Speaking of my Irish heritage.
There are some things about the Irish I bet you didn't know. I am part Irish and spoke some Gallic when I was a child. My Irish side of the family is on my mother's side. I learned Gallic like I learned the Dutch/German side like most kids learn to spell. T I M E F O R B E D.
I learned we were a hearty bunch; fun loving, hard working, loved our families dearly, were definite scrappers, and boy could my family hold a grudge! They had known much hardship, but wound up on top. Some of the family were and still are very wealthy, and never the twain shall meet on equal ground. The class system was rampant among the Irish in my family as it was in many other families of that time I'm sure. I was forever being reminded that we came from white lace Irish, not shanty.
I was taught how to make Irish lace when I was just small. I learned to crochet, tat, and do all sorts of needlework, from sewing clothing, to making rugs and tapestries. I was even taught how to make fish net. Because my mother learned these things from her mother, sitting at her knees, I was taught the same way. Mind you, I didn't want to learn these things; I was reminded it was what girls learned and that I was the oldest and should set a good example for my sisters.
I didn't care about that stuff, I was a tomboy and just wanted to go play with the rest of the kids in the neighborhood (who just happened to be all boys) chasing after the ice wagon. All the kids would run along behind grabbing pieces of ice that were left from when the ice man chipped blocks for the ladies of the neighborhood, for their individual ice boxes.
I didn't care about that stuff, I was a tomboy and just wanted to go play with the rest of the kids in the neighborhood (who just happened to be all boys) chasing after the ice wagon. All the kids would run along behind grabbing pieces of ice that were left from when the ice man chipped blocks for the ladies of the neighborhood, for their individual ice boxes.
It was a time when refrigerators hadn't quite replaced the old oak, metal lined ice boxes. We were rich I guess; because we had one of each. Gramma had a brand new refrigerator that stood proudly in the upstairs kitchen, but it never had the same comfy charm as the old ice box in the summer kitchen. We had an ice box in the basement; better known in our family as the summer kitchen. It was a place the Wise clan gathered in the summer to make ice cream and party, which most family gatherings turned into a party of some sort. Even to do the canning, and clean the fish and turtles my Uncle Tom would bring in from his trips to Canada wound up a party at the Wise's.
I didn't know or even care if we were poor, it was never talked about. But I know my Granpap bought a whole city block and built homes for each of his boys so the whole Wise clan could be on the same block. My grandmother's son from her first marriage was included in that deal. There were four brothers and two sisters in the Wise/Bihanna marriage, and three of the brothers got homes on the same block. Uncle George didn't want to have his home there so Granpap paid for the house to be build in another part of Canton, OH; everyone else (the Wise girls) was to fend for themselves. But, of coarse I never heard about this until my Mom and Dad moved us to Carrollton; another town 50 miles away.
One of the brothers, Uncle Thomas, was Ohio state feather-weight champion prize fighter for a while. Uncle Jimmy, worked for the Parks and Recreation Department. And Uncle Robert, was a heavy equipment operator for Timken Steel. Their father, Thomas, Grandad, Wise was the head stillman for the Timken Steel company. He used a shovel to make the mixture in the furnaces that would become molten steel. Those were the family members that lived on the same block I called my part time home until I was old enough to go to first grade. My other part time home was on the farm of my Uncle Sparky and Aunt Ann (Wise) Little; Helen (Wise), my Mother's, half-sister.
I won't go into the stories of how we go back to Sir Francis Drake and our family Coat of Arms; or how we come from royalty and all; that's for another day. Besides Sir Francis Drake was nothing but a pirate for the Queen of England and the Irish and English have been at it for years. I guess I'll have to tell the other side on some fall day like on German Octoberfest or on some day when Holland or the Pennsylvania Dutch celebrate some Holiday. Then again I'll have to pick another day to tell of the Trail of Tears for my Native American side and another for the swash and buckle of Black Beard and cut throats and rogues side of the family. Until those days I'll just leave you with a few Irish proverbs I got from a great site on the web. Enjoy the link and the web site; you'll get an eye opener for sure if you take the time to read through it. I did.
I didn't know or even care if we were poor, it was never talked about. But I know my Granpap bought a whole city block and built homes for each of his boys so the whole Wise clan could be on the same block. My grandmother's son from her first marriage was included in that deal. There were four brothers and two sisters in the Wise/Bihanna marriage, and three of the brothers got homes on the same block. Uncle George didn't want to have his home there so Granpap paid for the house to be build in another part of Canton, OH; everyone else (the Wise girls) was to fend for themselves. But, of coarse I never heard about this until my Mom and Dad moved us to Carrollton; another town 50 miles away.
One of the brothers, Uncle Thomas, was Ohio state feather-weight champion prize fighter for a while. Uncle Jimmy, worked for the Parks and Recreation Department. And Uncle Robert, was a heavy equipment operator for Timken Steel. Their father, Thomas, Grandad, Wise was the head stillman for the Timken Steel company. He used a shovel to make the mixture in the furnaces that would become molten steel. Those were the family members that lived on the same block I called my part time home until I was old enough to go to first grade. My other part time home was on the farm of my Uncle Sparky and Aunt Ann (Wise) Little; Helen (Wise), my Mother's, half-sister.
I won't go into the stories of how we go back to Sir Francis Drake and our family Coat of Arms; or how we come from royalty and all; that's for another day. Besides Sir Francis Drake was nothing but a pirate for the Queen of England and the Irish and English have been at it for years. I guess I'll have to tell the other side on some fall day like on German Octoberfest or on some day when Holland or the Pennsylvania Dutch celebrate some Holiday. Then again I'll have to pick another day to tell of the Trail of Tears for my Native American side and another for the swash and buckle of Black Beard and cut throats and rogues side of the family. Until those days I'll just leave you with a few Irish proverbs I got from a great site on the web. Enjoy the link and the web site; you'll get an eye opener for sure if you take the time to read through it. I did.
proverbs
posted by Jan myrz @ 7:05 PM
1 Comments:
i love Irish stories, my mom's name was Quinn, 2nd generation American.
one of the roughest toughest rodeo cowboys i ever knew used to focus before bull or bronc riding, sitting behind the chutes tatting beautiful irish lace... not too many people made fun of him more than once.. lol.
hi jan!
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