The Gallaghers of Ballinrobe
IN MARCH 2020, Pat Gallagher had an idea. He asked his brother, Owen, what he thought of writing a book about the family of their father, James Gallagher, who grew up in the early decades of the 20th century in the West of Ireland in the small town of Ballinrobe, County Mayo. The shutdown from COVID-19 was just beginning, and the thinking was they would have more time on their hands than usual. What better way to spend quarantine than exploring the stories of our aunts, uncles and other relatives. The task turned out to be much more complicated (and rewarding) than anticipated. It involved sifting through ship manifests, census, birth and marriage records, newspaper archives, and, most enjoyable, sessions delving into the memories of extended-family members. Sorely missed was the chance to hear first-hand the tales from our deceased cousins John O'Brien and Pete Gallagher. This book's stories and more than 500 images are the result of the past year's journey. The goal was both simple and ambitious: making the memories of the Gallaghers of Ballinrobe ours forever.
IN MARCH 2020, Pat Gallagher had an idea. He asked his brother, Owen, what he thought of writing a book about the family of their father, James Gallagher, who grew up in the early decades of the 20th century in the West of Ireland in the small town of Ballinrobe, County Mayo. The shutdown from COVID-19 was just beginning, and the thinking was they would have more time on their hands than usual. What better way to spend quarantine than exploring the stories of our aunts, uncles and other relatives.
The task turned out to be much more complicated (and rewarding) than anticipated. It involved sifting through ship manifests, census, birth and marriage records, newspaper archives, and, most enjoyable, sessions delving into the memories of extended-family members. Sorely missed was the chance to hear first-hand the tales from our deceased cousins John O'Brien and Pete Gallagher. This book's stories and more than 500 images are the result of the past year's journey. The goal was both simple and ambitious: making the memories of the Gallaghers of Ballinrobe ours forever.
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“I remember when I was a child,” Aunt Nora
wrote in 1979. “It was the few days before (Christmas) I
used to enjoy. Not that I ever got any gifts for Christmas. It
was just the fun I had with my sisters and brothers. And
believe me, Patsy, that was fun and happiness nothing like
it since.”
FIDDLIN’ DAN
The Gallagher brothers of Ballinrobe had a talent
for teasing – of both the family and outsiders. Cousins from
America might be subjected to a few comments on the
fancy clothing an aunt made them wear. Their sister Delia
would never be allowed to forget her cousin Sarah once
asking her, “Is it your brown shoes you’d be wearing?”
Another target, who started as an outsider but would
become like another brother, was Patrick “Paddy” Murphy,
whose family came from near Lough Mask.
Pat Murphy, it seems, had somewhat of a
fascination for fiddle music, which led to the sobriquet
“Fiddlin’ Dan” being bestowed on him by some of Nora's
brothers, including Uncle Jim. Sometime in the years
before he married Aunt Nora, Pat was one of two men hired
to work for Jack Moran, a friend of the Gallaghers. Uncle
Tom said Pat and Jack were related, probably cousins. The
Moran house is only a short walk from the boreen in
Cornaroya. The two-story home on the Convent Road was
a place the Gallaghers, Jack Moran and Pat Murphy would
meet to play cards or take advantage of the home's
impressive library. The Morans also had a gramophone,
which held a particular attraction for Pat Murphy.
There is an often-recorded Irish song “The Stone
Outside Dan Murphy’s Door.” Though there are those who
question its authorship, it is generally acknowledged the
song was written in the nineteenth century by Johnny
Patterson about his young days being raised by his uncle in
the town of Ennis, County Clare. The song looks back
nostalgically on the stone bench outside the shop run by
one Dan Murphy. The town’s children would gather there
after a day’s work. The chorus goes: “Dan Murphy would
take down his fiddle/ While his daughter looked after the
store/ The music did ring and sweet songs we would sing/
On the stone outside Dan Murphy’s door.”
The Moran house included a record of the song,
which Pat Murphy enjoyed. The brothers Gallagher
apparently saw enough of a connection to start referring to
him as “Fiddlin’ Dan.”
There’s no one remaining who remembers if the
nickname came before or after Pat Murphy married Nora
on Jan. 31, 1948. But the nickname’s staying power was
Aunt Nora is with her young sisters Ann, left, and Mary
in the late 1920s or early '30s.
strong enough to cause a little confusion when Nora’s
widower of 12 years died in April 1992. When Uncle Jim’s
son Pat told his cousin Patsy the sad news, he apparently
referred to their uncle as Fiddlin’ Dan. Pasty had never
heard the nickname, which Uncle Jim had often used for
his brother-in-law. Uncle Jim’s wife, Aunt Catherine, would
identify him on the back of photos as “Dan Murphy.”
Intrigued, Patsy did some digging about the name and was
able to get Aunt Ann and Uncle Tom to tell the story of the
song “The Stone Outside Dan Murphy’s Door” and the
Gallagher brothers using it to coin their pet name for Pat
Murphy.
“Whatever the name he was known by (to) those
close to him,” Patsy wrote to Uncle Owen at the time, “the
regard for the man was warm and special so much so that
even those of us here across the ocean who never knew the
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