Letters

Letters 09-26-2016

Welcome To 1984 The Democrat Party, the government education complex, private corporations and foundations, the news media and the allpervasive sports and entertainment industry have incrementally repressed the foundational right of We the People to publicly debate open borders, forced immigration, sanctuary cities and the calamitous destruction of innate gender norms...

Grow Up, Kachadurian Apparently Tom Kachadurian has great words; too bad they make little sense. His Sept. 19 editorial highlights his prevalent beliefs that only Hillary and the Dems are engaged in namecalling and polarizing actions. Huh? What rock does he live under up on Old Mission...

Facts MatterThomas Kachadurian’s “In the Basket” opinion deliberately chooses to twist what Clinton said. He chooses to argue that her basket lumped all into the clearly despicable categories of the racist, sexist, homophobic , etc. segments of the alt right...

Turn Off Fox, Kachadurian I read Thomas Kachadurian’s opinion letter in last week’s issue. It seemed this opinion was the product of someone who offered nothing but what anyone could hear 24/7/365 on Fox News; a one-sided slime job that has been done better by Fox than this writer every day of the year...

Let’s Fix This Political Process Enough! We have been embroiled in the current election cycle for…well, over a year, or is it almost two? What is the benefit of this insanity? Exorbitant amounts of money are spent, candidates are under the microscope day and night, the media – now in action 24/7 – focuses on anything and everything anyone does, and then analyzes until the next event, and on it goes...

Can’t Cut Taxes 

We are in a different place today. The slogan, “Making America Great Again” begs the questions, “great for whom?” and “when was it great?” I have claimed my generation has lived in a bubble since WWII, which has offered a prosperity for a majority of the people. The bubble has burst over the last few decades. The jobs which provided a good living for people without a college degree are vanishing. Unions, which looked out for the welfare of employees, have been shrinking. Businesses have sought to produce goods where labor is not expensive...

Wrong About Clinton In response to Thomas Kachadurian’s column, I have to take issue with many of his points. First, his remarks about Ms. Clinton’s statement regarding Trump supporters was misleading. She was referring to a large segment of his supporters, not all. And the sad fact is that her statement was not a “smug notion.” Rather, it was the sad truth, as witnessed by the large turnout of new voters in the primaries and the ugly incidents at so many of his rallies...

Home · Articles · News · Random Thoughts · Dear Old Ireland
. . . .

Dear Old Ireland

Robert Downes - October 11th, 2007
Have you ever been to Moyvore? Not many people have. It‘s a tiny village in County Westmeath in the very center of Ireland. It‘s not on any tourist route -- there’s nothing much to do there. It’s an anonymous place of lumpy fields, populated mostly by sheep and cows.
Yet it is was from here in 1850 that my great, great (great?) grandfather, Michael Downes, emigrated to the United States. I am his 259th descendant.
If you have more than a dash of Irish blood in ye, chances are that someday you’ll travel to the Emerald Isle in search of your roots. The place is teeming with American visitors, packed into tour buses.
We Americans mob Ireland searching for clues to our past in the picturesque pubs, which are as lacquered and ornate as antique music boxes. We look hopefully to the heather, the occasional thatched-roof cottage, and the rocky walls of the old country, seeking signs of our roots. It’s an impulse we Irish-Americans have, similar to the need of every good Muslim to visit the holy city of Mecca at least once in a lifetime, or the quasi-expectation of every American parent to take their kids to Disneyworld.
Maybe we have that inbred, instinctual need to return because there is so much pain in Ireland’s past. When Michael Downes left Ireland in 1850 as a man still in his 20s, it was at the tail end of the five-year Potato Famine that killed one million people, with another million fleeing the country.
Ireland’s British overlords actually shipped large amounts of food out of the country during the famine so as not to ‘coddle’ a starving people they considered to be lazy, and perhaps even subhuman.
Many peasant farmers were also evicted from their homes at this time so that the land could be used to raise profitable cattle -- tossed out like unwanted animals with nowhere to go. Thus, writer Jonathan Swift wrote that the roads across Ireland were strewn with corpses, their mouths stained green from trying to live by eating grass.
It was an early form of ethnic cleansing from which Ireland has never really recovered. The scenes of countless crumbling stone houses which we find so charming today once housed scenes of utter desperation. How many of these green fields are riddled with bones?
Needless to say, I’m grateful that my distant kin chose to bail on Ireland for a new land. He arrived on American shores in a ‘coffin ship,’ risking, cholera, typhus and drowning, and worked on a river boat on the Grand River before finding a job on a farm outside Grand Rapids (an area which looks much like Westmeath, by the way). His brother, James, made it to Buenos Aires in Argentina, where today I have a relative named Juan Downes.
The Irish who emigrated to America were scorned and reviled on these shores, the same as Mexican migrants are today by many. They were considered lazy, shiftless, ignorant Micks. They were persecuted by an anti-Catholic, nativist political party called the ‘Know Nothings’. No different than the Mexicans today, they were given the dirty, dangerous, scut work -- they were cowboys, miners, canal diggers, farm workers, factory hands and soldiers, flooding America with a million immigrants. No doubt, some of the ancestors of those persecuted immigrants look down their noses at the Mexican migrant workers today.
Thirty years ago, African-American writer Alex Haley celebrated his own beginnings with the publication of Roots, accompanied by a television miniseries. Haley had spent 10 years researching his slave past, and even journeyed to a village in Gambia, where his ancestor Kunta Kinte had been abducted in the 1750s. Apparently, there was quite a celebration when he showed up.
I’m sorry to say that I didn’t share my own Alex Haley moment with a return to Moyvore. After a week of bike-camping along the hideously narrow roads of western Ireland in early September, I took the coward’s way out and elected to forgo dodging more cars and trucks on the extra 50-mile trip to my ancestors’ homestead.
I had hoped to ambush my distant relatives with a write-up of what happned to their lost kin Michael and James -- the internet tells me there are still family members in the town.
Instead, I contented myself with the scenery, passing by a few miles to the south on the train from Galway to Dublin. Moyvore -- maybe I‘ll see you next time around.

Robert Downes is on a four-and-a-half month trip around the world. Look for more foreign dispatches in upcoming columns.
 
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