Some Old St. Patrick's Day Blog Postings

I'm going to repost this blog entry, one that compiles St. Patrick's Day remembrances from many years past:

St. Patrick's Day 2012 in Cleveland, Ohio, was the greatest day ever. The parade, which lasted 2 and a half hours, featured 16,000 marchers and was viewed by 500,000 people lining Superior Avenue from East 18th Street to Public Square. Usually we are are watching the parade in snow or sleet, under gray skies, a half mile inland from the frozen lake. This year the skies were blue and the temperature hit a record 77 degrees. And the parade was on  a Saturday, which allowed more families to attend. The presence of so many families had the side effect of reducing drunkenness and fights. People were very happy, very peaceful all afternoon.

Photos: top shows Bob, Brian, Emily, Linda, Julia, Colin; second shows Brian and Emily; third shows Girl Scouts dressed up as cookie boxes; bottom shows Colleen Fitzpatrick, with other family members in the background, including Mike and Karen Fitzpatrick, Peter Fitzpatrick, and Linda.

March 17, 2013.

This morning Linda and I, along with Julia, Ed, and Colin, attended the St. Patrick's Day mass at St. William's in Euclid (officially now Sts. Robert and William). It was a wonderful mass, a thousand people in attendance, featuring the Irish American Club Fife and Drum Corps along with the Club's women marchers and two bagpipers. Mary Ann Ratchko-Gamez played her extraordinary Irish whistle and flute, and Jack McGarry sang "Our Lady of Knock." I saw many  old friends there and was so happy to be there with part of my family.

We didn't go to the parade this year, but I'm sure it was spectacular as usual. One highlight of every parade is the St. Edwards' High School Trashtalkers, a percussion band unlike any other. I have a short youtube video of it from last year's parade (when it was 79 degrees, versus 29 with 4 inches of snow this year!).


St. Patrick's Day 2011 in Cleveland, Ohio--a glorious, wonderful day. At the big Irish mass celebrated at St. Colman's Church on West 65th Street, Fr, Begin said something like this: "We are grateful that God made the first day of spring St. Patrick's Day this year."

It was a warm, sunny day, temperature in the mid 60's (I've spent many a St. Patrick's Day in snow or sleet at the parade, so this was very unusual!). I, along with my brother Jim and two of his kids, Dillon and Quinn, began the day attending mass at the historic Irish church of St. Colman's--a treasure that was almost lost to Cleveland last year when Bishop Richard Lennon tried to close the church in his efforts to downsize the Diocese of Cleveland.

Fr. Dan Begin was the celebrant, helped out by 16 concelebrants (including Fr. Bob Begin, pastor of St. Colman's). Hundreds of people marched into the church to the accompaniment of fifes and drums--most of them from the West Side Irish-American Club. The music at the mass was glorious, with the sound of pipers, piano, and violin. The song selections were the sentimental favorites of Irish-Catholics: "Our Lady of Knock," "All Praise to Saint Patrick," "Danny Boy," and many others. These might not represent the best music created for and by the Irish, but the congregation loved it. We also sang the amazing hymn, "Faith of Our Fathers," and closed with "America the Beautiful." Right before the recessional, the violinist, who was either Sarah Lally Pap or Mary Beth Ions, played a beautiful tune, which sounded to my ear like a lament--possibly the lament O'Carolan composed as he neared the end of his life. How many people packed the church? There wasn't a seat to be found and hundreds and hundreds stood in the balcony and down all the aisles. It was incredible.

One interesting feature of the mass was the Credo, which was spoken in Irish-Gaelic. What was spoken was actually the Apostles' Creed, Cre na nEaspeal (I'll post the Irish text at another date).


St. Patrick's Day 2010.

We (my brothers Kevin and Jimmy, Jimmy's 3 kids, Dillon, Darby, and Quinn, and my daughter Emily and I) had a wonderful St. Patrick's Day in Cleveland, Ohio. We began the day by attending mass at St. Patrick's Church, on Bridge Avenue in the Ohio City neighborhood of Cleveland. St. Patrick's is one of the historic churches of the Irish community in Cleveland. The parish and church are about 150 years old, and the story goes that parts of the immigrants' ship masts are built into the pillars of the old church (we choose to believe that story). Bishop James Quinn was the celebrant, and the mass featured wonderful music, including a stunning performance by pipers and drummers surrounding the altar as mass ended.

Following mass we processed to the old school building, where the parishioners of St. Patrick's provided hundreds of people with a free breakfast. After breakfast, Kev, Em, and I went to the Harp Restaurant in the Edgewater neighborhood of Cleveland, overlooking Lake Erie (still full of floating ice). There I ran into a former student, a Cleveland diocese seminarian, drinking a Guinness with his 2 buddies (also seminarians!). I run into students everywhere, including places I'm not supposed to be at.

After the Harp, we headed downtown, stopping first in the Arcade, a world-class building . . .



What Does It Mean to Be Irish-American?

We call ourselves "Irish"--what we mean is "Irish-American." We should probably leave the term "Irish" for the citizens of that land. So what does it mean to be "Irish-American" then?

It doesn't mean that you drink green beer tomorrow, St. Patrick's Day. That is for amateurs! OK, if you must . . . .

It doesn't mean you celebrate the culture of drinking and drunkenness. Sure, there is enough of that among Irish-Americans. But when it occurs it is often destructive and doesn't honor or celebrate anything.

It does mean that we have roots in a culture rich in storytelling, poetry, drama. We are connected to a culture rich in music.

We have a culture that celebrates friends and family life. In fact, in many Irish and Irish-American families, family is the highest priority--higher than career, money, fame, success. Good family life is success and wealth!

Many Irish and Irish-Americans have a religious tradition. For most it's Catholicism. But there are Jewish, Church of Ireland, Protestant, Quaker, and other varieties of Irish. To me this tradition is precious, despite my disagreements with the official (or officious) Church. It clearly stems from the era of St. Patrick, St. Brigid, St. Brendan. Ireland was indeed "the land of saints and scholars." Irish Catholicism, in earlier days, borrowed a lot from pagan Celtic spirituality. This made the Irish variety of Catholicism more humane and decentralized than the Church of Rome. Of course there have also been strains of super "orthodox" Catholicism--religion in a straightjacket, religion that hated the body, sexuality, and the like. I saw plenty of this growing up, especially in the religious instruction of the Catholic schools of the 1950s.

I see the spirit of Irish-Americans in my extended family.  They love each other, honor family above all, are funny and fun, great storytellers. We have kept our religious faith. And yes we celebrate and tip a few on March 17, St. Patrick's Day.

I'm proud to be an Irish-American and gladly share St. Patrick's Day with all the English, Germans, Italians, Slovenians, Polish, Slovaks, Bohemians, African-Americans, Latinos--all the wonderful nationalities that interact in Northeast Ohio, our home.

p.s. My grandson, the love of my life, has many of the nationalities mentioned above: He is Irish-German-French-Italian-Czech, and maybe a bit Polish, with a small dash, possibly, of American Indian. I bet there are other nationalities in his genetic mix, too!

Happy St. Patrick's Day 2014!

Lá Fhéile Pádraig Sona Daoibh!

Dot (Breakers Cafeteria cashier) all dressed up!

Robby's First St. Patrick's Day

The First Day of Spring in Cleveland . . .

Is March 17^th, come rain, sleet, or snow

(or more likely, all of the above,

all at the same time).

You can be fooled by the bitter wind whipping

Across the frozen lake

Down the urban canyons of Downtown Cleveland

The tornadic swirl of dust, cigarette butts, road salt

At the corner of East 9^th and Superior . . .

But a block south, on Euclid Avenue, the road stripes are painted Kelly green,

The color of spring, hope, shamrocks.

Tens of thousands of men, women, children

Are celebrating the great Saint’s day.

Marching bands by the dozens,

the usual suspects: St. Ed’s, St. Ignatius, Holy Name,

and some surprises: the exuberant marching of Glenville High School

or Shaw High School, not a pale Irish face to be seen,

swinging their souzaphones like battle axes, look out!

These must be the famous “Black Irish,” and they’re welcomed

With cheers and hoots and clapping.

Pipe and drum corps follow and who would know

In Greater Cleveland that every Irish man, woman, and child

Played the pipes or fifes or drums.

The horses, mounted police, Lake Farm Park horse posse,

Any excuse to ride a horse down Euclid Avenue—

Step carefully over the droppings!

Every Emergency Squad, police car, fire truck, ambulance

In Greater Cleveland, sirens blaring, parade down the street,

Followed by the politicians: Tim McCormick, Jimmy Dimora (Irish?),

The county auditor, treasurer, city councilmen, the mayor,

Politicians white and black.

This would be the time to rob a bank in Cleveland, we joke,

But not the time to get sick or into an accident

Because all the safety forces are right here

On this little stretch of avenue.

Here come the dogs, the glorious Irish wolf hounds,

Majestic, huge, tallest dog on earth

With distant cousins the Irish setters, prancing behind,

Friendly, stunning red-haired beauties,

 not-too-bright, deeply inbred

(sounds like my Irish family!)

Enough drunken kids are around to remind us that this is our broken city,

We tiptoe over broken bottles, vomit, and trash,

Ignore it, look beyond, to the floats and fun.

Lolly-the-Trolly transporting all the oldtimers

From the Eastside Irish American Club.

Followed by marchers with no excuse, no costume,

Except they want to march in their own parade.

At this point my toes are numb, my back aches,

I know it’s time to head for the Fitzpatrick Party at the Marriott,

See all the cousins, their children, and friends.

Have a laugh with them, drink a beer,

Toast our parents, aunts, uncles who have passed,

Shed a tear and a laugh,

Tell stories about Uncle Dick and Don, Jake Reardon,

Uncle Skip and his junk cars driving to work in Collinwood without brakes,

(How we grew up so poor in cash and rich in family!)

Wish blessings until the next funeral or wedding or First Communion

Or the Next St. Patty’s Day Parade.

This poem rambles, is discursive and long as the St. Patty’s Parade,

And who gives a damn because it’s

The first day of  Spring in Cleveland—

Slainte! [March 17, 2004]

                      

An Unfinished Poem from Years Ago: Lent in Euclid, 1958

Today I found an unfinished poem, abandoned by me many years ago. But there are some things in it that I like and I plan to work on it some more. The poem briefly gets into what Lent was like in Euclid (and Eastlake) in the 1950s. Brief trips here to the Harbor Bar in Eastlake and to St. Patrick's Day in Cleveland, as well as St. William's Church in Euclid. By the way, the fish fries around here featured "Blue Pike." That fish is now extinct!

Lent in Euclid, 1958  draft 1(work in progress)

I believed every word the nuns and priests said,

Probably more than old Father Fleming,

Who probably smiled at the theatrics of the rituals.

For me every word pointed straight to Heaven or Hell

And I wouldn't have been surprised if Jesus just appeared

And took me direct to my eternal award—

Or punishment.

In our family, Sunday was not Lent—

Whether that was official doctrine I don’t know—

There were no dietary rules that day,

Except for the Communion Fast.

And Friday was no Day of Atonement.

After the grim ritual of the Stations of the Cross,

My family would head to the Harbor Bar in Eastlake

For a delicious meal of Blue Pike filets, French fries,

And Leisy Light for the adults.

St. Patrick’s Day was not Lent either.

It was a Holy Day of Opportunity,

And we took advantage!

Yes indeed, Lent was a big deal for Catholics back in the 1950s and 1960s (and remains so for many today). There was a regime for fasting and abstinence throughout Lent. On Fridays you could not eat meat. Period. Nobody did! and I vividly remember when Gary Czyzynski broke this rule around 1964 at the McDonald's across from Villa Angela Academy and Euclid Beach. Gary ate a hamburger (15 cents was the price back then) and for that 15 cent hamburger, I thought that Gary was going to burn in hell. Also, adults had to eat small meals and abstain from eating between meals. Children normally gave up something for Lent, like candy. Another thing that we did was attending lots of church services, from the Stations of the Cross, to Benediction services, to the incredible Holy Thursday and Good Friday services. Good Friday was flat-out scary! My recollection is that there was no music, and all statues were covered with purple cloth. I even remember that instead of ringing bells at certain times in the mass, they used wooden clappers (called a crotalus). That's how I remember it; I wish I knew if these memories were accurate. Lent was a big frickin' deal back then!

Clapper ("crotalus") used on Holy Thursday

St. Patrick's Day--A Great Day in Cleveland, Ohio

This morning Linda and I, along with Julia, Ed, and Colin, attended the St. Patrick's Day mass at St. William's in Euclid (officially now Sts. Robert and William). It was a wonderful mass, a thousand people in attendance, featuring the Irish American Club Fife and Drum Corps along with the Club's women marchers and two bagpipers. Mary Ann Ratchko-Gamez played her extraordinary Irish whistle and flute, and Jack McGarry sang "Our Lady of Knock." I saw many  old friends there and was so happy to be there with part of my family.

We didn't go to the parade this year, but I'm sure it was spectacular as usual. One highlight of every parade is the St. Edwards' High School Trashtalkers, a percussion band unlike any other. I have a short youtube video of it from last year's parade (when it was 79 degrees, versus 29 with 4 inches of snow this year!):

St. Patrick's Day 2012 in Cleveland

St. Patrick's Day 2012 in Cleveland, Ohio, was the greatest day ever. The parade, which lasted 2 and a half hours, featured 16,000 marchers and was viewed by 500,000 people lining Superior Avenue from East 18th Street to Public Square. Usually we are are watching the parade in snow or sleet, under gray skies, a half mile inland from the frozen lake. This year the skies were blue and the temperature hit a record 77 degrees. And the parade was on  a Saturday, which allowed more families to attend. The presence of so many families had the side effect of reducing drunkenness and fights. People were very happy, very peaceful all afternoon.

Photos: top shows Bob, Brian, Emily, Linda, Julia, Colin; second shows Brian and Emily; third shows Girl Scouts dressed up as cookie boxes; bottom shows Colleen Fitzpatrick, with other family members in the background, including Mike and Karen Fitzpatrick, Peter Fitzpatrick, and Linda.

The Apostles Creed in Irish-Gaelic

Creidim i nDia, an tAthair Uilechumhachtach,
Cruthaitheoir Nimhe agus Talún,
agus i nÍosa Criost a Aonmhac san ár dTiarna,
do gabhadh ón Spriod Naomh,
do rugadh ó Mhuire ógh,
d'fhulaig páis fé Phointeas Píolóid,
do céasadh ar an gcrois,
fuair bás agus d'adhlacadh,
chuaigh síos go hifreann,
d'aiséirigh an treas lá ó mhairbhe,
chuaigh suas ar neamh,
tá ina shuí ar dheasláimh Dé en tAthair Uilechumhachtach,
as san tiocfaidh ag tabhairt bhreithiúntais ar bheo is ar mhairbh.
Creidim sa Spriod Naomh,
sa naomh-Eaglais Chaitliceach,
i gComaoine na Naomh,
i Maithiúnachas na bPeacaí,
i nAiséirí na Colla,
is sa Bheatha Shíoraí.
Amen.

Above is the Apostles Creed in Irish. We said this prayer at the St. Patrick's Day mass at St. Colman's in Cleveland. The version published in the St. Colman's mass brochure used some older Irish spelling, but the version above looks more standard. Irish spelling is, believe it or not, fairly phonetic and predictable--much more so than English. But the rules are somewhat complicated. I may try to put a rough English pronunciation here soon.