 On The Line -- Issue 627 -- March 23, 2007  Online News and Views of Life in San Benito County with Herman Wrede Published by HollisterOnline.com -- Copyright 1995-2008 HollisterOnline.com
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On The Line -- Issue 627 -- March 23, 2007 Online News and Views of Life in San Benito County with Herman Wrede Published by HollisterOnline.com -- Copyright 1995-2008 HollisterOnline.com
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Something goofy gets into many Americans -- mostly men but quite a number of women, too - in the middle of March. Their eyes take on a strange cast and many of them emit peculiar sounds similar to words but not quite any words with which most of us are familiar.
Then on the 17th of the month, they put on something green before they venture out to meet neighbors and colleagues also wearing green, and essay a greeting like, "Top of the mornin' to you," and smile if the person so greeted responds with, "and the rest of the day to yourself." St. Patrick's Day, commemorating the patron saint of Ireland, is the unofficial beginning of spring to many although several days of winter remain on the calendar and is as near a holiday without being one that you can imagine. Americans named Kowalski, Schultz and Garcia seem to get as excited about it as the Dolans and Murphys do, and if you were to quiz them why the best answer they could come up would be: "Everyone's Irish on St. Patrick's Day." Many Irish-born men and women came to the American colonies long before the United States was formed and took their places in society, according to their skills and industry. But it was not until the late 1840s, following successive years of the failure of the potato crop, that hundreds of thousands of Irish left their native land for other places, including the United States. Desperately poor, they lived where they could in large cities like New York and Boston, and worked at whatever jobs they could find to put a bit of bread on the table for the family. But among the few possessions they carried with them across the Atlantic was their faith, and Catholicism flourished in some communities that had been overwhelmingly Protestant before their arrival. Many Americans whose families had sought religious freedom here generations earlier became alarmed at the onrush of the foreigners. Rather than meeting them as new neighbors, many turned their backs on them and made their life even more difficult. Newspaper cartoons of that era depict men whose faces bear strong resemblance to gorillas and women like harridans. Classified advertisements seeking help often ended with: "No Irish need apply." But the newcomers were not daunted. They had their faith and they had each other, and despite many artificial barriers erected against them, they had opportunity to progress more than their families had had in feudal Ireland. Not that they didn't love the Auld Sod; it was, after all, the place where they had been born and raised. But now, this grand new country offered them the chance to improve their own lot and those of their children, and their devotion to it grew by the day. Many Irishmen were day laborers when labor had a deeper meaning than it does now. There were no unions for the protection of the working man and more than a few bosses grew rich by the sweat of their employees' brow. But a man intent on the welfare of his wife and children hardly quibbled at unfair wages and conditions. Many Irishwomen became laundresses and house keepers for the good of the family. However, most still had their dreams for their children. With free schools and libraries in the new land, it would be possible for Dennis to get an education, and Francis, too, for that matter. And the dream grew as the newcomers saw their children grow into adulthood as policemen and secretaries. It validated all the sacrifice, toil and disappointment the parents had gone through. If a child eventually became a priest or a nun it was a true blessing, indeed. The Irish were among the most patriotic people in America and were anxious to take part in all its adventures. Thousands flocked to California during the great Gold Rush, and they joined up when the Civil War split the nation. Most were Union soldiers but they were also well represented in the Confederacy. When peace was restored, thousands signed on when the railroads crossed the plains and mountains. Wherever they went they took with them their industriousness, their faith and the ability to laugh at hardship. In fact, their sense of humor was a saving grace that allowed many of them who had reached the end of their rope to tie a knot in it and hang on. People who can laugh at themselves will usually have the last laugh. The first generation born in America themselves had children who attached themselves to their native land even closer than their parents had. Doors opened that had been closed to their grandparents and the sons and daughters of policemen and maids became teachers and attorneys and doctors and office holders. But American though they were they took pride in their Irish roots and celebrated them. Old prejudices were dying and descendants of some groups that had disdained the Irish immigrants celebrated that heritage with the Kellys, Nolans and Muldoons. In what is now San Benito County the Breens became the first Anglo family to reside in San Juan Bautista after surviving the horrors of the Donner Pass. But not long after them came the Grogans, the McMahons and the Cagneys, the O'Donnells and O'Connells, the McCulloughs and the O'Neills. Many of Irish descent intermarried and their children, whether Irish-German, Irish-Hispanic or Irish-anything else, learned to take pride in their ink to the Auld Sod, no matter if had even more than a century earlier. So in a county like San Benito where the majority of the population is of Hispanic descent, St. Patrick's Day may still not be as widely celebrated as Cinco de Mayo or Mexican Independence Day. But with the determination of the Cassidys and Feeneys, and the help of some of those grand old Irish lads named Gomez and Maldonado, it won't be that far behind. |
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