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‘Mrs O’Connor is using that dam hairdryer again’ said my mother as the black and white TV looked like a snow storm yet again. Mrs O’Connor had one of those dryers that involved her sitting with a cap over her hair with a tube attached to a machine and as she was our next door neighbor was routinely blamed every time the TV set had major interrupted service. Grandpa called for a lemon tea and three lumps of sugar which I was too young to make but was allowed to carry into the living room. The weak tea was made in a glass which sat into a holder with a handle and I carried it into him with the sugar lumps on a small tray. He made the familiar slurping sound as he took a lump of sugar in his mouth and sucked the tea through it. ‘How did you get to Ireland Grandpa’ I asked. I came with my family and we traveled in the hold of a big ship’ he said. How long did the journey take and how old were you and what did you eat on the journey’...the questions tumbled out one after another. Grandpa didn’t know how old he had been but we guessed he was about my age when the family made the three week journey from Lithuania to Ireland at the end of the last century. He told me that his mother brought a big barrel of salt herrings and black bread and that is what they ate in the hold of the ship until they arrived into Cork harbor. He also told me that as a little boy in Lithuania it was his job along with the other boys from the village to sit on a hill top and watch for horse’s hooves in the distance. If they spotted them they would have to run fast so the town’s people could barricade themselves into their homes and the women could hide from the soldiers who were coming to make trouble.
At the breakfast table the following day the talk was all about the Bank in Templeogue village that had been robbed. Dad said he was pretty sure it was an IRA job. Later on in the morning I sat in the kitchen and watched Mum load the slack into the big boiler in the kitchen. The slack kept the coal in and made it go further she said as she proceeded with her next job which was she to boil the nappies in a big pot on the cooker
Mrs Mac, our housekeeper came in and changed into her uniform, a black dress with a white apron over it. She wore her hair in a net and I loved those nets. They were interspersed with little colored beads and if I was good, as a special treat she would bring me one as a present. They were wrapped in a little tissue and plastic wrapper and I carefully saved each one in the cupboard under the sink in my bedroom. I don't remember ever wearing them I just marveled at the little beads. As she set the fire in the living room I looked out and noticed a Garda standing right at our front gate. ‘Will I go and offer him a cup of tea’ I asked Mrs Mac. Ah go on then, ask him if he takes sugar and milk with it and I’ll make it for you to take out to him. I hopped and skipped down the drive to the Garda on duty and asked whether he would like a cup of tea. When enough pleasantries had passed between us I got to the important questions. ‘What are you doing here’? ‘There was a robbery last night in Templeogue’ he answered. ‘I heard that’, I said. ‘We’re trying to catch the robbers’, he said. ‘I might be able to help you with that’, I said. ‘My Daddy knows who did it’. As soon as the words were out of my mouth I knew I had made some sort of terrible mistake. The Garda seemed to grow into a giant even as the words slipped out and was now glaring down at me with an inquisitive stare that would cut a stone in two. ‘Does he now’? he said.
I didn’t eat my supper that evening and Mummy said to Mrs Mac that maybe I was coming down with something. When Daddy came home from work later the Garda along with a second one for backup arrived at the door for a little chat. I didn’t get to hear what the conversation was because I ran to Grandpa’s room as soon as I saw the blue uniforms through the frosted front door glass. A little while later I heard Daddy and Mummy laughing as I crept to the top of the stairs and I knew all would be well in the world again.
* Garda are Irish Police
* Templeogue was our local Village in Dublin pronounced Temple oh..g
Comment
this should be marked "to be continued"!
Interesting Nicky. I don't know specifically why my grandparents came here either.
Many of the Jews thought they were in the US when they disembarked in Ireland. Others had heard from family members that had arrived earlier that Ireland was a safe country to come to and followed them here. I'm not sure which one of these explanations I fall into!
Oh, I love this story. I remember your Sunday Musings and am glad you posted another - even if it isn't Sunday.
Also, your grandparents could have ended up in the US like so many of ours did. I wonder why they chose Ireland.
Also, your grandparents could have ended up in the US like so many of ours did. I wonder why they chose Ireland.
That's some great story telling, Nicky. It does make you sound even older than me which is impossible: ) But I often think now of the antiquated ways we did things and wonder if all our gadgets make life better or not. But if nor for my computer and the internet I would never have "known" you : )
What a wonderful story!
Good story. Thanks for sharing.
You are a very talented writer! Keep is coming, please, please!
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