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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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later became known as the Laconia Incident. Uncle Pete’s

voyage, thankfully, was relatively uneventful.

AMERICA

Eight days after leaving Cobh, the Laconia sailed

into New York harbor on May 2 and docked on the west

side of Manhattan. On their way in, Uncle Pete and the

other passengers probably caught a view of the stranded

U.S. Navy Dreadnought Colorado, which was grounded for

at least 36 hours on a sandbar just off Governors Island.

Less than three weeks later, Charles Lindbergh

would take off from New York on his historic flight to

Paris. But the big headline this day in New York was in the

sports section. Babe Ruth had swatted two home runs and

Lou Gehrig one as the Yankees defeated the Philadelphia

A’s, taking over first place in the American League. The

“Murderers Row” Yankees would go down as one of the

greatest teams in baseball history, winning 110 games and

the World Series. Babe Ruth would hit a then-record 60

home runs; Lou Gehrig added 47. Unbeknownst to Uncle

Pete, his relatives the Sheridans of Philadelphia were big

Philadelphia A’s fans, especially Aunt Annie. She loved

“Mr. (Connie) Mac,” the team owner and manager. Uncle

Pete’s daughter Mary can remember Aunt Annie sitting in

her room on Green Street listening to A’s games on an old

radio sitting atop a marble-topped dresser.

Mary remembers her father saying his sister Delia

met him at the train station when he arrived in America.

The Laconia docked at the pier at 14th Street, so the train

was probably at Penn Station, at 34th Street. The walk of

20 or more blocks up Eighth or Ninth Avenue must have

been a surreal experience for someone who had spent his

previous 18 years living in a thatched cottage along an

unpaved road in rural Ireland. No skyscrapers there. He had

arrived in New York with only $25 in his wallet, probably

one suitcase and a wool suit. The weather was comfortably

warm that day, in the mid-60s, about 10 degrees above the

average daily high for the time.

Soon after meeting Aunt Delia, the brother and

sister boarded a train to Philadelphia. There, Uncle Pete

stayed with his Aunt Esther Sheridan and her two sons,

Francis and John, at 2105 Mount Vernon St. Francis and

John would have been in their early 20s, about four and

five years older than Pete. Also close in age nearby were

Tom, Ed and Joe Duffy. They were the children of Anna

(Larner) Duffy, Aunt Esther’s sister. The Mount Vernon

address was about four blocks from Aunt Catherine

(Sheridan) Mitchel’s home at 1740 Green St. She was

His 1933 U.S. passport photo shows Uncle Pete as he

looked heading to Ireland for a two-and-a-half-month

visit.

living there with two of her children, George and Anna, and

Aunt Hanna Sheridan. Aunt Catherine and Aunt Hanna

were sisters of Uncle Pete’s mother. Aunt Esther was the

wife of his mother’s brother Ed, who had passed away in

1921. The Roaring 20s would have been an exciting time

for young men such as Uncle Pete, the Sheridans and the

Duffys to come of age. Uncle Pete certainly embraced his

new country. He became a U.S. citizen as soon as he was

eligible – five years after becoming a resident. He was

naturalized Dec.12, 1932.

Uncle Pete soon found employment at the

Christian Brother’s Academy in Merion on the Main Line,

in suburban Philadelphia. Soon after starting, his supervisor

asked him if he was able to drive a tractor. This was a step

up from the typical ass-and-cart transportation in

Cornaroya. Nonetheless, Uncle Pete, always ready for an

adventure and never afraid to try something new, assured

his employers he could. His first time out, he promptly

crashed it into a tree. But he quickly got the hang of it. He

soon bought his first car, an Essex, and, naturally, paid

cash. Uncle Pete did not have any run-ins with trees in his

Essex, a relatively small, affordably priced car built by the

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