Exciting discovery of historic childhood texts

Today, and on every day in many locations across the world, drawers that have down the years become  convenient filing places for all sorts of everything that can be labelled ‘Important’, are being tidied. In one such drawer there has been an  exciting discovery of childhood texts  that are important social and historic documents.

There are two texts, each set upon double pull-out centre pages of  lined  20th (?) Century school copy books. The dimension of each manuscript is identical – 16 centimetres by 20 centimetres, in a double fold.  It is clear however that one of these manuscripts pre-dates the other by as much as 1 or 2  or possibly even 3 years. Both are on lined paper – designed to enable scholars to keep ‘straight’ when learning to write – a skill no longer  required as texts and  emails auto select to straight lines.  The writing implement appears to be of similar origin in both cases -  HB or 2 H lead pencil, popular in the late 20th Century, when ink pens were considered messy and those of a certain age were dissuaded from using the high-tech ‘biro’ which made for slovenly script.

One of the documents, has interesting script on the reverse. Note the embellished lettering in ‘SANTA’  and the more austere style of the warnings, each bounded by lines.  A thorough search of all online resources – digitized newspapers and magazines and pension records  - did not reveal that an individual named ‘NOT SANTA’  suffered any great peril for having accessed private correspondence. It can be deduced therefore that ‘ONLY SANTA’ opened this document and that privacy was maintained. (It is also earnestly hoped that the warning was time-bound and has now expired) 

Text of request to the mythological figure, Santa

The main body of the text is headed by another highlighted form of SANTA, but with less embellishment than the former. Intriguingly, the words ‘Dear’ and ‘Santa’ are on separate lines. The request for  Crossbows and Catapults indicates a possible interest in conflict.( One wonders if this was an enduring interest.) Research shows that this was a game popular in the mid 1980′s. Item number 3 is of  some interest as it is not specified and the reader is left to guess the writer’s intention. Santa would of course have had ‘inside knowledge’ and would have been able to ‘fill the gap’

The second letter.

The other letter is of a much more basic form –  no embellishment  of the word ‘SANTA ‘,  although it stands out clearly from the other script.  Once again the words ‘Dear’ and ‘Santa’ are on different lines. The list has grown and indicates an expanded list of requests. It is clear that the writer is of high status with access to a television and magazines, given the requests for no fewer than  6 items of Celtic ‘livery’. Subbeto ( Subbuteo?) normally came with a fabric pitch –  it is to be hoped that the request for a plastic pitch was met.We will never know.

One of these letters has a full name and address, regrettably no longer legible which is just as well as the ‘peril’ warning may still be in effect. These documents are a wonderful record of childhood as well as of social history. It is a matter of great regret that the year has not been recorded and it is to be hoped that this post will serve as a reminder to people who put things away in drawers that the date should be added to any such documents so that when they are rediscovered decades later, there are properly contextualized.

 

Martin Luther King in a Donegal living room

Stone of Hope Memorial to Martin Luther King, Washington D.C.

In August 1963, when I was 15 years of age, I was running to do something in the kitchen. (We tended to run in those days instead of walking!) Passing by the open living room door where my father was watching the news on television, I was stopped dead in my tracks by the rousing words ‘I.. HAVE… A DREAM ‘.I was aware that there were ongoing civil rights issues in the USA at that time, and the name Martin Luther King was familiar. I had not however ever heard him speak before and I was riveted to the spot.

Martin Luther King Jnr at the Civil Rights Demonstration in Washington DC on August 28 1963

This was Martin Luther King, the voice of Black America, delivering a speech in which the spoken word became a servant of his cause. It was beamed across the world and affected the lives on many of the millions who watched, including myself, a teenager in County Donegal, Ireland.

It has been revealed in a book, Behind the Dream, by Clarence Jones, a close associate of King,  that when he was delivering the speech a singer who had performed earlier in the programme called out ’tell them about the dream Martin, tell them about the dream.’  King put his speech to one side and so the ‘I have a dream’ part of this speech was not scripted, but was delivered spontaneously  and from the heart with raw emotion.

Martin Luther King was  assassinated in Memphis, Tennessee  on this day 45 years ago,  April 4, 1968. He was 39 years old. His messages of justice and equality, his rhetoric and his inspiration live on, resonating across the decades.  He delivered many memorable speeches, but it is ‘I have a Dream‘ that made him a household name across the world.

One of the inscriptions on the wall at the Martin Luther King Memorial in Washington D.C. These words are from his acceptance speech for the Nobel Peace Prize in December 1964

This is the full text  of ‘I have a Dream‘ delivered at the march on Washington, DC, August 28, 1963.

I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation.

Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of their captivity.

But one hundred years later, the Negro still is not free. One hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. One hundred years later, the Negro is still languishing in the corners of American society and finds himself an exile in his own land. So we have come here today to dramatize a shameful condition.

In a sense we have come to our nation’s capital to cash a check. When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men, yes, black men as well as white men, would be guaranteed the unalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note insofar as her citizens of color are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check, a check which has come back marked “insufficient funds.” But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. So we have come to cash this check — a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice. We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to make real the promises of democracy. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quick sands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood. Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God’s children.

It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment. This sweltering summer of the Negro’s legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. Nineteen sixty-three is not an end, but a beginning. Those who hope that the Negro needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to business as usual. There will be neither rest nor tranquility in America until the Negro is granted his citizenship rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges.

But there is something that I must say to my people who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice. In the process of gaining our rightful place we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred.

We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force. The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Negro community must not lead us to a distrust of all white people, for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny. They have come to realize that their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom. We cannot walk alone.

As we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall always march ahead. We cannot turn back. There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, “When will you be satisfied?” We can never be satisfied as long as the Negro is the victim of the unspeakable horrors of police brutality. We can never be satisfied, as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of travel, cannot gain lodging in the motels of the highways and the hotels of the cities. We cannot be satisfied as long as the Negro’s basic mobility is from a smaller ghetto to a larger one. We can never be satisfied as long as our children are stripped of their selfhood and robbed of their dignity by signs stating “For Whites Only”. We cannot be satisfied as long as a Negro in Mississippi cannot vote and a Negro in New York believes he has nothing for which to vote. No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream.

I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from narrow jail cells. Some of you have come from areas where your quest for freedom left you battered by the storms of persecution and staggered by the winds of police brutality. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive.

Go back to Mississippi, go back to Alabama, go back to South Carolina, go back to Georgia, go back to Louisiana, go back to the slums and ghettos of our northern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed. Let us not wallow in the valley of despair.

I say to you today, my friends, so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.

I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: “We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal.”

I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.

I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.

I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.

I have a dream today.

I have a dream that one day, down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of interposition and nullification; one day right there in Alabama, little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers.

I have a dream today.

I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together.

This is our hope. This is the faith that I go back to the South with. With this faith we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.

This will be the day when all of God’s children will be able to sing with a new meaning, “My country, ’tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing. Land where my fathers died, land of the pilgrim’s pride, from every mountainside, let freedom ring.”

And if America is to be a great nation this must become true. So let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire. Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York. Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania!

Let freedom ring from the snowcapped Rockies of Colorado!

Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California!

But not only that; let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia!

Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee!

Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill of Mississippi. From every mountainside, let freedom ring.

And when this happens, when we allow freedom to ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God’s children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual, “Free at last! free at last! thank God Almighty, we are free at last!”

References:

http://www.nobelprize.org

http://www.nps.gov (Memorial Pictures)

International Women’s Day: The Gender Agenda

“The Gender Agenda: Gaining Momentum” is the theme for International Women’s Day on Friday next 8, March.

The story of how this annual celebration came about is  so worth repeating as it is in itself a triumph  of ‘ The Gender Agenda’ and an inspiration to all of us girls who want to celebrate the road  travelled in our name, or raise awareness of  paths that still need to be trod on behalf of our sisters across the world.

From my blog of March 2011, to mark the centenary of this international event:

The first International Women’s Day was celebrated in March 1911. It had its origins in America a few years earlier where women had come together to protest against poor working conditions, resulting in a National Women’s Day being declared by the Socialist Party of America. Subsequently at an International Conference for Working Women in Copenhagen, attended by delegates from 17 countries, and including the first 3 women elected to the Finnish Parliament, a proposal to have a special day each year to focus on women’s issues was met with unanimous approval.

Austria, Germany, Switzerland and Denmark observed the first International Women’s Day in March 1911. More than a million men and women attended rallies in support of women’s right to work, right to vote, right to hold public office. In 1913, Russian women observed International Women’s Day campaigning for peace and in 1914, other European countries joined in.

In 1917, amid great unrest in Russia caused by millions of casualties, terrible food shortages, and with many women removed from farms to work in the factories, International Women’s Day prompted 90,00 workers to strike and the army at Petrograd to revolt. Attempts to end the unrest were not successful and Tsar Nicholas II abdicated some days later. The new provisional government granted universal suffrage with equality for women.

Down the decades, the movement has continued to grow and has become a worldwide event in countries all over the world. In 25 countries it is an official holiday while in China Madagascar and Nepal it is an official holiday for women only. In many countries from Bangladesh to Guinea, from Vietnam to Iceland, from Afghanistan to Zambia, events will take place on March 8th to mark International Women’s Day. The top 5 countries for International Women’s day activity to mark the centenary on March 8th are the UK, Canada, Australia, the United States and Ireland.

International Women’s Day has evolved into a global day of celebration of the achievements of women, socially, politically, and economically. Women’s rights campaigners highlight inequalities and raise money for Charity and   Celebrities the world over associate themselves with the day.

So, whether you want to celebrate, raise awareness for a cause or make a call for action, International Women’s Day is a special day for our Gender Agenda! Go on, DO something!

And while we are at it, what about an International Women’s Day event for Female Bloggers! If interested, please share this post and we may be able to build an online event across the globe to celebrate who we are!

 

For a list of hundreds of activities and events by country, see http://tinyurl.com/bpve9tg

 

 

Discovering Bere Island

The Admiral’s House! It was to this very prestigious address that I had been invited for a long weekend on Bere Island, County Cork, Ireland. Mindful of the fate of the Titanic, I averted my gaze  on leaving the mainland  and refused to contemplate how the semi submerged remains of what may well have been the ferries of yesteryear ended up on the bottom of the harbour

Above, birds enjoying the remains of a boat at Pontoon ferry departure point, Castletownbere where another once-proud vessel lies abandoned(below)

I committed myself and my vehicle to the capable hands of Murphy’s Ferries to make the short crossing to Bere Island. I cautiously looked around for the lifeboats. None! OK. if my time is up, it is up and I will sink into beautiful Bantry Bay, the deepest natural harbour in Europe!There was a brief  heart-stopping moment when, about 2/3rd of the way across, I saw  what appeared to be a mast and a funnel poking out of the water.  Could this have been a ferry?  No –too big! A bigger REAL ship perhaps?  It turned out to be the wreck of  the  M.V Bardini Reefer, a Panamanian Factory Fishing Vessel, that on 15 December 1982 caught fire and sank!

However, our trusty ferry arrived safe and sound, as it always does, and soon I was enjoying negotiating the narrow, high hedged roads and laneways of Bere Island. The Admiral’s House did not disappoint with its imposing views of Bantry bay and the mainland.

An image of the Admiral’s House from The Admiral’s House webpage!

And so  began a few days of  discovery – spectacular views; gorgeous lanes edged by beautiful linear meadows and hedgerows;  loud silence in marked contrast to military emplacements that once guarded the entrance to Bantry Bay.

Bere is a place for walkers. Suitably clad to deal with changes in temperature and sudden heavy short-lived showers, we headed off on the Rerrin Loop.  Rerrin, the small village is at the eastern end of the island, where the Irish Army still has a presence.

At the eastern end of the island stands an impressive gun emplacement, guarded by a deep moat and kept mown by a herd of goats who share this place with a couple of colonies of bats. It is hoped that eventually this spot can be developed  into a unique tourist attraction.

Goats guard gun emplacements at Lonehort Battery (above). The hedgerows of Bere island are beautiful, untouched by pollution and with many species growing alongside one another.

Fuchsia, gorse, heather, digitalis, honeysuckle, meadow-sweet among others, mingle together. 

Another noticeable feature of the island is the number of ruined and abandoned stone cottages . Abandoned  perhaps because of migration, death or for an upgrade to more modern conditions. Whatever the reason, they leave an indelible mark on the landscape of places that perhaps once resounded with the sounds of children playing  and laughing, but are now in deep silence.

Once a home. Some cottages have signs of once having had gardens and flowers surrounding them.

This hydrangea is now almost as high as the cottage itself and stands in enduring tribute to the person who planted it many years ago.

This cottage, on the roadside has an intriguing stone set into the wall engraved with the date June 1854 – it would be fascinating to discover the significance of this date to the people who lived here once upon a time.

Bere Island has a rich heritage. Vikings, French and British have landed here and the island  monuments reflect this varied history.  Among the older monuments is the Standing Stone (below) dating from at least a millennium BC . This impressive stone stands at the very centre of the island.

Martello Towers,  relics of the early 19th century are on prominent positions on the island and are accessible to walkers who can enjoy the stunning views.(below)

For the less energetic, there are  other fascinating and beautiful walks all over the island with the wonders of nature all around.

Bere is a place of extraordinary beauty, a place of great peace  - far from the hustle, bustle and humdrum of every day life.

As I departed on my ferry after a few days, I earnestly wish to pay a return visit to discover even more of this place that is truly a place apart.

Murphy’s Ferry leaving Bere Island  (Image from D Shiels)

Further reading:

Information on  Martello Towers can be seen here

Information on Bere Island here

 

European e-Inclusion Awards – Finalist Showcase

The European Commissions e-Inclusion Awards finalist brochure has been published. Here are fascinating and humbling stories of people who have overcome exclusion and disadvantage and launched themselves into a whole new world by joining the digital revolution. The stories are brief but inspiring and have lessons for us all. I am looking forward to meeting these amazing people in Brussels when we will all be guests of the European Commission over the next couple of days. My good wishes to all!

To read about all finalist s click here

To Australia,with hope – March 1841

On March 28th 1841, brothers  Henry  and Robert de Burgh, aged 24 and 18 respectively, sons of Thomas de Burgh, Dean of Cloyne, Oldtown, County Kildare  set sail for the Swan River Colony in Western Australia. Although well-educated, their father had not been able to set them up in business, so they decided to try their luck in the new colony where land was freely available. With the help of their mother who had independent means, they purchased  equipment and goods to enable them to begin farming in the new world. Taking a mortgage on the brig the ‘James Matthews’, they filled the cargo hold with all manner of  goods that could be sold on arrival in Fremantle on the Australian West Coast,  including 7,000 slates and farming implements. They departed from London – on board were three passengers, including the 2 de Burgh brothers plus a crew of fifteen.

The ‘James Matthews’ under sail. Image Museum of Western Australia

During the voyage, Henry kept a journal, noting that on April 13th they were off Lisbon, Portugal. On the 19th they crossed the tropic of Cancer and launched a boat in pursuit of a turtle, instead of which they captured many Portuguese Men of  War! By April 22nd, nearing the Cape Verde Islands off the West Coast of Africa, they landed on  Saint Nicholas Island to meet the natives. Sailing on southwards they met with vessels sailing north back to England and sent letters to family members. On May 8th they ”passed under the bows of the ‘Ellen’ laden with emigrants for Adelaide…In the evening of the same day we came close under the ‘Christina’ to the same port and Robert and I accompanied the captain on board to supper”

Having stopped in Cape Town for 7 days, they set off across the Indian Ocean arriving safely off the coast of Western Australia on July 20th. The voyage from London had taken 3 months and 23 days. (See previous post To Australia, with love - modern-day journey by air takes 33 hours!) Some on board landed on Garden Island and caught some fish. They then  anchored in nearby Cockburn’s Sound and the Fremantle Harbour Master  brought them in to Owen’s Anchorage where everyone was busy packing up to leave ship. Owing to a strong breeze they were unable to put away the cargo boats, so they remained on board until conditions improved. However, the breeze became a violent storm and the ship was thrown up on the rocks and sank on July 22 1841. Fortunately all hands, with one exception, were taken to safety.

Henry and Robert de Burgh went on to become successful farmers. Henry had to  return to Kildare on the death of his father in 1845. Robert stayed on and eventually bought a substantial property at Cowalla on the Moore River where he lived with his wife and  children. Sadly in 1865 their three youngest children, aged 7, 5 and 3 years died of diphtheria within 3 days of each other – that they were so far from medical help may have been a factor in the loss of the children. The family then bought an estate of several hundred acres at  Caversham in the Swan Valley, an area renowned today for its many wineries and vineyards. Active in public life until his health failed, Robert  died in 1884 at the age of 62. Robert de Burgh’s grandson,Walter de Burgh, still owns land and lives nearby. The earlier holding at Cowalla remained in the  family until 1972  and part of it that contained the family home has now been classified by the National Trust.

The story of these migrants may have ended there but for the fact that in July 1973, 132 years  to the very day that she was wrecked, divers discovered the wreck of the ‘James Matthews’, lying in 2 to 3 metres of water and covered in sand. Over several seasons archaeologists from the Western Australia Maritime Museum recovered a large number of artifacts. Items of cargo loaded in London for the use of settlers  were brought to the surface – thousands of stone roofing slates, glass window panes, heavy door hinges, carpenters tools, stoneware, clay pipes, bottles of wine, cooking pots and a chess set carved by Henry de Burgh during the voyage. After rescuing some 3500 artefacts the hull was once again filled with sand to protect it from the elements.

Artifacts recovered from wreck of the ‘James Matthews’, including chess pieces carved on the voyage. On display at the Shipwrecks Gallery,  Fremantle,Western Australia.

Clay pipes, bottles,hinges recovered from the James Matthews

Some of the many thousands of slates recovered from the wreck – the majority were given to the National Trust for use in conservation of old buildings

When the wreck was first discovered, not much was known about the ‘James Matthews’. However, Lloyds Register of Shipping in London showed that the ship had an earlier ‘life’ as she had been seized either as a pirate or slaver or in wartime. The Board of Trade transcripts for Dominica in 1837 stated as follows:

… Prixe to H.H brig Griffon No 6 of 1837. Brought into this port for a breach of the Treaty for the Abolition of the Slave Trade.

Built in France around 1800 and originally known as the Voltigeur, she was purchased by a ruthless slave trader  Don Francisco Felix de Souza who  converted her into a slave runner and renamed her the Don Francisco. She was captured near Dominica in 1836 with 439 West African slaves on board. It was the custom to put captured slave ships beyond use by setting them ablaze or breaking  them up . The Don Francisco however avoided this fate and was ultimately resold and renamed the ‘James Matthews.’

The real archaeological value of the brig ‘James Matthews’, may rest in its earlier history as a slave ship – for it is the only slave ship known to still exist! It is hoped that one day the entire  hull may be excavated and raised to the surface. If this happens and an exhibition is mounted, it would be the first of its kind of a slave ship anywhere in the world.

The Batavia Exhibit

And who better to undertake this work than the excellent Western Australia Maritime Museum? Visitors to the Fremantle Maritime Museum, south of Perth in Western Australia  are astounded by the Batavia exhibit – a shipwreck from 1629. Lost on her maiden voyage, a huge part of her is on display at the Museum.

A similar breathtaking exhibit of the ‘James Matthews’, slave ship would indeed be a wonderful and unique attraction.

References:

The last Voyage of the James Matthews , W.J DeBurgh and Graeme Henderson, Museum of Western Australia

Museum of Western Australia, Maritime Archaeology

http://history.knoji.com/shipwrecks-of-tragedy-the-story-of-the-ex-slave-ship-james-matthews

To Australia,with love – February 2012

It was foggy. It was wet. It was cold. It was a February afternoon in Cork Ireland, the starting point for my great excursion across the world. Soon, at a height of 31,000 feet above Wales, we broke free of the grey cloud and rain and cruised over a tapestry of snow-covered fields lit by the evening sun. From east of the Bristol Channel all the way over to London Heathrow, England, the countryside was iced in snow, making a beautiful ground pattern far below. This was  the first leg of what was to be a long journey.

Snow covered approach to London Heathrow on an Aer Lingus Flight from Cork, Ireland on a misty cold winter evening.

Departure on the second leg  was delayed  for about 10 minutes as the pilot asked us not to be alarmed to see the wings of the plane being sprayed for de-icing purposes! A further delay ensued as the plane ahead of us became ‘stuck’ and we were  re- routed to another runway. Finally, almost an hour behind schedule, the great Singapore Airlines Airbus A380 with capacity for 850 passengers, lifted effortlessly and smoothly into  the night  sky. Below, London’s countless millions of lights sparkled and stretched for miles as we climbed higher and higher. 7,067 miles to go to our destination, Singapore!

Out over Biggin Hill, best  known for its role in the Battle of Britain in the second World War, we head  south towards  Dover to cross the English Channel into Europe and onwards across  Belgium, Luxembourg, Germany, and the Czech Republic. South of  Bielsko-Biała in Poland we turn southwards into Slovakia, across Hungary and into Romania. We then head over the Black  Sea – once a blue blob on my geography school atlas, now a vast expanse of water  - indeed a ‘sea’,  miles below. Here, some 1,500 miles into our flight, we met the salmon- pink light of dawn of the following day, as the sun relentlessly made its way to Cork, Ireland where I had come from, some eleven hours earlier.

On the far shore of the Black Sea we fly over Georgia, with its capital Tbilisi, and on south of  the Caucasus Mountains to Armenia. We are now 6 miles high  in the sky over the crossroads between Eastern Europe and Western Asia as we leave Azerbaijan and cross the south-western part of the Caspian  Sea. Georgia, Armenia and Azerbaijan – almost unknown to many when they were part of the USSR – now all too familiar as  they appear on our news bulletins from time to time. Iran, also so often on our TV screens, is below, and soon we are above Afghanistan, another of the world’s  troubled places. We fly on over neighbouring  Pakistan, and on into  India. I wonder if I might even catch a glimpse of the mighty Himalayas in the distant north!

Leaving India by the east coast, we reach the Bay of Bengal – the first major stretch of water we cross (a great relief to those of us who wondered about the usefulness of life vests in the event of falling out of the sky over dry land!) The next land we see is the Andaman Islands, of which I was vaguely aware prior to 2004, but since the devastating tsunami on December 26th the name is all too familiar.  Phucket in Thailand – familiar for the same reason- is now to our north as we head along the coast of Thailand  to Malaysia. With 600 odd miles to go I am conscious of clouds outside the windows –  clouds 6 miles high??!  Now in the tropics, we have a good ‘shaking’ as we meet  severe turbulence to remind us that nature rules!  Keeping west of Kuala Lumpur we head for Singapore on the southernmost tip of the peninsula. Dropping down, it is surprising to see so many cargo ships  - dozens and dozens  in rows – lying at anchor in the bay and it is easy to understand that Singapore is one of the top  three busiest seaports in the world! The passenger in the seat next to me wonders if Singapore, being ‘such a small place, will have steps of the proper height’  to allow us to disembark from our plane –  I smile knowing that a surprise awaits her! So, 13 hours after leaving London, we touch down safely at Singapore Changi, in exotic south-east Asia. The airport has a fabulous butterfly garden, flowing water features with exotic orchids everywhere and terrific  facilities for transit passengers.

Refreshed and soon on the way again, we climb into the sky out over the South China Sea  on the final 2,386 miles of the journey to Perth, Western Australia.  We cross the equator into the southern hemisphere as we  head towards Jakarta and across the Indian Ocean.  Some four hours  into the flight,to the  east high above  the west coast of Australia a misty reddish hue appears on the horizon, gradually spreading into turquoise , yellows, oranges and reddish golds. I have met my first  Australian dawn!

At about 4 30 am the sun begins to show on the horizon

Reflections from my aircraft seat as the sun rises over Western Australia

As we get closer to Perth WA, clouds sit above the golden new day.

In another hour, 33 hours after my journey began, I will step out into the Australian heat to meet my family – three generations of them – who have left Ireland for a new life in Australia. For generations, Australia has been a destination for the Irish diaspora-  many forcibly transported to penal colonies there, many emigrating by choice and many, as now , in the midst of an Irish economic depression emigrating through economic necessity in the hope of carving out a better future. Like many another parent, grandparent, brother or sister in Ireland today I have had to say goodbye to 3 of the 4 members of my direct family as they made that great migration across continents, across seas to far- away Australia. I am very fortunate that I have been able to make that long journey of 10,000 miles to visit them, and for  the next while their nearness will be thoroughly enjoyed and the vast distance that separates us will be forgotten!

Yet – in the still of the night, it is still hard to forget that  Australia is just too far away for those of us who have been left behind.

Bob Dylan – Blowing in the Wind of the 1960s

Bob Dylan and his harmonica 1963. Image from Guardian.co.uk

Being a teen in Ireland in the early 1960s was a fascinating time. The Irish television service had just been introduced in 1961, although those of us who lived near the border with the six counties of Northern Ireland had enjoyed the BBC for  several years before – all in black and white of course!

One of the abiding memories from my teens was at age 15, racing into the living room and being stopped in my tracks by Martin Luther King on the television, delivering his ‘I have a Dream’ speech, in Washington D.C. I was rooted to the spot. I also vividly recall the news reports of the war in Vietnam, the ‘FLOP-flop, FLOP-flop,FLOP-flop,FLOP-flop’ sound of Huey helicopters flying at terrifying angles and offloading their human cargoes of young men just a few years older than myself – either crouched and running,being carried on stretchers or in body bags. Never before had anything like these scenes been witnessed at a distance, by any generation. The impact on us was remarkable.

Dylan and Joan Baez. Civil Rights March Washington D.C 1963. Image wikipedia.com

At the same time music was evolving, leaving behind the big band and orchestral sounds and becoming much more exciting and exhilarating. For a huge number of teenagers and young adults in the 1960s, Bob Dylan was phenomenal. With his guitar and harmonica and ‘drawl style’ of singing, he was unique. ‘Blowin’ in the Wind’ and ‘The Times  they are a-Changin’ captured the mood exactly. They not only added an authenticity to the events, they challenged us not to remain complacent.

That Bob Dylan helped motivate an entire  generation to become socially aware, is probably an understatement.  Although he disliked the tag ‘protest song’, this is exactly what his compositions were to an emerging generation who were seeing things in their own homes that had only ever been read about in the past. His social commentaries were powerful motivators in making people question social inequality and the human cost of the Vietnam conflict. Not only that, his songs were like nothing we had heard before.  They had beautiful melodies, they were poetic, they had a social message. They were anthems of the time, most especially for the Civil Rights movement in the USA and for the anti-war movement, both of which, with the inspiration of Bob Dylan, became international movements.

For those of us emerging into adulthood in the sixties, Bob Dylan was a true icon. His poetry was inspiring; his message was beyond love-songs, beyond ‘ be-bop-a-doo-dah’ banality. His place in the politics, history and culture of the 1960s  enabled us to admonish those who perpetrated injustices in a way that had not been seen before and  not has been seen since.

How many roads must a man walk down, before you can call him a man?….. How many times must the cannonballs fly, before they are forever banned?…

How many years can some people exist, before they’re allowed to be free?… How many ears must one man have, before he can hear people cry?

How many deaths will it take till he knows  that too many people have died? The answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind

The answer is blowing in the wind.

Happy birthday, Bob Dylan –  you changed me…you changed the world !

Obama in Ireland I:In the footsteps of Douglass

Air Force One will touch down in Dublin, Ireland on Monday morning next, May 23rd 2011, carrying the President of the United States of America. Not for the first time has a President of the United States landed on this island. Presidents Kennedy, Nixon, Reagan, Clinton and Bush have all paid us visits.

Barack Obama’s interest in Ireland was a political one long before we or even he, heard of his familial ties to this country.

Frederick Douglass c 1860. Library of Congress.

One of the people greatly admired by Mr.Obama and often quoted by him during his presidential campaign was the anti-slavery campaigner, statesman and orator, Frederick Douglass. Douglass was an African-American escaped slave who had written his autobiography, The Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass, and toured the lecture circuit in the northern states of America.  In fear of recapture, he went to Europe to gain support for the anti slavery cause and arrived in Ireland in 1845.  In September 1845 he met Daniel O’Connell.

Daniel O'Connell, Champion of Liberty. Library of Congress.

Daniel O’Connell, ‘The Liberator’ was a lawyer who fought for the rights of the Irish who had been oppressed and ruled by the British for hundreds of years. He was vehemently opposed to violence and was committed to change by democratic means. As a skillful orator he attracted huge crowds to rallies across Ireland. He was known for his commitment to and support for many disenfranchised groups, including the slaves in the United States of America as well as Jews who did not have a vote at that time. He said “My political creed is short and simple.  It consists in believing that all men are entitled to civil and religious liberty.”

The 70-year-old O’Connell and the 27-year-old Douglass became firm friends. Douglass was deeply impressed by the oratorical skills of Daniel O’Connell and wrote in ‘Life and Times’,(the third version of his autobiography),’Eloquence came down upon the vast assembly like a summer thunder shower on a dusty road”.

Douglass was inspired and influenced both by O’Connell and by his time in Ireland. While in Dublin he wrote a new preface to his original work that demonstrated a new self-confidence as well as a deepening of his interest in human rights,  and added further dimension to his arguments for social change in his own country.

The story of Daniel O ‘Connell (1775 – 1847) and Frederick Douglass is told in the exhibition ‘Daniel O’Connell, The Man Who Discovered Ireland’ at Glasnevin Museum, which runs until December 2011.

References

Clare County Library – Daniel O’Connell accessed here.

Ferreira Patricia J. 2001 Frederick Douglass in Ireland:the Dublin edition of his Narrative, New Hibernia Review, Vol 5, Number 1, Spring 2001. Project Muse Referenced here.

Daniel O’Connell’s influence on Frederick Douglass accessed at About.Com

Glasnevin Cemetery Museum

Mother’s Day and The Battle Hymn of the Republic

John Brown Song. Image from Library of Congress

John Brown, an abolitionist determined to destroy the slavery system in America, led 21 supporters across the Potomac river from Maryland to Virginia, in October 1859. The aim was to seize weapons held at an arsenal in Harper’s Ferry that would  help further their cause to rid America of slavery. Brown’s mission came to an end two days later when the arsenal was stormed by U.S. troops, led by Colonel Robert E. Lee. Ironically,the first person killed by Brown’s men was a free black man named Heywood Shepherd and, of interest to us here in Ireland, the second person to die was an Irishman,Thomas Boerly, a native of County Roscommon who had arrived in the USA in 1844 in search of a better life. John Brown was seriously wounded in the fray and he was tried, found guilty of treason and hanged on December 2 1859. Very soon after his death his memory was preserved by the addition of new lyrics to an already established popular tune that became known as the John Brown Song. The John Brown Song was played in public for perhaps the first time on May 12, 1861 at a flag raising ceremony at Fort Warren, near Boston, very shortly after the start of the American Civil War. The song, better known as ‘John Brown’s Body‘, quickly became a hit in the Union army. New verses were added as its popularity grew, some of which were full of humour and mockery  - such as:

”We’ll feed old Jeff Davis sour apples/’til he gets the diarhee ” was a sung version, which in print became ’We’ll hang old Jeff Davis /from a sour apple tree”. Apparently social niceties of the time meant that hanging was much more acceptable than mention of bodily functions.

In November 1861, Julia Ward Howe, a writer, poet and herself a social reformer and abolitionist, visited  Washington D.C. to meet with President Abraham Lincoln. While there, she attended a public review of troops at which the John Brown Song was sung. Julia’s companion asked her if she could improve on the rather ‘coarse’ lyrics and pen some words that would be more appropriate for fighting men.

The Battle Hymn of the Republic. Published 1862

Julia recalled:

‘I went to bed that night as usual, and slept, according to my wont, quite soundly. I awoke in the gray of the morning twilight; and as I lay waiting for the dawn, the long lines of the desired poem began to twine themselves in my mind. Having thought out all the stanzas, I said to myself, ‘I must get up and write these verses down, lest I fall asleep again and forget them.’ So with a sudden effort, I sprang out of bed, and found in the dimness an old stump of a pen which I remembered to have used the day before. I scrawled the verses almost without looking at the paper‘.

And so, on the night of November 18th 1861, the words of ‘The Battle Hymn of the Republic’, full of biblical references, were composed by Julia in a room in the Willard Hotel, Washington D.C . They were first published in the Atlantic Monthly in February of the following year. The song was highly acclaimed and quickly became the anthem of the Union army and the best known song of the Civil War. It has survived down the years  as a very stirring and moving patriotic hymn of the United States, and much loved by people beyond their shores.

Julia had witnessed first hand the horrors of the civil war. As a member of the Sanitary Commission, set up to promote healthy and clean conditions in the camps of the Union Army in an attempt to reduce the numbers dying from infection, she had witnessed the terrible results of conflict – death, disease, maiming, bereavement, poverty, destruction of towns and infrastructure.  She also worked to support and raise funds to help the widows and orphans on both sides.

At the same time, Ann Jervis, a devout church goer and social activist, was also actively involved in bringing relief of suffering to those affected by the war. She had worked tirelessly to try to mend the rift between both sides of the conflict, and when the war ended the tensions between the returning Confederate and Union soldiers in Virgina where she lived were running high. In 1865 she organized a Mothers Friendship Day to bring together soldiers and families of both sides. The event, to the surprise of many who had expected fighting to break out, was a great success and was repeated on an annual basis for some years.

Julia meanwhile used her celebrity status to promote  pacifism and women’s suffrage. As a much sought after speaker she  had a forum for the promotion of peace. In 1870 at the outbreak of another war between France and Prussia  and influenced by the work of Ann Jarvis, she called on women everywhere to come together to oppose war and to seek peaceful resolution of conflicts. Julia issued her Mother’s Day Proclamation and proposed an annual Mother’s Day, honouring Peace, Motherhood and Womanhood. The idea was taken up and the day was celebrated in some cities across the nation for many years, but it was not the great success that she had hoped.

After the death of Ann Jarvis, her daughter Anna Jarvis decided to commemorate her own mother’s memory and began a crusade to have a national day for all mothers. The first such day was celebrated in a church in 1907 where Anne Jarvis as a young woman, had taught Sunday school. The idea spread and soon was being celebrated in 45 states.

Julia died in 1910, at the age of 91. While she is best known as the author of the Battle Hymn of the Republic, she is also recognized as a significant contributor to the establishment of a Mother’s Day.

Just a few years after her death, in 1914, President Woodrow Wilson declared the first National Mother’s Day and signed a Congressional Resolution declaring that the second Sunday in May would henceforth be a day to honour all mothers.

Julia Ward Howe c. 1861. Image Commons.Wikimedia.Org

Happy Mother’s Day to all readers who celebrate this day in May.  To see my post about Mothering Sunday in Ireland, click here.

References

Eyewitness to History – John Brown

James Fould, 2000. The Book of World-Famous Music: Classical, Popular, and Folk

About.Com Women’s History: Julia Ward Howe

Joseph Barry. The Strange Story of Harper’s Ferry. Accessed at Project Gutenberg