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My dad lived a long and full life. He used to say he'd been around the world 3 times. Travel was his passion. He enjoyed seeing new places and people. He was born in Donegal in February, 1914. When he was born, Ireland was a part of the British Empire, and had a long and bloody history with England that continues. World War One had not begun when he was born ( & my mother was born 4 days prior to the war's end ). Donegal was extremely rural in that time, probably on a par with places like rural China today; that is, a few towns, but mostly peasant/farmers. The farm where he was born is in an area called Glenkeeragh, ( Irish for the Glen of the Sheep ). It remains in the family still. He left home at 14, to work as a farm laborer on the wealthier farms of Derry. He spent many years there, and he had a wonderful touch with animals of all sorts. Horses loved him especially, and I think he would have loved to have worked at a race course, but events dictated otherwise. World War Two came early to the UK, and they were in desperate need for labor of all sorts. Dad joined the Merchant Marine services, and made many runs on the convoys from South Africa to England. He had two boats shot out from under him, courtesy of the German Kreigsmarine, but seemed almost casual about it. After the war, he went to Australia and New Zealand, and worked there during the boom of the 1950's. He spent almost 10 years there, working a lot of construction and road building in the almost virginal territories. I've often wondered why he didn't stay, but I think the wanderlust took him again. He returned to Ireland for a few years, then visited the United States in 1956. He was impressed, and his brother James sponsored him in 1957. I often joked that he was not "off the boat" Irish, but "off the plane". His was the first generation to take advantage of fast cheap air service between Ireland and North America, harbinger of millions to come. He landed a job at Harvard University in 1960, as a laborer for the Buildings and Grounds department, assigned to the Medical School. Always one with an eye for turning an easy dollar (or shilling, or lira, or whatever) he began supplying the need for coffee and soft drinks to the workers and technicians of the Harvard Medical School, as well as their need for Irish Sweepstakes Tickets. This was a time of few state lotteries. I believe New Hampshire started the first legal lottery in the US in over fifty years. The Irish Sweepstakes was used to generate money for the Irish Hospitals charities, and did build quite a few. It is now gone, due to the efforts of New Hampshire, and later all the other Hyperbux and Mucho-Loot-Oh games. He met my mother while he was selling the tickets in the Medical School Museum. My mother was a histologist there, happily slicing tissue for wildly different projects and studies. He asked her out to dinner and dancing, and the rest followed naturally. They were married September, 1961, and I followed suit at the end of July, 1962. We moved to the house in Dorchester in 1965, after my mother's father passed away (age 92), and used it as our base of operations ever since. My mother caught the travel bug from my father, though she had shown symptoms earlier in her life. I travelled to Ireland with them at age 9 months, and have been back at least a dozen more times. We used Ireland as a springboard for travel to the UK (aside from Ulster) and the European mainland. We also traveled North America, from coast to coast. They loved it, and I think a highlight of their travels was the trip they took to Australia and New Zealand in 1984. My father was so very happy to return ther after so many years. The year of my mother's passing, we went to Ireland for what would turn out to be his last time. He enjoyed the 2 weeks there, seeing many old friends again. I am always amazed at ther numbers of that generation the survived to their 80's and 90's. We also made two trips to the midwest, both for weddings, the last one in October of 1999. I know dad enjoyed seeing his family again. He talked about when we returned for weeks. I hope this does some justice to his memory. It is just the bare highlights of his life, but I think it frames the man. Pax, Bernie McGeehan |
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