The Irish Have Long Memories...

My brother and his wife had visitors from Canada.  They had never been to Ireland before and when we joined them for a barbeque my brother told them that I was the one who’d explain about the Bricklieve Cairns which overlooked his house.

\Photo credit; Kiaran McHugh.com

The Cairns are known as Carrowkeel and through carbon dating it has been estimated that they are over five thousand years old and predate the Egyptian Pyramids.  Carrowkeel is one of the largest passage tomb cemeteries in Ireland.

We headed up the mountain by car and took the short walk to the cairns which have majestic views over Lough Arrow, Lough Key and the counties of Sligo and Roscommon.  Jim and his wife were suitably impressed by the location and ancient monuments and I did my best to interpret their significance.

Over dinner Jim asked how long were our family living in the area and we explained that we were ‘Blow Ins’.  Naturally, this expression was foreign to a Canadian and our children were aghast; ‘Blow Ins?’ this was their home.

As we stood in the bright sunlight I explained that our mothers’ people came from 5 miles over to the east and our fathers’ people came from 14 miles to the west of where we were.  Our mother was Roscommon, and father Sligo.  Jim just about collapsed with laughter and made the remark that we spoke of living 5000 years ago as if it were yesterday and limited our residency by milliseconds.

Our conversation expanded as our guests tried to come to grips with our status.  ‘Is a Blow
In illegitimate or somehow lesser than a local? who or what determined territory? Were we Irish at all?’
So I told the story of our grand uncle who was driving his car in Leitrim.  At the time there were very few cars in the countryside and the traffic hazards consisted of sheep, cows and the odd stray goat on the road.  Vehicular congestion comprised of two neighbours chatting as their donkeys grazed on the roadside whilst the men sat on their carts and enjoyed a smoke.  Uncle Martin nearly drove up their arses and just managed to avoid a collision as did another car coming behind him.

Naturally this drew the attention of neighbours in the adjoining field who were saving hay and a gaggle of men and women formed around the near accident.  Conscience clear, pipes smoked and it being near tea time the crowd dispersed.  One of the labourers was heading to the town and the second driver of the car offered a lift which was declined with courtesy.Martin was still chatting and as he drove slowly forward, the man heading to town signalled him for a lift.  On reaching the town Martin casually asked why the passenger hadn’t taken the first lift offered and he responded ‘era you couldn’t take a lift of that fella, his people stole the horses off The French’.

Now, if you don’t know your history and you’re not Irish this story is nonsensical.  In 1798 when French troops sailed to Ireland to support Irish rebels against the British forces they landed on Killable Bay in County Mayo, and travelled through Sligo and Leitrim to the scene of their final battle and defeat at Ballinamuck, in County Longford. Martin’s passenger in one sentence had obliterated any opportunity for the other car owner to forget his pedigree.