Mayo and the Titanic - A Tale Worth Telling

My Brother Paul is the local Doctor (GP) in Lahardane, in the parish of Addergoole, in County Mayo, Ireland. It is a 'sleepy hollow' sort of place, an idyllic little village dominated by Nephin mountain to the west and Lough Conn to the east. Aside from his rural GP practice (yes he still does house calls), he has some pretty diverse interests, including volunteering as the Medic on Croagh Patrick each year for the Reek Sunday climb. He is also an avid cross-country walker, hiking up Nephin mountain or re-tracing the pathways of the ancient cattle-drover trails between Belmullet and Newport. Of course, needless to say, his activities have always provided me with plenty of fodder for my 'Blog from the Bog'


Anyway, for more than twenty years now, Paul has been researching a long-forgotten story about a group of fourteen emigrants from his parish, who went to America in 1912. He first heard of it from a very old patient of his, who before he died, recounted to Paul his personal memories of the people involved. He told Paul an astonishing tale of a group of brave young emigrants from Addergoole who just happened to sail to America on the Titanic! Go Figure, what were the odds on that? Only three of the fourteen from Addergoole survived Titanic's sinking and for nearly a hundred years only those families directly involved had any memory of this calamitous event. For the rest of the community, it was just too painful, too tragic and they stoically put it behind them as they struggled to move on with their lives.

Now Paul and a group of like-minded individuals from Mayo hope to commemorate the story of these tragic emigrants and build a fitting memorial to them, in time for the centenary of the Titanic's sinking, in 2012.

I helped them to create a web site http://www.addergoole-titanic.com to tell this extraordinary story and to provide some background for anyone interested in the history of emigration from Mayo and Ireland. Researching their story transported me to a different Ireland, an Ireland ravaged by famine, poverty, rebellion, politics, land-agitation and persecution, but under-pinned by people whose courage, faith, pride, hope and ambition never deserted them despite the hardships they endured.

Working on this project helped me realise how much Ireland has changed, how really fortunate we are to lead such un-troubled lives nowadays and how much we now take for granted.

I hope you find a moment to look through the web site and read about these fourteen ambitious young people and their eventual sad fate. If you do enjoy a good story and have an empathy to their tale, please pass it on to others who may enjoy it too.

So! Are you up for a challenge?
How many people from Mayo do you know? How many people do you know with at least 1 Mayo Connection? (Parent, Grand-parent, Cousin, Friend, An 'in-law', whatever?) How many of them would be interested to hear about a true tale of Hope, Heart and Heart-break?

A story so moving, everyone who ever left Mayo for a better life abroad should cherish and tell their children and grand-children! Can we put Addergoole and this astonishing Titanic Tale on the map? Can we get a few thousand hits on http://www.addergoole-titanic.com this week? Please tell your Mayo Connections to visit the web site or to visit their Facebook Page. http://www.facebook.com/group.php?gid=93489723478 or both!

You could even join their mailing list and come along and ring the bells in Lahardane on the anniversary each April 15, at 2.20am!

Now that's another story well worth telling!

St Patrick climbed a mountain and so did we

Hello hello hello!?!
Such a funny word to shout from a mountain-top, and listen for the echo. There was no need for any such exclamations last week when my son David (9) and I climbed Croagh Patrick, Ireland's holy mountain, for the hillside was alive with talk and prayers and all kinds of accents and languages. Yes some hardy pilgrims even climbed it barefoot!
I was in the pub Saturday night talking to a new friend Peter, when he mentioned he was 'Doing the Reek' in the morning and how he used to start at Murrisk, but now prefers to take the slightly shorter and less travelled route from the back of the mountain, the eastern slope as it were. He said he would travel by Leenane in the morning on the way over, turn off at Delphi and make his way from there. I reckoned I'd still be asleep long after he had summited.
No such joy. Wide awake by 7am, I hit off to Galway and collected David from a sleepover at Granny's and then hit off. The ancient route of the Tochar Way pilgrimage was from Ballintubber, through Partry, on to Aughagower and on up the mountain. Patrick stayed 40 days and nights and was assailed by all sorts of temptations and dark thoughts. No way were we going that way, so we drove the ancient route, passing walking pilgrims on the way in glorious July sunshine and showers (the traditional 'mixed bag' of weather, the four seasons in one, rather like the characters in 'stones in your pockets'.
At Aughagower the village was asleep...it was only 10 am after all. Already the picnic table under the ruined round tower was occupied by a savvy French family, munching their dejeuner, al fresco. I was really taken again by this tranquil spot, with its four graveyards, separated by three tiny pubs. Nice of them to offer spiritual sustenance. The carved face on the lancet in the ruined church gazed warily at our pilgrims garb, no doubt he's seen it all before. The view up through the ruined round tower looked so like a well, but inverted. I am sure there was magic there had we but waited a while.
We left Aughagower on a winding back road and after almost pranging twice with too-fast escaping locals, we arrived at the base station at the back of the mountain, from where all the medical and mountain rescue folks on the hill on the day are marshalled. The Irish Airforce's latest helicopter was ferrying a few unfortunates off the mountain when we arrived. It's one impressive machine, and visible proof of our tax euros at work.
The climb was euphoric...whew, we made it. I was so out of breath initially, but soon got a rythm going. We made the climb, and 30,000 others also did it that day. Most had fine weather but the later pilgrims had low cloud to contend with...and I mean low, literally half the hill was covered in grey clouds...dangerous and takes from the views...and the views are what makes the climb up the Reek so special.
Met Dr. Paul Nolan at the half way stage, at the medical post were he does his thing with his team as medics on the mountain each year. I could tell he was enjoying every minute of it, his A&E on the Reek....sort of an Irish version of MASH. The volunteers from the IMR to the Order of Malta all were superb.
David was a mighty man a regular little Sherpa, no shirt, dashing over the loose shale and rocks like a Kerry goat! He had a blast, what a joi de vivre. He was all for swimming at Glassilaun beach afterwards, but the day eventually took its toll and he fell asleep as we drove home to Barna and Paddy's Cross via the stunning lake and mountain scenery around Doolough and Delphi. Has to be seen to be believed. Ireland still has the capacity to surprise, enthrall and inspire...yes, it was a drive through heaven, having almost expired and gone to hell and back on the mountain climb!
Driving through Leenane, stopped off at Hamiltons and Gaynors for a pint and a choc-ice. Thought fond thoughts of Joe Gaynor and the old Blarney days, all gone now, with O'Leary in the grave. Pretty soon we were back in Galway, and sipping pints where we left them the night before in the Twelve. Another day in Ireland with nothing to do!