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A Boomer’s Journal: Irish? Not Sure, But March 17 ‘tis Day to Celebrate
by Tom Anselm
Friday marks an event of great significance in the saga of our little clan. For it was on St. Patrick’s Day 45 years ago that I officially met The Lovely Jill. And the rest, as they say in the story books, is history. Good old St Patrick, imparting the fabled Luck of the Irish on a kid with middle-European ancestry.
The day has been commemorated across the world since the 17th century as the death date of this memorable saint, and as recognition of the coming of Christianity to Ireland. Many cities celebrate with parades and festivals, feasting and, well, imbibing of adult beverages.
Here in our region there are no less than 5 parades, one downtown, two in St. Charles County, one in Belleville, and another in the Dogtown neighborhood, which is always on the same day each year, March 17.
So why so much Irish-ness, one may ask? Well, St. Louis was a very popular destination for Irish immigrants who came in great numbers during the better part of the mid-and later 19th Century. Before I get into this further, let me say that I owe a great deal to the wonders of the Interwebs, not the least of which was an article by a Ms. Diane Shaw. She chronicled her knowledge about an area known as The Kerry Patch. More on that later.
The good burg of St. Louis saw many farmers from the ‘Auld Sod’ finally find a home after traveling through the port city of New Orleans. Many came straight up the Mississippi, and others worked their way north. But instead of farming, many settled in an area on the northern edge of the city from Biddle Street to 6th street, and surrounding St. Patrick’s Catholic Church.
Some of this was on land that was donated mind by the family of the city’s first millionaire, John Mullanphy. He was a successful, and very generous, businessman with land holdings as far north as what is now Florissant.
This near North Side city area came to be known as The Kerry Patch, since many inhabitants came from County Kerry, and ‘patch’ was the word that described the small parcels of land that were left to the Irish after English intervention in the 1800s. Over time, many migrated toward the current Hampton and Manchester area, then known as Cheltenham and now as Dogtown, for new housing and work at the nearby clay mines.
These folks were among the 9 to 10 million Irelanders who came to the Land of the Free from the 1840 on to the late 1890s. Others of Irish descent settled in St. Louis after mustering out of the Union Army, within which many found quick employment at a time when jobs were scarce, especially for the Irish. And that’s another piece of their story.
New York and Boston were also large port cities where many who fled Ireland landed after arduous journeys across the sea, which saw scores of their fellow traveler’s, perish on the crossing. And then, once arrived, they were met by great hostility and resistance from those who, though most were immigrants themselves, were now in the New World long enough to consider themselves the new native ‘Americans’.
Political cartoonists portrayed the Irish as lower class brutes and drunkards, half-ape and half-human in appearance, known by the derogatory terms of ‘mick’, ‘paddy’ and ‘bridgets’. Upon searching for jobs, they were greeted by signs in businesses saying ‘No Irish Need Apply’ and ‘NINA’, put up right next to ‘No Dogs Allowed.’
The Irish did have a small advantage over other immigrants that helped them assimilate as they at least could speak English. Still, women worked long hours in factories and many as domestic servants, if they were lucky, while the men took the dangerous jobs of policemen and firefighters, canal builders and railroad workers.
And as for education, there was a great fear that their children would lose their faith and be treated poorly if publicly educated, so the parish, or ‘parochial school’, system saw great growth, especially in the larger cities. Which suited many citizens just fine, since they despised the ‘ Papists’, and went so far as to propose the Blaine Amendment, sponsored by Congressman James Blaine of Maine, which would prohibit state funds from being used for private education (read ‘religious’). It failed to pass. But enough of this, already. I have strayed far from my original premise… that being of my great good fortune of going to a party in a grand old home in Ferguson that Friday night long ago and laying eyes on that descendent of the Quinns and Costellos.
Therefore, on this year’s March 17th, this Austro-Hungarian-German kid will be sportin’ the green so as to be invisible to the Leprechauns and drink a few beers in honor of the Irish. So, Erin Go Bragh, mein Fruenden.
