Born on St Patrick's Day: Happy 115th Mary

They say that its good luck to be Irish, and that the luckiest of all are those who are born on St Patrick's Day. No doubt this is what was said the day that my great grandmother was born. However, her life was not necessarily filled with the good luck that the superstition had predicted. As much as she had a hard life, her life was also an "ordinary" one of a young British immigrant to Canada. Despite that, the simple life she led in youth was filled with fun. She embrace the changing times, new found freedoms, and innovations. Its the heirlooms from that chapter of her life that fascinate me the most because they show aside to her that none of my relatives knew - a woman who was happy. So today, I am going to share the side of her that one of those heirlooms tells. I have a small black autograph book that was hers.  At almost 100 years old, the book binding has all but disintegrated yet the leather cover is in near pristine condition and the partially bound pages are al

Separating Family History from Folklore

My Christmas break from blogging lasted a little longer than I initially planned, but now I am finally back (or at least I hope!). During my time off I had plenty of time to reflect on the events of my childhood, more importantly the time I spent with my recently deceased grandfather. He was a man that was an absolute legend in his own right. Grandpa was a gifted storyteller and had the innate ability to tell a story so that it remained captivating no matter how many times one heard it. As I remembered these stories I couldn't help but notice they all traced back to one thing - family. Every story he ever told was either about his life, one of his ancestor's lives, or was a story that one of his ancestor's had told him in his youth. This oral history of sorts always fascinated me. As I grew older though I began to question how much of them was fact and how much was fiction. Many of my  relatives said we would never know how much truth there was to the stories that he told, however I think that my research is the closest we will ever get to determining this. 

Lets take a look at one of the first stories that ever made me raise an brow in question. He told me about how our family came to Canada from Ireland only mere years before the 'Potato Famine' formally began. He claimed that our ancestor's sustained themselves on the voyage by eating dried potato peels. Once they arrived in Canada they obtained land in New Brunswick and embarked on building a life there. All of that checked out, right down to the year that he claimed they arrived. I found immigration records, land grants, and a marriage certificate that confirmed this. The part that I was questioning though was not the actual voyage itself, but rather that the woman who survived such a voyage lived long enough to meet his eldest brother (who was born in the early 1920's). He said that his brother would hide himself in and around the layers of said woman's black dress. There are a few things about that later portion of this story that made me question it. First off the math was not making that much sense. If this story was true she would have been at least 90 years old (assuming she came over the year she was born which I knew was not true). From my research I learned that she was actually born in 1819, meaning she would have been approximately 100 years old! Considering the absence of longevity in this lineage of my family I found this incredibly unlikely. Secondly, his parents were quite strict. There was no way that the man who dumped water on his children's heads for waking up after sunrise would tolerate his toddler son hiding under a woman's skirt. 

So was any of this story true? The answer is both yes and no. Yes my family really did immigrate to Canada from Ireland only a few years before the famine, and it is quite likely that they sustained themselves on potato peels (as was common practice for immigrants during that era). The woman that made that immigration though, did not survive until the 1920's, rather she died in 1895. Ironically, as his story claimed, she was widowed at the time of her death (a fact he implied by constantly describing her as wearing black). The part about his brother being the one that played in and around her skirt has been eliminated by math, however could the story still be true? I started looking though my family tree and noticed that his father was 2 when this woman died making it possible that the boy in his story was actually his father and not his brother. We will never know the full truth behind this tale, however overlaying the events on the family tree has helped to separate some of the facts from fiction. 

Over the years my Grandpa told me enough stories that I could no doubt write a novel with them, so I am going to leave it here for today. At a later date I may write a post about the Irish and New Brunswick folklore that he told me and how that ties in with the proven family history. 

With the second wave upon us, take some time to talk with your family (in person, on the phone, or digitally) and see what stories they have to share with you about your family history. Take everything with a grain of salt, then follow up with some research. You might just be surprised by what you can discover!

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