St. Patrick's Day - Nana and the Orangmen

Growing up with my Irish grandmother only about a mile away on my bicycle, I used to ride over there to see her. She used to tell me stories about how she met my grandfather; who I never met, he died before I was born; and about growing up. But, I was always confused about her stance concerning St. Patrick’s Day. Moreover there seemed to be something going on about “orange men” that confused me even further.

Of course, at the time I had no idea about the religious and political differences which divided Ireland over a thousand years ago. And, even now; at 60 years of age; it is still something I am trying to understand.

First off, that’s Nana above. Born Mary Burke, she was the daughter of my great great grandparents Thomas and Ellen Burke, who moved from Ireland to Brooklyn in the 1850’s. He was a blacksmith and a wheelwright. She stayed home and idid what women did back then; had kids; one of whom was my grandmother “Nana.”

Even my Dad used to joke about not wearing green on St. Patrick’s Day and that orange would drive the average Irishman to drink. Later on I got the joke, but as  a kid I couldn’t understand the thing at all. And then when the Irish-Protestant Troubles kicked up again when I was about 13, I gave up trying to figure it out. I mean if these guys; who both worshiped the same God as far as I could see; were going to kill one another who was I to interfere. As for the orange men; well they sort of faded away into a fairy tale; more of a family joke type of thing.

But this year I resolved to find the answer to that ancient question which has tugged at me since I was a kid; what is an Orangeman and why does his mere existence drive the average Irishman to drink? So, with the help of Aunt Gloria; who is an expert on Orangemen; and the assistance of Wikipedia, this is what I have learned.

I figure that the Williams family didn’t want to be considered Irish; but then my Welsh great grandfather Isaac married an Irish woman, my Nana, pictured above. So, it probably started as a joke between them, but then that wouldn’t explain why Nana no longer wore the green after he passed away. Nor would it explain why my Dad especially used to deny being Irish; stressing the English part of the family tree instead. So, we turn to history.

There is an organization called the Orange Institution which holds hundreds of parades throughout Northern Ireland annually. The biggest one is held on July 12^th, in honor of the Battle of the Boyne. Okay, so what was the Battle of the Boyne? Guessing it has something to do with the English and also the division between the Irish Catholic and the Anglican Church. There are also others throughout the year to commemorate the Battle of the Somme. Some of the parades are confrontational, depending on the routes they take.

There are different “neighborhoods” in Belfast where the sentiment runs strong as to whether or not you are an Orangeman; or a Nationalist or Republican. Many of these divisions go back earlier than the Troubles of 1916.

There are also many parades on St. Patrick's Day in Northern Ireland, not just Belfast. Mainly the parade commemorates the Patron Saint Patrick and his place as Patron Saint of Ireland. He is also recognized as the Patron Saint of both Unionists and Nationalists. So now I am totally confused over this Orangeman stuff and besides, Nana was Irish right down to the way she inserted r’s into words like “beirl” and “toirlet”. And if that ain’t Irish, then I’ll eat that hat.

The Kingsway Theater - A Love Story (1947)

In early 1947 my father was working as an usher at the Century Kingsway Theater on Kings Highway and Coney Island Avenue. He was just past 16 years old, and I’m not sure what they were paying him, but he was about to come into something more valuable than financial reward. When he went to work that night in early 1947, he had no way of knowing that his life was about to change forever. This was the night he met my Mom; but for whom I would not be telling this story.

My Mom had gone to the movies with her friend Judy; remember, I’m pulling this up from the deep recesses of my mind, so it may have been Doris instead. This was their usual routine on a Saturday night in the late 1940’s, when women wore headscarves and gloves; well, at least my Mom did. Also, she was Jewish, and just shy of her 18^th birthday. She was studying voice and auditioning for parts in the chorus of various  Broadway Shows.

My Dad, on the other hand,  was only 16 and a half, Irish Catholic, and apparently; according to my Mom; a bit lacking in the social graces. He was just ready to graduate from Maritime High School  aboard the SS Brown in Manhattan, and then ship out as a Merchant Marine Seaman; something I would later do myself.  Instead of asking her out on a proper date though,  he told her he’d be working the next weekend if she wanted to see him again! My Mom, of course, went home, and in the only diary entry she ever showed me wrote that “if he thinks I’m going back and pay to see him again, he’s got another think coming!” Strong words, but the next week she was back to see him; albeit still with her friend; and this time my Dad did ask her out for a date. They went to Prospect Park and fed the squirrels. These photos are from their 3rd date, as noted.

My friend John posted the picture of the Kingsway Theater on Facebook the other day, bringing back many memories; all good; of the good old days. And looking back, I don’t think that there was ever a time that I saw a movie at the Kingsway without recalling the story of how my parents met, and I came to be. Thanks, John.

Jones Wood Garden - The Almost Central Park

My Dad and I used to eat our lunch in this park. It is located between East 65th and East 66th Streets, and Lexington and Third Avenues, on the Upper East Side. We'd get rare roast beef sandwiches from one of the delis around the corner and then head for the park. He had almost all of the apartment buildings on those Avenues as clients in his air pollution control business, and we spent a lot of time in the area. But we were always too filthy to eat in a restaurant, so we would get sandwiches to go. This picture is courtesy of Suzy at http://mendogardens.blogspot.com/

Jones Wood was the original location touted for Central Park. Owned by two familes, the Joneses and the Schermerhorns, the land originally extended from the East River to 3rd Avenue, and from East 66th to East 75th Streets. It totaled 150 acres. Although the area was sorely in need of a park, the Joneses and Schemerhorns had more grand ideas for their land, namely commercial and industrial uses. This was about 1848.

In 1851, James Beekman (as in Beekman Place) and Senator Hamilton Fish, had begun working towards building a "Central" Park to serve as "the lungs" of the city. By 1857 a committee had been established to determine the boundaries of the park and they hired landscape architect Frederick Law Olmstead to design the layout.

Meantime the Jones Wood location was increasingly being used as a kind of "speakers square", where people would go to vent their political frustrations. In May of 1865 the Workingmans Union had over 50,000 workers attend a picnic/rally in the park for support of the 8 hour work day. They had a great time, but they wouldn't get the 8 hour day for another 60 years or so.

Jones Wood was becoming "the place to go" for political rallies in the tears following the Civil War. The split amongst the Protestant and Catholic Irish was a source of concern when it came to holding onto political power, and Jones Wood played a part in this as well. In 1866 a wealthy New York merchant named William Roberts, (now there's a coincidence for you!) lead a demonstartion of 100,000 in Jones Wood. His plan was to take Canada and hold it hostage until Britian freed Ireland. It wasn't a bad idea, but it never came to fruition.

Central Park was open and doing well by now, with the gentrified portion of the city, but at first the working class did not use it that much, the rules were too strict and the place was not "user friendly" to them. For instance, singing in German was not allowed. This is just one of the ridiculous rules which were first imposed in the park. So people were still going to Jones Wood to gather as late as the 1880's. The Scottish Caledonian Society held their field and track meets there. The Germans used it as a beer garden for parties, as did the Irish.

Eventually the stores and factories along the East River gave way to the luxury high rises and brownstones that populate the area today. But in the midst of all of this there still stands one square block of Manhattan, undeveloped save for some benches and a fountain. Thanks to the stubborn greed of the Jonses and Schemerhorns, who would not sell the land for a park, as it wouldn't pay enough, we still have it, as a park, today.