Moved by movement - Irish Rep’s ‘Noctu’ is mesmerizing - VIDEO

Remember the Challenger in these challenging times

Ireland: Real and Imagined

No Blessings for St. Patrick's Old Cathedral School

From the Irish Famine to the Irish on Wall Street

As the editor of Irish America magazine, it was an interesting experience, to say the least, following up our issue commemorating the Great Hunger with one in which we profile Irish-American titans of Wall Street.

In a way, those two words “Famine” & “Finance” could be seen as the bookends of the story of the Irish in America.

World Cup Versus World History

The World Cup: Why I can't root for England

The Irish Census: Finding my family online

It’s a strange thing to sit at my desk in New York City to look out the window and see Sixth Avenue stretched out far below and in the distance the Huston River, and turn and look at my computer screen and see the signature of my great grandfather Patrick Harty on the 1901 census form.

(Most of the records were burned in a fire in the Four Courts during the Civil War. But the two saved census records, 1901 and 1911, are now online.)

Patrick is 73 in 1901 and his wife Mary is 68. Their son William, who would become my grandfather, is 35 and still living at home with his brothers John and James and his sister Johanna. English is listed as their spoken language. They can all read and write. Roman Cathilik [sp] is listed as their religion. I don’t know if the misspelling of "Cathilik" is my great grandfather’s or the census taker, Constable William James Hughes.

West Virginia Miners – Let Them Not Have Died in Vain

Teaching the Irish (and Others) to Love Irish Food – It's Complicated

St. Patrick's Days of yore

My first St. Patrick’s Day in New York, I was fired. Or rather, the day after my first St. Patrick’s Day in New York, I was fired.

I was fired from my waitress job because I didn’t show up for work on St. Patrick’s Day. But in all fairness to myself, it was an unjust firing. I had asked, and been granted, the day off but at the last minute my manager, the cigar-chomping Mr. C, reneged and said I had to work.

He liked to play favorites and “Jackie” was getting the day off instead of me. The fact that Jackie was sitting on his knee as he told me this, and the fact that she had only just joined the staff, didn’t sit well with me.

Patricia Harty: A new dream for Northern Ireland

When I was young I used to dream about gunmen coming to our house.

I would hear them downstairs confronting my mother. I would want to go to her but I would be afraid. I would wake up with my heart pounding.

I was traumatized by Irish history. I remember not wanting to turn the page in my history book. Every planned insurrection would start out hopeful enough, but turn the page and there was a traitor or leaked information – the British would put down the Rebellion in the most horrific manner. (I always connected Cromwell’s sack of Drogheda with the murder of the Holy Innocents that we learned about in Catechism class.)

Crime, punishment, and Irish blessings

My first St. Patrick's Day card of the season arrived early:

How I met your mother

After 25 years as editor of Irish America magazine, I have a green tinge to my brain, or perhaps I should say, I see the world through green-tinged glasses.

This quirk -- of which all my friends are aware of and indulge me -- comes into its own whenever there's show on television.

For instance, watching The People's Choice Awards a couple of weeks ago, I bolted out of my chair as Alyson Hannigan took to the stage to receive her award. I had to rush to Wikipedia to find out if she was Irish.

The Irish Famine, Haiti, the ghosts in our genes

The past is never dead. It’s not even past,” the writer William Faulkner said.

I was peeling potatoes for dinner when blindly reaching into the plastic bag my fingers felt something soft, and then the smell hit me. I upended the bag and there was the rotten potato. No big deal really, in the scheme of things, but as I looked at the offending lumper, already infecting the other potatoes around it, I was filled with a kind of despair far beyond what the situation warranted.

I’ve always felt that there is such a thing as historic memory, that we can be affected by things unknown to us but that were experienced by someone of an earlier generation, so perhaps I was experiencing something of what my great-grandmother who lived through the Famine must have felt that summer of 1845 when the blight was first discovered.

The Mummers Parade and Other Irish Traditions

Rise and Shine

An Irish Christmas in the Bronx

It’s Christmas Eve and the Brew and Burger on 47^th Street where I work is crowded with last-minute shoppers and tired children bought in from the boroughs and New Jersey to see the tree at Rockefeller Center by irritated parents and young nannies with short skirts who look at their watches anxiously.

Being Irish

Labor Day -- an "Irish" Holiday

Posted by Patricia Harty at 9/8/2009 5:42 PM EDT

Labor Day is kind of like Christmas -- people have forgotten the meaning of it. They just want the presents, the birth of Christ gets lost somewhere in the wrappings.

The significance of Labor Day gets lost too -- in the sandwiches at the beach on the last day of summer. But as you throw another hot dog on the Barbie, spare a thought for McGuire, Maguire, Jones, Quill and Sweeney –- to name just a few of the many great Irish labor leaders.

Teddy

Posted by PatriciaHarty at 8/28/2009 6:37 PM EDT

A sailboat moves slowly down the river its canvas furled.

It's out there all on its own in the quiet of the early morning.

Old Wounds

Posted by PatriciaHarty at 6/5/2009 3:27 PM EDT

She held the two-year-old baby girl in her arms. The child was so light she was afraid that she would crush her or move in such a way as to press against her sores.

She had never been this close to starvation before.

Courting Kathleen

Posted by Patricia Harty at 5/15/2009 4:13 PM EDT

Could an Irish-American Stanford University law professor be the next Supreme Court Justice?

When Kathleen Sullivan, Stanford University law professor, and former dean, was asked in a 2000 interview with Elgie Gillespie for Irish America magazine, about the possibility of following in Sandra Day O'Connor and William Brennan's footsteps, she said:

Mine That Bird's Famous Irish Ancestor

Posted by Patricia Harty at 5/4/2009 4:08 PM EDT

Kentucky Derby winner Mine That Bird has a famous Irish ancestor or two. He also has an Irish Disney connection, which means that when the movie is made – and you know there's going to be a movie – perhaps we will see it on the Disney Channel. Here’s the story:

Going on the theory that every good horse has Irish bloodlines, I did a little investigation okay, a lot of “mining” into Mine That Bird's, and sure enough found that “the Bird” is not just any little horse, but is the descendant of a famous Irish ancestor called Birdcatcher.

The Far-Flung Irish

Posted by PatriciaHarty at 3/25/2009 1:22 PM EDT

When I was young, a visit by two Frenchmen caused great excitement in our house.

They were distant cousins – descendants of Oliver Harty who was born in Knockainey, Knocklong, County Limerick in 1746 and left for France as a lad of sixteen.

Today and Yesterday

Posted by PatriciaHarty at 3/20/2009 4:40 PM EDT

Lingering signs of St. Patrick's Day -- a tapestry of John F. Kennedy in an Arabic carpet store window; a display of nylon scarves festooned with shamrocks in a wholesale shop; a bedraggled young man with green T-shirt who doesn't look like he made it home.

It's Tuesday morning, March 18, but let me take you back to March 15, Sunday afternoon.

The comfort of tradition & ritual

Posted by PatriciaHarty at 3/19/2009 3:21 PM EDT

“The robins came - that's a sign of luck,” my cousin whispers in my ear as the men start to shovel the clay.

Sure enough, I look up and see a pair of robins swoop down over the heads of those gathered and then fly off together.