There were many Irish women among the settlers of the American West, and one of the best known in her time was a lady from County Cork named Ellen Cashman. Ellen came to America, like so many others, fleeing the effects of the Great Hunger.  She arrived in Boston in 1850 with her mother, Fanny, at the tender age of five where she grew up caring for a younger sister.  An ambitious young lady, she worked as a bellhop in a well-known Boston hotel when she decided to follow the call of the American West with the idea of making her fortune.  She moved to San Francisco and soon found employment as a cook at various mining camps.  By 1872, she’d saved enough money to open a miner’s boarding house in Nevada.  In this male-dominated arena, she relied on her courage, faith and a formidable pride in her Irish roots to survive.  It wasn’t long before she was headed for a gold-strike in British Columbia along with 200 Nevada miners.  Described as Pretty as a Victorian cameo and, when necessary, tougher than two-penny nails, the extraordinary Nellie Cashman wandered frontier mining camps of the 1800s seeking gold, silver and a way to help others.

  A devout Catholic, she set up a boarding house for miners, asking for donations to the Sisters of St. Anne in British Columbia in return for the services available at her boarding house.  On a trip to Victoria to deliver $500.00 to the nuns, she heard of 26 miners trapped by a snowstorm in the Cassiar mountains who were suffering from scurvy.  Nellie immediately organized an expedition with six men and collected food and medicines and set off to rescue them.  Conditions in the Mountains were so dangerous at the time that the Canadian Army considered it a foolish venture and sent troops to bring her back.  They found her on the ice of the Stikine River, cooking her evening meal.  She offered the troopers some tea and convinced them that she would not head back without rescuing the men.  After 77 days of trekking through stormy weather, she and her team, pulling 150,000 pounds of food often through 10 feet of snow, found the sick men, but instead of the 26 reported, there were 75.  She nursed them all back to health with a vitamin C diet and endeared herself to the entire mining community earning the first of her many titles, Angel of the Cassiar.  However, when the gold strike petered out, she bid farewell and headed south for the big silver strike in Tucson, Arizona.

  Nellie arrived in Tucson on October 10, 1878.  It was a growing town where Nellie hoped to prosper and she bought, worked and sold mining claims, boarding houses, restaurants and mercantile shops, each one adding to her climb up the ladder to financial security.  In June 1879, just after opening Delmonico’s restaurant and advertising ‘the best meals in town,’ a silver strike in Tombstone turned her head.  Here was a town growing faster than Tucson.  Retaining ownership in the Delmonico, Nellie headed for Tombstone.  There, she opened a shoe store, then a general store and, a year, later she was back in the food business with Tombstone’s Russ House Restaurant.  Among her customers were her fellow Irish-American citizens like the McLowery gang, the Clantons, and the Earps.  Local legend notes that a client once complained about Nellie’s cooking and Doc Holiday, sitting nearby, drew his pistol and asked the man what he’d said.  Looking down the barrel of Doc’s gun, the man said, Best food I ever et.

  Nellie decided that since Tombstone was known as the most lawless town in the west, it needed a dose of religion.  She befriended John Clum, editor of the Tombstone Epitaph and he helped her champion the construction of a Catholic Church and Hospital.  In the meantime, she persuaded the owners of the Crystal Palace Saloon to allow Mass to be held there every Sunday.  During the week, she walked the dusty streets of Tombstone soliciting donations from gamblers, miners, prostitutes, badmen, lawmen and average citizens.  She added her own sizeable contribution and on November 28, 1880, a Catholic Mass was first held at the new Sacred Heart Church; construction of a hospital soon followed.  Nellie’s organizing ability wasn’t limited to Church and Hospital either.  Noting that almost 600 of Tombstone’s residents were native Irish, Nellie organized that town’s first St. Patrick’s Day celebration.  It was a grand Ball held on March 17, 1881. 

  Nellie is remembered today by historians as the Angel of Tombstone, Angel of the Cassair, and Saint of the Sourdoughs, but her contributions were far from over.  Having brought civility to ‘The town too mean to die,’ Nellie moved on to Bisbee, Arizona where she leased the Bisbee Hotel and prospected a while.  She followed the lure of precious metal to towns in Wyoming, Montana, and New Mexico.  Wherever she went, her fame preceded her, and everywhere she went she provided financial assistance to Catholic Churches and hospitals.

  In 1898, she pulled up stakes again and headed back to British Columbia, Alaska, and the Yukon.  St.  Joseph’s hospital in Victoria, British Columbia; St Mary’s hospital in Dawson, Alaska and St Matthews’s hospital in Fairbanks, Alaska, all owe their existence in part to Nellie Cashman’s fundraising activities.  Beside her philanthropic fame, she was an astute businesswoman and a fair miner.  There are even stories of her competing in an arctic dog-sled race while in her late sixties.  Her last stop was Victoria, British Columbia, where, on January 25, 1925, she died of pneumonia.  She lies in a plot with the Sisters of St Ann, overlooking Ross Bay.  When asked by a reporter why she never married she said: Why child, I haven’t had time.  Men are a nuisance anyhow, now aren’t they?  They’re just boys grown up.

  Today, the Sacred Heart Church, built in 1880, still stands at the corner of Fifth and Safford Streets in Tombstone Arizona and the Nellie Cashman Restaurant stands nearby behind the adobe walls of her original Russ House.   When Nellie passed, she was buried by the Sisters of St. Ann in British Columbian in gratitude for her kindness.  The epithet on her headstone reads “Friend of the sick and the hungry, and to all men. Heroic apostolate of service among the western and northern frontier miners”.  

A remarkable woman, she is just one more of the many links between Ireland and the American west of which we are so proud.  On March 15, 2006, Nellie Cashman was inducted into the Alaska Mining Hall of Fame.

Mike McCormack, National Historian

THIS IRISH AMERICAN HERITAGE MONTH PROFILE IS PRESENTED BY THE ANCIENT ORDER OF HIBERNIANS (AOH.COM)

#IrishAmericanHeritageMonth

At the 11^th hour of the 11^th day of the 11^th month of 1918, for the first time in over four years, the guns fell silent across the trenches that scarred the face of Europe during the First World War. America had been latecomers to the conflict but at a tremendous cost had tipped the scales in what had been a murderous stalemate. No division had sacrificed more than the 42nd Division, nicknamed the “Rainbow Division,” as it had been formed from National Guard Units whose origins stretched across the country. No unit in the Rainbow Division fought on more fronts, nor suffered more casualties, than the regiment that represented the green in that rainbow: the 165^th, the federal number assigned to the 69^th New York. It was the same New York 69^th that fifty years earlier, as a unit of the Irish Brigade, had been given the nickname of “the fighting 69th” as a tribute of respect by an enemy commander, Robert E. Lee. While the regimental number had changed, the unit and the New York Irish would once again prove worthy of that title, and no one was more responsible for the regiments unequaled record in WW I than Col. William “Wild Bill” Donovan.

Even before the war, William Joseph Donovan was a hero of Horatio Alger proportions. The grandson of immigrants from Skibbereen, Co Cork, he had literally been born on the wrong side of the tracks in Buffalo, New York. Yet, as typical of Irish immigrants, each generation was climbing the American dream’s long ladder. While Donovan’s grandfather had worked shoveling grain in the holds of ships, his father had risen to the influential position of yardmaster for the local railroad. Young William Donovan continued the trend, attending Columbia University, where he would earn a law degree. Donovan was a star quarterback of the Columbia football team in an age where amateur athletes were treated like today’s professional superstars.  It was here he earned the nickname “Wild Bill Donovan.” He returned to Buffalo, started a law practice, and married the daughter of the wealthiest man in Buffalo.

Yet, Donovan was not a man to rest on his success; his strong sense of duty and patriotism called him to seek an opportunity to serve his country. With several friends, Donovan formed a National Guard company of cavalry that served when the Army was mobilized to hunt for Pancho Villa. When the United States entered World War I, Donovan was called back to service and assigned as a Major to the 165^th regiment, the number given to the rechristened N.Y. 69^th which had won glory in the American Civil War as part of the “Irish Brigade”. He was a popular choice with the mostly Irish American regiment, particularly their Chaplin, Fr. Francis Duffy , who himself would win fame and honor with the regiment. Donovan applied the same tough discipline to his men’s training as he had experienced himself as an athlete on the playing field of Columbia, training his men would come to appreciate on the battlefields of France.

In France, at the river Ourcq, nicknamed by the Irish of the 165^th “the O’Rourke,” the 42^nd Division was ordered to cross the river and secure a ridge and farm on the other side. The position was believed to be “lightly held” when in fact they were being faced by three German Divisions, including one of elite Prussian Guards. Only Donovan’s 165^th managed to reach its objective, the units on the left and right having been pushed back. The result was the 165^th was cut off and subjected to machine gun and artillery fire on three sides. It was estimated that the Germans had one machine gun for four of Donovan’s men. Donovan and his men held their position for three days until the rest of the Division could reinforce the 165th but at a terrible cost: of the 3,000 men who entered the battle, 1,750 men and 66 officers were lost. Donovan himself was exposed to poison gas and wounded, yet still continued to lead his men. In one case, Donovan, without regard to danger, crossed open ground under heavy enemy fire to communicate coordinates for support artillery. For this action, Donovan was awarded the Distinguished Service Cross and promoted Lt. Colonel.

Tragically, these circumstances repeated themselves only a few months later when the 165^th was again asked to breach a line of German fortifications. Again, the 165th was going up against some of Germany’s best troops, not with the battle-hardened men they had lost at the Ourcq, but young and inexperienced replacements. Describing it as “foolish but necessary” to his wife in a letter written before the battle, Donovan put on his full regulation uniform and insignia. He knew that he would be a target for German snipers by so obviously identifying himself as a senior officer, but he also knew that his raw men needed to see him out in front. During the German attack, Donovan was severely wounded but continued to encourage his men and refused all attempts to evacuate him till the battle was over. For his actions, Donovan was awarded the Medal of Honor and became the most decorated soldier of WW I.

“They’re not going to see your faces, but they will never forget what you looked like.”

William Donovan

On arriving back in New York, Donovan and his men were honored with a parade down 5^th Avenue and, appropriate for the men of the 69^th/165^th, past St. Patrick’s Cathedral.  Donovan ordered his men to march wearing their steel helmets, ammunition boots with their weapons, rather than dress uniforms, saying, “They’re not going to see your faces, but they will never forget what you looked like.”  Donovan himself elected to march with his men rather than ride the traditional horse.  The regiment marched to the strains of the regimental march “Garryowen” to City Hall, where they were presented with “the freedom of the City.” Later that night in camp, Donovan heard some of his men singing “The Good Old Summer Time,” a tune which many of his men now buried in France, sang as they went up to the line for their first battle.  Donovan wept.

Despite having already accomplished enough to fill multiple lifetimes, history was still not done with “Wild Bill” Donovan. He would become a successful lawyer, federal prosecutor, and a confidant to Presidents for his clear and pragmatic thinking.  In the inter-war years, Donovan was often used as a presidential agent, especially when it came to foreign intelligence matters. In World War II, Donovan created the Office of Strategic Services, the O.S.S., the precursor to today’s C.I.A., and attained the rank of  Major General. After the war, he would assist in prosecuting Nazi war criminals at Nuremberg.

Little wonder that when informed that William Donovan had died peacefully after a life of honor and service to his country, then-President Eisenhower remarked, “What a man! We have lost the last hero.”

Neil F. Cosgrove  ©

Kathleen Rita McNulty was born in the village of Creeslough on February 12, 1921, the third of six children of Anne Nelis and James McNulty.  Her father was Commandant of the Doe Battalion of the Irish Volunteers. On the night of her birth, he was arrested and imprisoned in Derry Gaol for two years for his republican activities. On his release, the family emigrated to the United States and settled in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, where James worked as a stonemason and went on to establish a successful construction business, frequently working with Irish American John B Kelly, the father of the future Oscar-Winning actress Grace,

Coming from the Gaeltacht, Kathleen did not start speaking English until she began to attend school.  Her mother encouraged her “to prove that Irish immigrants could be as good, if not better, than anybody.” She proved a bright student and won a scholarship to Chestnut Hill College.

 Kathleen loved mathematics and took every math course available, including spherical trigonometry, differential calculus, projective geometry, partial differential equations, and statistics.  McNulty graduated as one of the school’s few female math majors in 1942.

Graduating at the height of WW II, she soon saw an ad in the Philadelphia Inquirer seeking women with math backgrounds.  The U.S. Army was seeking women to perform the grueling and precise calculations to compile firing tables for long-range guns, calculations that needed to be accurate out to ten decimal places.  Kathleen was hired with the official job title of “Computer.”

Within a few months, McNulty was transferred to work with the “differential analyser[sic]” at the Moore School of Engineering at the University of Pennsylvania.  The “analyser” was the most sophisticated calculator of the time.  Using the “analyser,” a single trajectory that had previously taken 50 hours to compute by hand could now be performed in less than one hour. Kathleen excelled at the detailed, meticulous work and was soon promoted to supervising calculations. She and other staff members worked six days a week, with the only holidays being Christmas and the Fourth of July.

In 1945, Kathleen and five other women were selected to work at the Aberdeen Proving Grounds in Maryland to develop the programs to run the top-secret 30-ton machine called the Electronic Numerical Integrator and Computer (ENIAC), the world’s first programmable, electronic, general-purpose digital computer..  ENIAC could perform the calculations that took the “analyser” an hour in less than ten seconds but would require developing a brand-new engineering discipline: Software Engineering.  McNulty is credited with creating “the subroutine,” a block of reusable computer code that can be used again and again rather than being rewritten over and over, to work past some of the limitations of ENIACs early logic circuits.  McNulty would later recall that in making ENIAC a success as the first digital computer, she made herself “the human computer” obsolete.

With the end of WW II, the vital role that Kathleen McNulty and her fellow women “computers” was soon unceremoniously and unjustly forgotten.  When the decision was made to reveal ENIAC as the first digital computer to the world, the role of Kathleen and the other women played in making ENIAC successful was relegated to the shadows.  They were told to act as hostesses to the government officials and reporters covering the event and to “stand by the computer and look good.”

Kathleen McNulty married ENIAC’s designer Mauchly and went on to have five children with him (in addition to raising two from his previous marriage).  While she continued to contribute to the field of computer science, programming several of her husband’s later computers, it was always behind the scenes.  After Mauchly’s death, she late married Severo Antonelli.   

Kathleen McNulty died on April 20, 2006.  She had come along way from the little Irish girl who had come to America not speaking English, and in the process, shaped the digital world we now live in. She deserves to be better remembered, and this is why we have and need Irish American Heritage Month.

Neil F. Cosgrove  ©

Patrick shipped out to Viet Nam as a member of Hotel Company, 2/4 Marines, 3^rd Division. On the night of 18 July 1966, while serving in a forward position at Cam Lo with three other Marines who were sleeping, their position came under grenade attack by enemy forces. The first grenade Patrick was able to kick out of their position where it exploded only to be followed by a second grenade that fell between two of his comrades. Without hesitation and in an unselfish act of valor, Gallagher threw himself on the grenade to personally absorb the full brunt of the explosion and save his comrades. Pinned under Gallagher’s body, the grenade failed to go off. Gallagher continued to lie on the grenade as his three comrades escaped the position despite the fact that two more enemy grenades were thrown into the position to explode around him. His comrades now in a position of safety and still miraculously unhurt, Gallagher then rolled off the grenade at his squad leaders order and threw the grenade into the nearby river where it immediately exploded upon hitting the water.

For his “extraordinary heroism and inspiring valor” Gallagher was awarded the Navy Cross. It is said that Gallagher was informed at that time that the only reason he had not been awarded our nation’s highest honor, the Medal of Honor, was only that “the grenade had not exploded and killed him, if it had, he would certainly have been a shoe-in.” This account has been verified in by Gallagher’s former Executive Officer who has stated that over his protests the Medal of Honor citation he had written up was downgraded to a Navy Cross before being submitted to a higher authority by his battalion. Again the reason given for not recommending Lance Corporal Gallagher for the Medal of Honor was that Corporal Gallagher’s unselfish act of sacrifice and heroism had not been fatal.  There is no requirement, nor has there ever been, that a person must die to receive the Medal of Honor, the Medal is awarded for the act of valor performed, not what happened to the individual performing it. Certainly lying on a live grenade under fire so that three fellow Marines could escape

Just two months after receiving the Navy Cross and due shortly to return home, Lance Corporal Gallagher was killed while on patrol.

On March 13, 2018, members of the Gallagher family and the Irish American community gathered in the shadow of the historic U.S.S. Intrepid at New York City’s pier 84 where Senator Charles Schumer announced that the Navy’s newest destroyer, DDG-127, would be christened the U.S.S. Gallagher.  The U.S.S. Gallagher will not only honor the life and service of Cpl. Gallagher but the 21 other immigrants whose names are inscribed on the Vietnam war memorial who though born in Ireland made the ultimate sacrifice for America; in naming a destroyer for Cpl. Gallagher Senator Schumer and Secretary Spencer have worthily honored them all.  The U.S.S. Gallagher will join her sister ships the U.S.S. Barry, named for Wexford immigrant Commodore John Barry who holds commission No. 1 in the United States Navy, and the U.S.S Michael Murphy, named for a descendant of Irish immigrants who was awarded the Medal of Honor posthumously in our Nation’s latest conflict. 

In every war, in every conflict, Irish American men and women have been stalwart in defense of the America that has offered them so much.

In the history of the Medal of Honor, the United States Highest award for “conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of his life above and beyond the call of duty“, only 19 men have been awarded the medal twice. Among them is Marine Sergeant Major Daniel Daly, one of only two marines to receive the Medal of Honor Twice for separate acts of heroism and nominated for a third.

Daly was born in Glen Cove, Long Island, New York, on 11 November 1873. He was slight of stature, only 5’ 6” in height and weighing 132 lbs, yet enjoyed an early reputation as a fighter, a reputation he would prove more than deserved.

Daly was part of the U.S. Embassy Guard in Peking when the Boxer Rebellion broke out in 1900. In one of the most memorable acts of that war, the Boxers surrounded the compound of the foreign legations in Peking and laid siege to it for 55 days. At one point, when German Marines of the German embassy were forced back, Daly by himself took a position in a bastion on the Tarter Wall and remained there throughout the night. Subjected to sniper fire and numerous attacks, when relieved in the morning Private Daly was still holding his position with the bodies of numerous attackers surrounding his position attesting to his bravery. For this he was awarded his first Medal of Honor.

Fifteen years later found now Gunnery Sergeant Daly in Haiti fighting against the Cacos. The reconnaissance company of 38 men that Daly belonged to was ambushed by over 400 of the enemy while attempting to ford a river at night. Among the casualties was the mule carrying the company’s machine gun. After getting his men to a good position, Daly returned, alone and under enemy fire, to the river and searched for the gun. He found it, and was able to bring the gun and its ammunition back to the Marine position. Daly then took command of one part of a three pronged assault on the rebel position, killing 75 rebels and scattering the rest. As one of the two officers present noted, “Had one squad failed, not one man of the party would have lived to tell the tale. Gunnery Sergeant Daly, 15th Company, during the operations was the most conspicuous figure among the enlisted men.” Daly was awarded his second Medal of Honor.

However Daly was not finished yet, there was yet the incident for which he is perhaps best remembered in the Marines for. In June 1918 at the battle of Belleau Wood in World War I the Marines were pinned down under heavy artillery barrage and pinned down. At one point the now 44 year old Daly, led a counter-attack with a battle cry that has become Marines lore “Come on, you sons of B——, do you want to live forever?!” Later in the battle, Daly single handedly eliminated a machine gun nest with nothing more than his 45 pistol and grenades. In the course of the battle he was wounded three times.

Daly was recommended for a third Medal of Honor and the NY Times reported it as a certainty.   However, petty bureaucratic politics came into play and a capricious decision was made that the Medal of Honor could only be awarded twice no matter how deserving subsequent acts of valor were.  Daly’s third Medal of Honor was denied solely on this technicality, instead he was awarded the Distinguished Service Cross, the Navy Cross and France’s Médaille Militaire.

Perhaps the greatest tribute was paid by General Smedley D. Butler, the other Marine to be awarded two Congressional Medals of Honor for separate acts of valor, who called Daly “The fightinest Marine I ever knew.” Offered promotion several times, Daly once remarked “I would rather be an outstanding sergeant than just another officer“.

Did you know that the first flag officer and founder of the United States Navy was an Irishman?  His name was John Barry and Dr. Benjamin Rush, a signer of the Declaration of Independence, said in his eulogy at Barry’s graveside, “He was born in Ireland, but America was the object of his devotion and the theater of his usefulness.”  Barry was born in Co. Wexford, Ireland in 1745 and grew up with a great love for the sea.  As a young man, he emigrated to the Crown colonies in America and by 1760, he was employed in a shipbuilding firm in Philadelphia.  In 1766, at the age of 21, he went to sea as Captain of the ship, Barbados.  The young Irishman seemed destined for a prosperous career in the colonies, but his integrity and sense of justice led him to risk all in a dangerous venture.

In 1775, years of smoldering unrest erupted in open rebellion as the American colonies declared their independence from the Crown.  As England prepared to regain control, the colonies formed the Second Continental Congress to establish a military force and defend their recently declared independence, but experienced men were hard to find.  Captain John Barry, an early champion of the patriot cause, promptly volunteered his service.  With nine years experience as a seagoing Captain and five successful commands to his credit, the young Irishman was warmly welcomed, and given command of a ship under the authority of the Continental Congress.  On Dec. 7, 1775, Captain John Barry took the helm of a new 14-gun vessel aptly named, Lexington.  He quickly trained a crew and began the task of supplying and supporting Washington’s ground forces.

 On April 7, 1776, he captured the British ship, Edward, and her cargo – the first American war prize.  On June 6, he was given command of the new cruiser, Effingham and captured two more British ships.  Despite Barry’s successes, the war was not going well for the Americans: Philadelphia was in the hands of the British, the British Navy had bottled up the Delaware River, General Benedict Arnold had betrayed West Point, and Washington’s troops were in dire need.  A victory was essential to boost sagging morale.  Barry captured an armed British vessel when ammunition was scarce and a supply ship when food was at a premium.  When Washington planned to cross the Delaware, Barry organized seamen and joined the land forces which crossed at one of the ferries owned by his Irish friend, Patrick Colvin of Co Cavan.  After the Delaware crossing and the subsequent victories at Trenton and Princeton, in which he served as an aide to Washington, Lord Howe made a flattering offer to Barry to desert the patriot cause. “Not the value or command of the whole British fleet” Barry replied, “can lure me from the cause of my country which is liberty and freedom.”  In addition to commanding naval operations for the Continental Congress, Barry supervised the building of their ships.

During a confrontation at sea on May 28, 1781, Barry was wounded and taken below.  His First Officer informed him that the battle was going against them and

Barry ordered to be carried back on deck.  When the British demanded his surrender, Barry defiantly refused and sparked his crew to victory.  The wounded Captain returned with yet another prize.  The last sea battle of the American Revolution took place in March 1783, as Barry was returning with gold from Havana and was set upon by three British ships.  The resourceful Captain engaged and destroyed one and outdistanced the other two, returning with the precious cargo which was used to establish a National Bank for the new nation.

Far from the war at sea, Barry also assisted at the Pennsylvania Convention held in 1787 to adopt the new constitution. During the Convention, a small group, opposed to the adoption of the new constitution, absented themselves, preventing a quorum from being formed.  Barry organized a group called The Compellers’ and physically forced enough of the seceding members back to form a quorum.  The vote was taken, and the constitution was finally approved.  People cheered and church bells rang as Barry scored yet another victory for his adopted nation.  In recognition of his vast experience and dedication, Washington demonstrated Barry’s immense value to the new nation when, on June 14, 1794, he sent for the popular naval hero and charged him with forming and training a class of midshipmen who would then be commissioned as Ensigns and form the nucleus of the new United States Navy.  Barry himself was named the ranking officer and granted Commission number one.

The mists of time have clouded the memory of this great Irish American and the tales of his heroic exploits were forgotten by the general public while the memory of Barry’s good friend and comrade, John Paul Jones, remained prominent.  However, members of the Ancient Order of Hibernians (AOH) and the Irish Brigade Association began to lobby for proper recognition for America’s early naval hero.  With support from the Naval Reserve Association, the Sons of the Revolution, the Naval Militia Association and Commodore Barry clubs, elected representatives were lobbied and in July 2000, Senator Daniel P Moynihan introduced a Senate resolution to recognize Commodore Barry as the First Flag Officer of the U.S. Navy.  Several years of lobbying and letter writing led to Peter King introducing a House resolution on March 17, 2005, which became law officially recognizing Commodore John Barry as the First Flag Officer of the U.S. Navy.  The AOH then organized the erection of Barry Gate and Barry Plaza at the U.S. Naval Academy at Annapolis. 

Commodore Barry had many firsts to his credit from being the first to fly the new American flag in battle to escorting America’s ally, General Lafayette, back to France, but the first that he should always be remembered for his position as First Flag Officer and organizer of United States Navy and one of the Irish who helped to shape America.

Mike McCormack, National Historian

THIS IRISH AMERICAN HERITAGE MONTH PROFILE IS PRESENTED BY THE ANCIENT ORDER OF HIBERNIANS (AOH.COM)

#IrishAmericanHeritageMonth

However, there was little money in a struggling family for luxuries, and specifically the $1,000 needed for flying lessons. During high school, Eileen worked nights at a pizza parlor to pay for flying lessons and to pay her tuition at the local community college where she earned a scholarship to Syracuse University. At Syracuse, she earned degrees in Mathematics and Economics and joined the Air Force ROTC. She was among the first 120 women to apply to the Undergraduate Pilot Training school at Vance Air Force Base, Oklahoma and was one of only four women chosen. After a year of training, the twenty-three-old Collins became the U.S. Air Force’s first female flight instructor. From 1979 until 1990 Collins taught flying at bases in Oklahoma, California, and Colorado. She also served as an assistant professor of mathematics at the U.S. Air Force Academy in Colorado Springs

By 1989, having logged over fifteen hundred hours of flight time and having secured several advanced degrees, Collins became the second woman ever to be accepted to the prestigious Air Force Test Pilot School at Edwards Air Force Base in California After graduating in 1990, Collins was selected by the National Aeronautics and Space Administration (NASA) to become an astronaut.

In the course of her 27 year Air Force/NASA career, Eileen Collins would attain the rank of Colonel and log 6,751 flight hours in 30 different types of aircraft and 872 hours in space. Collins was selected for the Astronaut program in 1990. She was the first woman to pilot a Shuttle in 1995 as part of the initial joint American/Russian Mission to the Mir Space Station. She would pilot a subsequent mission to the Mir before her third shuttle flight where she was the commander. In recognition of this special moment, Collins carried a scarf that had once belonged to aviation pioneer Amelia Earhart. In her fourth and final Shuttle Mission, Eileen Collins would be the first pilot to take the shuttle through a 360-degree pitch maneuver to ensure that the shuttle had not incurred damage during launch.

Col. Collins once observed, “I believe God gives us hopes and dreams, the dreams to do certain things with our lives and the ability to set goals.”  She is the encapsulation of the full potential of the American Dream and a symbol of the accomplishments and contributions that Irish Americans have made to our nation.

Neil Cosgrove

#IrishAmericanHeritageMonth

Did you know that the Irish had a major part in the victory on the bloodiest day in American history? It was at Antietam on September 17, 1862, and it was the victory that emboldened President Lincoln to issue the Emancipation Proclamation. Foremost among Union forces was the Irish Brigade led by Irish-born Gen. Thomas F Meagher. Their story is an extraordinary chronicle of military valor in America’s cause; once when President Lincoln visited General McClellan’s Union camp, he lifted a corner of the Irish Brigade Flag, kissed it and said Thank God for the Irish!

In early August, the Brigade pursued a Confederate division which halted just before the town of Sharpsburg and turned to await the incoming Union forces on the west side of Antietam Creek. The Irish halted on the east side, where Gen. McClellan set up HQ. Meagher wanted to attack, but McClellan waited for more units, but so did the rebels. By September 17, when McClellan finally ordered an attack, the rebels were in the area, in position, and in strength.

At 6 AM, McClellan sent the 1^st, 12^th, and 2^nd Corps in turn across the Antietam, but held the Irish Brigade back to defend HQ. Anxious to get into battle, Meagher watched as the Union forces broke in retreat, one after the other; At 9 AM McClellan finally sent Meagher’s Irish across the creek. Some gratefully soaked their feet which were so swollen that they couldn’t get boots on; they’d been fighting barefoot. Across the creek was a rise, and beyond the rise was 300 yards of open ground which ended at a sunken road. Over the years, farmer’s traffic had worn the road down so that it was 3 feet below ground level, forming a perfect trench, now filled with Confederate troops who devastated the oncoming Union troops with deadly fire. Meagher ordered his men forward and, as they crested the rise, he rode to their front, drew his sword and shouted, Irish Brigade, Raise the Colors and Follow Me!

The Union wounded, strewn across the field from the morning’s carnage, cheered as from the sunken road was heard, The Irish Brigade is coming. The rebels could hear the Irish cheering as the colors appeared over the top of the rise, first the streamers, then the flags: emerald green, then red, white, and blue. Then the Brigade appeared in a perfect line, as if on parade, rifles at the ready. The rebels rose up in the sunken road, leveled their muskets and fired. Death struck the Irish front. Every rebel bullet seemed to find its mark as the Brigade crossed the field. The emerald banners of the Brigade were special targets and were repeatedly lifted as color bearers were shot down. Capt. Clooney retrieved the colors of the 88th as they fell and was immediately shot in the knee. Using the staff as a crutch, he urged his men on. Shot twice more, he died enshrouded by the emerald silk of his regimental banner. A young private, lifted the flag from Clooney’s body and waved it defiantly at the enemy. The regiment roared its approval and charged into the hail of bullets.

Behind them, Gen. Caldwell led his men crossed the creek. He saw the 63rd and 88th being shot to pieces but, intimidated by the carnage, held back awaiting Gen. Richardson to arrive and take command. The Brigade, now more than 30 minutes in a fierce face-to-face fire-fight, was being cut to pieces. Meagher rode to the rear and pleaded, For God’s sake, come up and help! Col. Barlow replied, I’m truly sorry General, but, my orders are to remain here. Meager angrily rode back into battle and his horse was hit, fell, and rolled onto him leaving him injured. Meagher was carried back to a field hospital, as the ranks of the Brigade slowly diminished and ammunition was running low. There was nothing glorious about this fight, it was a bloody brawl, but Irish gradually got the upper hand. Virtually every rebel officer had been shot and the sunken road that provided them such great cover now looked like a mass grave with rebels covering every square inch of ground. The contest was too much for the rebels; braving the Irish fire, they bolted from the sunken road, and fled to the rear. The remaining Irish began to cheer when suddenly, from beyond the fleeing rebels, came fresh reinforcements! They ran into the sunken road, and straight out the other side charging the Irish. Instead of retreating, the Brigade stood fast, leveled their rifles, and fired into the charging rebels breaking their attack with a single volley. As the rebels regrouped for a counter attack, the surviving Irish looked nervously over their shoulders; where was their relief ?

Meanwhile, Gen. Richardson arrived and found Gen. Caldwell hiding behind a haystack. He cursed Caldwell

and ordered his men to relieve the Irish. The Brigade, still firing into the Confederates to keep them from regrouping, knew that one more attack would finish them. Then, just as the rebels were climbing out of the sunken road, Caldwell’s men entered the field behind them shouting, three cheers for the Irish Brigade. The Irish saw their reinforcements coming up the rise and a sense of pride surged through them. With a roar, they sprang to their weary feet and led the attack with Capt. Joyce shouting, Forward for St. Patrick and Ireland. This was the final blow! The rebels had fired cases of ammunition into the Irish, only to see them attack again and again with incredible arrogance. Now, just when the rebels thought they had them finished, the Irish had the audacity to attack them! The confederates broke and ran. Surrounded by dead and wounded comrades, the Irish stood at the edge of that road so dearly bought, and watched them go. Gen. Richardson, transfixed by the carnage before him, watched as the Irish turned their backs on the fleeing enemy. Then, with their tattered and blood stained flags proudly flying, they formed into ranks, as best they could, and marched down the rise to the cool waters of Antietam Creek amid the cheers of every man in sight. The unattainable sunken road was now the Union front line; that costly barrier that couldn’t be breached had been won by the Irish Brigade, and they gave it the name by which it would evermore be known – Bloody Lane. They were only a few of the Irish who made America great!

Mike McCormack, National Historian

THIS IRISH AMERICAN HERITAGE MONTH PROFILE IS PRESENTED BY THE ANCIENT ORDER OF HIBERNIANS (AOH.COM)

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Did you know that an Irish Catholic Priest Rev. Thomas O’Reilly threatened General Sherman with a mutiny by the Irish Catholics in his army if he torched the church district of Atlanta at the start of his infamous march to the sea and that General Sherman backed down and the entire church district was saved, including the City Hall which stood therein? However, Rev. Peter Whelan was just as courageous in another way. Rev. Whelan distinguished himself as a chaplain for the Montgomery Guards, an Irish company established in Savannah for the First Georgia Volunteer Regiment named for America’s first hero: Irish-born Revolutionary General Richard Montgomery. Previously he had been the administrator of the diocese of Savannah where the majority of his parishioners were poor Irish immigrants.   In 1862, his unit was bombarded into surrender by Union forces and though he was offered freedom, Rev. Whelan chose to remain with as chaplain to the prisoners. They were transported to Governor’s Island, NY where meager rations, few latrines and inadequate heating and ventilation soon had the prisoner suffering from pneumonia and typhus. Food and clean clothing were needed so Rev. Whelan wrote to Rev. William Quinn of St. Peter’s Church on Barclay Street, NY. Rev. Quinn, fearing that the damp, cold prison would seriously harm the 60-year-old Rev. Whelan’s health, secured a parole for him. However, except for an occasional trip to the city to procure necessities for the men, Whelan remained at the prison, saying Mass each morning, visiting the sick, giving encouragement and spiritual guidance to those in need.

On June 20, 1862, a prisoner exchange was arranged and the men were sent to Richmond. Rev. Whelan arrived with the sick on August 8 and was unconditionally released. Upon his return to Savannah, he resumed his post as Vicar General. In May 1864, a missionary priest stopped in to Andersonville prison where Union prisoners were held to see how many Catholics were there. What he saw staggered him and he asked that a priest be provided immediately. The Bishop of Georgia asked Rev. Whelan to go and the 62-year-old priest agreed. He arrived at Andersonville in June – the hottest time of the year and the period of the highest mortality. The camp was like nothing he had ever seen.

The stockade sloped down on both sides to a small stream about a yard wide and foot deep. With no arrangement for sewage disposal, this creek provided water for drinking, cooking, and bathing! Into the creek was also thrown the waste of two nearby Confederate camps as well as the grease and garbage from the cookhouse. The slow-flowing stream soon became a mass of thick pollution. In the center of the camp was a swamp, part of which had been used by the prisoners as a toilet and excrement covered the ground; the smell was suffocating! Some of the very sick who were unable to extricate themselves from the muck along the creek had to relieve themselves there making the creek a further source of disease for all. The prisoners numbered 33,000 when it should have held no more than 10,000. Whelan requested help and each priest who came only lasted about two weeks before giving up.

In late August, as Union General Sherman was about to enter Atlanta, some Union prisoners were transferred to Savannah and Charleston. By late September, Rev. Whelan decided to follow them, but before he left, he contacted a restaurant owner in Macon and borrowed $16,000. He purchased 10,000 pounds of wheat flour, had it baked into bread and distributed it at the prison. The prisoners called it Whelan’s bread and it provided the men with rations for several months. One former prisoner later wrote, without a doubt he was the means of saving hundreds of lives.  Another Union prisoner recorderd “ Of all the ministers in Georgia accessible to Andersonville, only one could hear this sentence, ‘I was sick and in prison and you visited me,’ and that one is a Catholic.”

Whelan returned to Savannah suffering from a lung ailment contracted at Andersonville. He wrote to Secretary of War, Edwin Stanton, asking for money to pay back the loan he made to provide bread for Union prisoners as the man from whom he’d borrowed was sick himself and needed the money. Stanton replied that he needed sworn bills of purchase for the flour. Whelan told Stanton to keep the money because he had neither the health nor the strength to run over Georgia to hunt up bills of purchase. He said that God would provide – and in a way He did. Due to his worsening health, doctors advised him to go north to a drier climate. Friends provided him with the funds to make the trip but, preferring justice to health; Rev. Whelan used the money to repay his debt. Rev. Whelan’s last days were as pastor of St. Patrick’s in Savannah where he died on February 6, 1871, at the age of 69. The Savannah Evening News described his funeral procession as the longest ever seen in the city. His splendid iron casket was ornamented with full-size silver roses and a wreath of laurel. 86 carriages escorted the body through the crowded streets to the cemetery. People from all over the city turned out to bid farewell to this beloved priest – Catholic and non-Catholic alike – for he was a true shepherd to those in need, Confederate and Union alike regardless of faith, and a true American hero. He was also one of the Irish who made America great.

Mike McCormack, National Historian (reprinted from 2019)

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It is an iconic image of WW II, a photo taken on June 6, 1944 showing American soldiers exiting a landing craft coming ashore at Omaha beach. A few months later on October 20th, another photo captured the moment General Douglas MacArthur “returned” to the Philippines, wading ashore from a landing craft. Neither of these historic moments would have been possible without one man, as overlooked but essential as the landing craft in these images that bore his name, Andrew Higgins.

Though in later life Higgins would be inseparably identified with New Orleans, he was born in Columbus, Nebraska in 1886. Losing his father when he was but seven years old, Higgins would claim he received his determination and strong will from his mother whose ancestors had come from Ireland after the failed rebellion of 1848. Higgins demonstrated the industry and innovation that were to be his hallmarks at an early age. At the age of nine and with only a sickle he began a grass cutting business. He soon purchased a lawn mower, eventually expanding until he had seventeen mowers and was hiring older boys to do the work while he managed the business. An incurable builder, the young Higgins constructed an iceboat in the basement of his home for use on the nearby lakes. When finished, he realized it was too big to be taken out of the basement doors. With characteristic determination, he borrowed jacks from a nearby construction site and with friends removed a section of the basement’s wall, got the boat out and restored the wall, all while his mother was out shopping. Perhaps not unexpectedly, such creativity, determination and strong will often brought young Higgins into conflict with school authorities resulting in him being expelled before graduating.

Higgins moved to the south where he began working in the lumber industry. His interest in boats was again rekindled when he was confronted with the problem of how to access timber from shallow, obstacle choked bayous. Higgins took a correspondence course in naval architecture and soon designed the first of the flat-bottomed shallow draft boats which would make him famous. The key feature was that the propeller was incorporated in a recessed tunnel that protected the propeller from grounding and fouling.

In the late 1930’s Higgins owned a small shipyard in New Orleans servicing the need of loggers and oil drillers in the Mississippi Delta. The

growing threat of war soon drew the interest of the Marines in Higgins’ boats as the Navy Bureau of Ships had consistently failed to produce craft that could effectively deliver Marines, their tanks and artillery on a beach. Marine General Holland “Howlin’ Mad” Smith on seeing trials of Higgins shallow draft “Eureka” boat thought it could be “an answer to the Marine prayer”. The one concern was that as configured the Marines would need to disembark the boat going over the side, slowing their exit when they were most vulnerable. At his own expense, Higgin’s modified the boats by cutting off the bow and replacing it with a ramp. Higgins received a call from the Navy that they and the Marines would be coming to New Orleans to test the ramped boats and Higgins should also prepare to discuss a design for a craft capable of landing tanks. Higgins informed the Navy that instead of a plan he would have a workable craft. “It can’t be done,” the Navy told him; “The Hell it can’t,” replied Higgins, “you just be here in three days”. Higgins had the boat built in 61 hours.  Both would be taken into service, and while the ramped “Eureka” would have the official designation of LCVP (Landing Craft, Vehicle, Personnel) it would be known universally as the Higgins Boat.

Higgins’ answer to the “Marine prayer” came just in time, as the United States would soon enter WW II. With his tireless energy, often working 16 hour days, Higgins seemingly overnight turned his small 50 man New Orleans boat building business into one of the largest boat builders in the world, building not only several models of landing craft but other boats as well. By September 1943, 12,964 of the American Navy’s 14,072 vessels had been designed by Higgins Industries.  Hitler bitterly called Higgins “The new Noah”.

A fact that should not be overlooked is that to achieve this prodigious output Higgins employed anyone capable of performing the job, irrespective of gender or race, and everyone who performed the same job was given the same pay. Higgins was one of our nation’s first equal opportunity employers. Realizing the impact a worker lost due to sickness could have on productivity, Higgins established a company clinic where works could access health care free of charge.

Unfortunately, wartime gratitude is a fleeting thing. When the war ended, the drive and determination which had enabled Higgins to deliver what his country needed came back to haunt him as the toes he stepped on to get the job done now took their revenge. Maverick innovators like Higgins were out of place in the conformist world of post-war corporate America. Despite an indisputable record of being an advocate for his workers, his firms were crippled by post-war strikes. Higgins died in New Orleans on 1 August 1952.

Andrew Jackson Higgins was like the boat that bore his name: straightforward, tough and reliable. Neither was sophisticated, they just got the job done. He deserves to be remembered much more than he is. As General Eisenhower noted, “Andrew Higgins … is the man who won the war for us. … If Higgins had not designed and built those LCVPs, we never could have landed over an open beach. The whole strategy of the war would have been different.”

Neil F. Cosgrove  ©

There were many Irish women among the settlers of the American West, and one of the best known in her time was a lady from County Cork named Ellen Cashman. Ellen came to America, like so many others, fleeing the effects of the Great Hunger.  She arrived in Boston in 1850 with her mother, Fanny, at the tender age of five where she grew up caring for a younger sister.  An ambitious young lady, she worked as a bellhop in a well-known Boston hotel when she decided to follow the call of the American West with the idea of making her fortune.  She moved to San Francisco and soon found employment as a cook at various mining camps.  By 1872, she’d saved enough money to open a miner’s boarding house in Nevada.  In this male-dominated arena, she relied on her courage, faith and a formidable pride in her Irish roots to survive.  It wasn’t long before she was headed for a gold-strike in British Columbia along with 200 Nevada miners.  Described as Pretty as a Victorian cameo and, when necessary, tougher than two-penny nails, the extraordinary Nellie Cashman wandered frontier mining camps of the 1800s seeking gold, silver and a way to help others.

  A devout Catholic, she set up a boarding house for miners, asking for donations to the Sisters of St. Anne in British Columbia in return for the services available at her boarding house.  On a trip to Victoria to deliver $500.00 to the nuns, she heard of 26 miners trapped by a snowstorm in the Cassiar mountains who were suffering from scurvy.  Nellie immediately organized an expedition with six men and collected food and medicines and set off to rescue them.  Conditions in the Mountains were so dangerous at the time that the Canadian Army considered it a foolish venture and sent troops to bring her back.  They found her on the ice of the Stikine River, cooking her evening meal.  She offered the troopers some tea and convinced them that she would not head back without rescuing the men.  After 77 days of trekking through stormy weather, she and her team, pulling 150,000 pounds of food often through 10 feet of snow, found the sick men, but instead of the 26 reported, there were 75.  She nursed them all back to health with a vitamin C diet and endeared herself to the entire mining community earning the first of her many titles, Angel of the Cassiar.  However, when the gold strike petered out, she bid farewell and headed south for the big silver strike in Tucson, Arizona.

  Nellie arrived in Tucson on October 10, 1878.  It was a growing town where Nellie hoped to prosper and she bought, worked and sold mining claims, boarding houses, restaurants and mercantile shops, each one adding to her climb up the ladder to financial security.  In June 1879, just after opening Delmonico’s restaurant and advertising ‘the best meals in town,’ a silver strike in Tombstone turned her head.  Here was a town growing faster than Tucson.  Retaining ownership in the Delmonico, Nellie headed for Tombstone.  There, she opened a shoe store, then a general store and, a year, later she was back in the food business with Tombstone’s Russ House Restaurant.  Among her customers were her fellow Irish-American citizens like the McLowery gang, the Clantons, and the Earps.  Local legend notes that a client once complained about Nellie’s cooking and Doc Holiday, sitting nearby, drew his pistol and asked the man what he’d said.  Looking down the barrel of Doc’s gun, the man said, Best food I ever et.

  Nellie decided that since Tombstone was known as the most lawless town in the west, it needed a dose of religion.  She befriended John Clum, editor of the Tombstone Epitaph and he helped her champion the construction of a Catholic Church and Hospital.  In the meantime, she persuaded the owners of the Crystal Palace Saloon to allow Mass to be held there every Sunday.  During the week, she walked the dusty streets of Tombstone soliciting donations from gamblers, miners, prostitutes, badmen, lawmen and average citizens.  She added her own sizeable contribution and on November 28, 1880, a Catholic Mass was first held at the new Sacred Heart Church; construction of a hospital soon followed.  Nellie’s organizing ability wasn’t limited to Church and Hospital either.  Noting that almost 600 of Tombstone’s residents were native Irish, Nellie organized that town’s first St. Patrick’s Day celebration.  It was a grand Ball held on March 17, 1881. 

  Nellie is remembered today by historians as the Angel of Tombstone, Angel of the Cassair, and Saint of the Sourdoughs, but her contributions were far from over.  Having brought civility to ‘The town too mean to die,’ Nellie moved on to Bisbee, Arizona where she leased the Bisbee Hotel and prospected a while.  She followed the lure of precious metal to towns in Wyoming, Montana, and New Mexico.  Wherever she went, her fame preceded her, and everywhere she went she provided financial assistance to Catholic Churches and hospitals.

  In 1898, she pulled up stakes again and headed back to British Columbia, Alaska, and the Yukon.  St.  Joseph’s hospital in Victoria, British Columbia; St Mary’s hospital in Dawson, Alaska and St Matthews’s hospital in Fairbanks, Alaska, all owe their existence in part to Nellie Cashman’s fundraising activities.  Beside her philanthropic fame, she was an astute businesswoman and a fair miner.  There are even stories of her competing in an arctic dog-sled race while in her late sixties.  Her last stop was Victoria, British Columbia, where, on January 25, 1925, she died of pneumonia.  She lies in a plot with the Sisters of St Ann, overlooking Ross Bay.  When asked by a reporter why she never married she said: Why child, I haven’t had time.  Men are a nuisance anyhow, now aren’t they?  They’re just boys grown up.

  Today, the Sacred Heart Church, built in 1880, still stands at the corner of Fifth and Safford Streets in Tombstone Arizona and the Nellie Cashman Restaurant stands nearby behind the adobe walls of her original Russ House.   When Nellie passed, she was buried by the Sisters of St. Ann in British Columbian in gratitude for her kindness.  The epithet on her headstone reads “Friend of the sick and the hungry, and to all men. Heroic apostolate of service among the western and northern frontier miners”.  

A remarkable woman, she is just one more of the many links between Ireland and the American west of which we are so proud.  On March 15, 2006, Nellie Cashman was inducted into the Alaska Mining Hall of Fame.

Mike McCormack, National Historian

THIS IRISH AMERICAN HERITAGE MONTH PROFILE IS PRESENTED BY THE ANCIENT ORDER OF HIBERNIANS (AOH.COM)

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Did you know that the first Gold Medal winner in modern Olympic history was the son of Irish immigrant parents and that Irish athletes dominated Olympic track and field events for the U.S. for the first two decades of the 20th century? The first to win was James Connolly, and he was born on October 28, 1868, in an impoverished section of South Boston. He grew up with a love of sports and when an International Olympic Committee resurrected the ancient Olympic Games to be held in Athens in April 1896, Connolly requested a leave of absence from Harvard to participate and left for Greece. After arriving in Naples, he was robbed and had to take a later train; he arrived just in time for the Games but too late for practice. The first event on opening day was the triple jump, involving three successive jumps.

It was one of the original competitions in the Ancient Greek Olympics. In Ireland, the geal-ruith (triple jump) was also an ancient event, contested in Irish games as early as 1800 BC. Connolly entered and finished more than a meter ahead of his nearest opponent by jumping 44′ 11″. He became the first Olympic champion since 385 AD receiving a First Place Silver medal since Gold medals were not yet established. He went on to take second place in the high jump (5′ 5″) and third place in the long jump (19′ 2″). As for the rest of his team, a total of 14 athletes from the US competed and were the most successful nation with 11 First Place medals. Overall, the American team had 27 entries in 16 events, with 20 of the 27 finishing in the top three places. Back home, the team was welcomed enthusiastically, and Connolly was presented with a gold watch by the citizens of South Boston. After he died in New York on Jan 20, 1957 at age 88, a book on the 1896 Olympics recorded that, James Connolly became the first known Olympic champion since Zopyros of Athens in the 291^st Olympic games held in 385 AD. His memorabilia, including the initial First Place medal in modern Olympic history, is housed in the library of Colby College, Maine.

Connolly inspired more Irish into the Olympics on America’s behalf since Ireland at the time was under Britain and they refused to compete for the Crown. Between 1896 and 1924, a group dubbed by the newspapers as the “Irish Whales” because of their large, muscular appearance won everything from Amateur Athletic Union national championships to the Olympic Games. The Irish Whales were John J Flanagan and Paddy Ryan of Limerick, James Mitchell and Matt McGrath of Tipperary, Pat McDonald of Clare and Martin Sheridanof Mayo.  Sheridan at 6’3″ and 194 pounds was the lightest but what he lacked in girth, he made up for with his athletic accomplishments, winning nine Olympic medals. Matt McGrath was 6′ tall and 248 pounds; Flanagan was about the same. Paddy Ryan was 6′ 5″ and 296, and Pat McDonald was 6′ 5″ and 300 pounds. They were all members of the Irish American Athletic Club, the NY Athletic Club and, except for Ryan, were all members of the NYC Police Department.

Arthur Daly in the New York Times wrote that they got their nicknames on the train trip to the Olympics of 1912 in Sweden. He wrote. Those big fellows all sat at the same table and their waiter was a small chap. Before we reached Stockholm he had lost twenty pounds, worn down by bringing them food. Once, as he passed me, he muttered under his breath, ‘It’s whales they are, not men.’ They used to take five plates of soup as a starter and then gulp down three or four steaks with trimmings.

Flanagan won Gold in 1900, 04 and 08 and Silver in 04; in the 1908 Olympics in London, he broke his own record with a hammer throw of 170 feet, 4.5 inches; the Silver went to the former record holder Matt McGrath. Flanagan later returned to Ireland upon the death of his father. McGrath won Gold in 1912 setting a record that stood for 24 years and in 1924 won Silver setting an unbroken record for the oldest person ever to win an Olympic medal. Mitchell won Bronze in 1904, and Martin Sheridan won Gold 5 times in 1904, 06 and 08.

Perhaps the most memorable legacy of these great athletes was set at the 1908 Olympics held in London where many medals were won by Irish athletes representing America, not the least of which were the Irish Whales. During the Parade of Nations, it was customary for teams to dip their nation’s flags in a show of respect as they passed the ruling monarch of the host country. Martin Sheridan of the American Olympic team was scheduled to carry the American flag. Everyone knew Sheridan held a grudge against the English because of the Great Hunger 60 years earlier so coaches of the Olympic committee replaced Sheridan with Ralph Rose as flag bearer. It should be noted that these Irish athletes also had a strong sense of patriotic pride to their newly adopted country and as the American team approached the Royal Box, Matt McGrath broke ranks and stepped up to the American flag bearer and said, Dip that flag and you will be in a hospital tonight. The flag was not dipped and it caused an international incident. During a news conference later, Martin Sheridan spoke for the entire Olympic team when he pointed to the American flag and said, That flag dips to no earthly king. A precedent was set that is followed to this day. During the Olympic Games or on any occasion on land or at sea, the American Flag has never been dipped to anyone since that day in 1908. In fact on June 14, 1923, the U.S. Flag Code was adopted to read, No disrespect should be shown to the flag of the United States of America; the flag should not be dipped to any person or thing. Now, June 14 is remembered as Flag Day and you can look for that historic moment to be repeated at future Olympic opening ceremonies thanks to an Irishman. They were just a few of the Irish who helped to make America great. America’s Irish continued to dominate Olympic throwing events until the 1928 Olympics when the U.S. lost for the first time in the hammer throw event. They lost to an Irishman, Dr. Patrick O’Callaghan, who was competing for the new Irish Free State. He had been trained by John J Flanagan – one of the whales who had gone home!

Mike McCormack, National Historian (originally publish 2018)

THIS IRISH AMERICAN HERITAGE MONTH PROFILE IS PRESENTED BY THE ANCIENT ORDER OF HIBERNIANS (AOH.COM)

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DID YOU KNOW that in the annals of America’s heroes, there is scarcely a brighter entry than that of the fighting Sullivan brothers?  Born in Waterloo, Iowa to Railroad conductor Tom Sullivan and his wife Alleta, George, Francis, Albert, Joseph, and Madison grew up the best of friends in the closeness of an Irish family and matured into patriotic Americans. It was no surprise, therefore, that when Pearl Harbor was attacked, the Sullivan brothers headed straight for the nearest U.S. Navy recruiting office.

Navy policy discouraged family members from serving together, but the Sullivans were determined that nobody would split them up. If the Navy wouldn’t take them, they would try somewhere else. With the demand for recruitment high, and five healthy young Irish-Americans offering to serve, the request was granted, and on Jan 3, 1942, they enlisted. Later, George tried to explain their decision to their mother. His words were tragically prophetic; he said, If worse comes to worst, at least we’ll go down together. In less than a year the worst came to pass.

On the morning of Nov 13, 1942, during the battle of Guadalcanal, east of the Solomon Islands in the South Pacific, the Sullivans were aboard the USS Juneau when she was hit by a torpedo in her forward engine room. Minutes later another shot hit her weapons magazine. In a violent blinding flash, the ship erupted. In 42 seconds she sank in shark-infested waters; only 10 of her 711 crew members were rescued; the Sullivans were not among them! The sinking of the Juneau was one of the most tragic losses of the war, but the loss of the five brothers shocked the nation.

It was the greatest military loss by any one American family during World War II. The Waterloo Courier reported that, In the history of the Navy, no mother has received a blow as severe as that which has come to this mother. Mrs. Alleta Sullivan endured her sorrow by helping other families overcome their own personal tragedies. Helping others in sorrow kills your own sorrow, she told a reporter. Condolences poured in from every level of society, Presidential letters and visits and even Congressional resolutions could not ease the pain that the nation felt. Hollywood even immortalized the boys in a full-length feature film: The Fighting Sullivans that left those who saw it teary-eyed.

The ultimate tribute, however, came in April 1943 when the Bethlehem Shipbuilding Company invited Mrs. Sullivan to christen the U.S. Navy’s new Fletcher-class destroyer, the USS Sullivans (DD537).  It would be a fighting memorial to her sons. The USS Sullivans was the first ship ever commissioned to honor more than one person. The Sullivans were on the sea once more. The USS Sullivans received nine battle stars for service in World War II and two more for service in the Korean action.

On 7 January 1965, USS Sullivans was decommissioned but remained in reserve into the 1970s. In 1977, she was donated to the Buffalo and Erie County Naval & Military Park in Buffalo, NY as a public memorial. It was declared a National Historic Landmark in 1986 and today, the decommissioned USS Sullivans sits proudly at Buffalo’s Naval Park with her shamrock flag still waving from her mainmast and a brass plaque on her quarterdeck recalling the vow of the five Sullivan brothers – We stick together!  However, that’s not the end of the story.

The USS The Sullivans (DDG-68), Arleigh Burke-class Aegis guided-missile destroyer was launched on 12 August 1995. She was christened by Kelly Ann Sullivan Loughren, the granddaughter of Albert Sullivan – one of the brothers. This newest ship to carry the Sullivans’ name was officially commissioned on 19 April 1997 and still carries the name of the five Sullivan brothers across the seas with her official motto: We Stick Together commemorating just a few of the Irish-Americans who made America Great!

Mike McCormack, National Historian (originally publish 2017)

THIS IRISH AMERICAN HERITAGE MONTH PROFILE IS PRESENTED BY THE ANCIENT ORDER OF HIBERNIANS (AOH.COM)

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Note: Appropriately on St. Patrick’s Day March 17, 2018 the crew of Research Vessel (R/V) Petrel discovered the wreckage of the Sulivans’s USS Juno after being lost for more than 75 years 

Let’s take them one at a time.  Some claim St. Patrick to be Italian because he was born in Roman occupied territory, and his name was Patricius.  Sadly, the mists of time have clouded the exact location of his birth, but what is concluded from available evidence is that he was born somewhere in Wales around 386 AD.  Patrick himself wrote that the scene of his youth was Banavem Tiburniae (possibly the town of Tiburnia near Holyhead in western Wales), where his father was a member of the governing body.  Other Welsh sources suggest southern Wales near the Bristol Channel at the mouth of the Severn River.  Although Wales was part of the Roman Empire at that time, it was a Celtic country and its people were one race with the people of Ireland, Scotland, Brittany, Cornwall, and the Isle of Man.  As for his Italian sounding name, it was given to him when he was consecrated Bishop and assigned to the mission in Ireland.  Before that time, our patron Saint’s name was Succat, a Celtic name meaning victorious.  There is, therefore, more evidence to suggest that Patrick was Celtic than any other nationality.  He even identified himself as such in his letter to the British prince, Corocticus.

As for the snakes, although a popular legend, it is scientifically known that there never were any in Ireland, to begin with.  His connection with that legend stems from the Viking misinterpretation of his name.  Paud in the old Norse language meant a toad, and when the Vikings heard of a Saint called Paud-rig, who had lived in Ireland before their coming, they concluded it meant toad-expeller.  That was only the beginning, because the legend was reinforced by the Church’s representation of the Devil in the form of a serpent, and statues of Patrick driving the Devil out of Ireland in that form.  The fact that there were no snakes led to the question, “what happened to them,” and the answer was easily found in St Patrick’s traditional statue.  However, Patrick is more revered for what he brought to Ireland than what he drove away.  Yet he was not the first to bring Christianity . . . he was, however, the most effective.

The story began when Patrick was about 16 years old, and Ireland’s High King, Niall of the Nine Hostages, sent warriors to raid the coast of Wales for slaves.  Among the hostages taken was the youth, Succat.  According to tradition, he was taken to Mt. Slemish, Co. Antrim, where he tended the flocks of either a Druid or a Chieftain, according to Ludwig Beiler’s The Life and Legend of St. Patrick.  After six years, Succat escaped following a voice that he heard in his dreams.  He fled to Wexford, found passage, and eventually returned to his family.  There he received his vocation for missionary work in Ireland in three separate dreams – the most notable was one in which the voice of the Irish called to him, “Holy youth, come again and walk among us.”

Succat received religious training at monastic settlements in Gaul, Italy, and the islands of the Tyrrhene Sea.  He was ordained a Deacon by Amator, Bishop of Auxerre about 418 AD, and was consecrated Bishop – receiving the name Patricius – in 432 AD.  At the time, there were a few Christians already in Ireland, but without a central authority and in such isolated areas as an island in Wexford harbor where St. Ibar had established his church and school.

In any case, it is certain that Patrick was in Auxerre in 431, when St. Germanus selected Palladius, a contemporary of Patrick’s, as the first Bishop of Ireland, but that mission was short-lived.  According to the memoirs of Tirechan, a cleric in Meath about 690 AD, Palladius died or left within a year.  Patrick was assigned to replace him in 432.  Working to his advantage was the fact that Patrick knew Irish customs and language from his years in captivity and the fact that he was a Celt.  Patrick never condemned the Irish as idolatrous pagans but appealed to their pride.  He explained their traditions in terms of Christianity and was eventually accepted as one of their own.  He converted key people among the nobility and recruited a native clergy.

He began his missionary work in Ulster, built his first Church at Saul, two miles from Downpatrick, and from there journeyed across the land.  Patrick’s own writings and the writings of his contemporaries show him to have been a missionary of extraordinary zeal, energy, and courage, careless of his own safety in his fervor to `spread the nets for God’.  In his own writings, he mentions this `divine impatience’ as well as describing himself as one of the Irish.  For 29 years, Patrick labored among his beloved Irish, converting and baptizing them by the thousands until his death on March 17, 461 AD.  Tradition establishes that he was buried at Downpatrick where he shares the same grave with Saints Bridget and Columcille who were later interred with him to protect their remains from Viking raiders.  He was recognized as a saint in the 17th century by the extension of his feast day to the universal Church calendar.

However, by all accounts, the most momentous part of his legacy is the form of Christianity he left in Ireland for it inspired a life of sacrifice for the sins of man.  That sacrifice, which became known as ‘white martyrdom’ included prayerful solitude, fasting, tedious transcription of sacred documents, abstinence from worldly pleasures which to some meant dressing in coarse garments and sleeping on hard beds with stone pillows, and most importantly, missionary activity.  It was this devotion which led to Ireland becoming the Isle of Saints and Scholars, the University of Europe and the Lamp of the West; and it was his fervor to spread the nets for God that led future generations of Irish monks to travel the continent as missionaries, bringing the light of learning back into the abyss after the Dark Ages and saving civilization.

This then is the man – the Saint – that we honor in March, and it our duty to see that nothing but praise and reverence are attached to his name.  We may celebrate his memory with joy, but remember his love for the Irish, the tremendous gift of faith that he bestowed upon us and the inspiration he provided which benefitted civilization, and celebrate with reverent joy.  We can begin by replacing all references to Paddy’s Day with the proper name of Saint Patrick’s Day for the difference between Paddy’s Day and St. Patrick’s Day is the same as the difference between the office Christmas Party and Midnight Mass.

During its period of operation from 1892 till 1954, over 12 million immigrants entered through the immigration station at Ellis Island, a name that was to become synonymous with the “Golden Door” and the “American Dream”. It is estimated that today over forty percent of the United States population can trace their ancestry to an immigrant that entered Ellis Island.

On New Year’s Day Morning 1892 on the deck of the steamship Nevada stood three adolescents, Annie Moore and her brothers Phillip and Anthony. They were perhaps staring at another recent immigrant from France, the Statue of Liberty. The children had made the twelve-day voyage from Cork in the claustrophobic conditions of steerage to be reunited with their parents and older siblings who had traveled on ahead to make a new life in America two years earlier. In addition to the natural apprehension of starting a new life in a strange land, the children had no doubt heard that they would be subject to a series of examinations at the immigration station; they would be checked to ensure they were healthy and then interrogated to ensure they were neither a threat or likely to become “a public charge”. A slight malady or a wrong answer could result in them being returned to the Nevada and a trip back to Ireland alone. It therefore must have been with some anxiety that Annie realized that she would be the first to go down the gangplank.

It must have been quite a shock when Annie now found herself caught up in what we would now call a PR event surrounding the opening of the new immigration station. The New York Times was there and described Annie as “a little rosy-cheeked Irish girl… fifteen years of age.” (Actually, Annie was closer to seventeen years of age. The children’s ages were all misstated on the manifest, perhaps an attempt by their parents to save money on their passage.) Instead of an anonymous immigration agent, Annie was officially registered by the former private secretary to the secretary of the treasury. The Times continued “When the little voyager had been registered Col. Weber presented her with a ten-dollar gold piece and made a short address of congratulation and welcome. It was the first United States coin she had ever seen and the largest sum of money she ever possessed. She says she will never part with it.” This moment was later commemorated in the song “Isle of Hope, Isle of Tears” popularized by the Irish tenor Ronan Tynan.

Sadly, there would be no fairy tale ending to the life of Annie Moore, her brief moment of notoriety would be a shining moment in a hard and trying life. The statement that Annie would never part with the ten dollar gold piece was likely an invention of a romantic reporter; the coin probably never lasted the day when Annie was reunited with her family who was eking out an existence on her father’s longshoreman salary. She would spend the rest of her life living in a series of tenements near the Fulton Street Fish Market. She would marry the son of a German immigrant who was employed as a bakery clerk. They would have 11 children, but would bury five of them. Annie herself would die at the early age of 47 in 1924; burned out by a life of poverty and struggle.

Annie Moore was initially buried in an unmarked grave in Calvary Cemetery, Queens until it was rediscovered in 2006. Through the efforts of the Irish American community, the grave was marked by a Celtic Cross of Irish Blue Limestone. Some cynics questioned the elaborateness of the memorial given the grim reality of Annie’s life. However, in honoring Annie Moore we honor all the other anonymous Irish men and women who came to this country and sacrificed their present for future generations’ tomorrow while at the same time building America. It is reported that many of the current descendants of Annie’s surviving children are successful and respected members of the community.

It is right and proper that we remember the many great Irish American men and women who gained well deserved distinction in government, the military, the arts and sciences. However in remembering Annie Moore we remember the countless other anonymous Irish Americans who loaded our ships as Annie’s father did, built our railroads, fought our fires, patrolled our streets and taught in our schools.

Annie Moore is a reminder that the success of Irish America comes from sweat, sacrifice, and tears and not “the luck of the Irish”. It is time we reclaimed the struggle and successes of Irish America from the unmarked grave where it currently lies buried in our school’s curricula. She is also a reminder that the “Golden Door” that she once walked through is now unjustly closed to Irish immigrants as it freely swings open to others; a challenge to complete her memorial by seeking a fair and just immigration policy for today’s Annie Moore’s.

Neil F. Cosgrove  ©

The recent HBO Mini-Series The Pacific has brought a long overdue recognition to the sacrifices and hardships endured by the U.S. Marines in the Second World War. These battles were fought on isolated islands that one would struggle to locate on a map: Guadalcanal, Roi-Namur, Saipan-Tinian, Peleliu, Okinawa. Combat was often at point blank range; not only did the men involved battle the enemy, but poisonous snakes, insects, disease and the climate. Nowhere was the fighting harder than the Battle of Iwo Jima, a battle where Admiral Nimitz later observed “Uncommon Valor was a Common Virtue.” No one typified that valor more than Joseph Jeremiah McCarthy.

Joseph Jeremiah McCarthy was born in Chicago Illinois on April 10, 1911. An excellent athlete, he was an all-state guard in football and hit the game winning home run to capture the city’s baseball championship for his high school. McCarthy joined the Chicago Fire Department and was assigned to the city’s Truck Company 11 before enlisting in the Marines on February 20, 1937. McCarthy served for four years and had been discharged, but was recalled to service as a Gunnery Sergeant just prior to the attack at Pearl Harbor. McCarthy was soon noted for his leadership ability and experience, and was selected for an Officer’s commission.

As a member of the 4th Marine Division, McCarthy was deployed overseas in January 1944. At Saipan while leading a rifle company, he earned the Silver Star and Purple Heart for carrying two wounded Marines to safety while under enemy fire. In his book Iwo Jima: Legacy of Valor, Historian Bill D. Ross Described McCarthy as “… Irish and he looked it: husky, red complexioned, pug nose. Superior officers sometimes found his manner abrasive… (while) his men called him “the best damned officer in the Marine Corps.”

It was at the battle of Iwo Jima that McCarthy’s courage and leadership really came to the fore. If there is an entrance to Hell from Earth, then it would be Iwo Jima. The volcanic island constantly emitting brimstone fumes, the surface lifeless, waterless and covered in black choking ash. Even such basic protections as a foxhole were denied, for under the ash was impenetrable obsidian. What nature had created the Japanese General Kuribayashi and his command perfected: they had created a labyrinth of interlocking defense including concealed pillboxes which could be accessed by a maze of tunnels blasted into the Island and all but impervious to bombing and bombardment. Finally, there was the resolve of the Japanese themselves. They knew that it was impossible to defeat the Americans. Their goal was to sacrifice themselves to inflict as many American casualties as possible in hopes of gaining an advantage in peace negotiations. General Kuribayashi forbade the suicidal Banzai charges that had marked early Japanese defensive tactics; he gave orders that each man was to hold his position and kill at least 10 US Marines before dying himself. When the invasion began, he had his men hold their fire until the beach was crowded with US Marines who mistakenly believed that the pre-landing naval bombardment had silenced all opposition. Then General Kuribayashi unleashed hell.

It was in this maelstrom that now Captain McCarthy and his men found themselves. On the third day of the battle, 21 February 1945, McCarthy and his company were pinned by uninterrupted Japanese rifle, machine gun, and artillery fire. McCarthy quickly organizing an assault team which he then proceeded to lead across 75 yards of open ground under constant enemy fire. McCarthy personally charged a heavily fortified bunker, hurling hand grenades into the emplacement completely destroying the enemy position. McCarthy then led his team in an assault on a second pillbox which was similarly destroyed. Entering the ruins, McCarthy found a Japanese soldier taking aim at one of his men whom McCarthy disarmed and shot him with his own weapon. McCarthy then rallied his men and proceeded to capture the entire ridge. Of the assault, McCarthy in his characteristic no nonsense style stated “I was scared all the time”… “Any man tells you he wasn’t scared was an imbecile. But you dealt with it.” McCarthy and his men would continue to fight on Iwo Jima for another 33 days. Of 347 who served in McCarthy’s company during the battle, only 35 were able to walk off the Island when the battle was over.

For his heroic actions at Iwo Jima, Joseph J. McCarthy was awarded the Medal of Honor in addition to a second purple heart.. When presenting the Medal, President Truman told McCarthy, “I’d rather have one of these than be President.” McCarthy viewed the award unromantically, saying in later years “I would hope and pray there never be another Medal of Honor issued, I hope and pray there’s never any more wars. But we’ve got to remain strong.” McCarthy was discharged with the rank of Lt. Colonel. After the war McCarthy visited many of the families of his Marines who had been killed in action on Iwo Jima. Each one of them, he told the families, had been just as brave as he was, just not as lucky.

Joseph McCarty returned to the Chicago Fire Department where he became the Superintendent of Ambulances in the Chicago Fire Department, a position he held till his retirement in 1973. In 1959 McCarthy was honored by the Chicago Irish community by being named the Grand Marshal of their Saint Patrick’s Day Parade. Joseph McCarthy passed away on June 15, 1996. As one of his fellow Marines stated, “(McCarthy) was not a one-shot hero, he was a hero at every campaign and everything he did.”

The recent HBO Mini-Series The Pacific has brought a long overdue recognition to the sacrifices and hardships endured by the U.S. Marines in the Second World War. These battles were fought on isolated islands that one would struggle to locate on a map: Guadalcanal, Roi-Namur, Saipan-Tinian, Peleliu, Okinawa. Combat was often at point blank range; not only did the men involved battle the enemy, but poisonous snakes, insects, disease and the climate. Nowhere was the fighting harder than the Battle of Iwo Jima, a battle where Admiral Nimitz later observed “Uncommon Valor was a Common Virtue.” No one typified that valor more than Joseph Jeremiah McCarthy.

Joseph Jeremiah McCarthy was born in Chicago Illinois on April 10, 1911. An excellent athlete, he was an all-state guard in football and hit the game winning home run to capture the city’s baseball championship for his high school. McCarthy joined the Chicago Fire Department and was assigned to the city’s Truck Company 11 before enlisting in the Marines on February 20, 1937. McCarthy served for four years and had been discharged, but was recalled to service as a Gunnery Sergeant just prior to the attack at Pearl Harbor. McCarthy was soon noted for his leadership ability and experience, and was selected for an Officer’s commission.

As a member of the 4th Marine Division, McCarthy was deployed overseas in January 1944. At Saipan while leading a rifle company, he earned the Silver Star and Purple Heart for carrying two wounded Marines to safety while under enemy fire. In his book Iwo Jima: Legacy of Valor, Historian Bill D. Ross Described McCarthy as “… Irish and he looked it: husky, red complexioned, pug nose. Superior officers sometimes found his manner abrasive… (while) his men called him “the best damned officer in the Marine Corps.”

It was at the battle of Iwo Jima that McCarthy’s courage and leadership really came to the fore. If there is an entrance to Hell from Earth, then it would be Iwo Jima. The volcanic island constantly emitting brimstone fumes, the surface lifeless, waterless and covered in black choking ash. Even such basic protections as a foxhole were denied, for under the ash was impenetrable obsidian. What nature had created the Japanese General Kuribayashi and his command perfected: they had created a labyrinth of interlocking defense including concealed pillboxes which could be accessed by a maze of tunnels blasted into the Island and all but impervious to bombing and bombardment. Finally, there was the resolve of the Japanese themselves. They knew that it was impossible to defeat the Americans. Their goal was to sacrifice themselves to inflict as many American casualties as possible in hopes of gaining an advantage in peace negotiations. General Kuribayashi forbade the suicidal Banzai charges that had marked early Japanese defensive tactics; he gave orders that each man was to hold his position and kill at least 10 US Marines before dying himself. When the invasion began, he had his men hold their fire until the beach was crowded with US Marines who mistakenly believed that the pre-landing naval bombardment had silenced all opposition. Then General Kuribayashi unleashed hell.

It was in this maelstrom that now Captain McCarthy and his men found themselves. On the third day of the battle, 21 February 1945, McCarthy and his company were pinned by uninterrupted Japanese rifle, machine gun, and artillery fire. McCarthy quickly organizing an assault team which he then proceeded to lead across 75 yards of open ground under constant enemy fire. McCarthy personally charged a heavily fortified bunker, hurling hand grenades into the emplacement completely destroying the enemy position. McCarthy then led his team in an assault on a second pillbox which was similarly destroyed. Entering the ruins, McCarthy found a Japanese soldier taking aim at one of his men whom McCarthy disarmed and shot him with his own weapon. McCarthy then rallied his men and proceeded to capture the entire ridge. Of the assault, McCarthy in his characteristic no nonsense style stated “I was scared all the time”… “Any man tells you he wasn’t scared was an imbecile. But you dealt with it.” McCarthy and his men would continue to fight on Iwo Jima for another 33 days. Of 347 who served in McCarthy’s company during the battle, only 35 were able to walk off the Island when the battle was over.

For his heroic actions at Iwo Jima, Joseph J. McCarthy was awarded the Medal of Honor in addition to a second purple heart.. When presenting the Medal, President Truman told McCarthy, “I’d rather have one of these than be President.” McCarthy viewed the award unromantically, saying in later years “I would hope and pray there never be another Medal of Honor issued, I hope and pray there’s never any more wars. But we’ve got to remain strong.” McCarthy was discharged with the rank of Lt. Colonel. After the war McCarthy visited many of the families of his Marines who had been killed in action on Iwo Jima. Each one of them, he told the families, had been just as brave as he was, just not as lucky.

Joseph McCarty returned to the Chicago Fire Department where he became the Superintendent of Ambulances in the Chicago Fire Department, a position he held till his retirement in 1973. In 1959 McCarthy was honored by the Chicago Irish community by being named the Grand Marshal of their Saint Patrick’s Day Parade. Joseph McCarthy passed away on June 15, 1996. As one of his fellow Marines stated, “(McCarthy) was not a one-shot hero, he was a hero at every campaign and everything he did.”

Some altered their names like the ancestor of John Hancock who came from Co Down, and like Capt. Daniel Patrick and Robert Feake – first European settlers in what is now Greenwich, CT. They also settled in New Hampshire, where they founded the town of Concord; in Vermont, where their sons would lend strength to the Green Mountain Boys led by Irish-American John Stark and Limerick-born Matt Lyons; in New Hampshire where Capt. Maginnis commanded the militia; and other areas from Maine, home of the O’Briens who would capture the 1st British ship in the coming war, to Pennsylvania, founded by William Penn who had grown up in Co Cork. Philadelphia had a Hibernian Club as early as 1729; it later became the Friendly Sons of St Patrick, whose first President was none other than Stephen Moylan of Co Cork – soon to be one of Washington’s top Generals. In just 1772 and 1773, more than 18,500 Irish arrived and they were no friends of British colonialism.

When protest began about Crown usurpation of civil liberties the Irish were prominent. Among those killed in the Boston Massacre in 1770 was Irish-born Patrick Carr; Boston Tea Party participants met at an inn owned by a man named Duggan; and the tea was dumped at Griffin’s Wharf by a group dressed as Native Americans, some of whom had a notably Irish accent. While young Irishmen rushed to arms in support of Washington, Irish merchants participated in the deliberations of Councils and in Congress, raised money to feed and clothe the army and advance the credit of the new government. Irish-born Oliver Pollack personally raised over $300,000 which would be more than $8 million today.

On July 1, 1776, after a full year of hostilities, a resolution was presented to break with England and approval of the final draft of a document was made on the 4^th. The Philadelphia State House was packed as Secretary Charles Thomson of Co. Derry read the document explaining why their action was justified. After a full day of modifying copy, Secretary Thomson recorded the changes, and America’s Declaration of Independence was complete. Among the signers were 6 Irish-Americans and 3 native Irish including James Smith, Matthew Thornton and George Taylor who was also a Colonel in his local militia but, sadly, he died while still a delegate to the Continental Congress.

On July 8, the people first heard that historic document read by Col. John Nixon, son of an Irish immigrant from Wexford; it had been printed at great personal risk by Charles Dunlap of Co Tyrone. There would be many more years of struggle before the last battle was fought on March 10, 1783, but America had made her stand. The last battle, by the way, saw Irish-born John Barry defeat the British ship Sybil. He’d been carrying a cargo of gold with which Congress would establish the new Bank of North America with the help of Irish-born Thomas Fitzsimons.

Yes, the Irish were there at America’s birth and the fact that they made loyal Americans is evidenced in writing of Marquis de Chastellux who wrote after the revolution,

During the whole of the war, the English and Scots were treated with distrust even with the best of attachment for the cause, but the native of Ireland stood in need of no other certificate than his accent. While the Irish emigrant was fighting for America on land and sea, Irish merchant’s purses were always open and their persons devoted to the country’s cause, and on more than one imminent occasion Congress itself, and the very existence of America, owed its preservation to the fidelity and firmness of the Irish. Even President Washington wrote that the Irish need that critical moment to shake off the badges of slavery they have worn for so long.

It was perhaps best said by George Washington Parke Custis, grandson of the beloved first President. At a St. Patrick’s Day dinner in 1828, he said,

Ireland’s generous sons, alike in the day of our gloom, and of our glory, shared in our misfortunes and joined in our successes; With undaunted courage (they) breasted the storm which once threatened to overwhelm us; and with aspirations deep and fervent for our cause, whether in the shock of liberty’s battles, or in the feeble expiring accents of famine and misery, cried from their hearts God Save America. Then honored be the good old service of the sons of Erin in the war of Independence. Let the shamrock be entwined with the laurels of the Revolution, and truth and justice, guiding the pen of history, inscribe on the tablets of American remembrance ‘Eternal Gratitude to Irishmen.’

These are just a few examples of the Irish and Irish-Americans who made America great!

Mike McCormack, National Historian (originally publish 2017)

THIS IRISH AMERICAN HERITAGE MONTH PROFILE IS PRESENTED BY THE ANCIENT ORDER OF HIBERNIANS (AOH.COM)

#IrishAmericanHeritageMonth #EmbraceYourIrishHeritageAOH

At the 11^th hour of the 11^th day of the 11^th month of 1918, for the first time in over four years, the guns fell silent across the trenches that scarred the face of Europe during the First World War. America had been latecomers to the conflict but at a tremendous cost had tipped the scales in what had been a murderous stalemate. No division had sacrificed more than the 42nd Division, nicknamed the “Rainbow Division,” as it had been formed from National Guard Units whose origins stretched across the country. No unit in the Rainbow Division fought on more fronts, nor suffered more casualties, than the regiment that represented the green in that rainbow: the 165^th, the federal number assigned to the 69^th New York. It was the same New York 69^th that fifty years earlier, as a unit of the Irish Brigade, had been given the nickname of “the fighting 69th” as a tribute of respect by an enemy commander, Robert E. Lee. While the regimental number had changed, the unit and the New York Irish would once again prove worthy of that title, and no one was more responsible for the regiments unequaled record in WW I than Col. William “Wild Bill” Donovan.

Even before the war, William Joseph Donovan was a hero of Horatio Alger proportions. The grandson of immigrants from Skibbereen, Co Cork, he had literally been born on the wrong side of the tracks in Buffalo, New York. Yet, as typical of Irish immigrants, each generation was climbing the American dream’s long ladder. While Donovan’s grandfather had worked shoveling grain in the holds of ships, his father had risen to the influential position of yardmaster for the local railroad. Young William Donovan continued the trend, attending Columbia University, where he would earn a law degree. Donovan was a star quarterback of the Columbia football team in an age where amateur athletes were treated like today’s professional superstars.  It was here he earned the nickname “Wild Bill Donovan.” He returned to Buffalo, started a law practice, and married the daughter of the wealthiest man in Buffalo.

Yet, Donovan was not a man to rest on his success; his strong sense of duty and patriotism called him to seek an opportunity to serve his country. With several friends, Donovan formed a National Guard company of cavalry that served when the Army was mobilized to hunt for Pancho Villa. When the United States entered World War I, Donovan was called back to service and assigned as a Major to the 165^th regiment, the number given to the rechristened N.Y. 69^th which had won glory in the American Civil War as part of the “Irish Brigade”. He was a popular choice with the mostly Irish American regiment, particularly their Chaplin, Fr. Francis Duffy , who himself would win fame and honor with the regiment. Donovan applied the same tough discipline to his men’s training as he had experienced himself as an athlete on the playing field of Columbia, training his men would come to appreciate on the battlefields of France.

In France, at the river Ourcq, nicknamed by the Irish of the 165^th “the O’Rourke,” the 42^nd Division was ordered to cross the river and secure a ridge and farm on the other side. The position was believed to be “lightly held” when in fact they were being faced by three German Divisions, including one of elite Prussian Guards. Only Donovan’s 165^th managed to reach its objective, the units on the left and right having been pushed back. The result was the 165^th was cut off and subjected to machine gun and artillery fire on three sides. It was estimated that the Germans had one machine gun for four of Donovan’s men. Donovan and his men held their position for three days until the rest of the Division could reinforce the 165th but at a terrible cost: of the 3,000 men who entered the battle, 1,750 men and 66 officers were lost. Donovan himself was exposed to poison gas and wounded, yet still continued to lead his men. In one case, Donovan, without regard to danger, crossed open ground under heavy enemy fire to communicate coordinates for support artillery. For this action, Donovan was awarded the Distinguished Service Cross and promoted Lt. Colonel.

Tragically, these circumstances repeated themselves only a few months later when the 165^th was again asked to breach a line of German fortifications. Again, the 165th was going up against some of Germany’s best troops, not with the battle-hardened men they had lost at the Ourcq, but young and inexperienced replacements. Describing it as “foolish but necessary” to his wife in a letter written before the battle, Donovan put on his full regulation uniform and insignia. He knew that he would be a target for German snipers by so obviously identifying himself as a senior officer, but he also knew that his raw men needed to see him out in front. During the German attack, Donovan was severely wounded but continued to encourage his men and refused all attempts to evacuate him till the battle was over. For his actions, Donovan was awarded the Medal of Honor and became the most decorated soldier of WW I.

“They’re not going to see your faces, but they will never forget what you looked like.”

William Donovan

On arriving back in New York, Donovan and his men were honored with a parade down 5^th Avenue and, appropriate for the men of the 69^th/165^th, past St. Patrick’s Cathedral.  Donovan ordered his men to march wearing their steel helmets, ammunition boots with their weapons, rather than dress uniforms, saying, “They’re not going to see your faces, but they will never forget what you looked like.”  Donovan himself elected to march with his men rather than ride the traditional horse.  The regiment marched to the strains of the regimental march “Garryowen” to City Hall, where they were presented with “the freedom of the City.” Later that night in camp, Donovan heard some of his men singing “The Good Old Summer Time,” a tune which many of his men now buried in France, sang as they went up to the line for their first battle.  Donovan wept.

Despite having already accomplished enough to fill multiple lifetimes, history was still not done with “Wild Bill” Donovan. He would become a successful lawyer, federal prosecutor, and a confidant to Presidents for his clear and pragmatic thinking.  In the inter-war years, Donovan was often used as a presidential agent, especially when it came to foreign intelligence matters. In World War II, Donovan created the Office of Strategic Services, the O.S.S., the precursor to today’s C.I.A., and attained the rank of  Major General. After the war, he would assist in prosecuting Nazi war criminals at Nuremberg.

Little wonder that when informed that William Donovan had died peacefully after a life of honor and service to his country, then-President Eisenhower remarked, “What a man! We have lost the last hero.”

Neil F. Cosgrove  ©

On the surface, the brothers Thomas Addis Emmet and Robert Emmet were the most unlikely of revolutionaries. They were born (Thomas Addis 1764, Robert 1778) into an affluent family of Ireland’s Protestant ascendency. Their father was the State Physician of Ireland; firmly positioning the family as members of the British establishment. Yet the spirit of the enlightenment ran strong in the Emmet family; they were sympathetic to the struggle for independence of the American Colonies during the Revolutionary War and critics of the disenfranchisement and discrimination experienced by Catholics in their native Ireland.

Both brothers were gifted students and attended Trinity College. They both distinguished themselves for their gifts of eloquence in the College’s debating society. Robert was such an articulate and inspiring speaker that when a debate on the topic of Irish self-determination was scheduled, the school administration brought in their own outside debater in an unsuccessful attempt to undermine Robert Emmet from inspiring his fellow students.

Thomas Addis Emmet graduated Trinity and studied medicine before finding his true calling in law, being called to the Bar in 1790. He quickly established a reputation as a formidable lawyer, particularly in the defense of those charged with political offenses. A passionate believer in ending discrimination against Irish Catholics and extending to them a say in the rule of their own land by means of the vote, Thomas Addis soon became a leading figure in the United Irishman. Thomas Addis was a close associate of Wolfe Tone and both men had a tremendous influence on the young Robert Emmet. When the Dublin Corporation issued a declaration in support of the special privileges of the Protestant ascendancy in 1792, the response of the United Irishmen was their non-sectarian manifesto with Thomas Addis Emmet its principle author.

The actions of the Dublin Corporation convinced the United Irishmen that the only path open to a free Ireland, where all citizens had equal opportunity and voice in their government, was rebellion. Thomas Addis Emmet became a member of the executive of the United Irishman and contributor to the planning of the 1798 Rebellion, only to be betrayed shortly before the rising was to commence by British government informers who had infiltrated the movement. He was arrested and would be imprisoned until 1802; whereupon he went to Brussels in an attempt to lobby the French for support of a new rebellion that was being organized by his younger brother.

Robert Emmet was expelled from Trinity College because of his political views and soon became a leading figure in the United Irishmen in his own right. It was Robert who reorganized the United Irishmen after the failed 1798 and anticipating help from France began planning a new rebellion. Robert had learned well the lessons of the failed rebellion of ’98 and was able to maintain secrecy as regards to its preparations when an accidental explosion at one of the United Irishmen’ arms caches exposed their plans. Forced to launch the rebellion prematurely, it soon degenerated into failure and defeat.

While the 1803 Rebellion was a failure, the trial of Robert Emmet became a lasting, if costly, victory. As the administrators of Trinity College had done before, the British Government felt that Robert Emmet was too key a figure to the cause of Irish Independence to chance to a fair and independent trial. They secretly bribed his defense lawyer with £200 and an annual pension to ensure that a guilty verdict for treason was a foregone conclusion. The Crown though made one critical mistake; they let Robert Emmet speak and that speech has lit a fire in the heart of generations of Irish seeking a free and united Ireland. The closing sentence is the most ringing:

“Let no man write my epitaph; for as no man who knows my motives dare now vindicate them, let not prejudice or ignorance, asperse them. Let them and me rest in obscurity and peace, and my tomb remain uninscribed, and my memory in oblivion, until other times and other men can do justice to my character. When my country takes her place among the nations of the earth, then and not till then, let my epitaph be written. I have done.”

Robert Emmet was hung and then beheaded on September 20, 1803. In a twist of fate, his wish to lie in obscurity has been granted as his final burial place is still a mystery.

What became of Robert’s brother Thomas Addis Emmet? Heartbroken over his brother’s death and the two failed rebellions, he immigrated to America. His fame as a lawyer preceded him; he was personally invited to practice law in NY by Governor Dewitt Clinton who waived the residency requirements for him. He went on to a successful practice, eventually rising to New York State Attorney General. He was described as “the favorite counselor of New York” by members of the Supreme Court. He argued (and lost) the landmark United States Supreme Court case of Gibbons v. Ogden, which established the right of Congress to regulate interstate commerce.

Thomas Addis also left a legacy that has echoed down the generations, but of a different kind than his more famous brother Robert Emmet:

• One of his sons and grandsons became respected and influential jurists in their own right.
• Another son was appointed to the Chair of Natural Science of the University of Virginia by Thomas Jefferson.
• His Grandson, Dr. Thomas Addis Emmet was a noted physician and Irish American activist. Despite British opposition, upon his death his last wish “to rest in the land from which my family came” was honored and he is buried in Glasnevin Cemetery. The large Celtic cross over his grave just outside the visitors center was sculpted by the father of Padraig Pearse.
• Three great grand-daughters were noted artists.
• His great-grandson Robert Temple Emmet was a graduate of West Point who would go on to earn the Medal of Honor.
• Another great-grandson was a 4 time Pulitzer Prize winner, Robert Emmet Sherwood, who also won an Oscar for best screenplay for the movie “The Best Years or Our Lives’.

The difference between two nations could not be any clearer. In British ruled Ireland the only opportunity for a great Irishman was to be a martyr for independence; when given the freedom of America, the Irish and their children were able to achieve their full potential and repaid America many fold with the gifts of their energy and drive through the generations continuing to today.

Neil F. Cosgrove  ©