million by 1961.  

    Besides the actual emigration, the structure of Irish families shifted.  Women started delaying marriage and with this, their age for 1st pregnancy.  So, rather than starting at age 19-20, they put off making babies until their late 20s or even later.  As a result, this lowered fertility rate, combined with the outflow of population contributed to the century plus demographic collapse.

The Dunbrody "Famine Ship"

In spite of my hesitation, I decided to give the Dunbrody a look, and after arriving at New Ross, I found ship and visitor center along the River Barrow.  The tide was out and I could see the mudflats along the quay.  Although the ship was in the water, I was pretty sure is was actually sitting on the mud at low tide.  I went into the visitor center and paid for my "Passage" on the ship.

Steerage Section. A Bunk for Each Family

The Dunbrody "Famine Ship" is a nicely put together exhibit with a couple reenactors portraying passengers.   The William Graves & Sons company did not run "Coffin Ships" and greater majority of passengers on their ships did arrive in the New World in good health.  But on a 7-9 week passage in steerage, sometimes on rough seas, people did die.  But the ships were well run and while steerage was cramped and very bare bones, But there was nothing new for me here.   

The one thing that comes to my mind is that my great grandparents of both sides of the family left Ireland at different times, bracketing the Famine. The O'Rourke's left Ireland around 1835, a decade prior to the Famine.  The Crotty's/Naughton's departed around 1850 after the worst killing years of 1846-48.  

Passage Booked on the Dunbrody to Savannah Georgia

There are many famine related sites and venues in Ireland.  I've visited a number of "Famine Museums".  It was a seminal event and and ongoing theme and a heartfelt narrative that they share with the visitors.  For myself, I've seen enough.

After spending about 90 minutes with the Dunbrody experience, I went back out to my car and got on the phone and called the three hostels.  But they were all either closed or changed to B&B's.  Not good.

Since I had no real further agenda for this area, I paused to consider.  I still wanted to do some basic investigations of the Crotty group whose origin was the western County of Clare.  So, I was bound to go west anyway.  I have visited Dingle in Country Kerry on several previous bike tours such as my Dawdling In Dingle bike tour in 2015.  Familiar ground. I know the "Lay of the Land" and am somewhat invested in that place.  So, after drawing a blank on finding a hostel in New Ross, I thought I'd just drive to Dingle which is just south of County Clare.  I made a call to a familiar hostel, The Rainbow.  Yes, I could get a room but they didn't have dorms anymore, just private rooms.  Essentially, a B&B with a self-catering kitchen. I sighed but went ahead and signed up for a €60 room and knew that I had a place to stay for the night.

Slea Head on the Dingle Peninsula, 2015

I am not in Ireland to view the sites. I've been here 7-8 times and have enjoyed the place and the people. But my main goal here is to be away from Wisconsin for two weeks (!?) and do the family history project.  Not to sightsee.  So, I spent the late morning and much of the afternoon, following the directions of my GPS, working my way across Ireland.  This was about 170 miles (270 kilometers) to 

Arriving in Dingle, I checked into the Rainbow. At least it was a familiar place. I was glad to be here in Dingle where I know where the Lidl Store is, the ATM at Supervalue, the roundabouts.  Not home but good enough.

So, a fairly eventful day but a shift from County Carlow.  

Saturday, April 22

The next morning I headed over to the Rainbow's self-catering kitchen and had breakfast.  Down at the end of the table was a German speaking father and daughter.  He looked to me in his mid 50s and her around 20.  We had a nice chat.  They were Swiss.  Peter and Lucy.  A very nice pair on holiday.  Ultimately, I invited Peter to come over to the midwest and visit me and I'd be glad to show him around.  I'm like that.  I've invited the Currans, Eileen O'Rourke and others.  I love guest and I know that I can provide them an experience they would not get if they took a tour bus!  

Father and Daughter on Holiday

I checked out of the Rainbow, got in the car and drove down to the local Lidl grocery store.  While there I heard in the distance the sound of an auctioner's bit-calling patter.  Looking to the west I saw a parking lot  trucks with livestock trailers.  Probably a weekly, local Saturday morning auction.  I drove around the corner and entered the auction barn parking lot, got out and walked up into the Dingle Co-op Livestock Mart barn and thru a series of stock gates. In the large barn there were scores of pens and an assortment of sheep and cattle in some of them.  I found the auction ring and the the familiar scene of stockmen leaning over the rails, watching the animals coming in, being walked around a little as bits were put in against the called price.  Sold!  Then out they'd go and another lot of sheep or cattle would come thru.  I climbed up to the top bleachers so I could have a good view, took some photos, and listened to the Irish Auctioner doing his call.  Familiar and yet different.  I remember visiting a cattle auction in Cashel years ago.  I remember some there saying they had a continuous weekly livestock auction there for over a thousand years!   That sort of continuity of a community impressed me.

The Dingle Livestock Auction Ring

After the auction, I drove out to the west of town and off a familiar country road to Broigin B&B.  While I have never been one for B&B's, this is the exception.  Johnjoe and Ann Curran are here. They had a dairy farm and raised 11 children and originally did the B&B in their home as well, for supplement income.  But nearly 40 years they built a separate building and moved the B&B business there.  When I showed up here in March, in the year 2000, they were still milking cows.  I remember the distant drone of the vacuum pump during the morning and evening milking.

    Any place that had an real agricultural connection always has a special attraction to me.  I've a degree in Ag and have milked cows, raised sheep (and lots of lambs) and run farm equipment.  This was a long time ago in my life but I always have an affinity for smaller farm operations and the challenges that come with it.  Weather, sick animals, mud and shit and urine.  Fences to built and maintained. Market prices to be paid attention to.  Lot's of "Moving Parts".  

Although I hadn't seen Anne for 8+ years, She immediately called me out by name and gave me a hearty hug!  It felt a little bit like coming home. Anne and I made arrangements for me to stay two nights in a cozy upstairs room with a toilet, shower and a lovely little writing desk.  This so I could write down my notes regarding the ancestral investigations.  Thanks Anne!

Anne and Daughter in 2015

I feel very kindred feelings for this particular Curran family.  I've met several of the children over the years and have a little more than a passing interest.  In previous years in discussion, Anne and I realized we were nearly identical in age, having been born within weeks of oneanother.  "Same Make, Same Model!" she had said.  We both were blonde and could have passed for siblings which made me smile.  As a boarder, my involvement in their family is very tangential.  Nevertheless I deeply appreciate being recalled warmly and have a feeling of connection.

Later, after getting settled in, I went outdoors and ended up chatting with son, Robert.  The last time I visited, he and his family were living in Australia, employed in construction.  Now, he lives in Ennis and is involved in modular construction for homes, hotels, student accommodations, with a firm named LMC Modular.  A very intelligent guy, Robert is.  This weekend he was visiting and here to help put down new gravel on the driveway and apron. I took a photo of him with the old diesel tractor which still has plenty of life in it although it shows the wear of age (like we all do after decades of hard use!)

Robert Curran and the Family Tractor

Anne had a mask since she was nursing a serious cold and did not want to pass it on.  So while I got the good initial hug, we had to keep back from one another.  Also, Johnjoe was seriously sick and so the family was understandably keeping low.  As I wrote before, I am not in sightseeing mode on this trip and so while Dingle is spectacular, other than taking some local hikes, I am staying close to 'home'.  Below are a few photos from the subsequent couple of days.

My Small But Perfect Bedroom
(With ensuite Toilet and Shower)

Dining Room Wall

Eask Tower on Carhoo Hill

Theresa's Family Owns the Land
€3 Charge to Cross Their Farm

Looking North To the Harbor and Dingle Town

Eask Tower
(Built During the Famine)

Looking Out to Sea

Monday, April 24

Anne's cold was clearing up and she was feeling better and we gave one other a deep hug.  I told her and she and any of her family would like to come and be given a tour of the small town and rural USA, to let me know.  I would be so pleased to sees them again.  

From Broigan, I drove east thru Dingle and up Connor Pass.  At the top of the pass I stopped and took a photo of this lovely, windswept panorama and then headed east.  My destination was County Clare  that sits north, across the Shannon River estuary from County Kerry. There I had intentions to investigate more family origins. 

Looking North From Connor Pass