Climbing the Family Tree

Thursday, October 20, 2005

The Martins

Wednesday October 19, 2005

The Martin dairy farm at Knockanbrack is at the top of a hill several miles outside of Galbally. This 20 acre piece of property has been in the Martin / Kelly family for at least 5 or 6 generations. It was left to Willie when his father passed away 3 years ago. The have 40 cows which produce approximately 150 liters of milk a day.

When my grandmother’s niece Mary Condon married John Martin 53 years ago, there was no electricity or running water. At some point part of the house burned and was rebuilt. The new portion is attached to the remains of the old stone building which now serves as a storage shed. The house sits just over and below the top of the hill to protect it from the cold winter winds. From the front pasture you look out on the Galtee Mountains and from behind the “shed” (barn) you look on the rolling hills of Limerick.

Mary and John Martin raised 10 children in this small home that contains the accumulation of generations. The walls are covered with family photos, religious prints or photos of the late Pope John-Paul II. Mary has been to Lourdes on several occasions the most recent this past summer. She has one brother and is in good health at age 72 although she did suffer a heart attack a few years back and is on medication. All but two of the children – Willie and Michael – are married. Willie and Michael live at home and all but one of the others live relatively near by. Catherine Ita (Katie) is named for my Grandmother.

Like their father and Grandfathers before them, many of the children, are farmers and with the exception of Patrick who is a carpenter, the remainder work in the meat packing plant. This is the main industry in the area although it employees far fewer than it used to. Jackie is on disability from the plant with disk problems in his back. Michael suffered from a severe case of Scardosis several years back that affected his lungs and other vital organs. He was in the hospital for nine months. The treatment was high doses of steroids. He survived but lost the hearing in one ear and some in the other, lost some of his eyesight, and suffered some neurological damage. He speech is often difficult to understand and he can become obsessed with tangents or fantasies. Although he requires close supervision, he can help Willie. The rest of the family members are in good health.

Simply keeping up with the daily chores is more than enough for one man – even with Michael’s help. And he has been making improvements required by the EU regulations. Willie laments that he doesn’t have time to keep up with the mounting number of maintenance and clean-up tasks he would like to do. Despite the hardships, there is great generosity, many smiles and much laughter in this family.

I walk in the door to a warm welcome and a seat by the fire. Food and drink is constantly being offered. While I am not a big tea drinker, I soon learn to sip tea with milk and sugar – sense it is constantly in front of me. While the family does not drink much, I am provided with a small glass of brandy before bed.

They have been going through stacks of photos and papers in preparation for my arrival. I had expected to see photos of family I had never known, but I am stunned to see pictures of my immediate family that I had never seen: me at 3 ½ months in my grandmother’s arms; my mother, father, uncle and aunt sitting on a coach together, my mother and grandmother, my grandparents, and on and on. As a child I have vague memories of going of to family gatherings at someone’s home in the country – I know that the Cronin’s are their but I can’t remember whose house it was. But here are photos of these events with carefully written descriptions on the back in my grandmother or my Great-Aunt Mary’s handwriting.

There are also photos of the Great-Aunts and Great-Uncles who stayed in Ireland and my Great-Grandparents. There are photos of the house my dad visited when on leave from the army the Christmas of 1946 and a photo of the thatched roof house my Grandmother grew up in.

Mary Martin tells me that she would often come across her mother in the fields or milking a cow with tears in her eyes. She would ask what the matter was and Bridget would say she was thinking about her older sisters who went away to America when she was very young and whom she would never see again. When she was older she saved money to go to America to visit Ita and Mary – but she did not want to go alone and her sister Lena was afraid to fly and Mary who was not afraid to fly had all the children to look after.

Mary reminds me of my grandmother. She is short with a rounded body. Her eyes sparkle when she smiles and she smiles often. She has a subtle sense of humor. As do most her she has a large statue of Mary. Without the room to create a separate grotto, she has placed this statue along with one of Jesus in the greenhouse along with some other statues she has collected. She laughs when she said that some might be surprised to see Mary and Jesus and Laurel and Hardy standing together.

The power in the neighborhood will be turned off for most of the day tomorrow while the electric company upgrades the system – another cousin (the sole surviving child of my grandmother’s oldest brother) has offered to have us to dinner at 12:30 while the power is out and to then show me some of the older family homes.

I go to bed feeling at home and delightfully overwhelmed with information.

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

<< Home