There's nothing like doing some family
history to gain a little perspective. For example, how many women
have you come across in your genealogy research whose husbands died
leaving them alone to support several children? I can think of four
right off the top of my head. In some cases the women re-married and
in others they just muddled through. Thinking about their lives
makes me realize that I have no problems. Furthermore, knowing that
the life I have could be gone in a moment makes it all the more dear.
Or there is the case of my Kopp family
who lived in Tiffin, Ohio. In 1913 a terrible flood swept through
the city and the force of the water even carried the piano out of
their house. My family had to be rescued from the roof. They were
lucky; nineteen people died.
Another of my people, Lawrence Flynn,
worked as a carriage maker for the Michigan Buggy Company until a
blazing inferno burned the factory to the ground in January 1902.
(Michigan Buggy Inferno) About 300 men were left without work. I
can only imagine Lawrence being buffeted by a chill wind as he walked
up to the smoldering remains. I can envision him staring blankly at
the charred ruins of the building in stark contrast to the
snow-covered city all the while wondering how he would feed his
family. Lawrence was lucky in that the company quickly rebuilt, but
he and the others had to subsist somehow for those nine long months.
For me, though, the event that trumps
all others in putting my life into perspective is the Great Irish
Potato Famine which lasted from approximately 1845-1850. To
illustrate this I'll present the case of brothers John and Daniel
Harrigan. John was born about 1829 in Tipperary, Ireland, Daniel in
1838. At this time, approximately two-thirds of the Irish population
depended entirely on potatoes for sustenance, because it was the only
food one could grow enough of on a tiny plot of land (often less than
an acre) to feed a family. [1,2] Consequently, a bad year was
devastating. During the Great Hunger (as it is referred to in
Ireland) there was complete failure island-wide in two of the years
and partial failures (and lack of sufficient seed potatoes to grow
more) in the other years. Those who didn't die of starvation died of
disease (typhus, dysentery and cholera, among others). Tens of
thousands were evicted (whether they were current on their rent or
not) and their mud huts destroyed so their landlords could reduce
their taxes (the fewer tenants they had the less they had to pay in
taxes to feed the destitute). [1,2] The evicted were left to fend for
themselves. Those willing to give up every possession might be
accepted at a work house, assuming there was space. Here, families
from age two and up were separated and adults subjected to
back-breaking labor, all especially designed to be so abhorrent men
would do everything in their power to avoid entering a work house.
[1,2]
Visitors to the island described
entering apparently deserted villages only to find themselves beset
by walking specters, their rags hanging from their emaciated frames.
[1,2] Whole families were found huddled together in their cabins, the
dead intermingled with the living, who were too weak to stand let
alone bury their loved ones. [1,2] The dead littered the countryside
and carriage drivers remembered the thump of driving over bodies
during the night. [2] Every edible creature (from dog to bird) was
consumed and many described the unnatural silence that settled over
Ireland. [2]
John Harrigan would have reached
manhood during a five-year period that saw some of the greatest
suffering of the Irish people in their history. Daniel may not even
have remembered a time growing up when death did not pervade the very
air. This was the world that John and Daniel Harrigan left, along
with at least two million others. By conservative estimates, they
left behind 2.5 million dead. [1,2] Assuredly, many more died for
the numbers come from interviews of the survivors. When whole
families and even entire villages died or emigrated no one was left
to attest to their existence. The suffering did not end until
emigrants were safely in the bosom of friends in the New World
because from port to port they were swindled out of every farthing
possible, crowded together in miserable conditions and given only
insufficient or substandard food (assuming they were given any at
all). [3] Learning about the famine and the abysmal conditions on
board emigrant ships completely changed how I thought about the
Harrigan family.
Healthy potato plants growing in my garden.
So, now when life gets difficult I try
to think about what some of my forebears lived through. It puts
things in perspective. And I can tell you that I will never look at
a potato quite the same again.
- O'Murchada, C. The Great Famine: Ireland's Agony 1845-1852. 2011. Continuum.
- Coleman, Terry. Going to America. 1972. Pantheon Books. New York.
