Dear Hearts,
November 19th is the 145th anniversary of the birth of our great grandmother, great-great-grandmother, and great-great-great grandmother, Katherine Honore Moloney Sheehan, known as Nanny. She was born in Lisluinaghan, Kilkee, County Clare in 1876, and died in Chicago on February 24th, 1948 at the age of 71.
It is Nanny who gave us the phrase, "God bless us and save us and keep us from harm." And I'm sure our collective obsession with table linens, curtains and porcelain china come through Boom, Helen and Mary Claire from Nanny.
Happy birthday to our dear great-grandmother, Katherine Honore Moloney Sheehan, our Nanny. Please watch over us until we meet again.
God bless us and save us and keep us from harm.
Love,
Patty
From Jim, because his research and memories are too rich:
The mitochondrial DNA we know about goes from Mary Murray Fitzgerald to Mary Fitzgerald Moloney to Catherine Moloney Sheehan to Marie Frances Sheehan Wiley to Mary Clare Wiley Sullivan to Mary Frances Sullivan Merwin to Catherine Honore Merwin Hareid to Ava Noelle Hareid. Nine generations! All the sons get it, but can not pass it on, because it is in the egg.
Nanny was born to Mary Fitzgerald Moloney and James William Moloney, on the Moloney farm in County Clare, in the townland of Lisluinaghan, outside the town of Kilkee, on the west coast of Ireland.The Catholic parish is St. Sennen's, the administrative parish is Kilfearagh. In the old days, the barony was Moyarta, and the Poor Law Union was Kilrush.
This land is known as the Corca Baiscinn Peninsula, it is of ancient Spanish heritage, the most westerly part of Ireland. It is dramatically haunted by many spirits, including the Cailin Baen (Colleen Bawn, the Fair-skinned Girl) who was drowned right off the coast. The beach at Kilkee is one of the most popular resort beaches in Europe, with its sheltered cove and its diving pools, the famed "pollock holes."
She was born on a little, 10 acre farm, filled now with only Alfie Marinan's cows, a tumbled down, or "knocked" milking shed made of flat fieldstones, and an ancient "lios" (lish), meaning a ring of compacted earth, fieldstone, bramble and wind-blown seeded heather, where the people would shelter the herd in a storm, or withdraw to in defense against the Viking raids.
I crawled in there--it's about as big as 1/2 a basketball court, completely overgrown, dark and mysterious. The stories go that there is stuff in there from thousands of years ago- artifacts, bones, and the like. It was scary and I only got so far in and had to back my way out. Too many thorns and sticks. Plus, I think there were some monsters and banshees in there, too. Not to mention oan seacs and ahmidans. When I was there, all five times, I kissed the ground and ate a bit of the grass, a bit of the mud, on behalf of all of us. I walked into the midst of the herd and loved the cows for a moment. I peed in a far corner of the field, leaving a bit of my DNA there. I hid an American penny between two of the flat stones of the fence.
Her brother, Maurice, lived there, tending the cows, until the '70's. He was in his nineties. He was an honored military veteran of the Old IRA. He is buried on top of his brother, James, Jimineen, said to have the finest golf swing in Clare. The guy who opened the grave and tossed Maurice in is Nicholas Fitzpatrick, Maurice's neighbor, who had a cup of tea each evening with Maurice in his kitchen. I met him and he told me I looked exactly like Maurice and he thought I was the ghost of Maurice come back. He said, "You are the dead spit of Maurice Moloney!!"
Nanny loved Maurice and spoke often of him.
She left Clare as a very young woman to come here. There is another family story that happened about 25 years ago on Mt. Baldy.
Mary Claire and Margy and Lizzy (that's grandmother, mother and daughter of the same mitochondrial DNA) got run off the road by a drunk and tumbled over the edge and landed below, car upright but banged up. Granny had broken ribs and bruises, Margy was knocked around, and Lizzy was on the back seat, not breathing, unbeknownst to her mother and grandmother, who were a bit shocky.
An elderly Irish woman with her hair in a bun and a thick Irish brogue touched Margy on the shoulder and said, "Look to the baby."
Margy immediately checked Lizzy, found her not breathing and pressed on her chest and revived her, and Lizzy was ok. Margy turned around to thank the woman, who had gone away. Margy asked, "Anyone see that Irish woman who was just here?" Everyone said, "What Irish woman?"
Margy said she knew who it was.
Kate embodied the Irish-American experience of "cruel exile, transportation," and the sadness and longing for her mother and her family and her Ireland, that she never saw again. She made the best of it, with her beautiful face and her perfect diction and grammar. She was very small and petite, but would not be bullied. And she was a devout believer in her Catholic faith, devoted to Christ and His Blessed Mother.
She took Boom Boom aside and told her, "Stay away from those Irish boys. Look at those Polish Wilkosczewski boys, with their shiny shoes and combed hair. One of them for you." And of course, Boom Boom did as her mother suggested and there was started the famous team of Boom and Boompa, Irv Wiley. Largely thanks to Nanny.
Her last years were marred by a stroke, but she did her best, like she always did, and set the example. She was the best possible kind of mother, to all of us.
She sang "Shule Aroon" to Boom Boom who sang it to us. Nanny was beloved by all who knew her.
