1913 lockout commemorations, columns

I posted an earlier blog about the 1913 Dublin lockout centennial, but here are some new links heading into the commemoration weekend. (Also Labor Day weekend here in the U.S.)

  • President of Ireland, Michael D Higgins, will lead the State commemoration of the 1913 Lockout on Saturday, 31st August – 100 years to the day of Bloody Sunday 1913. Higgins will lay a wreath at the statue of the ITGWU leader James Larkin on O’Connell Street.
  • The Civil Public & Services Union is also supporting numerous events.
  • Here are two stories about the status of Irish unions 100 years after the lockout, one in the Financial Times; the other in The Irish Times. The later publication says,

Unions have been declining in modern Ireland to a significant degree because they have struggled to gain recognition from employers who are increasingly reluctant to work with them. The ways unions have sought to represent members and the ways employers’ have resisted recognition are, of course, dramatically different from 100 years ago. In place of turbulent and sometimes violent opposition, they now face a more silent process of marginalisation.

  • Here is a piece from The Irish Story that considers the lockout as “the first of a series of momentous events to be commemorated in Ireland’s forthcoming decade of centenaries,” but one that “is in many ways an awkward guest at the table of commemoration.” John Dorney writes,

The Lockout was tangential to the developing storm over whether Home Rule for Ireland would be passed in the face of unionist opposition in Ulster. It occurred at the same time but the two had little to do with each other. … However, there is an argument to be made that the Lockout played a role in radicalising some republican activists.

  • Finally, those who haven’t read James Plunkett’s novel Strumpet City, which is set during the lockout period, are urged to pick up a copy, put on the kettle and settle in for a great story.
Civil Public & Services Union poster for the lockout centennial.

Civil Public & Services Union poster for the lockout centennial.

Ireland’s warehouses become houses of worship

Fast-growing religious minorities in Ireland are using warehouses and other industrial buildings as worship space, according to a pair of stories by Colette Colfer in The Irish Times. The first story says,

Warehouses are used by migrant Pentecostal and Muslim groups as well as sometimes by Orthodox Christians and other religious denominations. Renting them is affordable, particularly during the economic downturn, and objections by the public on the basis of planning or parking are rare.

In a bit a contradiction, however, the second story says government officials soon might begin restricting such activity in Fingal, north of Dublin city center, which “has one of the highest population growth rates in the country and recorded the largest increase of non-Irish nationals in the 2011 census.”

The ruins of Doon Church near Ballybunion, County Kerry. My grandfather was baptized here in 1894. At my last visit in 2012 the building was being used to store turf and farm equipment.

The ruins of Doon Church near Ballybunion, County Kerry, where my grandfather was baptized in 1894. At my last visit in 2012 the building was being used to store turf and farm equipment.

While the number of Roman Catholics in Ireland reached a record 3.86 million, the proportion of population practicing the faith dropped to a 130-year low of 84.2 percent, down from the 1961 high of 94.9 percent. As noted in this press release for the 2011 census:

The twenty years between 1991 and 2011 has seen significant increases in the non-Catholic population driven by not only growing numbers with no religion but also large increases in the religions of immigrants from Eastern Europe, Africa and Asia.

The use of warehouses or vacant retail space for religious practice is fairly common in the United States. In reporting about commercial real estate for the Tampa Bay Business Journal, I’ve met several landlords who were happy to get rental income from religious groups, even if they had to offer the space at below market rates.

Eventually, as once established congregations move on or die off, their church buildings come on the market like any other piece of real estate. Here’s a list of 13 church properties for sale in Tampa. The churches are either bought by new congregations, or the buildings are renovated for new uses such as art galleries, restaurants…even a turf shed.

19th-century Irish railways make 21st-century headlines

Two stories about 19th-century Irish railways have appeared in contemporary news headlines.

In Kerry, descendants of Lartigue monorail workers met for a Gathering reunion at Listowel that also marked the 10th anniversary of the related museum and short demonstration line.

“It was a wonderful event,” Lartigue volunteer Martin Griffin told The Kerryman. “We had descendants of 17 of the original workforce and it was great to establish new links with them and we hope now to keep these bonds alive into the future.”

The Lartigue operated between Listowel and Ballybunion from 1888 until 1924, when the newly created Irish Free State refused to consolidate the monorail into the new national railways system. A 1924 letter to the editor of the Freeman’s Journal suggested closing the line would “ruin the prospects of about 30 employees, with about 130 dependents.”

Lartigue monorail workers at the Ballybunion station. National Library of Ireland image.

Lartigue monorail workers at the Ballybunion station. National Library of Ireland image.

In Dublin, the 1877 railway tunnel underneath Phoenix Park has been drawing attention. The National Transport Authority proposed opening the line for passenger trains between Connolly and Heuston stations, but Irish Rail has balked at the plan. The Irish Times offers a video trip through the tunnel as part of its coverage.

The tunnel opened five years before the Phoenix Park murders of Ireland’ land war period of the 1880s, which also was a time of great expansion for localized railways such as the Lartigue and the Tralee and Dingle Light Railway in south Kerry.

Who controls historical commemoration?

The Irish Story, a great website, currently features an opinion piece by Pádraig Óg Ó Ruairc that raises thought-provoking questions about how history is remembered and celebrated. At issue are plans to redevelop a memorial of the 1920 Kilmichael Ambush site in Cork so that it commemorates both sides in this key battle in the Irish War of Independence.

The idea of developing Kilmichael into a heritage site and tourist attraction has been widely welcomed. However the idea that this development will include a formal commemoration of the [Royal Irish Constabulary] Auxiliaries has met with strong opposition. This controversy has arisen at the beginning of the ‘Decade of Centenaries’ and raises important questions about the nature and politics of commemoration and who and what we commemorate.

The piece is worth the read and is beginning to attract an interesting string of comments. This isn’t the first time such issues have been raised in Ireland, and it surely will not be the last.

Kilmichael Ambush Memorial in Cork

Kilmichael Ambush Memorial in Cork

Southie: memories of an Irish-Catholic neighborhood

The 2013 trial of James “Whitey” Bulger stirred memories of South Boston, better known as “Southie,” once a landmark neighborhood of Irish America. I lived there from 1987 to 1990.

The 83-year-old Bulger, former leader of the notorious Winter Hill Gang, was convicted on 31 of 32 counts of murder and racketeering. He ruled Boston’s Irish underworld from the 1970s through the early 1990s from a Southie bar called Triple O’s. He skillfully leveraged his FBI contacts against the city’s Italian Mafia and other criminal gangs.

The other big Irish-American figures in the neighborhood included Whitey’s younger brother, William, president of the Massachusetts state Senate; and Raymond Flynn, the Boston mayor. Then, the city’s busing crisis was finally drawing to a close. Most of the court battles and violence had focused on South Boston High School, a block from my apartment. (See Stephen Burke’s blog/novel The Chieftains of South Boston.)

It was impossible to walk the streets of Southie without hearing stories of the Bulger brothers; Whitey, the gangland criminal who allegedly handed out Thanksgiving turkeys to the poor; and Billie, the intellectual lawmaker who hosted an annual St. Patrick’s Day Breakfast that became a televised, must-attend political roast.

I enjoyed the working-class grittiness of Southie, a stub of peninsula jutting into Boston Harbor. There is a great waterfront park called Castle Island (a variation of the Kerry town) and dark fingers of ship channels and industrial slips. The park was a great place to go for a run. In the winter I exercised at a community center named after former Mayor James Michael Curley, an Irish-American legend.

Aer Lingus flights swooped low over Southie to land at Logan International on the other side of the harbor–East Boston, or “Eastie.” The Irish tricolor was as ubiquitous in Southie as the stars and stripes; the shamrock as common as the stylized “B” font of the Boston Red Sox.

I loved the Irish Catholic feel of Southie, with three parishes within a few square miles: Sts. Peter & Paul; St. Monica/St. Augustine’s; and Gate of Heaven — “Gatey,” as it was affectionately known — where I attended Mass. If you whispered a “Hail Mary” each time you passed a statue of the Blessed Mother in the small front yards and porches of Southie, the prayer would stay on your lips for the length of any walk through the neighborhood. Of course, that was before the 2002 Boston Globe investigation that uncovered widespread clergy sexual abuse of children throughout the Archdiocese of Boston.

St. Patrick's Day parade in South Boston, 2008. Image from Boston.com

St. Patrick’s Day parade in South Boston, 2008. Image from Boston.com

There was a joke in Southie that most of the people who lived there were in the CIA: Catholic, Irish and alcoholic. Booze, drugs, and Whitey Bulger fueled a lot of crime in Southie, especially its public housing projects. A mural painted on the wall of one tenement showed the Notre Dame Fighting Irish mascot with the middle finger extended on one hand, a clenched fist in the other. The Irish republican math equation “26 + 6 = 1” was common graffiti.

Many of the alcoholics and drugs addicts in the neighborhood were striving for sobriety in places such as Answer House and Gavin House, which taught the fundamentals of 12-step recovery. David Foster Wallace immortalized Boston A.A. in his 1996 book, Infinite Jest.

Southie was a place of police sirens and church bells, of shouted rage and hearty laughter. The neighborhood was full of cops, firefighters, longshoremen, teachers, pressmen, iron workers, and commercial fishermen. There were kids on every corner. Many of their moms were not too far from childhood themselves.

Whitey Bulger fled Boston in 1994, about the same time U.S. News and World Report reported Southie had one of the highest concentrations of white poverty in the nation. But young urban professionals, or “yuppies,” had already begun to discover the neighborhood. By the time U.S. Sen. John Kerry of Massachusetts was nominated for president at the 2004 Democratic National Convention in Boston, the transformation was nearly complete. It became a topic of media commentary.

Bulger and his girlfriend were finally captured in 2011. During his trial, the AP observed:

Triple O’s, a hole-in-the-wall bar where Bulger allegedly collected unpaid loans, is now a sushi bar. Across the street is a Starbucks.

Even the City of Boston said this about Southie:

Once a predominantly Irish-Catholic community, in recent years South Boston has become increasingly desirable among young professionals and families who are attracted to the neighborhood’s strong sense of community and quick access to downtown and public transportation.

My wife and I traveled to Boston in March 2013, a few days before the annual St. Patrick’s parade and a month before the Boston Marathon bombing. We stayed at the Seaport Boston Hotel in a section of Southie near downtown. What used to be the hard-scrabbled industrial waterfront was now filled with upscale hotels, condos, restaurants, and shops.

I didn’t get to see too much of my old neighborhood during our short stay. But it didn’t really matter. The Southie I remembered had changed a long time ago; for good, for ill, and forever.

(This piece was revised on Oct. 30, 2018, after the 89-year-old Bulger was murdered in a federal penitentiary. It was modified again on July 14, 2024, when I removed links from the original post. I’ve made several trips to Boston since 2013. I usually make a pass through Southie. MH)

Dublin transit workers on strike, 1913 and 2013

As the centennial of the 1913 Dublin strike and lockout nears at the end of August, the capital city is coping with a contemporary work stoppage by Dublin Bus employees.

Irish News Review quickly noted that history repeats itself:

In the summer of 1913, James Larkin [photo below] called a general strike of the employees of the Dublin Tramway Company. It escalated to this point after William Martin Murphy owner of The Irish Independent, The Evening Herald, and of course the trams, banned workers from joining or being a member of Larkin’s union, the Irish Transport and General Workers Union. History would remember Larkin’s decision to go on strike as an impressive and tactical bit of timing on his part, as it coincided with the opening day of the Dublin Horse Show; one of the busiest days for Dublin’s public transport. This led to an agreement between the majority of large business owners in Dublin locking out their workforce, causing riots, civil unrest, and very poor conditions, and lasted nearly six months.

One hundred years later, three days before the Dublin Horse Show opens, the management of Dublin Bus introduce new cost cutting measures, which – after long debates with representatives from the unions representing the drivers, the inspectors, the cleaners, hospitality staff, the mechanics, and the clerical staff – were not agreed upon by the majority of their workforce.

Here’s a detailed chronology and background of Dublin’s 1913’s labor unrest, including the city’s deplorable tenement conditions, from University College Cork.

Larkin

Contemporary Dublin Bus workers are to vote over the coming week on proposals to settle their dispute, The Irish Times reports.

As I’ve mentioned in previous posts, my grandfather, his brother-in-law and several cousins and friends — all from Kerry — worked as streetcar motormen and conductors in Pittsburgh. They would have participated in numerous strikes against Pittsburgh Railways Co. in the 1910s and 1920s.

Kilkenny picked among world’s friendliest cities

The readers of Conde Nast Traveler have selected Kilkenny city in County Kilkenny as one of the world’s friendliest places. “Charming and full of proud folks who want you to sample their best, Kilkenny is a can’t-miss destination for our readers,” the magazine wrote.

The town of about 25,000 was the only European city in the top 10. (It actually tied with Ubud in Bali, Indonesia). Dublin was named 12th worldwide and Cork city was 20th place. Florianópolis in Brazil won the honor of world’s friendliest.

The Irish Independent reported that “Kilkenny has recently enjoyed a huge increase in its booming tourism industry, and in 2012 welcomed 219,000 international visitors.”

0608-kilkenny

Adams calls for “new Republic” in Ireland

Sinn Féin President Gerry Adams has called for “a new republic” on the island of Ireland. In a recent County Donegal speech he criticized the 1922 partition for creating “two conservative states ruled in their narrow self-interests by two conservative elites.” Adams said:

The northern state was a one party state which reinforced the institutionalised use of discrimination, sectarianism and segregation. …This [southern] state is the product of the counter-revolution that followed the Rising and of a dreadful civil war which tore out the heart at that time of what remained of the generosity of our national spirit. As the idealism of the aborted revolution waned a native conservative elite replaced the old English elite with little real change in the organisation of Irish society and no real movement towards a rights based dispensation. …Religion was hijacked by mean men who used the gospel not to empower but to control, and narrow moral codes were enforced to subvert the instinctive generosity of our people.

For kicks, I did a select word analysis of Adams’ 3,000-word speech. My findings:

Catholic, 2; Protestant, 2; British/English, 6; Ireland, 16;  USA, 2; republic, 26; partition, 7; democracy/democratic, 11; religion, 1; Good Friday, 17; freedom, 1; justice, 3; equality, 17; fairness, 4; people, 14; politicians, 0; vote/s, 6; poll, 4; Sinn Féin, 11; Fianna Fail, 1;  Fine Gael, 4; Labour, 4; unionist/unionism, 12; united Ireland, 2.

The full speech is on the Sinn Féin website. News coverage in Irish Central included four pages of reader comments that cheer and disparage Adams.

Adams2Feb14_Swf

The Foran murder in Kerry, 125 years ago

As July draws to a close I must note the 125th anniversary of the Foran murder in County Kerry.

“Terrible Murder Near Listowel,” the Kerry Sentinel headlined on August 1, 1888. “A Farmer Shot Dead in Broad Daylight.”

Late 19th century view of countryside near Listowel. Knocanore Hill in the background. 

Late 19th century view of countryside near Listowel. Knocanore Hill in the background.

John Foran, about 60, leased a farm in Coolaclarig townland, three miles north of Listowel on the east side of Knocanore Hill. He was ambushed on a Sunday afternoon, shot six times by an assassin who emerged from the woods at the side of the road. The murder was witnessed by his 15-year-old son and three hired laborers who were traveling with Foran in a horse cart on the way home from Tralee.

“The circumstances in connection with it are undoubtedly of a most appalling character and would leave one to fancy we were living in the medieval ages, among a tribe of barbarians, rather than in this nineteenth century, among a civilised [cq] and Christian people,” the Sentinel said. The murder also was reported in other Irish papers, as well as publications in England, Australia and the United States.

Foran had been boycotted by his neighbors for several years after taking over the lease to the Coolaclarig farm from the previous tenant, who was evicted after falling behind in his rent to the absentee English landlord. Foran was a victim of “agrarian outrage,” a euphemism for violence associated with the land struggles of the period. His was the second such murder in north Kerry that year, and both killings would become grist in subsequent Parliamentary elections.

A man was arrested, charged and put on trial for Foran’s murder that fall. The victim’s son gave conflicting testimony about his identification of the accused. The three laborers said the couldn’t identify the shooter. “Too much smoke,” they claimed. The Crown dropped the case in early 1889.

The case became fodder for political pamphlets in the 1891 Parliamentary elections, and continued to be discussed at Westminster over the next 20 years. The evicted tenant was eventually restored to the property, even given a grant to buy cows and other supplies.

Nora Foran Scanlon, one of the victim’s daughters living in Pittsburgh, wrote to British and Irish Free State government officials requesting return of the farm or financial relief as late as 1925. In the letters, she also attempted to use the death of her eldest son in World War I as further justification for some type of compensation. Her pleas were rejected.

The Foran case illustrates a number of social and political realities of the period. My research continues. Anyone with additional information please contact me through the blog.

McCann’s “TransAtlantic” weaves trio of Irish historical events

UPDATE: Waterford erected a plaque honoring Douglass’s 1845 visit.

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I’ve just finished reading Colum McCann’s “TransAtlantic: A Novel.” The book wraps the stories of several generations of women around three historical events that involved crossings of the Atlantic Ocean between North America and Ireland.

The most recent of the three events were the 1990s travels of U.S. Sen George Mitchell to broker peace between nationalists and unionists in Northern Ireland. Such recent history is well known and have been covered previously in this blog.

The other two events are older and perhaps less familiar. One is the first flight across the Atlantic by John Alcott and Arthur Brown. The men left Newfoundland on June 14, 1919, and reached Clifden, in County Galway, the next day.

McCann’s describes the aviators’ first look at Ireland after a 16-hour flight:

The plane crosses the land at a low clip. Down below, a sheep with a magpie sitting on its back. … In the distance, the mountains. The quiltwork of stone walls. Corkscrew roads. Stunted trees. An abandoned castle. A pig farm. A church. … Ireland. A beautiful country. A bit savage on a man all the same.

The third historical event in the novel centers on the 1845 visit of Frederick Douglass, including his meeting with “Liberator” Daniel O’Connell. “The ghost of the Irish nationalist, before and after the Civil War years, often inhabited Douglass’s thinking,” according to this piece by historian Tom Chaffin.

One of the most poignant parts of the novel describes Douglass’ trip to Cork from Dublin as famine began to grip the Irish countryside. McCann writes:

They entered wild country. Broken fences. Ruined castles. Stretches of bogland. Wooded headlands. Turfsmoke rose from cabins, thin and mean. On muddy paths, they glimpsed moving rags. The rags seemed more animated than the bodies within.

Below: Mural of Douglass on the Falls Road in Belfast.

frederick-douglass