Irish Genealogy Newbie?
Author: PeterFor many of us that develop an interest in genealogy and family history, there is often a single point in time at which we became ‘hooked' For others, it is something they have grown up with because of a general family interest in history or because of belonging to a noble family, with deep ancestry itself.
For me, it was something that came late in life. But, I was thinking about this recently and remembered an incident which happened to me many years ago at the age of 10. I have to put this in context; although my parents were both Irish, I was born in England and this is where we lived, visiting Ireland every year. For a 10 year old boy this was always an exciting experience. Visiting from London in the 1970s, Ireland was a very strange parallel world, where old men
smoked pipes, sat in a corner of the room, regaling past stories and commenting on the politics of the day. The woman of the house proffered an endless supply of tea and cake, commenting about the fine young new priest in the parish – my brother and I not taking the hint.
It was on one of these journeys to Ballinamore, County Leitrim, to visit my mother's relations that this incident occurred. We were heading home after our days visiting but, had stopped at the Central Hotel in the Main Street for a ‘bit of tea'. It was a budget affair and the only other diners were members of a showband who were playing in the town that night. For some reason they were all wearing dark glasses and according to my dad very funny, but I remember not understanding a word they said – they were ‘from the north'.
We stopped outside the hotel, my dad to light his cigarette and my mum to use the ladies room. As happens, my mum had met some old relation inside and a marathon chat ensued. Meanwhile, some American tourists had emerged from the hotel. My dad, being my dad, struck up a conversation. It transpired they had been to Ireland for two weeks searching for their ancestors and were due to leave the next day, heartbroken that they hadn't achieved any real success. ‘Oh that's disappointing' my Dad said. ‘What are your names'? They replied. ‘Oh, I see and where would your people be from'. They informed him. ‘Ah' said my Dad ‘that would be John wee Pat form Bally…….' And for the next half hour my dad entertained them with tales of families, specific ancestors, meanings of surnames and places, notable characters and much advice on where to look further. Our tourists, mouths open looked as though they had been presented to the Angel Gabriel himself at the gates of Heaven. Muttering much praise and thanks they floated away content they could return home, something achieved.
Mum finally closed dialogue and we walked down the street to our car. In somewhat of a state of awe and disbelief I said ‘Dad, how did you know all of that stuff'. After a short pause he replied ‘Ah well, I made half of it up'. Silence. I don't know if I was more disappointed that my Dad had made up some of the stories or that he had set a bad example for me.
It was one of those few experiences in life where you have a very clear recollection of the event. Like when you remember a traumatic event at school – it has some significant meaning for you. I wouldn't say that from that moment I developed an interest in history (I didn't know what genealogy and ancestry was at that age) but, I did look forward even more to those visits home. Yes, I say home, because even then, returning to our house in England I experienced a sense of homesickness. It is a closeness that is difficult to describe – it is an attachment, a sense of belonging that, even now, when I visit the old run down cottage, it sends shivers down my spine - the cottage where we stayed on our visits, where granny ‘chuck-chucked' the chickens at feeding time, washing our faces in the morning in a bowl filled from a stream outside the door of the cottage, the smell of granddads Gold Plug Tobacco………
It was much later in life, finding myself out of work, that I took up a tangible (writing things down instead of feeding my childhood imagination) interest in ancestry and family history. But when did I really first get the ‘bug'. I like to think that it was back then as a 10 year old and I that have been under an apprenticeship ever since. Unfortunately I didn't inherit my dad's amazing
memory for facts and figures, or storytelling, but he proves to be a valuable consultant in my current genealogy work. And what of the information he gave to the American tourists – did he make half of it up? We have to remember, he came from a generation, when storytelling was the past time in the evenings and embellishing a tale was part of the device. What he told them was based on fact, with a little colour and drama thrown in. When conducting genealogy research today, particularly Irish genealogy and listening to stories from granny – we must take them with a pinch of salt. Good ancestry research and reporting should be supported by references and a list of sources used, otherwise it has no merit. However, I do hope we never lose that gift the Irish are renowned for – telling a good yarn.
So, although I am relatively new to Genealogy research, I feel I have been practicing and preparing since a small boy got hooked all those years ago.
Did I make this story up? – you decide.
Peter
Article Source: http://www.articlesbase.com/genealogy-articles/irish-genealogy-newbie-4212528.html
About the AuthorPeter runs a personal genealogy research service based in Ireland. He specialises in working with people who may have been conducting their own research but got stuck making the Irsih connection.
Photographs are copyright of Irish Family Ancestry and may only be used with authors permission
No comments:
Post a Comment