My daughter's doing the Leaving Cert this year. If you don't know, the Leaving Cert is like a high school diploma, sort of. It marks the end of your second level education, but, no BUT, it is a totally different experience for the student {and, most importantly as far as I'm concerned, the parents}.
By the time you get to the end of your high school career in America you've had hundreds of exams, quizzes, projects, other things that all add up in the various subjects to make your high school record. In Ireland nothing you do in the first 12 years of education matters. All that really matters, all that counts is how you perform in the Leaving Cert Exams, which you sit over a two to three week period at the very end of your school career. Everything else is simply practice. It's like the Olympics where some highly trained athlete spends his entire life preparing for one two-week festival of sports in which he hopes to achieve his life's ambitions.
Two weeks and nine (or so) three-hour exams in 7 subjects (two subjects have double three-hour tests because three hours wouldn't be fun enough). And riding on your performance in these exams is your college place. Like I said, nothing else matters. Your test scores are your college application. Seven numbers measure you.
Once you have finished the exams you only have to wait two months (give or take a week or so) to find out how you did.
Needless to say this process has the effect of creating stress in a house. More on that later.
Comments:
dublin37 wrote:
Good luck to her!
5/20/2009 10:55 AM EDT
TheYank wrote:
Thanks. I need it. (see next post)
5/20/2009 11:42 AM EDT
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Monday, May 18, 2009
Irish roots: How my grandfather was hidden at Ellis Island
My Aunt Kathleen is the family genealogist. She literally wrote the book on our Irish American family. Yet, she hadn't been able to find any record of my grandfather's entry from Ireland into the U.S.
No one knew when he entered or where, but we had a good idea that he'd first come to America in 1916 and we were pretty sure he'd come to New York. He had brothers and a sister already there, so it had to be New York.
That meant he had to have come through Ellis Island - but there was no sign of him in their records. There was no difficulty finding my grandfather's brother, Rodger, who passed through Ellis Island in May 1913. That only added to the frustration. We knew my grandfather's name, obviously, we knew what year he was born, where he was from (sort of – more on that later) and we had a pretty good idea what year he immigrated.
So why didn't he turn up on the Ellis Island records ( www.ellisisland.org)?
The Ellis Island search facility is very flexible. You can search by a range of years by birth or by entry to the United States. You can even search by a partial last name. Yet not one of those bore fruit.
My grandfather's name was John Fahy when he left New Quay, County Clare and he, along with his immigrant siblings, changed his name to Fay at some point. Today we can only guess as to why they did this.
I searched for Fahy, Fay, Fa*, but nothing. I searched for people from New Quay whose last name began with Fa, but no luck.
I talked to my father about it and he concluded that his father had probably entered through Boston or Philadelphia and traveled on to New York. Given there was a war on at the time, it made sense that he might not have had the same number of options for traveling to America as those who traveled in peacetime. He might well have sailed to one of those cities.
Then one afternoon I had a brainwave. I'm not much of a genealogist, but I've used computers for nearly 30 years and I know how things can go wrong. And one adage that all heavy computer users know is, “Garbage in, garbage out.”
It occurred to me that the computerized records I was searching weren't always computerized. Someone had to key them in. So I started searching for misspellings for the name Fahy.
And I found him.
Ellis Island has him listed as John Tahy, who arrived in November 1915. The Ellis Island Web site not only lets you search the records, but when you find the record you want, you can view an image of the actual immigration record. Everything was there.
His U.S. address was his brother Pat's place in Palisades Park, N.J. He paid for his own passage and, although it's tough to make out, it looks like he had £20 on him.
He had traveled on the SS Saint Louis and, happily, he was neither a polygamist nor an anarchist. He was presumably in good health as no mention is made of it in the appropriate area. He is listed as being 5'10” with hazel eyes, fair hair, fair complexion and no marks of identification.
He was a British subject – it was 1915 – and a member of the Irish race. He came from Finvara, Ireland. Yep, Finvara (Finivara or Finavarra), not New Quay.
His brother had arrived two years earlier and listed his hometown as New Quay. The address (today, anyway) would be Finavarra, New Quay, County Clare.
The combination of the misspelled last name and the variations in hometown name had made my grandfather all but invisible. All because someone misread a capital F as a capital T.
Just about anyone familiar with Irish names would have known that Tahy is not an Irish name. If the person who entered the data from the Saint Louis's manifest of November 11, 1915 had known that Fahy was more likely than Tahy they might well have looked twice at the legible, cursive entry for my grandfather.
Handwriting styles change and I can see how someone who is not of Irish descent might have thought the name was Tahy. I would wager that most of the other 34 listed Tahys – many of whom seem to have come from the same part of Ireland as my grandfather – should also be Fahys.
The moral of the story is, if you're searching computerized records and you can't find a relative who you know should be there, remember that the person who typed the data in could have made a simple error – one that no one would notice, but one that will certainly frustrate you.
Think about handwriting, think about the drudgery of entering data from handwritten records and start searching for simple erroneous versions of the name you are searching for.
No one knew when he entered or where, but we had a good idea that he'd first come to America in 1916 and we were pretty sure he'd come to New York. He had brothers and a sister already there, so it had to be New York.
That meant he had to have come through Ellis Island - but there was no sign of him in their records. There was no difficulty finding my grandfather's brother, Rodger, who passed through Ellis Island in May 1913. That only added to the frustration. We knew my grandfather's name, obviously, we knew what year he was born, where he was from (sort of – more on that later) and we had a pretty good idea what year he immigrated.
So why didn't he turn up on the Ellis Island records ( www.ellisisland.org)?
The Ellis Island search facility is very flexible. You can search by a range of years by birth or by entry to the United States. You can even search by a partial last name. Yet not one of those bore fruit.
My grandfather's name was John Fahy when he left New Quay, County Clare and he, along with his immigrant siblings, changed his name to Fay at some point. Today we can only guess as to why they did this.
I searched for Fahy, Fay, Fa*, but nothing. I searched for people from New Quay whose last name began with Fa, but no luck.
I talked to my father about it and he concluded that his father had probably entered through Boston or Philadelphia and traveled on to New York. Given there was a war on at the time, it made sense that he might not have had the same number of options for traveling to America as those who traveled in peacetime. He might well have sailed to one of those cities.
Then one afternoon I had a brainwave. I'm not much of a genealogist, but I've used computers for nearly 30 years and I know how things can go wrong. And one adage that all heavy computer users know is, “Garbage in, garbage out.”
It occurred to me that the computerized records I was searching weren't always computerized. Someone had to key them in. So I started searching for misspellings for the name Fahy.
And I found him.
Ellis Island has him listed as John Tahy, who arrived in November 1915. The Ellis Island Web site not only lets you search the records, but when you find the record you want, you can view an image of the actual immigration record. Everything was there.
His U.S. address was his brother Pat's place in Palisades Park, N.J. He paid for his own passage and, although it's tough to make out, it looks like he had £20 on him.
He had traveled on the SS Saint Louis and, happily, he was neither a polygamist nor an anarchist. He was presumably in good health as no mention is made of it in the appropriate area. He is listed as being 5'10” with hazel eyes, fair hair, fair complexion and no marks of identification.
He was a British subject – it was 1915 – and a member of the Irish race. He came from Finvara, Ireland. Yep, Finvara (Finivara or Finavarra), not New Quay.
His brother had arrived two years earlier and listed his hometown as New Quay. The address (today, anyway) would be Finavarra, New Quay, County Clare.
The combination of the misspelled last name and the variations in hometown name had made my grandfather all but invisible. All because someone misread a capital F as a capital T.
Just about anyone familiar with Irish names would have known that Tahy is not an Irish name. If the person who entered the data from the Saint Louis's manifest of November 11, 1915 had known that Fahy was more likely than Tahy they might well have looked twice at the legible, cursive entry for my grandfather.
Handwriting styles change and I can see how someone who is not of Irish descent might have thought the name was Tahy. I would wager that most of the other 34 listed Tahys – many of whom seem to have come from the same part of Ireland as my grandfather – should also be Fahys.
The moral of the story is, if you're searching computerized records and you can't find a relative who you know should be there, remember that the person who typed the data in could have made a simple error – one that no one would notice, but one that will certainly frustrate you.
Think about handwriting, think about the drudgery of entering data from handwritten records and start searching for simple erroneous versions of the name you are searching for.
Saturday, May 16, 2009
To Ypres
Bought tickets to fly to Belgium in July. The whole family is going. I'm really looking forward to seeing the Island of Ireland Peace Park near Ypres in Flanders. Not sure if there will be much more than Ypres in this tour, but I'm sure we'll find other things of interest, etc.
Comments:
Comments:
dublin37 wrote:
ooooh, you must hit Bruges if at all possible. So beautiful and quaint, with lovely lace at good prices.
5/20/2009 10:57 AM EDT
TheYank wrote:
Dublin37
I'd love to, but that will be another trip. We can only fit so much in during our 36 hour visit. Brugges is on my list.
I'd love to, but that will be another trip. We can only fit so much in during our 36 hour visit. Brugges is on my list.
5/20/2009 11:33 AM EDT
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
View from the DART
On my way into Dublin yesterday I was noticing - again - how great the DART line is. Can there be a more beautiful commuter rail line on Earth? No, not the trains, the scenery along the line - particularly between Bray & Dalkey. I snapped this from the train, which explains the vaguely murky haze - the windows were slightly less than clean.
This (below) is the view you see when you emerge from the tunnel just beyond Dalkey on the way out of town.
This (below) is the view you see when you emerge from the tunnel just beyond Dalkey on the way out of town.
Soaking up the rays
Was in Dublin yesterday. It was sunny and warm - ish. Warm for late March, but not really warm as such. Maybe in the high 50s, but there was a pretty sharp breeze. The wind chill doesn't put Irish people off, however. There they were in Merrion Square in the center of Dublin yesterday, sunbathing. Only men yesterday.
Are men hardier or simply more stupid, I'm not sure. I think some people are just driven nuts by sun deprivation.
Whatever the psychological explanation, I saw a number of guys who had peeled off their shirts to lie out in the grass. Me? I just buttoned up the jacket and walked on.
Are men hardier or simply more stupid, I'm not sure. I think some people are just driven nuts by sun deprivation.
Whatever the psychological explanation, I saw a number of guys who had peeled off their shirts to lie out in the grass. Me? I just buttoned up the jacket and walked on.
Friday, May 8, 2009
Chip & Pin costs sales
The visitors went into Dublin to do a bit of shopping today. Helping the economy, right? Can't be any issue with a few Yanks spending a buck or two in Dublin, right? Well, not quite. A few stores apparently weren't interested enough to take the American credit cards. No chip in the card means that the old signature has to do where we all use a PIN nowadays. For some stores that was too much trouble. No, we don't take those cards. Sales lost.
I can't help wondering how often this happens here now. Does this make tourists feel welcome? I would say not.
I can't help wondering how often this happens here now. Does this make tourists feel welcome? I would say not.
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Bonus time on-board
Visitors from America arrived this morning. At 6:15! Wasn't expecting that, but it seems that there was little taxi-ing needed at Kennedy Airport. So EI104 arrived nearly an hour early at 4:30 or so. Fortunately for me, the airport wasn't ready for them and the lucky passengers - including my visitors - were treated to an extra 40 minutes sitting on the plane. Now, tell me, who doesn't want that between 4 and 5 in the morning after flying through the night?
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
The rusty gate
The Irish Times says that The Gateway may never return to Dun Laoghaire, Co. Dublin. It was removed in order to "facilitate a new walkways scheme." Yeah, whatever works for you. I don't pretend to be an art connoisseur, but my son summed up the sculpture pretty well: "They're just two hunks of rusty metal."
Monday, May 4, 2009
Living horse in early May
So it's a Bank Holiday and, of course, it's pretty miserable. But our weather forecasters have said that we should have a long, hot, dry summer. Yeah, well, as my father-in-law used to say, live horse and you'll get grass. No, I don't really know what it means either, but I always liked it.
Friday, May 1, 2009
Let's get going
It's a holiday weekend - a "bank holiday weekend" - and the weather's not all that bad. Seems like a good time to start this.
Right now the sun is just peaking above the hills to the east and there's hardly a cloud in the sky.
Right now the sun is just peaking above the hills to the east and there's hardly a cloud in the sky.
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