How do we relate to our ancestors? How do we gain the empathy to have personal feelings for these individuals at the head of one chart, the tail end of another? Robert Cowan and I talked with many individuals on our research journey: in the comfort of their homes into which we were so graciously invited, in automobiles as we where shown the byways and the sites off the highways; in research institutions, in coffee shops and pubs, at tourist locations, in the field and on the street. Our ears were open, and as we drove about, our eyes recorded what the textbooks just don't seem to get. I realized a few hours ago I had grown. Growing hurts. It is painful, disruptive, it causes a reassessment. It's unsettling and makes one tentative, protective of new growth. We had planned our research and implemented our plans. Our research went well, incredibly well. We had worked hard, we had worked smart and we spent what we needed to succeed. We had been lucky. And we were touched by what we were told. I noted a tone almost of apology in what we were told by our conversationalists. The skilled tradesman thatching a roof at the Ulster Folk Museum talked with us over an hour explaining his trade, showing us samples. The flax grown in Donegal is suitable only in the cordage industry. Do you understand those economic implications? The Bushmills guide explained that the grain for the distillation of Bushmill products came from the south of Ireland where the whether was more consistent, the sun hotter and the crops more reliable than in the north of Ireland. What does that tell us about the North of Ireland, the north of Donegal, the north of Antrim and Derry? Fleming explained. The sun in Donegal does not get hot enough to bring grain crops to a proper ripeness. There is too much cold rain. There are too many cloudy days. There is not enough sun. Typical crops rot in the field. Field crops don't grow to seed and ripen. They are grown for fodder, for silage for cattle. This is O.K. This is what is known now and treated scientifically. Under all is the land. Over time, land will be used for its highest and most productive purposes. The land in Donegal is for pasturage, not for grain and garden crops. It is so now. It was so 100, 200, 300 years ago and more. This is truth. The land was and is an extension of the Scottish Highlands. Sheep thrive there. Cattle do well. It is not a garden. It is not the land of milk and honey. They do not have fruit trees; there are no groves. It is not England. The wind rakes the blossoms from the boughs. The 1609 Plantation efforts were a terrible failure in that part of Ireland. Read Hanna. He makes the Plantation project into the desert that blossomed under the efforts of the protestant work ethic and the happy gestation place of American freedoms and liberty. Hanna is propaganda. We know now the manifold conditions under which our ancestors left Ireland. The rents, the trade conditions, the political situation, the religious entanglements, the crop failures. THE CROP FAILURES. The land simply would not produce a level and consistent market product to sustain the population. I could see this with my eyes. I could hear this with my ears. I knew this was the living truth, the cold, damp reality from which our ancestors turned their backs to the inhospitable cold, the hunger, the dank clouds of depression. They could not stay and stay the same. They had to move, they had to grow. There were few alternatives. This is what I saw, this is what I really came to understand. The wind rakes the blossoms from the boughs. Stand in their shoes, feel the anger, the sadness, the frustration of working year after year all for naught. This is a way to know them, those men and women of the 1700's who came here, who left Ireland, who cut that Gordian knot for new cordage and newer ties that bind. jcmaclay