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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all this, the children could get their bowl of “stir-about,” a
sort of porridge, and then head off to school. God help you
if you were late.
Lunch would be bread and butter from home and a
bottle of milk. When the children got home there were
more chores. Aunt Ann remembered the boys would collect
barrels of water from the Bulkhaun River to bring back to
the farm. Some animals could be walked to the river for
watering. In October, the potatoes were dug up. No one was
excused from this assignment. Children would often be
kept home from school to help pick the spuds. The potatoes
were stored in a long heap and covered with straw to
protect them from frost and other elements. Homework
would often have to be finished by the light of a coal-oil
lamp. The next day, the process would start all over again.
Sometime during the 1920s, Uncle Pete joined his
brother John working at the close-by St. Joseph’s Convent,
also known as the Convent of Mercy. Uncle Pete growing
up had always had an affinity for “Convent” strawberries.
They were sweet and free to any lad who had the temerity
to hop the stone wall between the convent and Gallagher
properties and not be noticed by parents or nuns. Another
adventure at the convent occurred one Ash Wednesday.
Uncle Pete was given his list of daily jobs early in the
morning by Mother Superior, along with the admonition,
“Be sure and get your ashes.” He made the quick
calculation that God would be more forgiving for the ashes
than Sister would if he didn’t complete the jobs. He went to
the boiler room and got his own ashes.
Uncle Pete must have decided very early that his
future was in America. He probably resolved to make the
journey shortly after his sister Delia left Ireland in October
1924. He likely would have had to start the paperwork
when he was 17 or 18. He must have been terribly excited
as he traveled to Dublin to get his visa in January 1927.
After submitting the required paperwork and passing his
physical, his visa was awarded Jan. 27. Uncle Pete was
now ready for the start of the 1927 seasonal service for
various steamship lines between Ireland and America. The
Cunard Line had 79 trips scheduled for the ’27 season.
Uncle Pete booked passage on the first steamer Cunard had
scheduled, the RMS Laconia.
With the passage set, the waiting must have been
excruciating. He left for Cobh only a few days after his
19th birthday. Even the train ride was an adventure. There
was not a direct train from Ballinrobe to Cobh. Uncle Pete
first would have traveled on the line to Claremorris, 14
miles from Ballinrobe. From there, he needed to travel at
least 160 miles to Cobh in County Cork. It would have
Uncle Pete with his sister Nora, probably when he and
Aunt May made a 1933 visit back to Ballinrobe to
announce their upcoming wedding.
entailed at least 20 stops and maybe a connection or two.
The journey would have taken at least 12 hours.
On Sunday morning April 24, 1927, 250
passengers joined Uncle Pete in boarding the Laconia in
Cork Harbor. The weather was cloudy and threatening, with
a strong breeze. The seas were rough as they left port.
There had actually been two ships christened the
RMS Laconia. The first, built in 1911, was converted to a
troop ship in WWI. It was sunk by a German U-Boat on
Feb. 25, 1917, just off Fastnet, the southern tip of Ireland.
The attack increased outrage in America against the
Germans. Uncle Pete’s Laconia, built in 1921, was also
eventually turned into a troop ship for WWII. It also was
sunk by a German submarine, on Sep. 12, 1942. More than
1,600 died, many of them Italian prisoners of war. The
attempted rescue of the survivors in the second incident
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