Read Online At My Mother's Knee by Paul O'Grady - Free Book Online
Authors: Paul O'Grady
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gunner
in the air force than it was getting caught in the crossfire of the
harpies who reigned over Holly Grove.
CHAPTER FOUR
M Y MUM MET MY DAD AT AN IRISH DANCE IN BIRKENHEAD . Like thousands of other young Irishmen and women
before him, Patrick Grady had arrived in Liverpool on the boat
from Dublin looking to make a new life. He was a handsome fellow,
tall and slim with wavy red hair and a jaunty smile. He could
whistle through his teeth, beat a tune out by snapping his fingers
on the back of his hand and charm the birds out of the trees.
My dad's father, also Patrick, had died of a heart attack
when he was only thirty years old. I have a copy of his
obituary from the local paper of 1912:
It is with feelings of deep regret that we have to announce the
sudden and unexpected death of Mr Patrick Grady, Glinsk ,
when just in the prime of life. The deceased was ailing for some
time in the month of November but seemed to have quite
recovered from the attack, as he was working up till the day he
died. He went to bed on Monday night in his usual health and
at six o'clock on the Tuesday morning, as he showed signs of
uneasiness, his wife spoke to him. He was unable to answer her
and passed away in a few minutes.
The deceased was a member of the Pollocks Estates
Committee and was on the committee of the Kilbegnet branch
of the United Irish League . He was an honest, straightforward and earnest worker in both. His death has come under very sad
circumstances. His principal desire from the time the sale of the
Pollock Estates was first spoken about was to see the poor
people taken from their miserable patches of bad land and
settled on the rich lands of Glinsk. He was the first to migrate
and got a good holding and nice house with offices, and was
getting on very well and improving it daily.
He was liked by everybody for his very kind disposition; he
was a most obliging neighbour, a good son and a kind husband.
He leaves a mother, a wife and two little children to mourn his
loss.
The funeral was by far the largest witnessed in this district
for years past.
The remains were borne to Kilbegnet burial ground, a distance
of over three miles, by twenty-four young men wearing
white sashes. To his sorrowing mother, wife and little children
we offer our deepest sympathy. May he rest in peace.
The United Irish League was a nationalist political party that
campaigned for the fair distribution of land to relieve the
plight of the peasant farmer. Its founder, William O'Brien ,
fought for the right of the tenant farmer to purchase his own
land. The lads in white sashes who bore the coffin no doubt
belonged to the UIL.
My grandfather Patrick Grady had married Bridget Brittain ,
better known as Biddy. They had two daughters and a son. Mary , nicknamed Mayo, was the first to arrive in November
1908, followed by Sarah-Ann or Sadie a year later. My grandfather
never saw his son Patrick. The widow Grady was two
months pregnant on that bitterly cold morning in January
when she stood by the graveside and buried her young
husband. She gave birth to Patrick seven months later, on 26
July 1912, with her mother-in-law acting as midwife.
After my grandfather died Biddy Brittain took stock. She was still young, an elegant woman who carried her height well,
with blue eyes, pale skin and a glossy mane of thick red hair
swept up into a bun on the top of her proud head. She had the
farm registered in her name and with the help of her late
husband's brother, James Grady , she managed to run it and
raise her family.
It was a time of political unrest for Ireland. The Easter
Rising had taken place in Dublin in 1916 and the cells of
Kilmainham Gaol were full of patriots, the walls in the
execution yard stained with their blood. By 1920 the first of
the hated Black and Tans had marched into Glinsk, their
orders to bring English law to the filthy peasants and to 'make
Ireland a hell for Rebels to live in'. There was a saying in
England's courtrooms at the time
in the air force than it was getting caught in the crossfire of the
harpies who reigned over Holly Grove.
CHAPTER FOUR
M Y MUM MET MY DAD AT AN IRISH DANCE IN BIRKENHEAD . Like thousands of other young Irishmen and women
before him, Patrick Grady had arrived in Liverpool on the boat
from Dublin looking to make a new life. He was a handsome fellow,
tall and slim with wavy red hair and a jaunty smile. He could
whistle through his teeth, beat a tune out by snapping his fingers
on the back of his hand and charm the birds out of the trees.
My dad's father, also Patrick, had died of a heart attack
when he was only thirty years old. I have a copy of his
obituary from the local paper of 1912:
It is with feelings of deep regret that we have to announce the
sudden and unexpected death of Mr Patrick Grady, Glinsk ,
when just in the prime of life. The deceased was ailing for some
time in the month of November but seemed to have quite
recovered from the attack, as he was working up till the day he
died. He went to bed on Monday night in his usual health and
at six o'clock on the Tuesday morning, as he showed signs of
uneasiness, his wife spoke to him. He was unable to answer her
and passed away in a few minutes.
The deceased was a member of the Pollocks Estates
Committee and was on the committee of the Kilbegnet branch
of the United Irish League . He was an honest, straightforward and earnest worker in both. His death has come under very sad
circumstances. His principal desire from the time the sale of the
Pollock Estates was first spoken about was to see the poor
people taken from their miserable patches of bad land and
settled on the rich lands of Glinsk. He was the first to migrate
and got a good holding and nice house with offices, and was
getting on very well and improving it daily.
He was liked by everybody for his very kind disposition; he
was a most obliging neighbour, a good son and a kind husband.
He leaves a mother, a wife and two little children to mourn his
loss.
The funeral was by far the largest witnessed in this district
for years past.
The remains were borne to Kilbegnet burial ground, a distance
of over three miles, by twenty-four young men wearing
white sashes. To his sorrowing mother, wife and little children
we offer our deepest sympathy. May he rest in peace.
The United Irish League was a nationalist political party that
campaigned for the fair distribution of land to relieve the
plight of the peasant farmer. Its founder, William O'Brien ,
fought for the right of the tenant farmer to purchase his own
land. The lads in white sashes who bore the coffin no doubt
belonged to the UIL.
My grandfather Patrick Grady had married Bridget Brittain ,
better known as Biddy. They had two daughters and a son. Mary , nicknamed Mayo, was the first to arrive in November
1908, followed by Sarah-Ann or Sadie a year later. My grandfather
never saw his son Patrick. The widow Grady was two
months pregnant on that bitterly cold morning in January
when she stood by the graveside and buried her young
husband. She gave birth to Patrick seven months later, on 26
July 1912, with her mother-in-law acting as midwife.
After my grandfather died Biddy Brittain took stock. She was still young, an elegant woman who carried her height well,
with blue eyes, pale skin and a glossy mane of thick red hair
swept up into a bun on the top of her proud head. She had the
farm registered in her name and with the help of her late
husband's brother, James Grady , she managed to run it and
raise her family.
It was a time of political unrest for Ireland. The Easter
Rising had taken place in Dublin in 1916 and the cells of
Kilmainham Gaol were full of patriots, the walls in the
execution yard stained with their blood. By 1920 the first of
the hated Black and Tans had marched into Glinsk, their
orders to bring English law to the filthy peasants and to 'make
Ireland a hell for Rebels to live in'. There was a saying in
England's courtrooms at the time
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