Leaving On A Jet Plane...

Soon I will be heading off into the sunset; this is my last day on the extraordinary Garden Island of Kauai. I can certainly understand why people return again and again. During a conversation with our waiter last night he told me he and his family had just moved here from California. They came for a visit, went back home, sold almost everything, packed what was left and relocated here. Certainly a bold move but one he does not regret. I certainly hope to return one day. The experience has been filled not only with grand opportunities to see the island by land and air but with the warmth of the Hawaiian people.

Before I go back to my room to finish packing I will leave you with some more virtual sightseeing and finish when I return home. Early in the week, as I was driving around the island I heard a promo for one of the libraries on the island. They were having a book sale! Books to a storyteller are like honey to bees so when I came back to the hotel I googled all of the libraries, since I couldn’t remember the name and without too much trouble located the one I needed. The next day I drove over and introduced myself to Mark, who was very happy to know I had heard the advertisement. I asked his help on finding stories of the Menehune (he was very pleased that I pronounced it correctly) and was very helpful in locating some lore and legend of the islands for me. I gave him my card and asked if he would pass it on to the director when he had a moment. I found a comfortable couch in the back of the room and curled up to read some of the tales. To my surprise the director appeared to say hello. We chatted briefly and then she excused herself to get things ready for the book sale, which was to begin the next day. I returned on Saturday to find a 1947 book by Isak Dinesen, Winter Tales, a bargain at only one dollar!

Saturday morning was the fantastic helicopter ride I mentioned earlier. If you come to Kauai don’t miss the chance to take one as there are parts of the island you can access that are not available to the human eye any other way. The helicopter was new, spacious, and I felt very safe.

Saturday and Sunday ran together so I am not sure now what was seen on what day but does it really matter? One day we took a drive around the island to see the Waimea Canyon, known as the Grand Canyon of the Pacific. If you have ever seen the Grand Canyon in AZ think of this as a more diminutive version, but incredibly impressive nonetheless. We stopped at various lookout points, some being a bit more majestic than others, but each offering its own unique view and beauty. We continued all the way to the top for what is hailed as “the best view in the Pacific.” Just as we exited the car raindrops began to fall. Undaunted we trekked our way up the incline to the lookout only to find ourselves enveloped in the clouds, which was pretty cool all on its own, but then the rain became more intense. Unable to catch any of the view we reluctantly headed back to the car; at least we tried!

Next stop, the Kilauea Lighthouse, a postcard perfect landmark, perched on a bluff that represents the northernmost part of the main Hawaiian Islands.
Built in 1913 it had the largest clamshell lens in existence until it was replaced by a beacon in the 1970’s. There is a bird sanctuary nearby as well and you can take a self-guided tour. Next time.

Later we drove to Ha'Ena Beach, said to be one of the ten best beaches on Hawaii.If you look in the background of the picture below you will see the "Bali Hai" mountain seen in the movie musical "South Pacific."
We took a relaxing walk along the shore but the waves were a bit angry to attempt a swim. As we strolled the beach two young men, about 12 or 13 approached us with leis to sell; I noticed them in the parking area when we arrived stringing the leis together. They were so earnest I selected fragrant creamy white and pink lei. They assured me they were using the money for school.


Today I decided to try and find the Menehune’s Fish Pond. The Menehune’s are (some say) mythical Hawaiian creatures, the size of Irish Leprechauns. They are also tricksters, speak with a low growl much like a dog and any feat they undertake must be finished in one day or leave it forever. Many Hawaiians say that the unfinished rock walls around the island are from their unfinished tasks. So today, armed with my GPS I set out to find the Menehune (Alekoko) Fishpond. According to legend, it was built in one night as a gift for a princess and her brother. Some say it is 1,000 years old.

I typed in the name of the road and off I went. I drove and drove, then drove some more, and finally decided to stop for lunch. I couldn’t imagine that it was much further. When I got back into the car I realized that the GPS (or was it the Menehunes?) had taken me in the opposite direction. Hmmmm I laughed to myself out loud and promised the Menehunes that I would be respectful if they allowed me to locate the pond and off I went. This time I was successful. Coincidence? You decide. The fishpond was truly impressive, with the jagged volcanic mountains jutting up all around. I took many pictures then headed out to find a secluded waterfall off the beaten path, Kipu Falls. Initially I passed right by the dirt road opening, there are no markers as the falls is on private land, but after crossing the one lane bridge I realized my mistake and turned around. Although it is private property local community activists contend that access has occurred for so long, a “prescriptive easement” exists.

So armed with camera and cell phone (just in case I was lost n the wilderness…hey it has happened to me before) I set off on the 10 minute hike down the dirt path. I was immediately surrounded by tall stalks of green sugar cane; after a few minutes I began to wonder if I was headed in the right direction but just then a couple passed by going the opposite way and assured me I was on the right path. Wouldn't it be nice if we could meet up with folks like that along the way in life? :)I began to hear the sound of the rushing water as I hiked closer and closer. When I arrived I had to scramble down lots of lava rocks leading to the waterfall and pool below. Unfortunately, I hadn’t packed my sneakers since this was a last minute diversion, and made the best of flip flops, alternating between hopping between the rocks and sliding down the red clay-like dirt.


It was we worth the effort, the area is serene, cool and lush, a perfect place to spend time and commune a bit with nature, the air was fresh, and filled with the scent of tropical flowers. Ahhhhh...The scent of the flowers on the island is so strong they actually use them as natural fragrances in public bathrooms.I found my way back without any trouble, satisfied and happy that I had taken the time to stop and smell the roses,or in this case, the hibiscus!

Before going to dinner last night a long walk on the beach was called for. The waves were high, rushing in quickly, making the white caps dance as they made their way to shore. A local woman was slowly dragging a net into the water and we stopped to ask her what she was trying to catch. She showed us some tiny sand turtles; their entire body is white and looks somewhat crablike although they don’t bite. I held one for a bit and shared how we catch clams in New England the old fashioned way, digging the sand with our toes until we strike a hard shell. We said our good-byes and went our separate ways.

Time for me to finish packing for the long flight home; Aloha for now!

Paradise Found!

It is getting close to ending my time on this gorgeous island so I will make this post brief so I can get out and enjoy the day!

While riding around enjoying the scenery on Friday I saw a sign that said, Opaeka'a Falls two miles" and said, "Why not!" I found it without any trouble but as I hopped out of the car the heaven's opened. I stood in the rain taking in the the lush greenery and gorgeous waterfall, oblivious to just how drenched I was becoming with each passing second. It was too lovely to leave but I soon relented and headed back to the hotel to get ready for the luau.

The luau was held at a lush and lovely botanical garden. Unfortunately, it was still raining so we were unable to walk around but the we treated to a leisurely riding tour instead, complete with narration by our driver. We ended the tour at the dinner location, walking past covered imu's roasting the pigs the traditional way, which would be part of our meal. When they were ready to uncover the pits they announced the occasion by summoning us via blowing into a conch shell. Dinner was delicious and I even tried poi for the first time. It is definitely not something I would make a point of having on my dinner table but I did give it a go. It is best eaten as a sort of dipping sauce so I tried it with with some of the fresh salmon and it was palatable. Give it a go if you every have the chance and then you can at least say you tried it!

During dinner we were treated to some island music and the hula. It is truly an elegant dance and after it was performed the dancer did it again, this time with one of the musicians narrating the movements. Every movement and chant tells the story; it is story and dance as one, simply lovely. A century ago the north shore of Kauai was home to one of the most prestigious halau (hula) schools in the world. For some interesting background information on this delicate dance visit http://www.alternative-hawaii.com/hacul/hula.htm

After dinner we were treated to a feast for the eyes, a two hour show of dances from the various cultures that inhabit the islands of Hawaii; China, New Zealand, Japan, the Philippines and the Maori of Australia. More on this later.


The next morning found us back at the airport, awaiting my first helicopter ride. We were given a safety briefing and then up, up and away! If you want to tour Kauai this is the way to go! We were able to view areas that would be impossible to reach any other way. At one point in the trip we were actually flown into an inactive (she says happily :) volcano crater. Waterfalls surrounded ups and the images were almost too surreal. Our pilot Toby took us down the Napoli coastline for a stunning view. Pictures do not do the site justice, the scope and grandeur of this rugged coastline truly do make it too beautiful for words. It was as if all of the sites we were seeing from the air were too much for our eyes to take in all at once.

Our pilot offered a wonderful narration of what we were viewing; the hour flew by! (no pun intended). There is so much more to share about this flight and the weekend but my time is running short on the island so I better get out and make the most of it! More virtual travel to come, stay tuned!

MAHALO!

That means "Thank you" in Hawaiian and I do thank all of you for your kind comments and good wishes for a fun-filled trip in Paradise. Here on the island of Kauai life seems to drift along in slow motion, everyone is filled with smiles and Aloha greetings. People actually look you in the eye when they speak to you and let you go first at an intersection! Simply amazing.

Yesterday I spent some time getting the lay of the land after the hotel shuttle took me to the airport to pick up my car rental. It's a Subaru Forester, a smaller type SUV and it's RED!!! I have always wanted a red car and this one is so fun to drive. Even though I am vertically challenged, i.e. short, the car is just the right size for me. I ran some errands around town and met a great gal who works at one of the restaurants near the resort town of Po'ipu. She invited me down on Saturday when she will be working so I plan to meet up with Trish after my helicopter ride around Kauai. Later in the evening we went to dinner at a lovely open air restaurant. The coconut crusted chicken was delicious! Jet lag hit me last night so under the covers I slipped at a fairly early hour.

Yesterday I was up and out the door fairly early with my trusty guidebook and GPS in tow. Actually, the island is pretty easy to navigate. It is one big loop with the town moving towards the center so it isn't too difficult to find your way. I decided to find the beautiful and Wailua Falls for my first stop. The picture at the top of my first Hawaii post is of the falls so I won't insert another here but you can read all about it now! Up, up, up I went, seemingly into the clouds, passing a beautiful cemetery on the way. Yes, beautiful. Each plot was raised, ringed with stones and adorned with exquisite, tropical flowers; I said a silent prayer as I passed.

Kauai is the wettest place on earth with 472 inches of precipitation each year and Mt. Waialeale on Kauai is the rainiest and wettest spot on the planet. As I reached the overlook for the falls large raindrops began to fall but no worries, the showers pass quickly here.

I spent some time taking snapshots of the falls then noticed some flowered leis, some fresh, others long past their prime, and strands of shell necklaces adorning a chain link fence. I walked over and read a heartbreaking piece of poetry and photos encased in plastic to protect it from the elements penned by the family of a young woman who was lost at the falls a few years ago. I couldn't help but wonder what happened to this beautiful young lady, gone too soon, and said another silent prayer.

My next stop was a beautiful, natural phenomenon called the Spouting Horn. It is so interesting I couldn't resist walking further out onto the rocks to take more photos. I also ventured, very gingerly, over to another rock formation, but this time it went down, instead of up, like a huge sink hole.The ocean would rush in, filling it up withing seconds, then recede, only to do it again and again. I stopped to pick up a rock, which appeared to be hardened lava,
but my storytelling friend Mary Garrett, warned me today via email that if I take any rocks from the island I will anger Pele. Back it goes, I don't need the Hawaiian Goddess of the volcano angry at me!

Afterwards I decided to forgo listening to my GPS and explore. I wound my way through the serpentine roads, taking a left here, a right there, until I found myself at a small roadside stand that sold shave ice (no 'd' on the shave). My friend and fellow storyteller Batsy Bybell told me "not to miss it" so I quickly pulled into the parking lot.It is not he same as the snow cones on the mainland. The ice is actually shaved off a big block right in front of you into a fine powder so it's easy to eat. Then it's topped with any one of countless exotic tropical fruit flavors. I chose tropical fruit and mango. The server asked if I wanted a topping and rattled off a number of them. One sounded interesting even though I couldn't pronounce it but when in Rome... Batsy was right, it is delicious! I can't wait to have another.

I continued to drive here and there. One road took me through a tunnel of trees aptly named, The Tree Tunnel. As I passed through I felt encased and serenely safe as the sun streaked through the branches, making a surreal zig zag pattern of light. Later I found out from a local that they were eucalyptus trees. In the early 1900's a cattle rancher was landscaping his home and had 500 trees left over. He donated them to locals who planted them. The swamp mahogany, as the tree is known, formed a beautiful "tree corridor". Although it is still lovely hurricanes have damaged the tops so they no longer completely intertwineas they once did. It is said that in ancient times if you came up a road lined in such a way it meant that the road led to royalty.

As I explored throughout the day I marveled at the beautiful jagged mountains everywhere I turned, some wrapped in soft clouds of white, others crystal clear, softly drapped in gowns of lush green against a breathtaking azur sky. It was grand to people watch as well. Older, weathered face men sold their wares of fresh ahi and shrimp from their makeshift roadside stores or from the back of their trucks, young men speed by on motorcycles with longboards (surfboards) strapped on the the side with bungee cords, and mothers played with their children in the surf. All in all a grand way to spend a day!

Aloha for now. Time to begin "just another day in paradise!"

Aloha!

Life is an adventure! My day began at 4:00 a.m. as I quickly dressed to head into Boston and catch the first leg of my Hawaiian adventure! I made sure I had a window seat for the entire duration so I could enjoy the scenery as I winged my way from one coast to the next. Most of the time we were high above the clouds but once in a while they would part and offer a glimpse of the varying topography that makes our country so unique. Along the way I saw the beautiful Sierra Nevada Mountains, jagged and still snow capped, then just as quickly, as if there were an invisible curtain between them, the mountains turned to a lush, soft moss green.

As we began to descend to land in San Francisco, the land below appeared segmented and multicolored as if an artist had purposely drawn kohl lines then painted each section individually, offering an appealing mélange of rust, orange, green and yellow. I wish I knew what I was looking at but the pilot offered no description.

On the last leg of my journey, from San Francisco to Honolulu my seat mate was a lovely young woman from Denmark, now living in California. She works for the consulate and was transferred to the USA where she would live for the next four years. She was enamored with the beauty of our country and came equipped with a long list of things to see. I suggested she add the Grand Canyon to it but she was way ahead of me. We talked of the different places to visit in the world, so much to see, and she encouraged me to visit Rome, a city that has found a way to marry the ancient with the modern, with wonders waiting around every corner.

As we began our descent to Honolulu I could see Mount Kilauea in the distance sending hot plumes of volcanic steam into the air. Just beyond was another island, sparsely populated, which offered up the remnants of another ancient volcano, its side scooped out, like a colossal quart of soft ice cream. It no longer held red hot lava but was now filled with bright green vegetation.

The layover in Honolulu was a bit over three hours. The gentleman who ferried me over to Honolulu airlines gently and comically admonished all of us on the shuttle not to rush saying, “In Hawaii we hang loose. I checked this morning and the islands are still there!” As an East Coast gal, naturally prone to hurrying, I will remember to repeat this mantra during my stay. The last leg of my journey ended in Kauai, ending my 17 hour journey and depositing me amid the soft, warm breezes of the Pacific.

By the time I slipped beneath the welcoming covers of my bed I had been awake for 24 hours; I slept in my first morning attempting to overcome my jet lag.
When I finally decided to greet the day I rolled back the charming, white washed wooden slats of my patio doors and was greeted by abundant sunshine, lovely, tiny birds flitting about and velvety red orange tropical hibiscus flowers, dotting the landscape. Off in the distance I could hear the gentle rolling of the waves on the beach I would explore later in the day.

Since my trip was very spur of the moment I decided to spend my first afternoon by the pool, reading up on the delightful excursions available on the island. I already have a luau booked for Friday and I know for certain that sometime this week I will take a sightseeing helicopter tour of Kauai, or the Garden Island as it known.

Right now I am sitting in the hotel lounge, waiting for my dinner partners to appear. A wonderful duo of musicians play and sing for all of us, one strumming the guitar, the other lovingly caressing the bongo drums. The tiki torches are filling the early evening air with their flickering glow, the Pacific roars in the distance and the veggie sushi is to die for! Life is good. Wish all of you were here! Aloha!

Walking the Talk

It has been a while since I last posted and thankfully it looks like my leap of faith might be working out. There are so many new avenues opening up that my head is swimming, but it's all good!

Last weekend I attended the Sharing the Fire conference in Nashua, New Hampshire hosted by the LANES organization. I posted an overview of my time at the conference on the Storytell listserv and I share it with here as well. My apologies to anyone I left out.

The weekend started off in grand fashion meeting Csenge from Budapest, Hungary in the lobby of the hotel. She is truly everything folks have shared about her, a lovely young woman full of energy and delight. We were able to spend some time together and I had fun introducing her to the STF community as we wandered about. I am sad to say I missed her showcase as I was hosting another one at the time, but I consoled myself knowing that I will have the opportunity to see perform again soon.

The Friday night concert began with Simon Brooks. I have heard Simon tell before but he just gets better and better each time I have the opportunity to be in the audience. He shared The Story Untold, The Song Unsung. Simon is incredibly relaxed on stage, alternately playing with the audience and the story. He is such a strong performer and I have no doubt we will be hearing a lot more from him. Simon is from England so to use his natural vernacular, I think he is bloody brilliant!

Jean Armstrong shared her animated, funny and poignant personal tale about attending a dance festival. I had the pleasure of seeing her perform this at the NSN fringe in Pennsylvania in 2006 and it was just as much fun the second time around.

Uncle George, as he is fondly known in our New England circle, shared the folktale The Tiger's Whisker. A well-know tale to be sure but he told it with a personal passion and made it his own. We talked a bit afterwards and he shared that he had worked on it a great deal, being coached by a number of people and it helped him immensely. Another plug for story partner work!

The last person in the set that night was a librarian from NH whose name unfortunately escapes me. I believe who just won the Librarian of the Year Award. She told a fractured version of Cinderella that was fall off your seat funny! Her presentation was filled with dry, hysterical wit that was so polished it appeared effortless. I don't know if it is is her original version, I suspect it is, and if so, she needs to get the story published. A true delight.

I presented a three hour workshop, Storytelling With Ease, on Saturday morning. Unfortunately, last minute preparations kept me away from Susan Klein's keynote but I heard she was fabulous! The focus of my workshop was beginning storytelling skills and judging by the evaluations it went very well. Eighteen librarians, educators and folks interested in storytelling were present. They were an attentive, receptive audience, willing to play and learn. Our goal was to learn one story by the end of the workshop and present it to the group.

One attendee, Wesley, a young adult age 15 stood up in front of the group full of adults and shared the story of The Stone Cutter. This is a difficult cumulative tale and even though it was a very shortened version I would have pulled out of the pile of stories to use had I realized it was there, yet he took the challenge and did a wonderful job. His mother found me later at the conference and shared that he had actually performed the story for her later in their room. Her words were "What did you do to my son? He is incredible shy, I can't believe he performed the story for me!" Of course it wasn't me, it was the magic of storytelling. Hopefully, we will hear and see much more of this young man in the future.

Late Saturday afternoon I attended a workshop on Storytelling and Literacy with June Peloso. She offered some wonderful information, statistics and activities. I wish her workshop had been longer, she has so much to share and truly does great work.

On Saturday night there was the main OLIO and it was grand. There was a very eclectic mix of stories and tellers, including Dave McPherson, known for his poetry slams in Boston, Slash Coleman, an awarded winning playwright, Robert Perkins, filmmaker and writer whose work has been shown on PBS, Leeny Del Seamonds a well-known teller who appears at festivals around the country and Cris Riedel. It was a terrific mix of styles and genres that worked incredibly well and certainly highlighted that there is room for all kinds of storytellers and styles.

Everyone was grand, especially Cris Riedel who performed Possum's Tail. I have known Cris for years, taken her workshops but never heard her tell. She is fabulous! Her voice is so rich and full, no wonder she's a voice coach. Her telling style is relaxed, fun and intimate. She made a huge roomful of people feel as if she was telling just to them. I can't wait to hear her again.

Leeny was her usual effervescent self, sharing the delightful bi-lingual folktale, Who Rules the Roost. I wish I had her ability to deftly switch from one language to another, without missing a beat.

Saturday night found me in Regi Carpenter's room, an incredibly talented teller who was awarded the J.J. Reneaux award for emerging tellers, conferred by the NSN. There is no question in my mind why she received it. Regi gave us, about 12 in all, a private performance of the fringe piece she will share in TN at the National Storytelling Conference. It is the amazing story of her father and family, interspersed with songs that fit each era. Regi can not only tell, that girl can sing! The story is heartwarming and heart wrenching, filled with all of the pathos and joy life throws our way. Truly not to be missed.

Sunday morning began with another keynote, this time we were treated to the insightful words of Lee-Ellen Marvin. Although Lee-Ellen is not an elder in the numerical sense of the word, she is truly an elder in our community. She has accomplished so much, gives of herself in so many ways and continues to mentor students in the art of storytelling. Her keynote was powerful, wise, humorous, encouraging and made you want to jump up out of your chair and make a difference in the world.

Later on I sat in on a coaching workshop offered by Jackson Gillman. Three folks are chosen by lottery but others can observe, which is what I did. I was glad I went as I learned so much from Jackson. His coaching style is gentle but spot on! He is truly a master at knowing what works and what can be improved upon. If you ever have the opportunity to be coached by him don't pass it by.

The last workshop I attended was by Molly Catron, Storytelling in the Business Jungle. Molly is from TN who has worked in the business world for 20 years and she knows her stuff! She packed a lot of information into 90 minutes; her workshop could easily be an intensive, she has so much to share that comes from her "in the trenches" experience, not just from books.

The closing ceremony was lovely, filled with music and dancing, honor those past, those present and those who will follow in our footsteps. Three youth tellers shared their stories with the audience. One young man, Dylan, is 12 years old and brought the house down with his original story of how God gave humans the give of speech. At the beginning of the story God realizes his mistake and Dylan slapped himself on the forehead and in place of "Oh my God" said "Oh my self!" It was just one of the many hysterical, creative moments of his story. He is one to watch!

Well, there you have it, my highlights, at least those that I can remember at the moment. Again, my apologies for leaving anyone out. The weekend was full and rich, it was grand to see old friends, make new ones and be filled to the brim with stories! Sincere thanks to Lauretta Phillips, this years conference chair, and all the volunteers who made it work! I hope they are all taking a well-deserved rest right about now!

On another note, this week I had a wonderfully productive meeting with the director of a local arts organization. The director and I will be part of a city-wide Literacy Summit
this coming week and hopefully bolster an interest in storytelling and education. The organization is committed to working with other community organizations and schools to bring families, educators and the arts together in an accessible and productive learning environment. We have a lot of ideas brewing and will continue to work together on a number of projects, including an after school student storytelling program, teacher training, an evening open mic for adults, and more. Stay tuned!

Another storytelling friend and I have a new, long range project in the works as well. We haven't yet unveiled it as we are still fine tuning the details; please check back later to learn about it and share in our excitement.

As I said before, serendipity is a wonderful thing; I would never have the time to work on all these diverse projects had I not left my office position in March. So, onward and upward, exciting, new adventures await. I hope our paths cross along the road!

Serendipity and a Leap of Faith

Serendipity, I have always loved that word. It comes from the Persian folktale, The Three Princes of Serendip; "as their highnesses travelled, they were always making discoveries, by accidents and sagacity, of things which they were not in quest of..."

You see, my entry into the world of storytelling back in 1999 was a very serendipitous event.It was then that I attended a teacher's conference in New Hampshire and one day, during our lunch break, we were treated to a wonderful storyteller. She shared amazing tales of growing up in Africa, woven around lush folktales from her culture. I was hooked! Although I graduated with an degree in English Literature I was unaware of this ancient art of Oral Tradition or a career in storytelling. When I returned home I immediately began to research. This is not as easy as it sounds, we are talking pre-Google time! Within a few months I attended my first storytelling workshop and within a year my first Northlands Storytelling Conference in Iowa. I began my new journey, at first taking baby steps, then skipping along for a bit, and later running to catch up, thankful for the many hands and voices that lifted me up when I stumbled along the way.

So in this Leap Year I decided to take my own personal leap. After 14 years working at my local elementary school I submitted my resignation. I have decided to move from part-time/sometime storyteller to full time teller. I finish in three weeks but will continue to work with my student storytelling troupe. My administrator has assured me that as long as he is there the program will continue. I am blessed.

As I leave the cold, crisp days of February in New England behind and welcome in the windy days of March, it is with a mixture of hope, faith, and a wee bit of trepidation that I begin another journey. I know it won't happen overnight but if not now when? As the Chinese proverb teaches, "The best time to plant a tree was twenty years ago. The second best time is now."

A Step Back in Time

My mother was one of the funniest and most genuine people I have ever known and she raised me on a steady diet of family stories about her childhood. She grew up in a large Irish Catholic family surrounded by eleven brothers and sisters. A family that large would tax any bank account but she and her brothers were brought up during the Great Depression when times were especially difficult. Yet love still lined the walls of their home.


I still remember laughing at the crazy tales of sibling rivalry between Mom and her sister Margaret. Irish twins they were yet they were so different in many ways. Margaret was the one with the magic mirror and the ‘come hither’ strut. Mom was more shy and unassuming, never believing that she was a natural beauty, but their bond was unshakeable.

I don't remember my mother ever striking me as a child so I would wince when she shared how my grandmother would line up all twelve of the children and dole out her strict brand of discipline at the end of a strap they called a “cat and nine tails.” That strap went through many incarnations as the children did their best (or worse) to hide it from their mother’s reach. As a child I giggled with delight each time my mother told me how our very own family trickster, Uncle Eddie, stuffed it into the cast iron tea kettle only to be discovered, to my grandmother’s horror, when she poured a cup of tea for the visiting parish priest. Through the years I would plead, “Tell me again”.

It has been said many times over that the grandmother I never knew was strong-willed and resourceful; so capable she was able to convince her neighbor to switch houses, no banks involved. The stuff of Depression Era legend to be sure! These stories sometimes sounded like Tall Tales but were always corroborated by my aunts and uncles if I dared question their authenticity.

I never recorded those stories and didn’t fully understand their value until I found storytelling. Sadly, my mother passed away eleven years ago and the time has come and gone when I could ask her to “Tell me again.” So this past weekend I decided not to let another opportunity pass me by. I spent the day with her brother, my godfather Laurie. If I owe my storytelling skills to anyone besides my mother it would be him, a true Irishman, quick to laugh, sing a song, tell a story or lend a hand; the man who has graciously, and sometimes with trepidation, taken on the mantel of family patriarch over the years.

So this Sunday I set up the tripod and camera and we settled in. Although I came prepared with a clipboard full of questions, they were not needed. He quickly fell into an easy rhythm; I found myself whisked away to the Emerald Isles, watching my grandfather grow up as a street urchin with his two brothers, Shanty Irish they were. Then, in what seemed like an instant he was old enough to walk onto a ship, make his way down to steerage class and emerge on Ellis Island. Little did he know that a woman named Mary, Lace Curtain Irish was she, from Ballyhaunis, County Mayo, would make that same journey years later and one day become his wife.

Throughout the afternoon we made our way over the ocean, to the docks of New York, down to Massachusetts where grandfather easily found work in his trade as a mason. Although his sponsor was in Chicago he learned there were opportunities in the city of New Bedford where numerous red brick textile mills were being built, mills that still dot the landscape today. Later in life he stopped “slinging mud on the walls” to take up a more decorative and artistic type of masonry, that is unfortunately a lost art. Some of his most beautiful work can still be found throughout the city, particularly the golden Grecian dancers that grace the walls in the exquisitely restored Zeiterion Theatre. They bring me comfort and a grand sense of pride each time I attend a performance there.

My Shanty Irish grandfather grabbed his piece of the American Dream and soon built a very successful business, which was decimated during the great crash; he never fully recovered. There were other stories shared that day, some funny, some poignant and we have not finished this journey yet. We will meet again for there are many more years and lives to explore but I am forever grateful for the warmth of family and stories on a cold New England day.