I passed through the Holy Lands ( the University District) today at about 3:30 pm. Most of them were drunk already. They have a major riot with the police every year in St Patrick's Day. It has become a long standing tradition that they beat each other up on the Feast of Patrick.. Mad. I saw the blue lights flashing and the sirens honking as the police rushed into battle with their student foes as I walked onwards. The dog looked disgusted. The police are nearly all Protestant and the students, Catholic. Reason enough to do battle.
For a fighting St Patrick's Day story I will tell one of years and years ago when I was young. The British Army Regiments used to come into our Irish City, Belfast,in six to three months rotation. Some of the Regiments were better than others and so a bad regiment meant a good chance to do the poor soldiers harm. I was a good shot in those bad old days and a Senior officer in the other side so they tended to dread what I might do them. If I happened to be in mood to do so. A pretty bad British Regiment as it happened came into my part of the city and I was looking forward to causing them considerable regret for doing so. Anyhow I was sitting having a quiet drink in my local bar when the British soldiers when their officer, a Major, walked in fully armed. He took out his sidearm and pointed it at my head. Right up close and touching to my right ear. He said ,so all the bar could hear how fond he was of his soldiers. If any of them got shot, he would not know if it had been me who plugged them, but considering my past record it would be safe for him to assume I had done so. In either case if anything happened to his soldiers he would be sure to personally kill me. I went away to London for a holiday for a few months. The Regiment might have been useless, their Major , however was not. Before they left they asked me to line up for a group picture with them all. I obliged. In a funny way I liked the English. Although on the whole, looking back on it, not to be proud, but I was a much, much better shot. ( Which is why I am still alive)
I remember one time I was walking down the street unarmed and they, the British Army, winged of a long range pot shot at me from an Observation Post . A good sniper. Not quite good enough. Very long distance. It hit a brick right beside my right ear and bits of the brick hit my face. I was very young back then, I forget how many times they nearly killed me, but it was many, many many. It reminds me of the old Irish saying. 'If it's meant for you it will not go by you'. This song was brought out in my younger days when I was shooting at the poor British ( may God forgive me) and they were doing their best to fire back at me. Unsurprisingly the BBC banned it.
Well Í don't really blame them for it, I was doing my very best to kill them and they were doing their very best to kill me. War. The British called it the, 'Great Game', after Rudyard Kipling, a English poet. In War however you either live or die. No mistakes are allowed. But it was my country, it wasn't theirs and that always puts an enemy on a back foot. The loosers loose everything: https://guides.osu.edu/c.php?g=300070&p=7043825
I had the pleasure of visiting Saul church today. Dichu the local chief gifted Patrick a barn (in Irish Sabhail) which he converted into a church and he died there on 17 March (461AD). It is a most peaceful spot. Also our priest at mass who lives in Saul says you can see Slemish mountain from Saul. Slemish is where he was held captive for six years. It's ten minutes from my home so I am truly blessed to live in St Patrick country.
Well, thankfully Our Lady had much bigger plans for you. She only recruits the bravest of soldiers, the most faithful and the most willing, with eyes to see and with ears to listen; willingly to take to heart what she has to say, and to share what's to be shared. God bless you for being so faithful ~
Hope you all had a blessed day. I’ve been to Ireland twice, once as a child and once with my own family. Both times I was enchanted by the beauty of the landscape. I was driving alone in the car on the way to collect the others, and passed through the Ring of Kerry. I loved it when I saw it as a child, now as an adult I had travelled to many places in the world but still this place seemed to me the most beautiful on earth. I thought that heaven alone might be its equal and only because there is a resemblance. I would love to visit Knock. I love the story of it. Not been to NI either but my youngest daughter loved it.
I would love to go to Ireland for an in depth visit. I've only been to Dublin, the Wicklow mountains and a little coastal town("Cobh"??) I can't remember the name. We were on a cruise. I remember the green was so impossibly majestically green. Like no green anywhere else on earth. So I totally understand why it is called the Emerald Isle. I wish I had records of my Irish ancestors to know where they came from. O'Conners and Culletins and Murphys. Could be from anywhere i suppose. No one thought to pass down the information.
Ancestry.com offers programs to trace European ancestry. $$$$ One of the problems with that is the lack of official record keeping in the past.
My uncle gleaned info from going to Greece and talking to people and I guess looking for church records Baptism, marriage etc Deaths But that was his pleasure to do in retirement lol correction It was my cousin
Yes the green is intense. I think it’s because there is little heavy industry and the winds blow over the sea so little air pollution. I have O’Connor in my own tree but no idea where they were from. My father told me that a lot of Irish records were destroyed in the troubles. So sad. It’s difficult to trace Irish ancestors if you don’t have much information.
