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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Lynn Gallagher has her picture taken on the steps of the Convent of Mercy with an Owen Gallagher on each
side. The nun who took the photo had poor eyesight, but she did a great job of focusing this day in 1993.
them in his usual well-worn woolen cap with his one-eyed
dog Prince beside him. Following is the entry from
their journal that day:
“There were a number of times during our visits
with Uncle Owen when we wished we had a tape recorder
to preserve some of the wit, humor and wisdom that he
shared with us. Now was one of those times. He told us
how he thought we made the right decision by coming to
Ireland now rather than putting it off for a year or so, when
we might be restricted by money, children or some other
circumstances. In a way so profound it’s a shame we can’t
remember it word-for-word, he told us that too often we
don’t take the time to live the moment while we have the
opportunity. Instead, we let it slip away, never to have the
same chance again. Just the night before, we had talked
about how he regretted never getting the chance to sit down
and talk over so many things with his brother Jim.
“Uncle Owen was very open and gracious when
Lynn gave him a kiss just as we were leaving, but it seemed
hard for him to look us in the eyes. … As we turned the car
around and drove away, Uncle Owen stood in the road with
Prince and waved until we drove out of sight up the
Convent Road. We had to pull over in town just to calm
ourselves from the emotional parting. Lynn wondered what
Uncle Owen would do for the rest of the day.”
NOT AN ENDING
When Uncle Owen died on Feb. 8, 1999, he left
his home to Peter and Maureen Gallagher, made provisions
for Mary in England, and donated a substantial sum to both
the church and the sisters at the Convent of Mercy.
For someone who faced an immense challenge in
living up to the high standards set by his brothers and
sisters, Uncle Owen had managed to carve out an important
place in the extended Gallagher family. Patsy DeAscanis
remembered one connection she counts among her most
wonderful moments.
She received a phone call one day and was
surprised to hear Uncle Jim’s son Pat on the other end of
the line. “Aren’t you in Ireland?” she asked. Pat said yes he
was and that he had someone who wanted to speak with
her. Over the phone came a familiar cadence that Patsy
recognized, particularly from her Uncles Jim and Pat. In retelling
the story, Patsy raised her voice to re-create the
declaration she said came “roaring across the Atlantic
Ocean.” It was Uncle Owen telling her: “PAT-SY, I love
you for your Mother’s sake.”
It was the first time Patsy had heard her uncle’s
voice. It’s a voice that resounds today.
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