Map of 2012 trip

reflections, stories and gratitude

September 2, 2012

I have just returned to Canada from my trip to Ireland with Matt. It was a great experience that far exceeded my hopes. It was great to travel with Matthew and he was very tolerant/accepting of my idiosyncrasies. Thank you Matt.

I have made a point of not reading the blog while on route and just completed reading it now for the first time. I was very impressed by Matt's writing and it is interesting to discover his perspective of things. I was moved by the experience. There are many experiences that we did not share as they were personal and private. I believe that the trip solidified the bond between us. Matt, I am proud of the role that played in your creation and thereby help make the world a better place. I love you.

I also want to say a few words about family history and stories that I have gleaned from my conversations with relatives.

The property in Glenmaquin (the Hill)(on border of Creggan postal district) was bought by Hetheringtons in 1850. During the period, 1850 to late 1960's (when it was sold to Mr. Olsen) the hill was populated by a number of families, namely the “Johnstons, McCleans and Hetheringtons”. These families tended to be quite poor, and most socializing and marriages were with people who lived in close proximity. As a result The Creggan/Glenmaquin area was populated by a small number of families who were highly interconnected by blood and marriage.

According to Tommy Johnson (he is the husband of my aunt Eileen)(see: video) The Johnstons, McCleans, and Hetherington's had historical relationships going back to the time of Cormwell. The Hetherington's were associated with supplying the Cromwell's army and (in addition to military service) worked as bakers and butchers etc., After the plantation period they were employed as stone masons, builders and labours. Documents from the period note my grandparents as labourers.

The Johnstons were originally Scot's from Aberdeen (I think) the Hetherington's from Northumberland. (secondary reference: Steel Bonnets reveivers from Hethersgil). The Johnston's tended to be farmers and landowners and bought a plot of 60 acres at the time of plantation. This eventually subdivided among between three Johnston owners. In 1850 the Hetheringtons (who had some sort of traditional relationship with the Johnstons) bought the top 2.5 acres of this plot. In the early 1900' s there were at least 6 inter-related residences on or near this original 60 acres. As David put it – you were limited when the “only women you could marry were within walking distance.”

One often told story from this period was about the drainage dyke that Williams James (who lived with my grandparents) dug “aye – he was a great man with a shovel”.

Most immediate Hetherington ancestors left the hill in the 1960's and are buried in Whitechurch cemetery in Ards (near Newtonards). There are several references to the name at St. Eunnan's in Raphoe. Although the relationship the Hetherington's in the graveyard of this Church is not clear, they are undoubtedly related. The most confirmed relational presence at St. Eunnan's is that of Nathaniel Heatherington who is noted on the wall as victim of WWI. Apparently, he died in November 1914 in Belgium and his name also appears on the monument at Ypres.

The property is located at the end of L1017 (I think this is the correct number). Andrew Hetherington told me that his dad (Johnston) would often go camping on the land there in the summer. Andrew has given me directions on how to get there that I have saved in a separate file. It is difficult to find as all the fields look the same. In brief, once you are at the point that the 1017 ends you are more less required to cross several muddy marsh, moss and heather fields. Once on the property, there is an old hawthrone tree growing next to a pile of dirt (which is the bulldozed pile of rubble that was the old house). Also near the pile is an old oak tree. The property has a great view (it is at the top of the hill) to the north lies the Letterkenny valley, to the south east the Donegal town gap, the south west Beltany Celtic stone circle on a neighbouring hill top.

The house had a thatched roof and three connected parts: a cow shed, an living area, a bed room. There was also and outhouse and up stream a water well. The house was heated by a peat fire which would always have a kettle on the boil. The kettle or pot would be suspended over the fire on a swinging L pole that allowed it to turned out of the fire when needed. Such as system was also used to cook the famous Irish stew.

The house is now a pile of rubble over grown with grass. There several pictures on record of when it was still standing, This time we took pictures of Matt, David Johnston (who lives in the family home) and I standing on the rubble pile. David was also very kind to show us around and help arrange things. After the tour we met Tommy Johnston and we drove around to visit the school that my dad attended.

The story about the sale of land in the mid 1960's is something like this: my after my grandparents and William James left for Newtownards and died, my dad wanted to form a sort of family trust and keep the land in the family for recreational use. To accomplish this would have meant putting ownership in a single name and the family group paying annual taxes etc. My father did research in Dublin to try to get this to happen but died before the project could be completed. The land was subsequently sold and profits divided. I have in my procession two artifacts that I got from the house in 1964. They are a hand bell and a potato masher.

One story from the early days on the Hill was that seamstress women would walk 15 miles to Derry to pick up shirt pieces (Derry was a textile centre) that they would sew together into garments at home for cash. On day a McClean girl was walking back from Derry with a heavy load of material when she saw an apparition blocking her path. The girl noticed that the apparition had nice shoes on while she had almost no footwear. She said: “you have better shoes that I do I'll not get out of your way!” and proceeded to walk through the apparition. When she did she heard the apparition say she'd best take care because she would be attacked by wild dogs (they roamed the country at the time). Sure enough the next day she was attacked and was only saved when a farmer helped her into his cart and beat off the dogs with horse whip.

The McCleans seemed to have musical flair and it said that they could play a tune after hearing it only once. They played the pipes and a number of other traditional instruments. Mosey McClean was especially well thought. The story is that he was drowned after jumping or being robbedépushed off the Tower Bridge in London. His two sons also drowned in what appears to be a suicide in Scotland some years later.

Apparently Mosey liked to drink and one night on the way back from the pub in Raphoe he managed to capture a “wee folk” who lived in the roots of a hawthorn tree. As is the custom, Mosey was able to obtain a pocket full of gold in return for freeing the creature. With pockets full gold he stumbled his way up the road to his house and quickly passed out. Next morning just before dawn he woke and remembered his good fortune from the night before. Checking his pant pockets he found them empty but also noticed that they had holes in them. He then rushed to the door just in time to see a trail of gold back to the spot of the encounter. They had fallen out of his pocket through the holes. What joy! he`d be rich if only went back and picked them up. Unfortunately, the sun rose several seconds later and as the sun struck these precious metals they turned back into plain stone before his very eyes and his hopes were dashed. Once again had the wee folk out foxed a man and left him wanting!

Everyone on the Hill was staunch Scot-Irish Protestants. Many of their descendants continue involvement with the Orange and Black Orders to this day. Many were involved in the UDA and other protestant para-military defensive units. One of my Orange/UDA family members told me that he heard the story about my father going to Holland to stop an IRA arms shipment. In his version however, dad facilitated an arms shipment to the Irish Protestant defence forces rather than stopping a shipment to the IRA.

It is said that the Scot-Irish are more British than the British. You could certainly see the “patriotism”/British connection everywhere. Lots Ulster and UK flags, pictures of the Queen, etc. In some areas (including where cousin Andrew lives) there are pro UK murals on walls etc. (photos in separate entry). This pro British militaristic perspective is not a new tradition in the Hetherington family. I suspect that this connection to the Orange/Black Orders, militarism, and related world view is multi-generational. For example, Andrew gave me a copy of a 1912 Covenant signed by many Hetherington's MacLean's Allan's, Williards and Johnston's. Each signatory lived in Creggan Raphoe (or environs). The documents title is: 2138 Sheet No 7; East Raphoe; Donegal). I believe it was signed in a Presbyterian Church.

The Covenant is a 1912 declaration by those who opposed to “home rule” (semi-independence from Britain). The document declares the people of Ulster are “loyal subjects... calls on crown to protect loyal subjects... defend rights to be “equal citizens in UK... by using all means.... to defeat home rule...

In other words a declaration of their preparation readiness to fight the UK government if it moved toward the independence of Ireland. In others fight the UK to stay in the UK.

The document is also interesting because the same hand signed for several relatives who subsequently endorsed their signature with an x. Williams James signed for Johnston Hetherington and perhaps Alex Allen. Absent, at least from this page, is my grandfather's signature. Was he on the hill looking after the farm? Away?

Within my generation Protestant tradition continues with many people my age having been or are active members of the Orange Order. Many are/were involved with protestant para-military organizations. This military tradition (border reveivers, Cromwell, Irish revolution, WWI, WWII, “the troubles”, the Orange Order and the UDA) has had a strong influence on the people baring the name of Hetherington since the 1500s.

Today, the most visible sign of the troubles in Northern Ireland are in the posters and flags. British stuff is everywhere and Republic murals etc. mark Catholic areas. Republican murals are most common in Free Derry and the Falls Road section of Belfast and Protestant and pro UK in the Shankhill area of Belfast. I have attached copy of photos that I took of examples of these murals. These murals remember the martyrs of both sides. Twice a year the Orange and Black Orders to commemorate historic victories. These marches can lead to open conflict between the two communities.

During the 1921 troubles my dad spoke of a machine gun being placed in the belfry of St. Eunnan's in order to control the diamond and his school building being used as a Black and Tan barracks. As a result, he left school after 4 year or 5 years but eventually graduated as a mature student from New Westminster Secondary School in 1973. This lack of formal education did not mean that he was not self-educated. He was fairly well read and a keen follower of world events.

During the 1921 troubles he was self reportedly a messenger for the Black and Tans. He was captured by the IRA and thrown against the wall to be shot. Fortunately, someone with foresight had given him a rosary and made him learn the appropriate prayer. At the prospect of being shot he brought it out and started “Hail Mary.... “ Upon seeing this the IRA thought they had made a mistake, that he was in fact a Catholic, and let him go. A lesson in safety planning I guess?

Of course, my dad's role in WWII and on going involvement in the Canadian military and prison system and my generation’s involvement in Sea Cadets are other examples of the tradition of service in uniform. Today religion still plays a role and it can be poorly seen to marry out of one's community.

I want to thank everyone who attended the fine party that Pauline Johnston offered us where many of these stories were recounted. A special thanks David for showing us around the hill, Tommy Johnston for sharing so much of his knowledge about the family and his generosity at hosting the event. To Aunt Eileen whose presence deeply moved me.

Winston and his family for their hospitality, conversation and friendship. I trust that we will make use of the email connections that we made during this short period.

The next family related stop was in Newtownards were I met my cousins Molly and Lorna. Molly is an avid traveller and spoke to us of her trips to southern Germany. Lorna lives in a fine country home and has property. They took us for tea and to my grandparents (and other relatives) grave site at Whitechurch (Ards). It was great to see them both and learn of their lives and families.

At 5pm, Lorna and Molly dropped us off and we went to Andrew and Rita's for dinner. Andrew is recovering from a cancer surgery and in spite of this he and Rita were generous and welcoming hosts. Andrew had been a sailor and his usual run was between Ireland and South Africa. He met his wife Rita on shore leave. They subsequently married and had two boys. Andrew left the sea to become a fire fighter in Belfast (Winston was also a firefighter). During the troubles, as a firefighters, they would be inside the no go zone of a bomb incident, waiting to clean up after the blast while a robot attempted to defuse the bomb. The bombers would typically give a 10 minute warning and tell people to clear the area which in turn allowed sometime for the firefighters to arrive and attempt to minimize death and damage. Truly a difficult job that required courage.

Andrew showed me/us many documents, photos and archival objects. Four objects were little toy potato gun rifles that my father and his brother Johnston played with as children, a tin box with two cigars and books of matches left by my father in 1943 and a really cool Masonic digger that my father gave to Andrew saying that it was taken from a died German. Why dad said that a knife was taken from a a German unless incidentally the German was also a Mason is not clear. As an aside the digger had a skull on it as does the Masonic sash that I have from my father. Matt took pictures of these objects and documents. Andrew also said he'd try to forward electronic copies of some of these photos and papers, as he could.

Thank you Andrew and Rita for the fine time and meal that we shared.

Well I could go on and on about my current understanding of family history. I invite any readers who could add, edit or correct this tale to do so. On condition that your comments be added to the blog and accessible to other readers.

Planes Trains and Automobiles

My last day in Ireland and both my first and last in London. I guess before any closing thoughts I'll just tell you what we got up to today. We got up early as usual and started driving towards Dublin airport to get to London with the hotel's super helpful directions. We soon found ourselves lost and 40 minutes off schedule. Luckily we woke up early so we had time to kill... just barely though. After dropping off Sally, (our rental car) we ran through the airport as fast as we could, and made it with 10 minutes to spare. It was fun, never doing that again...

But we made it so I can't complain I guess. The flight to London was short and uneventful and we made it through security to London no problem. My dad being the prepared guy that he is bought us train tickets online, so we took the train straight into London. We of course took a famous black taxi to our hotel where we dropped off our bags and went out again. I'm not in London for long so I have to make the best of it.

Dad took me to St. Paul's Cathedral where he and his dad had a talk when my dad was a boy. Trying to maintain tradition and such. But that conversation is between me and my dad. So I'll tell you about the rest of London instead, we only walked around it, but it was still a grand time. We saw the London eye, Big Ben, the Tower Bridge. The whole sh-bang.

I was unfortunately super tired after waking up early and staying up late so many times. So I made dad head back early. Like I said, tomorrow I return home. Which I'm honestly super psyched for.

Before I leave you just some finishing thoughts. Ireland is a place of amazing ancient beauty, both in historical landmarks and natural beauty. If you ever had a desire to go, please do so. Just make sure you have someone to plan it as well as my dad did.

Ireland has really progressed from where I'm told it was a few short years ago. It even has a green initiative and pride parades. It really feels like home, so I'm glad to have my citizenship. Like I said earlier I didn't sleep a lot last night so I'm nodding off here. I have to make the flight home tomorrow by waking up at 5... I'll try to talk dad into posting the pictures while I'm gone.

So home is where the heart is. Now I need to get home while my heart is still in Vancouver. Signing off for the last time.

-Matt

Last of Ireland

Last full day in Ireland, tomorrow we head off to London via the Dublin airport first thing in the morning. We left our overpriced hotel in London and checked out the political murals and peace wall. It was clear that although there has been a peace signed the wounds of the past are still healing. When you take a picture of yourself in front of something like those paintings its hard to know whether or not to smile. I'm not sure how to show my respect in that way.

After looking at the murals on both sides we headed down to Newtownards to meet some more family. Hetheringtons this time, so that's always nice. We were greeted at our Hotel by Molly (the one who the guy in Raphoe dated) and Lorna, who are my father's cousins. They graciously took us out for tea and muffins. They seem like great folk but every once and a while you could hear that we did not shared the same political views as each other. Of course I was never one to be concerned with politics and family is family after all.

They were also kind enough to take us to see some more graves of the family. This time the graveyard had no shortage of Hetheringtons. I'm not sure if that's heartening or frightening to be honest. My dad seemed to really find this all fascinating, so I put up with it for him. (Okay, it was kind of cool)

Molly and Lorna guided us back to our hotel where we were met by another Hetherington. Her name was Rita, she's my dad's cousins wife. She hopped in our car and guided us back to her place for dinner and an exchange of family stories. When we walked in the door, her husband Andrew Hetherington was waiting for us. Andrew stayed at home as he was recovering from cancer. From what I could tell he was doing really well, you would never be able to tell.

Even I enjoyed the stories and pictures of our family that they showed us before and after dinner. They had everything from old pictures to a knife that my grandfather claimed to have gotten off a dead German soldier, but in actual fact was a Mason knife.

Unfortunately as the night progressed I started to feel unwell (probably all these nights staying up late blogging to you folks catching up with me :P). So we headed back a little early and checked back into our hotel in Newtownards and began to pack for the flight to London/home. In fact, I am doing that as I blog to you now.

Alas, we're getting up early tomorrow so I must be on my way. I had a blast in Ireland, I'm sure my short time in London will be grand as well.

-Matt  

She is the $$$ of Belfast city

Carnside Guest House was really a great deal, very cheep, between the two main tourist attractions, a free breakfast and on top of it all a beautiful view. What could be better than that?

However we still decided to shuffle off early so we could take the coastal road to Belfast. Really a stunning view. Of course along the way dad and I had to stop by the very famous Carrick-a-Rede Rope Bridge. Now somehow Dad and I managed to walk passed the place where we pay for the dang thing (honestly and accident) so we walked about 20 minutes to the bridge where we found ourselves without tickets to cross the bridge. Luckily the man who was checking let us through anyway.

The rope bridge really was cute and had an amazing view, but for the price we would have paid for it, definitely would have been a rip off. When it's free though, what an incredible experience. :P When we left we left a sizeable donation for being so generous.

From there on out we didn't stop for any more sights all the way down to Belfast. Not that we needed to with a view that amazing the whole drive. If you ever find yourself with the choice of the scenic route or the direct route in Ireland definitely take the scenic route. You'd be missing out on views you wont be able to find anywhere else in the world.

Dad and I being who we are were of course blasting music the whole drive down. But we had to turn it down on our arrival to Belfast because we reached another labyrinth of streets. Which I once again expertly navigated us through Belfast to bring us to Park Inn, our very expensive hotel for the night.

For the price we're paying for this hotel it should really be a lot better. It's more than double what we payed for many of our B&B and hostels yet we get much less bang for our buck. Maybe that's Belfast though. We have to pay extra for a breakfast in the morning, which has been included in every hostel and B&B so far. We have to pay for a parking lot that wasn't included in the doubled price that's down the road. And the kicker, we have to pay by the hour for wifi... Usually I don't complain about these things but for double the price I feel those should be included if not a little extra.

Intent on not letting this ruin Belfast I was open to my dad's suggestion of doing a bus tour, which was really fascinating. So I'm glad we did it. Easily worth the cost. The bus took us all around Belfast showing us all of the murals and architecture. Fun fact, Titanic was built here... Who knew? The bus tickets are good for 48 hours and you can hop on and off as you see fit. We might go down to check out the murals again tomorrow and take advantage of our tickets.

I later let dad talk me into checking out 2 pubs to soak up the city's ambiance. Guinness has a different brew here in Ireland and you can really taste the difference. Naturally, I'm taking advantage of having as much as I can before I leave.

Before checking back into out hotel dad and I went to a Mexican place called Boojum. So far it only exists in Ireland, but it's bloody good. Irish-Mexican food, welcome to the 21^st century I guess.

That about wraps up our time in Belfast, luckily I got all this in on one hour of internet. So I only have to pay 3 pounds for this little blog entry.

-Matt  

Giants and whiskey

As it turned out we slept in my second cousin's bed last night. I guess that's just the kind of thing you're supposed to do for families though. We of course stayed and talked to the Johnsons until 12, even though we woke up at 8 o'clock initially. Very hospitable people.

After a very hardy breakfast and a promise to stay connected we left the Winston's house with very clear directions for how to get to the Bushmills distillery, “right down the road for a bit, then make a left” Those are the directions to everything in Ireland, regardless of whether it's on the left or not...

However it's a big tourist attraction so it was on every map, and every second street sign as we got close to it. Gotta love Ireland, no clear signs until drinks are involved. We made it to Bushmills relatively easily of course. Now for those of you who don't know, Bushmills is an Irish whiskey which means it's distilled 3 times instead of 2, and is spelt with an “e”, whiskey. The tour was nice, short and sweet, straight to the point. You got to see the real factory at work. The Guinness tour was more well put together, but this tour is definitely worth a the price of admission. Seeing the real distillery instead of a replica was certainly a nice feature.

Of course we got to try a free sample at the end. Bushmills has 5 main bottles that you can buy all over the world at any time, however they have 2 that are what you might call “limited edition”. One which was made to celebrate their 400^th anniversary, it was made 4 years ago on a massive scale but when it they run out would be done forever. The other which could only be purchased at the distillery. Between the two of us we got a sample of each just to we could feel like we took advantage of the limited offer.

Carefully deliberating which we liked more, my dad bought me a bottle to open on the day I have my first kid. Which ideally is fairly far down the road in my life, but a nice gesture.

Fortunately enough the distillery is just down the road and to the left of our B&B that we're staying in tonight. Carnside Guest House (our B&B) is honestly just a stones throw away from Giant's Causeway. You see it's funny because-- I'll get back to that soon, just remember this!

Giants Causeway is a geological phenomenon on the north coast of Ireland. Do to some volcanic activity many years ago the rocks in this cove have formed to look like columns of rocks all stacked on top of each other. Irish legend says that Finn McCool (a giant) used to throw these stones across the water to Scotland, which you can see from the causeway, in an attempt to build a bridge. (See, a stones throw away, I'm so clever :P)

It's really a great experience. You can go for free, if you don't use their parking lot. Making the price right, however if you pay for parking then you get to visit the giftshop after. Thrilling, I know. However you also get a little blue box that looks like a cell phone. I can only assume that it gives information on the causeway that I wasn't privy to. It's truly a, as the locals would say, grand view. Worth the short drive up regardless of if you pay for parking or not.

I'll get some pictures of that up before I leave here, but I posted some earlier today so I feel like I don't have to post more quite yet.

Best of luck from our Northern-most sleeping location in Ireland.

-Matt