1. Privateer Jeremiah O'Brien (1744-1818) was born in Maine and became a staunch supporter of the Revolutionary cause. On June 2, 1775, he led a raiding party, which included his four brothers, that seized the British warship "Margaretta" in Machias, Maine. The event took place five days before the Battle of Bunker Hill and is considered the first naval battle of the Revolution. O'Brien and his brother John was soon commissioned as privateers (ship captains authorized to seize enemy ships). 2. Michael J. O'Brien, born in Fermoy, Co. Cork, in 1869, arrived in America at the age of 20 and took a job with the Western Union Telegraph Co. The job (which he held for the next 46 hours!) required him to travel up and down the Atlantic Coast. Wherever he went, O'Brien poked around local libraries and archives, researching the history of the Irish and colonial America. Soon he began publishing his findings in the "Journal of the American Irish Historical Society" and continued doing so for more than 10 years. O'Brien was relentless and indefatigable, publishing countless articles and a dozen books, including "The Irish at Bunker Hill," "The Pioneer Irish in New England," and "A Hidden Phase of American History." To his end, his goal remained the same: to refute the nativist contention that the Irish had made no worthwhile contribution to American history. 3. Willis O'Brien (1886-1962) was born in Oakland, CA, and worked many jobs before finding his calling in film animation. Working as a cartoonist for a San Francisco newspaper, he started making sculptures in 1913. Soon, he began experimenting with rubber, allowing his models to move. O'Brien eventually found work with Thomas Edison's Biograph Company. His animated dinosaurs in "The Lost World" (1925) was a breakthrough moment in the history of film special effects. O'Brien's most famous work was his creation of King Kong for the 1933 film of the same name. O'Brien left a lasting impact on his field. His innovative techniques with miniatures were used for several decades. He also devised a rear-projection system that allowed live actors to appear in the mini-set. In 1950, the stop-animation techniques he developed earned him the first special Oscar awarded for special effects for his work on "Mighty Joe Young" (1949). O'Brien has been listed as among the 100-most! influential people in filmmaking history.

Hello Mike, If you see this please contact me about my enrollment. I tried contacting you at molaughlin@kc.it.com and received a message back "undelivered because they could not decipher kc.it. Thanks Michelle Wilson

THE BALLAD OF FATHER GILLIGAN The old priest Peter Gilligan Was weary night and day; For half his flock were in their beds, Or under green sods lay. Once, while he nodded on a chair, At the moth-hour of eve, Another poor man sent for him, And he began to grieve. "I have no rest, no joy, nor peace, For people die and die," And after cried he, "God forgive! My body spake, not I!" He knelt, and leaning on the chair He prayed and fell asleep; And the moth-hour went from the fields, And stars began to peep. They slowly into millions grew, And leaves shook in the wind; And God covered the world with shade, And whispered to mankind. Upon the time of sparrow-chirp When moths came once more, The old priest Peter Gilligan Stood upright on the floor. "Mavrone, mavrone! the man has died While I slept on the chair," He roused his horse out its sleep, And rode with little care. He rode now as he never rode, By rocky lane and fen; The sick man's wife opened the door: "Father! you come again!" "And is the poor man dead?" he cried, "He died an hour ago." The old priest Peter Gilligan In grief swayed to and fro. "When you were gone, he turned and died As merry as a bird." The old priest Peter Gilligan He knelt him at that word. "He Who hath made the night of stars For souls who tire and bleed, Sent one of His great angels down To help me in my need. He Who is wrapped in purple robes, With planets in His care, Had pity on the least of things Asleep upon a chair." -- William Butler Yeats

BIO: Audie Leon MURPHY was born in June of 1924 (or 1925), the son of poor Texas sharecroppers and the seventh of 12 children, only nine of whom survived past childhood. He was born in Hunt Co, in the Farmersville area and when his father, Emmett ("Pat") deserted the family, Audie dropped out of school to pick cotton to help support his mother, Josie, and his siblings. Audie learned how to use a rifle and to shoot small game for the table. His mother died when he was 16 and his siblings were sent to live with relatives and to orphanages. This baby-faced, shy and unassuming farmboy found that he was too short for the Marines and the paratroopers would not take him either, but he rose to national fame in the 3rd Infantry Division for his heroism and became the most decorated U. S. combat soldier of World War II - his honors included those for valour and the Congressional Medal of Honor. Having risked his own life innumerable times, in death-defying exploits, Murphy's small stone in Arlington National Cemetery is said by some to be "too small," as, indeed, he was said to have been. Actor James CAGNEY invited MURPHY to Hollywood in September of 1945, when he saw Murphy's photo on the cover of "Life Magazine." The handsome Murphy became an actor and was in a total of 44 films over 23 years. His first starring role was in "Bad Boy" in 1949, and he played himself in his own best-selling autobiography, "To Hell And Back," in 1955. Murphy was a rancher in CA and AZ, was a successful thoroughbred and quarter horse racehorse owner and breeder. He loved to gamble and won and lost fortunes. He wrote poetry and songs to include "Shutters and Boards," and "When the Wind Blows In Chicago." Always an advocate for the needs of veterans, Audie spoke out often and candidly about "battle fatigue" (post-traumatic stress disorder) when the subject was frowned upon. He repeatedly called on the government to give more study to the emotional impact of war on its veterans and to extend health care benefits. Murphy, himself, apparently suffered from a nervous disorder from the effects of war and had disturbing nightmares; it is said that he never slept without a gun under his pillow. Audie Murphy lost his own life at the age of 46 on a business trip with friends and associates on May 28, 1971, when his private plane flying in fog and rain crashed into the side of a mountain near Roanoke, VA.

THE BICYCLE There was a bicycle, a fine Raleigh with five gears And racing handlebars. It stood at the front door Begging to be mounted; The frame shone in the sun. I became like a character In "The Third Policeman," half Human, half bike, my life A series of dips and ridges, Happiness a free-wheeling Past fragrant hawthorn hedges. Cape and sou'wester streamed With rain when I rode to school Side-tracking the bus routes. Night after night I dreamed Of valves, pumps, sprockets, Reflectors and repair kits. Soon there were long rides In the country, wet week-ends Playing snap in the kitchens Of mountain youth-hostels, Day-runs to Monaghan, Rough and exotic roads. It went with me to Dublin Where I sold it the same winter; But its wheels still sing In the memory, stars that turn About an eternal centre, The bright spokes glittering. -- Derek Mahon (b. 1941 Belfast)

AILEEN AROON When, like the early rose, Aileen aroon! Beauty in childhood blows, Aileen aroon! When, like a diadem, Buds blush around the stem, Which is the fairest gem? Aileen aroon! Is it the laughing eye? Aileen aroon! Is it the timid sigh? Aileen aroon! Is it the tender tone, Soft as the stringed harp's moan? Oh, it is truth alone, Aileen aroon! When like the rising day, Aileen aroon! Love sends his early ray, Aileen aroon! What makes his dawning glow Changeless through joy or woe! Only the constant know, Aileen aroon! I know a valley fair, Aileen aroon! I knew a cottage there, Aileen aroon! Far in that valley's shade I knew a gentle maid, Flower of the hazel glade, Aileen aroon! Who in the song so sweet, Aileen aroon! Who in the dance so sweet, Aileen aroon! Dear were her charms to me, Dearer her laughter free, Dearest her constancy, Aileen aroon! Were she no longer true, Aileen aroon! What should her lover do? Aileen aroon! Fly with his broken chain Far o'er the sounding main, Never to love again, Aileen aroon! Youth must with time decay, Aileen aroon! Beauty must fade away, Aileen aroon! Castles are sacked in war, Chieftains are scattered far, Truth is a fixed star, Aileen aroon! -- Gerald Griffin (1803-1840)

HOSPITALITY IN ANCIENT IRELAND Oh King of stars! Whether my house be dark or bright, Never shall it be closed against any one, Lest Christ close His house against me. If there be a guest in your house And you conceal aught from him, 'Tis not the guest that will be without it, But Jesus, Mary's Son. -- Anonymous (13th century), translated by Kuno Meyer. >From the "Leabhar Breac (Speckled Book). A marginal note.

BIO: "Belated Honour For Antarctic Explorer," was the headline of the August 7, 2000 issue of the English "Guardian" newspaper. Edward BRANSFIELD, the long-forgotten British explorer who discovered Antarctica, was to be honored after nearly two centuries with a stamp commemorating his exploits. I had recalled reading In the 1999 #2 issue of "Irish Roots" magazine, Sheila Bransfield, of Orchard Cottage, Acol, Kent CT7 0JA, had issued a plea for information on her "famous explorer" ancestor whom she had heard of since a little girl. When the British Antarctic Survey launched their new Antarctic supply ship "RRS Bransfield" in 1970, her interest was stirred. She said that she was searching for any likeness of Edward and any letters or documents that existed. Edward had been born in Ireland during the British occupation and was press-ganged into the British Navy off Cork in June 1803, at the recommencement of the Napoleonic wars. Apparently, although Edward served for 18 years in the British Navy, very little is known about his life after the Royal Navy (then age around 36). He died in 1852 at 67, and is buried in Brighton. Sheila had discovered his badly neglected grave in 1997 and resolved to rectify the situation. She gratefully received donations from the ! UK Antarctic Heritage Trust and Trinity House and private donations and attracted the attention and help of HRH The Duke of Edinburgh, as Patron of the Society for Nautical Research. With personal funds Sheila embarked on a pilgrimage to "follow in Edward's footsteps." Her dream had been to land at George's Bay on King George Island in the South Shetland Islands and to raise the Union Flag in recognition of Edward's first landing there on 23 January 1820. She even took with her a metal detector, to search for a bottle containing coins of the realm buried by Edward near to the point where he placed the flag. Sheila left England on 24 January 1999 and eventually saw the South Shetlands on 29 January after flying 8,521 miles, spending 24 hours each in Buenos Aires and Ushuaia, and sailing 600 miles across the Drake Passage. She could just see King George Island and Penguin Island (in George's Bay) through a mist but they encountered a storm of a force of 9-10 and were unable to land. It was Sheila's hope to organize a "Bransfield Memorial Voyage" in January 2000 and to publish a biography. Per article in the English newspaper, The Royal Navy officer made the first recorded sighting of the frozen continent, but his memory had been eclipsed by the romantic legends of the later explorers Robert Falcon SCOTT and Ernest SHACKLETON. The stamp, to be issued in December, 2000, was to bear the image of a British Antarctic survey ship named after Bransfield (and would be accompanied by one honoring Shackleton), as a photograph or drawing of Bransfield had been sought, but none could be found. The stamp marked the culmination of a campaign to restore Bransfield's rightful place in history. At the forefront of this campaign, which included the restoration of his neglected grave in Brighton, was the officer's great-great-great-great-niece, Sheila Bransfield. Born in Ireland circa 1785, Edward BRANSFIELD was master or navigator aboard HMS "Andromache," based at Valparaiso, Chile, when a whaling ship arrived with news of land much further south than shown on existing maps. Bransfield commandeered a whaling brig, the "Williams" and charted the South Shetland Islands, which lie near the Antarctic peninsula. He then landed on King George Island to take formal possession and coasted to Deception Island. Turning southward in January 1820, he made the historic sighting of "high mountains, covered with snow," thought to be mounts Bransfield and Jacquinot on the Antarctic mainland. On his return, however, Bransfield found the Admiralty had scant interest in his discovery. Ms. Bransfield said, "The emphasis was on finding the northwest passage. It seems as if they had absolutely no interest in the Antarctic." The navigator's name lives on however, with a Mount Bransfield, Bransfield Island and Bransfield Strait in the Antarctic. An! extensive article covering Bransfield's early military history can be found in the 1999 #2 issue of "Irish Roots" magazine published in Cork, Ireland, and on the web.

Thomas CREAN was a prodigious traveler who sailed on three of the four momentous expeditions of Britain's Heroic Age and at that time rightly won the highest possible recognition for his achievements. He was a colorful, popular, handsome character who was one of the very few men to serve both Scott and Shackleton with equal distinction. At the end of it all, he retired to his native Co. Kerry and peacefully ran a public house and raised a family. Book review, "An Unsung Hero, Tom Crean, Antarctic Survivor," a moving account, honest, powerful - pub. 2001, Michael Smith, The Collins Press (ISBN 1-899998256-90-X).

BIO: Ernest Shackleton was born in Kilkea House, Co. Kildare on 15 Feb 1874. His father, Henry Shackleton, was a descendant of Abraham Shackleton, founder of the Quaker school in Ballitore in the 18th century. During the agricultural depression in the late 1870s, the Shackletons moved from Kilkea to Dublin and in 1884 to London. At the age of 16, Ernest was eager to pursue a career at sea and joined the Mercantile Marine as an apprentice. His first experience of polar exploration was as a member of Scott's expedition to the Antarctic in 1901-1903. He led his own expedition to the Antarctic on the whaling ship the "Nimrod" in 1909 and came within 97 miles of reaching the South Pole. In 1914, Shackleton commenced the third trip to the Antarctic when he set sail with his men on the ship "Endurance." On 19 January the ship was ice locked and when crushed in the following October, it had to be abandoned. Shackleton and his men walked across the ice floes on a journey which took five months. When they reached Elephant Island, Shackleton and five companions set off in a small boat for the whaling station of South Georgia Island over 500 miles away. The passage across the rough seas of the Antarctic is one of the most courageous in the history of polar exploration. On May 10, 1916, after reaching land, they made a ten-day overland trip before reaching the whaling station at Stormness. Shackleton finally rescued his men from Elephant Island on 30 August 1916. On January 5, 1922, Shackleton died on his fourth expedition of a heart attack on Georgia Island where he is buried. -- Excerpt, "Irish Roots" 1999 #2

GIPSIES I have watched the dark police rocking your caravans to wreck the crockery and wry thoughts of peace you keep there on waste ground beside motorways where the snow lies late (all this on television) and am ashamed; fed, clothed, housed and shamed. You might be interested to hear, though, that on stormy nights our strong, double glazing groans with foreknowledge of death, the fridge with a great wound, and not surprised to know the fate you have so long endured is ours also. The cars are piling up. I listen to the wind and file receipts; the heap of scrap metal in my garden grows daily. -- Derek Mahon (born Belfast 1941)

THE COT Scythe and axe and hedge-clippers, the shriek Of the gate the children used to swing on, Poker, scuttle, tongs, a gravel rake -- The old activity starts up again But starts up differently. We're on our own Years later in the same "locus amoenus," Tenants no longer, but in full possession Of an emptied house and whatever keeps between us. Which must be more than keepsakes, even though The child's cot's back in place where Catherine Woke in the dawn and answered "doodle doo" To the rooster in the farm across the road -- And it is the same cot I myself slept in When the whole world was a farm that eked and crowed. -- Seamus Heaney, born Derry 1939

KINSALE The kind of rain we knew is a thing of the past -- deep-delving, dark, deliberate you would say, browsing on spire and bogland; but today our sky-blue slates are steaming in the sun, our yachts tinkling and dancing in the bay like race-horses. We contemplate at last shining windows, a future forbidden to no-one. -- Derek Mahon (born Belfast 1941) SOLES "I caught four soles this morning," said the man with the beard; cloud shifted and a sun- shaft pierced the sea. Fisher of soles, did you reflect the water you walked on contains so very many souls, the living and the dead, you could never begin to count them? Somewhere a god waits rod in hand, to add you to their number. -- Derek Mahon (b. 1941, Belfast) .

Received this information from a list member: > The Stephen Foster Folk Culture Center State Park is located on the banks of > the Suwannee River here in White Springs, Florida. Stephen Foster's life and > songs are beautifully portrayed. Wed Wilson > ----- Original Message ----- > From: "Jean Rice" <jeanrice@cet.com> > Subject "Jeanie With The Light Brown Hair," -- Stephen C. FOSTER

BIO: Stephen Collins FOSTER (1826-1864), was one of America's best-loved songwriters. He composed sentimental Negro songs that were called "plantation melodies." These songs are deeply moving in their sincerity and their simplicity. Foster's most popular works include "Old Folks at Home" (also known as "Swanee River"); "My Old Kentucky Home, Good Night," "Old Black Joe," and Massa's in de Cold Ground." He also wrote such rollicking songs as Oh! Susanna" and "Camptown Races," and such romantic songs as "Come Where My Love Lies Dreaming," "Beautiful Dreamer," and "Jeanie with the Light Brown Hair." He wrote the words as well as the music for most of his 200 songs. Foster was born on July 4, 1826, hear Lawrenceville, PA (now a part of Pittsburgh). He had little musical training, but he had a great gift of melody. At the age of six, he taught himself to play the clarinet, and he could pick up any tune by ear. He composed "The Tioga Waltz" for piano at 14. Two years later, his first song, "Open Thy Lattice, Love," was published. He wrote his first minstrel melodies, which he called "Ethiopian songs," in 1845. These were "Lou'siana Belle" and "Old Uncle Ned." Blackface minstrel shows, in which white entertainers blackened their faces, were becoming popular in the U. S. Foster decided to write songs for the blackface minstrels and to improve the quality of their music. He went to Cincinnati in 1846 to work as a bookkeeper for his brother. He wrote "Oh! Susanna," that same year. Soon it became the favorite song of the "forty-niners" in the CA gold rush. He married Jane McDOWELL in 1850, and settled in Pittsburgh to work as a co! mposer. He arranged with the minstrel leader, Edwin P. CHRISTY, to have his new songs performed on the minstrel stage. Foster was a poor businessman, and he sold many of his most famous songs for very little money. He lived in NYC from 1860 until his death, struggling against illness, poverty, and alcoholism. Some of Foster's songs became so popular during his lifetime that they were adapted (with suitable words) for Sunday school use. Because they were deeply rooted in American folk traditions, the best of Foster's songs have become part of the American cultural heritage. Foster was born to a Pennsylvania pioneer family that had roots in Derry, Ireland.

BIO: Stephen Collins FOSTER (1826-1864), was one of America's best-loved songwriters. He composed sentimental Negro songs that were called "plantation melodies." These songs are deeply moving in their sincerity and their simplicity. Foster's most popular works include "Old Folks at Home" (also known as "Swanee River"); "My Old Kentucky Home, Good Night," "Old Black Joe," and Massa's in de Cold Ground." He also wrote such rollicking songs as Oh! Susanna" and "Camptown Races," and such romantic songs as "Come Where My Love Lies Dreaming," "Beautiful Dreamer," and "Jeanie with the Light Brown Hair." He wrote the words as well as the music for most of his 200 songs. Foster was born on July 4, 1826, hear Lawrenceville, PA (now a part of Pittsburgh). He had little musical training, but he had a great gift of melody. At the age of six, he taught himself to play the clarinet, and he could pick up any tune by ear. He composed "The Tioga Waltz" for piano at 14. Two years later, his first song, "Open Thy Lattice, Love," was published. He wrote his first minstrel melodies, which he called "Ethiopian songs," in 1845. These were "Lou'siana Belle" and "Old Uncle Ned." Blackface minstrel shows, in which white entertainers blackened their faces, were becoming popular in the U. S. Foster decided to write songs for the blackface minstrels and to improve the quality of their music. He went to Cincinnati in 1846 to work as a bookkeeper for his brother. He wrote "Oh! Susanna," that same year. Soon it became the favorite song of the "forty-niners" in the CA gold rush. He married Jane McDOWELL in 1850, and settled in Pittsburgh to work as a co! mposer. He arranged with the minstrel leader, Edwin P. CHRISTY, to have his new songs performed on the minstrel stage. Foster was a poor businessman, and he sold many of his most famous songs for very little money. He lived in NYC from 1860 until his death, struggling against illness, poverty, and alcoholism. Some of Foster's songs became so popular during his lifetime that they were adapted (with suitable words) for Sunday school use. Because they were deeply rooted in American folk traditions, the best of Foster's songs have become part of the American cultural heritage. Foster was born to a Pennsylvania pioneer family that had roots in Derry, Ireland.

JEANIE WITH THE LIGHT BROWN HAIR I dream of Jeanie with the light brown hair Borne, like a vapor, on the summer air; I see her tripping where the bright streams play, Happy as the daisies that dance on her way. Many were the wild notes her merry voice would pour. Many were the blithe birds that warbled them o'er: Oh! I dream of Jeanie with the light brown hair, Floating, like a vapor, on the soft summer air. I long for Jeanie with the daydawn smile Radiant in gladness, warm with winning guile; I hear her melodies, like joys gone by, Sighing round my heart o'er the fond hopes that die: Sighing like the night wind and sobbing like the rain, Wailing for the lost one that comes not again: Oh! I long for Jeanie, and my heart bows low, Never more to find her where the bright waters flow. I sigh for Jeanie, but her light form strayed Far from the fond hearts round her native glade; Her smiles have vanished and her sweet songs flown, Flitting like the dreams that have cheered us and gone. Now the nodding wild flowers may wither on the shore While her gentle fingers will cull them no more: Oh! I sigh for Jeanie with the light brown hair, Floating, like a vapor, on the soft summer air. -- Stephen Collins Foster ( 1826-64) Foster was the author of classic minstrel tunes such as "Camptown Races," "My Old Kentucky Home," "Oh, Susanna," and "Old Folks At Home," was born to a PA pioneer family that had roots in Derry, Ireland. In his 20-year career, he wrote approximately 200 songs, many of them romantic minstrel tunes that romanticized slavery and the Cotton Kingdom of the pre-Civil War South; remarkably, he only visited the region once. Many of his most popular works were penned while working with Edwin P. CHRISTY, one of the originators of the minstrel show.

In 1849 the Irish Emigrant Society of New York published an "Address to the People of Ireland" warning them not to believe the wild tales of easy fortunes to be had in America: "We desire, preliminarily, to caution you against entertaining any fantastic idea, such as that magnificence, ease, and health, are universally enjoyed in this country... It is natural for persons who have adventured to leave home and to seek their fortunes in a foreign and distant country to give highly coloured accounts of a success, which is reality, has been but the obtaining of a laborious employment;..."

Between the end of the American Revolution and the end of the War of 1812 (1783-1815), between 100,000 and 150,000 Irish immigrants landed in North America. Most were Ulster Presbyterians who came as farmers or artisans. Squeezed by high rents on their land and the collapse of the linen industry due to British free trade policy, more and more Irish looked to America as a place to begin anew. As economic conditions continued to worsen in Ireland, the numbers of immigrants soared. Upwards of one million Irish immigrants crossed the Atlantic between 1815 and 1845. Increasingly (especially after 1830), these immigrants were Catholics hailing from the south and west of Ireland. They were much poorer and brought fewer skills with them compared with their Ulster counterparts. One of the things making immigration to America in this period easier was the increased trade between Ireland and New York and Liverpool and New York. The growth in trade in the 1820s and 1830s encouraged emigration by lowering the cost of passenger travel. England, however, wanted to populate Canada rather than America with Irish immigrants and thus passed a series of Passenger Acts that made emigration to the latter far more expensive and inconvenient. For example, heavy surcharges increased the price of passage to New York to around 5 pounds versus just 15 shillings for transit to Canada. In addition, ships bound for Canada left from every Irish port, while most bound for America left from Liverpool. Still, limited opportunity in Canada led many an Irish family to book cheap passage to Canada and then walk to Boston. Such a trend accounts for the high percentage of Irish who settled in New England in the pre-Famine era.

AN OLD LADY The old motorbike she was The first woman in those Parts to ride - a noble Norton - disintegrates With rusty iron gates In some abandoned stable; But lives in sepia shades Where an emancipated Country schoolteacher Of nineteen thirty-eight Grins from her frame before Broaching the mountain roads. Forty years later she Shakes slack on the fire To douse it while she goes Into Bushmills to buy Groceries and newspaper And exchange courtesies. Then back to a pot of tea And the early-evening news (Some fresh atrocity); Washes up to the sound Of a chat-show, one phrase Of Bach going round and round In her head as she stares Out at the wintry moon And thinks of her daughters So very far away -- Although the telephone Makes nonsense of that today. Out there beyond the edge Of the golf-course tosses The ghost of the "Girona," Flagship of the Armada -- History. Does the knowledge Alter the world she sees? Or do her thoughts travel By preference among Memories of her naval Husband, thirty years Drowned, the watercolours And instruments unstrung? A tentatively romantic Figure once, she became Merely an old lady like Many another, with Her favourite programme And her sustaining faith. She sits now and watches Incredulously as some mad Whippersnapper howls His love-song and the gulls Snuggle down on the beaches, The rooks in the churchyard. -- Derek Mahon (b. 1941 Belfast)