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Ireland Roots Trip, 2002
After about 20
minutes, a car came down the driveway. It wasn’t Anne, but John’s wife in
a mad rush. She was caught up in a Monday after being out of town for the
weekend. Her son, Rory, was timid as she frustrated invited us in. She
put on tea and cut cookies for us as she desperately tried to collect
herself.
She asked us back for
diner, but our plans were set on Limerick for the evening. Billy talked
his way into her heart in those 30 minutes, and when it was time to pick
up her next child from school, she asked us to call in advance next time,
and to follow her down to the gravestone where our great-great-great
grandparents were buried.
It was raining lightly
as Rory, John’s wife, and her eldest daughter stood beside Amy, Bill, and
me in front of the headstone where my great-great grandfather was buried.
The image was powerful, black. It was difficult to make out the
inscription, and we all fought to read it aloud. I started to copy it
down as the sun made its presence again.
Bill and John’s wife
continued to connect pieces of our genetic mystery on that side of the
equation. The new piece of evidence, my great-grandfathers real mom was
not married into the family. Yes, PA’s father was born out of wedlock, and
is a half-brother to his only sibling Martin. Pa’s grandmother was from
the McGrath clan. The next visit will no doubt reveal all sorts of
unexposed roots to this mossy family tree.
As the sun came out,
the headstone became more readable, so I scribbled down its inscription.
It reads of this date.
Erected by Philip Stokes of Ballingarry, in memory of his beloved wife
Margaret Stokes, alias Grace, who departed this life January 10th,
1812, aged 40 years – much respected by her acquaintances – deeply
regretted by her friends. Also the above Philip Stokes, who died 13th
March 1859, aged 70 years old. Richard Stokes died 8 February – 1916 aged
71 years. Johanna (nee) McGrath died 16” May 1916 aged ’73 years – Annie
(nee) Tobin died 12” April 1039 aged 56 years – Martin Stokes died 15” Oct
– 1959 aged 77 years – Josephine Hayes (nee) Stokes died 16” Dec 1993 aged
73 years – Her husband James (Jim) Hayes died 19 Feb 2000 aged 81 years –
May their souls rest in peace, Amen.
John’s wife and the
kids needed to push on, so goodbyes were said and promises were made for
our next visit. We took a few seconds to memorize Ballingarry before we
blasted out of town. Curious, embraced and completely satisfied that we
saw the farm, and burial grounds of our great-great grandparents, we
headed to Limerick.
The road too Limerick
was long. We bounced and winded around small country roads for about an
hour or so until we hit Cashel again. There we were, stones throw form
many of the O’Brien’s, but we had to push on.
We stopped in Cashel
only long enough to buy some souvenirs and eat a nice home cooked meal at
the Hunter’s Daughter. From there we went to Limerick, where we spent far
too much time trying to find our B&B. “Ivan’s Cross at the roundabout,
can’t miss it.” No street names anywhere in Ireland, nowhere! Just
roundabouts and landmarks.
We had barely put our
bags down when Ann O’Brien (now married) picked us up, and drove us to her
house for tea. There we meet her somber but charismatic husband Michael.
He too was a farmer, he grew grass. He also sat on the board of an
international food conglomerate, was well versed in politics, and had many
interesting insights on life, and George W. Bush. We sat and talked with
Ann and Michael for quite a while about our careers, genealogy, politics,
and the like. We had more sandwiches and tea, and when their youngest
daughter, aged 21, arrived, a birthday cake came out of the kitchen and
the whole house sang happy birthday to me. It was my 31st
birthday. It was a very sweet gesture.
 
We left their home after
a series of pictures around the fireplace, and were dropped off around
midnight back at our B&B. We took the next 2-hours to shuffle our
plans, made phone calls, and eventually packed Amy and Billy for a 4 a.m.
departure back to Sweden. We wanted to stay together in Ireland
longer with all our hearts, but “this trip was just a quick survey, a
passing of the torch to the next generation of Stokes,” as Billy put it.
We hugged goodbye in
the early hours of September 10th, my birthday. It was a long
goodbye. I was sad to see my traveling partners leave. It felt like a
part of me was going away, and it was. But I also felt completely
satisfied by the new understanding I had of who I was, and where I had
come from.
We have a rich Irish
heritage deeply rooted in the Earth, and in good people. It was a
brilliant trip. I can’t wait to return again.
After Amy and Bill
left Ireland, I had a few days to travel on my own. I visited the Cliffs
of Moher, and drove through the vast oceanic terrain of the coast.
 
The highlight of the
day was driving up the long coastline after a quick stop at an old seaside
graveyard. Along the road, I could see up ahead of me where the rain had
stopped.
A beautiful rainbow
made its presence in the afternoon coming out over the water. It was
something to remember.
I was lost in Gaulway
for three hours before I found my B&B. During the process, I stopped at
Nellie Burke’s tavern for a pint of Carlsberg, and a few glimpses of the
blue-collar Irish life. It was an amazing cultural experience.
I drove through the
west city and got a taste of the west coast life. It was eerie to be in
the land where the Burke’s hailed from. I wished that I had a shread of
evidence to connect me to my family on my father’s side. Another time, I
kept telling myself. I’ll have to save that one for another time.
The next morning I
woke early and made my way back the Dublin to catch a flight to London. As
I drove down five hours of country road, I thought about my Stokes family
back in America, and somehow it all made sense to me. I had found a
missing piece to my identity, my roots. I hope you all get a chance to
make the trip yourselves someday. It is well worth the adventure.
Hope you've enjoyed the trip. Wish you were there too!
Love,
Danny Burke
View all of the photos!
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