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THE GERMANS AND THE IRISH
By beanerywriters(11,675)
My wife, Mariellen, was of Irish and German ancestry but she greatly preferred being considered to be of Irish descent. The reason for that was rooted in her younger years. Her father had died when she was an infant and she and her mother had lived with her mother’s parents throughout her childhood and early teens. Her grandfather’s name was Bachoffer and he and his relatives were quite German. Her grandmother, a Dougherty, was decidedly Irish and so were her relatives. The two branches of the family did not mix well and it was a rule that they were never invited to the house at the same time. They would alternate; on one Sunday the German contingent would be guests for an afternoon and then the next Sunday the Irish faction would be welcomed.
Mariellen always spoke with fondness of the days when the Irish relatives visited. They would bring a bottle or two, she recalled, and would enter the house laughing. They would spill out of the living room and into the hall, dining room and kitchen and the day would be spent filled with story telling, music and song. The following weekend the German relatives would visit. Mariellen described their visits in somber terms. They would come after church on a Sunday afternoon, she recalled, and would troop into the living room where they sat down. They would drink beer, which they sipped politely. Every once in a while, as Mariellen told it, one of them would make a comment. About fifteen minutes later, she said, someone else would answer it. In that way they spent the afternoon. At five o’clock they would all rise, shake hands all around, say what a wonderful time they had had and go home.
Mariellen always preferred when the Irish came to visit. Their method of enjoying themselves suited her personality. That, I believe, was why she always preferred to be thought of as being Irish. ---written by Joe F. Stierham | |
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Posted to ProBlogs.com on Monday, January 01, 2007
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