The Lord's way of paving the way to Ireland!

14 days, 7 hours and 10 minutes to take off!

...but who's counting...

I don't know how it happened but all the decks have been cleared.

Everything that needed to be resolved in some way that I can live with, has somehow taken care of itself.

(...well almost everything... ...yeah, there are some things that I won't discuss here I intend to sort out at a later date, but nothing pressing or pressuring...)

The only things I have to do between now and then is pack, organize and count the days!

Thank-you Lord!

P.S.:

I did what the Doctor ordered. I bought $40.00 "Orthopedic Support Hose".

Alright, alright, I know they remind me of my Grandmother, and I kinda feel alittle girlie when I put them on, but there is a history of blood clots in the family and the last thing I want is to spend time in a hospital when I finally get to Ireland after waiting all my life to go! Word is that for every hour in the air, I have to ware them a comparable hour on the ground when I land. That of course means that I will be waring "hose" for close to 24 hours. Under my jeans of course so no-one will notice. ;)

...the secrets out now!

obeedúid~
25/Sept/08

P.S., P.S.: ...Please don't forget to vote in the "What should we name Our Micro-Beer Poll! Just click a radio button at random if you can't make up your mind. (Think of it as voting for a 3rd Party Candidate that you wish was eligible but not on the ballot...) Come on, you don't want it to be named "Jolly Janitor" by default do you? Only 27 days left to vote!

"Don't worry, I've got plans..."

This summer my son Devin decided to try his hand at keeping Bee's. From one hive he yielded 20 - 20oz. jars of Honey. About 30 lbs of golden raw Honey!

"What were we going to do with all this Honey?" I said...

"Don't worry, I've got plans..." was what he said back to me.

Last week he came home with a beer making kit. The next thing I know my kitchen is being taken over... We are now in the process of making "Honey-Ale" and "Honey-Mead".

"O.K." I said, "If you're going to use my kitchen as a Micro Brewery, I am going to get something in return...."

"Huh?" He said.
"In return for the use of my kitchen, well, obviously I get some of the yield right?"

"Yeah, sure thats a given." he said.
"Well I also want to Name the Beer and design the Label too!"

"Ahh, sure alright..."

~~

So here are some of the names that have been suggested so far:

1- Jolly Janitor Honey Ale.
2- Unemployed Super Hero Ale.
3- Tired Irish Poet Honey-Ale.
4- Ol' Watershed Brew.
5- Perious Frink's Honey Drink.
6- Ugly Puppy Honey-Ale.
7- Devolutionary Honey-Beer.
8- Rabid Octopus Honey-Ale.
9- Retired Grocery Clerk Honey-Ale.
10- Girlie-Girl Honey-Beer.
11- Deaf bookkeepers Honey-Brew.
12- Belching Beauty Queen Honey-Ale.
13- Miniature Irish Poet Honey-Ale.
14- Martha Washington's Executive Assistant Honey-Ale.
15- Bankrupt Plumber Honey-Ale.

and last but not least:

16- O'Beez Raw Honey-Ale.

~~

So I decided that I can't decided!

And... I want your input!

To that end I have taken advantage of the Polling Gadget in the Sidebar.

The Poll will be open until I return from Ireland on the 22nd of October. At which time the beer should be ready for sampling to celebrate our triumphant return home!

Vote often and Vote more than once!
It's the American way!

...er... well it used to be....

(My money is on the Tired Irish Poet...)

obeedúid~
15/Sept/08

...further proof that I am on the right track...

My friend Bob stopped into the store the other day. He brought me something he found in an old box of books: A reader from the Bronx School District during the 30s and 40s entitled "Shaun O'Day of Ireland".

If you look closely at the bottom of the cover

you will see the name "Bronx" scribbled on it.

I was completely enamored by it and went directly to my bedroom to read it from cover to cover as soon as I got it home. It is 192 pages long, it didn't take long, but here's what happened:

~~

The book was written Madeline Brandeis, it was part of a series about children of the world; a mixture of History, Geography and in this case Irish-social-faerie-tale-myth and... Superstition (...the reason why the Irish dressed their young boys in petticoats: so the leprechauns wouldn't steel them away and force them into servitude as apprentice cobblers...) etc.

"Chure-an-its-grand-fun!"

The Title Page.

It was published by Grosset & Dunlap by arrangement with A Flanagan Company and the copy I have here was reprinted at the beginning of WWII??? I'm a little confused here because the copy write page says this:

And yet it states that it was produced under War Time Conditions on the title page:

It was published in New York and I am assuming that this is a second printing, but we didn't enter WWII until Dec., 7th, 1941 right?

Maybe it was republished during WWII or it's just my "American naiveté" ...was there another War going on that I missed?

~~

Madeline Brandeis was also a Producer of Motion Pictures based on this series of books for Pathé Exchange, Inc. Her photographs which illustrate the book are peopled by Child Actors who were famous in movies such as: "The Iron Mask" with Douglas Fairbanks and "The Bridge at San Louis Rey". The only adult Actress is played by "...such a busy Star..." Miss Alice White??? Apparently she was Warner Brothers answer to Clara Bow...

~~

THIS IS GREAT STUFF! Here is a copy of her preface:

I love that she names her Camera "Ref".

~~

In her introduction in which she gives credit to all her actor's; she even gives credit to the buildings:

She must have been there in the Fall as I will soon be ;)

Even MORE Rain references....

(..rain fairies...who would believe in them...)

~~

One of the things that really struck me were these paragraphs:

Awww Mush! Alright, I admit it, I'm a fool for this because my Girlfriend's name is Dawn....

~~

BUT HERE IS THE BEST PART! The story is your typical fairytale replete with "Evil Step Mother and dieing Father" ...all very romantic and to be expected.

However, check out how the story begins:

Just the way I wrote the beginning of "O'Wasterly Gale" as posted here last February in a blog "O' Slightly more Aisterly Speculation".

The two main characters playing footsie in the sand!!!

~~

I wonder if me Da read this book when he was in school on Long Island. Maybe I had it in my genetic memory or something...

Whatever it is, I find it to be further proof that I am on the right track.

obeedúid~

20/Aug/08

...Along the Powtomack....

"I guess I never heard of the C&O Canal along the Potomac (or "Potowmack") River or realized its strategic significance during the Civil War until I began to transcribe the portion of James Gilmour's letters that take place during the time he was stationed along the River/Canal from August of 1861 until March of 1862.

On August 11th 1861 James Gilmour wrote to his brother Robert Gilmour in Manhattan:

"Rockville Md Aug 11 th

Dear Brother I received your welcome letter

in due time which gave me welcome great pleasure

to hear that you were all in good health

we have moved our camp again we left camp

Powell on friday 9 th on our march for the

Point of Rocks we have marched on friday even

& halted after getting socking wet & lay on the

ground all night ~ we marched at 5. saterday morning

& halted for Dinner after marching over a

white flint rock from 5 to 1 o'clock we started

again at 3 & halted for the night at 7 in a wood

near the village of Rockville from which I now

write we have slept on our arms all night

under the shade of a tree with nothing but

our overcoats it rained a little but this

sunday morning is very fine ..."

Camp Powell was one of the many Union camps that ringed the Capital City. Point of Rocks is just beyond the Monocacy River and not as far along the Canal as Harpers Ferry. Rockville is very near Mechanicsville and only about one quarter of the distance between Washington and Harpers Ferry. "

~~

This is an aerial view of the Civil War encampments,
around Washington during the Civil War.
The location of Camp Powell is not distinguishable.

~~

The previous quoted text was an excerpt from a long time project that I have been working on and have as yet not published. A preview if you will, just to let everyone know I haven't been resting on my laurels....

~~

Map of the Potomac Aqueduct.

Lets face it, I'm a Map~aholic. I LOVE Maps! I have been trying to find a map of the Potomac/C&O Canal that shows all the places my ancestor James Gilmour was either stationed at, mentions having visited, or was known to have been involved in a battle/skirmish near. Some maps show some locations, but leave out others. This has to do with the strategic significance to what ever is being discussed I suppose. Never the less its frustrating!

~~

I can't make up my mind... Draw my own detailed map, or construct one on Google Maps. I think I'll do both, but it will take time with all the things I've managed to get myself involved in lately. I thought once I retired from Youth Ministry I would have more time. I should have known I wouldn't be able to say NO and would be just as busy with other things eventually.

So, I bought some very fine point pens... Some quality mapping paper... It may be a while but eventually I will post a map here following James Gilmour and the NYSM 2nd Regiment along the "Powtomack Canal" during the years 1861-62.

~~

I've found some interesting stuff along the way, but nothing all encompassing or comprehensive enough to put all of their movements and engagements into perspective. These two images came from the Library of Congress and I found them with the help of my local librarian friend: Julie Stump.

THANKS JULIE!!!

~~

Guess it's up to me. I've got the pens, I've got the paper, now all I need is to get the time...

The Google thing will have to come later. That one I can start in Killaloo and follow to every location of each family member from Londonderry to where ever... A genealogical tour map so to speak.

obeedúid~

10/aug/08

"SUNDAY FOUR" with featured reader Arther Willis.

Today I attended "SUNDAY FOUR" (the fourth Sunday of every month) OPEN MIC at The Old Songs building (37 South Main Street) with featured reader Arther Willis today.

As always Art impressed me and inspired me. When I returned home, I was in a meditative state induced by his poems, to find a present for me on the steps of the Laundromat I manage.

As I cleaned up the mess, I remained in the creative trance as I worked. I couldn't help but respond with what I will humbly and respectfully term: Willisian observation.

After Art read and while the Poets drank at the Pub:

I scrubbed the Sun off of the steps today because

it was being tracked into the store on the carpet.

Who ever heard of a pink Sun anyway…

A gallon of water and some pine-sol did the trick

on him and his companion as well.

A shop broom lifted them up from the cement

and made them bleed down the stairs

violet pink blood.

The carpet is old and worn,

the children were busy

and it was only chalk.

"We have some Modern Art on the steps today…"

said the landlord sarcastically.

I wouldn't have minded except I'm the janitor

and bound to clean the tired old carpet

by arrangement.

"What you do?" said the local color.

"Sweeping up the Sun…" said I.

obeedúid~

27/july/08

An Ulster Myth written in The Hamely Tongue by my alter-ego obeedúid~

...A taste of what I will be reading at the Rabbie Burns Statuary on Saturday. Have No fear, if you persevere down the page you will find a translated all be it not so poetically correct English translation provided.

I found this artwork of Cuchullain on Wiki and cropped it for my own purposes. The artist was noted as unknown. My actual insperation came from "The Story of the Irish Race" by Seumas MacManus. There is a nice synopses of the event and the history of Irish Poets on this Patrick O'Brien Message Board.

Cúchulainn in battle, from T. W. Rolleston,

Myths and Legends of the Celtic Race, 1911

(illustrator unknown)

Thon Greedy Pohets jist-deserts:

Quhan Conor reygne yn auld lang syne

an Pohetes roum tha laan

quhiles cum tae caal a mon o rhyme

yit wus thair wye tae commaun

an honour pryce for prais bestowe

apon tha Kang at haun.

Cuchullain, Kang Conor's Fostir-sinn

an heidyin o renoun

posseyd tha Spere o Vyctory

quhan he assumand tha Croun.

Thon Spere wus myghic-gifit

an lethall quhan twer thrawn.

Sae by an by Cuchullain quhan he wus restin

at heez ingle as yit bleezed

thon Pohet Redg apperyd afore hime

chantin Poyemes o prais

an frae hiz mouthe cwm platitudes

wi ivery tern o phrais.

Quhan he wur don Redg di' demaun

foir hiz pryce o honour

thon thang Cuchullain moost di' priz

an Ullister caad o woner

Tha Spere o Vyctory

frae tha heir o Kang Conor.

Twer Cuchullain's unfrien’s

quha plann tha Pohet's deceptioun

thon Spere's repute

wus sur tha Pohete's intentioun

foir the wus jelous,

o tha Ullister Cheften.

Noo quhan tha Campioun Kang

di' affer Redg astead

Gowd an Siller, Shep an Angus

iver thing he bred

thon conspirin Pohet

wodnau iven affer a tred!

Desparit o hiz honour

Cuchullain cud no abyde

pairtin wi hiz Vyctory

nor pairtin wi hiz pryde

he thrist hiz Spere

an at Redg he oot-cryd:

"Tak yer heresme!

Yae da-dilly conspiren mon!

Ga'aff an ga bak,

quhaur twer iver ye bagon!

Ye'll niver gie tha best o mae

nor ony o yer clan!"

Anso, tha Pohet laucht unto

Vyctory wi hiz heid

a wee bit supprissit,

bot havin daen sae sed:

"Tis indee' o pow'ful giff

alas bot noo, A'm deid…"




obeedúid~

08/july/08

~~~

The Greedy Poets just-desserts:

When Conor reined in old long times

and Poets roamed the land

when sometimes came to call a man of rhyme

it was their way to command

an honor price for praise bestowed

upon the King at hand.

Cuchullain, King Conor's Foster-son

an High-One of renown

possessed the Spear of Victory

when he assumed the Crown.

That Spear was magic-gifted

an lethal when it were thrown.

So by an by Cuchullain when he was resting

at his fireside as it blazed

that Poet Redg appeared before him

chanting Poems of praise

and from his mouth came platitudes

with every turn of phrase.

When he was done Redg did demand

for his price of honor

that thing Cuchullain most did prize

and Ulster called a wonder

The Spear of Victory

from the heir of King Conor.

It were Cuchullain's enemy's

who planned the Poet's deception

that Spear's repute

was sure the Poet's intention

for they were jealous,

of the Ulster Chieftain.

Now when the Champion King

did offer Redg instead

Gold an Silver, Sheep an Cattle

every thing he bred

that conspiring Poet

would not even offer a trade!

Despaired of his honor

Cuchullain could not abide

parting with his Victory

or parting with his pride

he thrust his Spear

and at Redg he out- cried:

"Take your winnings!

You foolish conspiring man!

Go off and go back,

where ever it were you began!

You'll never get the best of me

not any of your clan!"

And so, the Poet caught

Victory with his head

a little bit surprised,

but having done so said:

"It is indeed a powerful gift

alas but now, I'm dead…"

obeedúid~

08/july/08

...What I did on my summer vacation....

~~~

The thing we forget about genealogy is: DIEING SUCKs!

~~~

We had to put Sarah's cat down today. (Who am I kidding, she slept on my shoulder every night...)

"Mooshee" watched me today, as she always did, making a box out on the back deck. I have been building flower boxes for years from old asparagus box staves. The descendant of Box makers and Coopers; who now believes in genetic memory.

Today I built a Coffin. (Yeah bIRD, theres the "Coffin" connection too.)

It was kinda creepy I'll admit, but she was content to be with me as always while I built it. I couldn't just dump her in a shoe box; even though my Conklins and Glenns were Shoemakers.

~~~

From now on when some one asks me for a definition for "Surreal" I will have to answer: "Calling around for price quotes to kill your cat." Unpleasant, but advisable in todays take advantage of peoples emotions to get at their wallet world. (Prices ranged from $60.00 no frills, to $259.00 private cremation and etc....)

Sarah and I brought her to a Veterinary Hospital nearby. We were able to be there to hold her paw and cry together when she passed. Then I placed her in the casket, wrapped in her bed towel and nailed the lid on. Medium price: $139.00.

~~~

We went to Mom's house and dug a grave out back under some sodded shamrocks.

After we said some prayers, we went into the house just as the sky opened up and the rain poured down in buckets of tears....

~~~

On entering the house Mom handed me a copy of the Deed for the Conklin plot that my 3rd cousin Regina sent me from Middle Village NY. Its actually a transcript dated Oct. 13th 1894, and lists married names and indicates that only my mothers mom's father had issues.

(Click for larger view)

My Conklin ancestors were printers, generation upon generation. Hmmmm, imagine that, just like I was for 14 years and just as my brother Rich is today.

~~~

The thing about death is remembering. Remembering those who lived who made us who we are. Our siblings, our forefathers and foremothers, and even our pets.

"Mooshee" 09/july/08

You loved us well.


Rest comfortably in the Lap of the Lord.


...goodbye 'ol friend...

You will be remembered!

obeedúid~
09/july/08

Wondering whats going on? So was I ....

obeedúid's~genealogical~graffiti~flag~

I decided to do a test to see if I could improve my view count on my blog this weekend. So I did a short thing that was filled with keywords that I thought might bring up hits and here's what I learned.

I could spend money trying to increase my traffic or I could just keep doing what I'm good at.

Part of this is attributable to the way Google ranks things, but the most important reason is because I was doing just fine on my own thank-you very much! All the consulting I have received so far, and what they want to sell me at a price, has shown me that what I have been doing is doing it right naturally.

It seems that over the past year or so I have carved out my own little section of the web just doing what comes naturally. I know what my best keywords are now and guess what? I'm happy where I am. I may not be that most noteworthy blog on the net, but like I said; its my little corner of the "series of tubes" and it works pretty good!

U'm savvy sucka!
We down wit dat!
If it ain't broke don't fix it!

Its my flag and I'll wave it the way I want too!!!

~

I'm going to sleep now 'cause I have to work through the rest of this holiday before my vacation next week anyway....

Lots of graveyards to mosey through. Lots of trails to investigate. maybe a trip to NYC to visit a 3rd cousin even.

~

Oh yeah! I'm reading. I don't get out much lately but Dan Wilcox asked me to "Read-some-Rabbie" at the Burns Statue in Albany's Washington Park on July 12th. I haven't found a listing on his blog or the Albany Poets Calendar for the Summer Statue Series yet so maybe I'm not getting out yet after all....

Where's the Scot-Irish Waldo
At the Burns Stature July 12th
(...I think...)

I'll have to "E" Dan and find out for sure. I'm planning on reading "My Father Was a Farmer" and something else I wrote inspired by Rabbie Burns. If I can I'll V-blog it. It should be interesting and I must confess I don't know what to expect as I have not yet attended this venue.

I had no idea!

Did you know that you were living in "the Noughties"???

Meaning the decade of 2000-2009 that is.

JEEZ! leave it to me to find out one year before my time period is up!

I only just caught it while surfing a blog from Australia on VERVEEARTH.

Apparently its even copy written!

I feel so out of touch!!! ? Where have I been for the last 8 years?

I thought I was living in the 21st Century and I was just a "21st Century Schizoid Man" ....

I wonder what Hancock would say in this situation....

perhaps: "I donn evein reemember dat..."

obeedúid~
03/july/aught-eight.

...Mixed Up in a Moonshine Case... ("Brooklyn CSI- "TMI!")

From Harper's story books :
a series of narratives dialogues, biographies and tales,
for the instruction and entertainment of the young.
(New York : Harper & Brothers, c1854-1856.)
Abbott, Jacob (1803-1879), Author.
(Image obtained from the NYPL Digital Library Online.)

~

""The liquor-dealer is your guide, philosopher, and creditor," commented The Nation in 1845. "He sees them more frequently and familiarly than anybody else, and is more trusted by them than anybody else, and is the person through whom the news and meaning of what passes in the upper regions of city politics reaches them." Saloonkeepers could thus earn the gratitude and confidence of large numbers of tenement dwellers, gratitude that could be repaid as votes on election day. The liquor dealer also had the name recognition and financial resources to bid successfully for political office."

Tyler Anbinder, "Five Points" Chapter 5 pages 145-6

~

When my Dad Retired from AT&T he wanted to start a family business with his sons. "O'Brien and Sons" if you will. He talked about trying any number of things: opening a Book Store, opening a Cigar Store, or buying the Liquor Store up the street.

Unfortunately, soon after his Retirement at age 55 he was diagnosed with Prostate Cancer. He fought the good fight before he succumbed finally at the age of 62 .

When he spoke of buying a Liquor Store it was with the idea that it would be a business that should be "Recession Proof" ...when the economy goes bad, people buy Liquor... being the age old business maxim.

But I remember to this day, when he finally decided against the idea, how he quoted someone, I believe it was his Father or someone from his family I'm not really sure: "Never own a Saloon for No Good thing ever came from money made from Liquor."

~

The following goes a long way to explaining my family's longstanding belief in this superseding maxim. It is a transcription from the original because I couldn't paste it here as its size (about 5"x 23" or the full length of the front page.) was too big. I didn't like the way it looked cut up so I spent the last few days transcribing instead.

WARNING! There was no such thing as "HIPAA-Laws" in the 1895. The information imparted here would be the subject of Libel in todays world. Or perhaps an episode of "Brooklyn CSI"

.... In any case, this gets a bit gruesome so don't say I didn't warn you....

~

THE BROOKLYN DAILY EAGLE
Wednesday, June 5, 1895

______

FEARED TO FACE THE MUSIC,
______

-O'Brien Placed a Pistol in His Mouth and Fired,
______

RATHER THAN GO TO COURT.
______

He Was Mixed Up in a Moonshine Case
Which Was to Have Come Up in the
Federal Court To-day- Brooding
Over the Affair Had Him Despondent,
So He Ended the Suspense
by Putting a Bullet Into His Brain.

______

John O'Brien, a saloon keeper at the corner of Clifton Place and Classon avenue, shot and killed himself this morning in the bedroom of his living apartments over the store. O'Brien was 51 years old and was a hatter by trade, as were several of his brothers, who also owned saloons. One of his brothers, James O'Brien, the proprietor of a saloon at the corner of Spencer street and Myrtle avenue, died suddenly about six weeks ago, and John O'Brien was very much affected. John worked every day at his trade of hatter in Knox's factory at Grand avenue and St. Marks place, the business of the store being conducted by two of his sons during the day, while he himself would tend bar at night.

His place has borne a reputation among the police as a quiet, orderly saloon, although he had been arrested on one or two occasions for violation of the excise law. He had conducted the saloon on Classon avenue more than twenty years. In February last two barrels of Illicit whisky were found in his cellar by the United States marshals. They were seized and O'Brien was placed under arrest, and before the United States commissioner was released on bail. He bought the liquor from the Brady Brothers, whose Illicit still just outside of Long Island City was raided in the latter part of last winter. There were three brothers of the name of Brady. Hugh, Tom, and Brian were engaged in the manufacture of Moonshine whisky. One of them is now under arrest and the United States officers are looking for the other two.

Ever since the seizure of the whisky in his saloon, and his arrest by the United States marshals, O'Brien has worried greatly over the matter. His friends have noticed his despondency and have tried to cheer him up, but he seemed to grow more and more disheartened. Last night as he stood behind the bar he was seized with a sort of fainting fit. He quickly recovered and said to his friends that he feared the result of his trial in the United States courts, which was set down for to-day. "I suppose I will have to pay a fine," he said, and added, "I would not mind that, but I am afraid I may be sentenced to imprisonment and that I could never stand. To have to go to the penitentiary would break my heart."

O'Brien was alone in the room when he shot himself. His wife noticed that he was uneasy during the night. This morning he awoke early and told his wife he would rest a little longer before getting up. She said she would go downstairs and prepare breakfast. The family occupy the entire house. The living rooms are on the second floor, while the bedrooms are on the third floor. He told her that he would be down to breakfast as he wished to get away early, in order to attend to some business at the excise board before appearing for trial in United States courts. He appeared to be feeling more nervous than on the night before.

One of his youngest sons, Daniel, slept in a bed in the same room with his father and mother. It was about 7:40 o'clock when the boy heard a muffled sound, which he said sounded as though his father had shouted "Get up" to him. The boy sat up in bed and looked toward the bed where his father lay. O'Brien had pulled the clothes up over his face, but the boy noticed smoke coming from beneath them and, becoming alarmed, screamed for his mother. Mrs. O'Brien was on the floor below and also heard the report of the pistol, but thought it was caused by the shutting of a box lid in the Liquor Store. When she heard the screams of the boy she ran upstairs and, pulling away the clothing from her husbands face, saw at once what had happened. She ran to the hallway and called to her son George, who was downstairs in the saloon.

George ran up stairs and found his father lying in bed, with blood flowing from his wound and the pistol with which he had shot himself clutched in his right hand. He called another brother and sent him to the house of Dr. E. S. Chick, at 303 Greene avenue, while he himself ran to the Forth precinct station house and told what had happened, and asked that a call for an ambulance be sent out. A hurry call was sent to the Homeopathic hospital, and within ten minutes the ambulance, in charge of Dr. Lazarus, was at the door of O'Brien's saloon. In the meantime Dr. Chick had arrived, but O'Brien was dead when he got there.

Dr. Lazarus and Dr. Chick made an examination and found that O'Brien had placed the muzzle of the revolver in his mouth and discharged it, the ball passing through the roof of his mouth and lodging at the base of his brain. Death must have been instantaneous. The weapon which O'Brien used to take his life was a Smith & Wesson .32 caliber, five chamber, hammerless revolver. It was a revolver which O'Brien kept in his saloon during the day but took to bed each night, placing it under his pillow. This has been his custom ever since the Luca murder, as he said he did not propose to be unprepared if any burglar came prying about his rooms at night.

O'Brien's home life was very pleasant, and neither his wife nor any of his son's had the least suspicion of any such act on his part. He was generally cheerful, except for the despondency he manifested at times since his arrest by the United States marshal. He leaves five son's, John, George, William, Danial and Joseph. The three first named are grown, while Danial and Joseph are under 16 years of age. No arrangements have been made for the funeral.

______

Yeah, it's gruesome just like I said, but the amount of information is overwhelming and invaluable too! I know that these are my ancestors. I know this because of the occupations. (Hatters and "Liquor Clerks" etc.) This story also fits nicely with family lore as well.

The general location of the residences is correct, but the James' and John's are confusing. I tend to think that my branch is the James who died six weeks earlier, but as you can see this John's wife was named Elizabeth which is right in line with the family naming pattern:

I am however stymied by the lack of census data for 1890. George, William, Danial and Joseph do not seem to fit and this is why I tend to lean towards James at Spencer and Myrtle.

~

The leap back to Pittsfield & Lenox must be made from here. The lack of Census data is complicated by the fact that I am not sure when the move happened. This is why I turned to Newspapers in desperation. Now I have much more to go on and I guess I will have to see if persistence can bring about more info about this John's brother James' death sometime in April of 1895 and compare a list of children from the sketchy info that I have from my great aunt Elizabeth (O'Brien) Kiernan.

~

Thats all for this episode of "Brooklyn CSI-TooMuchInformation!" Tune in next week for a possible episode of stereo types in Irish-gangsta dialects. (Oh yeah, I found more articles featuring Longshoreman James O'Brien thugs who are quoted as speaking Cagney-esque "Youz-Guys" kinda stuff.)

obeedúid~
02/july/08

"I needed a Medicinal Nature Encounter..."

Casline if you are reading this I hope you took a shower as soon as you got home! I picked two tics off me before I made it to the shower, stripped down, bagged the clothes and scrubbed down.

~

I was feeling kinda down because of recent family "Stuff" so I E-mailed Alan Casline and asked him if he was interested in doing a short hike up in the Helderburg Mountains just south of here where I live.

I needed a Medicinal Nature Encounter.

So we went looking for a place we had passed by recently on the way to Christman's Preserve called Limestone Rise Preserve.

~

We ended up finding "Wolf Creek Falls Preserve" in Knox.

View Larger Map

~

A full scan of "Fox Creek Preserve"
in case you wish to enlarge it in your Browser.

The Trail Map was kind of upside down to the way you enter The Preserve; but my Boy Scout orienteering kicked in and we quickly determined that although the Red Trail was not yet opened, we could still navigate around the closed areas by doing a stretch of road along 816 Bozenkill.

~

Enlarged and Cropped Map of Fox Creek Preserve.
With our route and a legend for the photos.

Alan laid down on the first foot-bridge over the Fox Creek so he could take his first photo of "Fox Creek" for his Watershed Archives. He was doing a reclining pose when I looked up, but by the time I got the camera going I caught him standing back up. (even though it looks like he's falling down.)

The Mountain Goat bIRD gets up!
(#1 on the enlarged Map.)

~

We proceeded in a roundabout manner to the Bird Box. Nothing special, just a Bird box. I was more impressed with the looks of this tree at the opening in the stone wall.

Kinda Spooky Looking!
Reminds me of a Screaming Eagle....
(#2 on the enlarged Map.)

Alan played with the wall and made a Rock Person. I abstained as I realized that the rock formations were the result of years of gradual deterioration that I didn't want to disturb. It was interesting from the standpoint that the wall was originally built with shale and topped with a row of field stone. Almost "Natural Ornate" in its day.

~

Next we made our way to Bench 1. I must say here that I am not impressed with the placement of the benches in this Preserve. They are Urban in style and design, so they the look very much out of place. Also they do not present any real view, or point of interest. Its quiet, in the woods, but in a man made clearing, with little or no purpose than a resting spot for hikers unaccustomed to hiking, who need frequent rest stops. Not worth a picture.

~

We headed towards the Wetland to see if it provided any views. Allot of trees under a nice canopy but nothing to film. Pleasant dense new growth forestland.

~

Then we found what was perhaps the most interesting thing on the trail. A mysterious foundation that we determined to have been the ruins of a "Saw-Mill" (?) that was some how connected to the D&H Railroad line that runs along the lower part of Preserve. It appears that at some point the Creek must have been diverted to power the mill to assist in harvesting wood.

I was so interested in fact I neglected to take a picture! It is indicated as location #4 on the map.

~
We checked out the D&H line and the made our way back along the Red trail to the Creek.

It was wonderful! Just what I needed to take my mind off of recent events.

~

After a pause to drink and admire the Creek I wondered up to Bench 2 and was of course unimpressed once again. At least this one faced a nice Ol' Tree that was pleasing to look at for a brief bit.

~

At this point we decided to "Bush-Whack" up the Creek bed. It was not for the unexperienced but it was magnificent!

"Fox Creek Falls"
(#3 on the enlarged Map.)

It was worth the climb and the Hitch-hiking Ticks. Hopefully it will be added to the Trail System and it would make a good location for a Lean to similar to "Christman's Sanctuary".

The ride hope was quick and we ended up in Altamont about 5:30 p.m.

After a "Scrub-Down" and something to eat, all was right with the world again. I'm so glad I work for the Company I work for now. I needed some "My Time" to put me right so I can continue to be there for "My Family". They are ever on my mind and in my heart; but sometimes I need to climb a Creek Wall and forget about them for awhile so I can be me....

obeedúid~
21/june/08/p.m.

...I always do what Coach says....

I was at work the other day. Coach O'Connor came in with his wife for grocery's. He was my English Teacher in High School 35 years ago. He asked me about our trip to Killaloo this fall and how the plans were going. I mentioned that I had been corresponding with Alan McKinny about my reasoning for going during the Rainy Season and how I began doing the numbers on my ancestors arrivals and departures from NI.

About half of my ancestors left from Moville, Co., Donegal.

A period Post Card showing Moville, Donegal Bay.

The other half left from Liverpool England.

Map showing Principle Steamship Routes.

We had planned to visit Moville on or about the 14th of October. Thats just the way things worked out.

Robert Gilmour arrived at Castle Garden on 11 November, 1857. November 11th eventually became my Father's Birthday in 1925. (68 yrs later). Then it became Armistice Day in 1919 and eventually Veterans Day in 1954. My Dad always got his Birthday off so I could never forget this day. Dad died 62 years later. I alway thought it would have been weird if he had lived th 68.

October 1857
S  M Tu  W Th  F  S

         1  2  3
 4  5  6  7  8  9 10
11 12 13 14 15 16 17
18 19 20 21 22 23 24
25 26 27 28 29 30 31

November 1857
S  M Tu  W Th  F  S
 1  2  3  4  5  6  7
 8  9 10 11 12 13 14
15 16 17 18 19 20 21
22 23 24 25 26 27 28

29 30

Counting back 28 days (the average length of a Steamship Voyage from Ireland) from that date gives me.... October 14th! I swear to you we had no conscious idea that we were doing this at the time.

Standing in the rain on the pier is just what I need to do to write what I can't seem to do from here. All the research I have done just can't substitute for the actual experience. The Wetter and the Greener the better.

But when I was E-mailing Alan McKinny, and I did the numbers, well, I realized we would be there 151 years TO THE DAY!

Kismet? Well....
"You have to write this down." said Coach O'Connor. I always do what Coach says now-a-days. I didn't back then. But I do now.

obeedúid~
21/june/08

The real reason there is now a Moon Phase in my sidebar...

It was a 97% Full Moon last night.

A Full Moon on Father's Day, imagine that...

"Devo" showed up after work to hang-out. When he decided to leave around 11:30 p.m. we loaded up his truck with some junk from Sarah's room, that I had gotten permission to put in a dumpster at work.

In the process of tossing a bed frame into the dumpster, I got hung up on the webbing and my wedding ring finger got CRUSHED between the frame and the dumpster. UGH!

Both ERs were busy so we went to Albany Med. where they supposedly do trauma best in the area.

I got to spend quality time with my EMT Son for the next 4 hours in the ER at Albany Med.

I painted the outside of his truck on the ride there. (He needs new tires and shocks I think.)

A very pretty Dr. Katherine Sullivan gave my local anesthesia, washed my wounds and stitched 3 stitches into my finger, which I have to have removed in 8 days. She looked allot like my friend Dennis' daughter but she professed no relation.


We got home around 4ish and I missed a day of work today.

I have been trying to blog about the Donegal-Diver connection on my Dad's side all day but its not going so well.

Blogging one-hand-hunt-an-peck is NO FUN....

obeedúid~
16/june/08
Bloomsday!