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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Aunt Mary with a friend at one of the stone walls around Cornaroya, probably sometime in
the 1940s.
which not much is known. She was employed doing “office
work,” but details are lost to time. There would be times
when a letter from Mary would arrive for her brothers and
sisters in America. Usually it was Aunt Nora who would
write, so a letter from Mary was always an event. Calls
would be made to announce the letter’s arrival, and the
excitement could drive conversation for weeks.
Communication across the ocean got a boost
around 1985, when Aunt Mary got a telephone in her home.
Long-distance calls were not that common, but when
contact was made, Aunt Ann and Uncles Tom and Jim
would often be together, taking turns to chat with their
sister.
Even with the phone, letters were not completely
abandoned. One arrived for Uncle Jim at Christmas time in
1990. In it, Aunt Mary apologized for not communicating
recently because of an accident that “put her out of action”
for several months. “Believe it or not, I fell in my own
living room,” she wrote. Mary said she broke a bone in her
wrist, but there is no evidence of the injury in her still
beautiful penmanship. The letter also shares her hope that
Uncle Jim’s sons are not “called up” for service in the Gulf.
“None of us want a war,” she related, as a coalition of
forces was preparing for Operation Desert Storm in
response to Iraq’s invasion of Kuwait.
Another letter that Uncle Jim kept, from 10 years
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