Author Archive: Bill Black
I'm a baby boomer, lefty Democrat, Boston Irish Catholic, born in 1953. I work as a public affairs consultant in Washington.
Getting the Bike Together
First order of business was to reassemble my bike. Easier said than done. I was told to get “Mike the Mechanic” to do it. He’s the expert.
Unfortunately, my derailleur hanger was bent in transit. Turns out the bike store that packed the bike did a very poor job. Also, the brakes were stuck and there was a mysterious ping when the wheel spun.
Mike tried to straighten the hanger, but wasn’t confident it would shift gears properly. He said we should take it to a bike shop. Fortunately, Sunday is an off day, so there’s plenty of time to deal with this. Unfortunately, we are in the Bible Belt, so all the bike stores in the area are closed on Sunday. Closest open one is 47 miles away. So, that’s how I’ll be spending my Sunday.
First Christian Church of Peoria
Tom Weber picked me up at the airport. He’s a good looking and very fit 74 year old guy who’s done the cross country ride six years in a row. He also did a ride down the east coast, from Portland, ME to Key West. And a week later down the west coast. Yeah, he’s pretty fit.
Looks like he took a page from Peter’s book on being secure in his masculinity. Peter wears multi-colored tights. Tom wears bright orange finger nail polish. What’s my thing going to be? Not sure I’m quite so secure yet.
Tom took me to the Church where we’re staying. It’s the First Christian Church of Peoria. The denomination is the Disciples of Christ. The church proper and its various rooms, offices, conference rooms are littered with sleeping bags and piles of clothes. I was told to choose a piece of floor and spread out there.
First order of business is to reassemble my bike, but I’ll need the assistance of the experts. And they have all made a shower run, going to a local Y or gym or pool. My bike will have to wait.
So, I’m sitting in a pew writing this.
Sitting on the Plane to Peoria
After the cancellation yesterday, everything’s going pretty smoothly today. I was looking forward to the first class upgrade I got. Sadly, they had to switch planes. The good news, unlike those other unlucky 27 people, I did not get bumped. The bad news, no first class.
Things got awkward on the flight from DC to ORD. They had to move people around a bit because of the plane switch. I was moved from 3C to 1B. The woman who moved into my seat was extremely large. The guy who was next to me was not pleased and made a bit of a stink about his “downgrade.” I felt bad for the large woman.
On this flight, I’m in 2A, both a window and an aisle. It’s only about a 35 minute flight.
I will be picked up at the airport by Tom Weber. He has already picked up my bike.
I can’t recall when I’ve been in a situation like this. I have no idea what kind of experience I am entering. I do know I will be sleeping on a floor in a church tonight. Totally weird.
Fuller Cross Country Bike Ride
Today, I will head out to Peoria to meet up with my bike. On Monday, I will begin the ride back to DC over the next two weeks. The ride starts with four days in a row of 80 plus miles of riding each day. The longest I’ve ever ridden is 60 miles and it wasn’t pretty. See picture.
I’m nervously confident I can do this. But we’ll see….
My confidence comes from my friend, Peter Asmuth. He’s a man of my “generation” and has been riding from Seattle. He was much more fit than me starting out. So, his success doesn’t necessarily mean I can do this. But he insists I can do this. Fortunately, there are support services on the ride, like debrillators, etc.
While I am planning to post regularly to this site, that presupposes I will have the time, inclination or energy to do so.
Peter has been sending emails regularly to a group of friends. They are informative and very witty. With his permission, I will post some or all of his messages going forward to this blog.
So, off I go. Wish me luck…
Archie’s House
Archibald Black left Rathlin Island in 1848 to escape the Great Famine. He’s the ancestor who brought the Black family to America. We visited the house he left.
On the way over, we discussed the evidence that this home was, in fact, the source. Richard, who is normally very skepticcal, chastised me for raising the question. Bob explained that he had been researching our family tree for more than 40 years. And he was convinced. So there.
In 1968, our grand uncle, Brother Jason (a Xaverian Brother) and two of our uncles, Eddie and Vinnie Black, visited Rathlin. During that visit, they came to this place and it was occupied by a woman named Mrs. Susan Black. While they couldn’t find a direct connection, they were convinced, almost by process of elimination, that this was our ancestral home where Archibald lived. The fact is that there are simply not that many other possibilities. That a woman named Black lived here, was a pretty good indication of our heritage.
A Cottage on Rathlin
After leaving McQuaig’s, we set out for our lodging, a classic Irish cottage on a hill with a magnificent view of the sound between Rathlin and the mainland. I’m not sure when it was built, but it was clear that the indoor plumbing was a retrofit. The original rooms were very small, but there was a spacious family room, clearly a modern expansion, on the second story with large windows facing the water.
The house was surrounded by sheep pasture and the evidence of the sheep was everywhere. We had to take our shoes upon entry so as not to tramp “sheep dip” into the house.
It was a perfect place to stay. It made us feel like we belonged.
McQuaig’s Pub
McQuaig’s Pub is the heart and soul of Rathlin. It sits right on Church Bay, which is where all visitors arrive on the Island. As you approach Rathlin, you see St. Thomas Church on your left and McQuaigs on your right. While Catholics and Protestants have always lived peacefully together, the political dominance of the Protestants is illustrated by the prominence of St. Thomas, the Protestant church, which also includes the islands only cemetery.
The Church of the Immaculate Conception is located about a quarter mile inland from St. Thomas on a hill surrounded by trees. Since we weren’t there on a Sunday, we were unable to evaluate the relative attendance at the two churches. But all of our relatives are and were Catholic. No doubt most of the 140 residents of the island share that affiliation, at least by tradition.
But back to McQuaig’s. It was our very first stop. And, of course, the
bartender, Katrina, knew we were coming. Katrina is a young blonde-haired woman of about 30. Bob knew her family, of course. In a very sad tragedy, I found out later that her father died at sea only about five years ago. He was an accomplished diver who went out one morning and didn’t come back. First his empty boat was found, then later his body was found. He’d had a heart attack, but it is unclear whether that was the cause or effect of whatever happened in that boat that day.
This is turning into a very long post. Every paragraph I begin leads to a digression.
So, back to McQuaig’s….
It is a simple bar with an attached dining room (newly built, I’m told). Bob and Richard knew a number of people who happened to be there at 7:30 on a Monday night. We had a relatively quick dinner at the bar. As we were leaving a number of people were coming through the door with musical instruments. Clearly, there would be a “session” tonight. Would need to return, after we dropped the luggage at the house.
The Blacks, McCurdys and McFauls
Back the day, there were essentially three families on the Island, the Blacks the McCurdys and the McFauls. There was much intermarriage among these families and all three names populate all three family trees. One of the challenges for Bob in building and maintaining our family tree is that there are multiple appearances of McFauls in our tree. Bob says that we might have more McFaul blood in us than Black blood. Of course, our connection to the Black Family singers and the fact that we were staying at their house, gave us special status. In any event, everyone we met with one of those names is likely a relative and knew it.
From the minute we walked onto the ferry to the island we were greeted as family even though none of us had been to the island in years. John McCurdy knew Bob and Richard and knew the whole Black family story. He even knew we were staying at the singing Blacks homestead. They all spent the ferry ride catching up on developments on the island. There were a could of recent deaths of well-known figures on the island, people with whom Bob was very friendly. Chief among him was Augustine “Gusty” McCurdy who has written numerous books about Rathlin and ran the historical society. We paid our respects at his grave the next day.
On to Rathlin
Our Rathlin ferry was schedule for 6:30, so we left John’s at about 4 pm. Richard has been doing the driving and we’ve minimized the “wrong side of the road” challenge by sticking to highways as much as possible.
We did a FaceTime call with Michael Black, our host, on the way. Sadly, Michael will not be joining us on Rathilin due to a medical issue he needs to attend to in San Francisco. It will be his first summer missing his visit to Rathlin in 20 years. I learned later how significant his absence would be for the people of Rathlin.
We called Michael en route. I have never done a FaceTime call and it was pretty amazing to be driving down the highway in Belfast having a video call with Michael in San Francisco to prepare our arrival on Rathlin. He had gone to great lengths to prepare our accommodations, including having his niece, Aiofe (Frances’s daughter), drive up from Dublin to get the house ready. Aiofe is also a musician with a strong following in Ireland. Her most popular single is Along the Wild Atlantic Way. it’s great! But on this day, she’s our housekeeper. Only in Ireland….
Michael also left us his jeep at the dock for use while on the island. I loved tooling around the island in the very durable vehicle. The stick shift brought me back to my early driving days.
John & Mona McGarvey
We set out for Northern Ireland at about 9:30 am on Monday morning. Our plan was to have lunch with John and Mona McGarvey. John is a long time family friend who has been helping with the genealogy project for forty years, since he worked with my uncle, Eddie Black. John is a semi-retired college professor who teaches about some arcane scientific topic at Queens College in Belfast.
John is a delightful man, with a big family, 20 grandchildren. The conversation was lively and warm, focusing largely on family.
At lunch, however, the conversation turned to politics. I was surprised to learn that John had voted in favor of Brexit. Typical for John, it was a thoughtful decision and he explained his position persuasively. I then, explained to him that, in the U.S., many comparisons are made between Brexit and the Trump phenomenon. I suggested that, since he supported Brexit, he might be a supporter/admirer of Donald Trump.
He almost spit a mouthful of food across the table. Literally. And he assured me that he considered Trump a very dangerous man and was in no way supportive of him. We have yet to meet anyone over here who does not think that Trump is a danger to the world order and we’ve asked everyone from our taxi drivers on up. It’s unanimous. They all wondered what’s come over America?
We didn’t have a good answer.







