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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Uncle Jim reads the Sunday comics with his boys in 1962 in the
living room at Sycamore Street. At left are St. Thomas school
pictures of Pat, Owen and Margaret from 1970. At right are
their high school graduation photos from 1977, 1978 and 1981.
and 1970s, Wilmington required city firefighters and police
to live within city limits, resulting in many public servants
finding a home in Union Park Gardens, which was as far
away from downtown as city residents could get.
As children, Pat, Owen and Margaret played with
the neighborhood kids, went to the neighborhood Catholic
school (St. Thomas the Apostle) and made their sacraments
at the neighborhood church (also St. Thomas). Pat and
Owen were altar boys and knew every inch of the church,
including the maintenance crawl spaces below the stainedglass
windows and behind the radiators. Aunt Catherine ran
the library at St. Thomas Elementary School while her
children were there. And she was good friends with all the
Franciscan nuns, especially Principal Sr. Angela Patrice.
Those ties made sure her kids were on their best behavior.
They would walk to and from school every day ... up hill
both ways, of course. Union Park Gardens and the
surrounding areas were filled with children. The family
would picnic at Brandywine Springs and Lums Pond and
sometimes take day trips to Gettysburg or Fort Delaware.
But the trip looked forward to the most every year was to
Wildwood-By-The-Sea at the New Jersey shore.
The family would ride over the Delaware
Memorial Bridge to the beach the week before the Fourth
of July; the weather would be warm by then and the hotel
rates would not go up until the holiday week when the
crowds grew.
You always knew you were getting close to the
entrance to Wildwood on Rio Grande Avenue when you
could smell the ocean. It was the greatest smell in the
world. Uncle Jim and Aunt Catherine were always frugal.
In the early years, they would not rent a hotel in advance.
Rather, Uncle Jim would park the car and walk around until
he found a suite at a price he liked. Later, the family
became fond of the Charles Apartments, and Aunt
Catherine started renting a place there in advance.
Whatever the accommodations, they were always on the
south side of Fun Pier. The family would be on the beach
early and stay most of the day. Aunt Catherine would pack
a lunch and snacks. Uncle Jim's experience carrying sacks
of turf back in the bogs of Ireland must have helped him as
his job turned to lugging toys, chairs, towels and umbrellas
back and forth each day. Uncle Jim, who always kept well
covered from the sun, did get to listen on the beach to Jim
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