Author Archive: Bill Black

The O’Donovans

Our destination in Cork was the O’Donovans house, Jerry and Peggy. Many members of my family have visited Peggy and Jerry, as they are rumored to be distant relatives. I haven’t been able to establish for certain whether the relationship exists, but it has become irrelevant. They are so welcoming and so many have dropped by, that we’ve stopped obsessing over the relationship. That said, if a relationship exists, it would be that my great grandmother is sister to Jerry’s great grandmother. The evidence is that they had the same last name, Regan.

Here’s their house. It is surrounded by beautiful gardens, with a fenced in yard on the left for Jerry’s three ponies. “Just a hobby,” he says. They also have two little terrier dogs. One played Toto in the local production of The Wizard of Oz and would have to be picked up every evening by cab to be ferried to his performance.

The house was full when we arrived with friends and family. And Peggy put out a massive spread of food.

Lots of laughter and catching up on the “family.”

We also talked politics. They abhor Bush, so we obviously got on well politically. Ever time it was suggested that they visit us in the states, Jerry would say, in his thick Irish brogue, “After Bush is gone.”

The also all voted no on the Lisbon treaty. It was fascinating listening to their reasoning, particularly after hearing the “pro” from most of my colleagues with Fleishman Hillard.

It was a warm vist and we’ve clearly made friends for life, whether or not they are family.

Driving in Ireland

Danny’s First [legal] Beer

If Danny’s follows the path of far too many Irish men, we’ll know where it all began. Here he is with our host, John Saunders.

We visited Johnnie Fox’s after our first day tour of the countryside outside of Dublin. It’s a dusky old pub, established in 1798, full of old framed newspaper pages commemorating great events in Irish history. Sitting at the top of a hill outside of Dublin and fed by a narrow, curvy road, you wonder how its patrons, after many pints, were able to navigate their way home without incident. No doubt many didn’t.

And, yes, the Guinness tastes much better in Ireland. Danny said, “Tastes like a milkshake.”

Not a good sign.

We interrupt this program…..

Sadly, I have not been able to find an internet connection that allows me to upload pictures onto the site. I’ll keep trying. So, check back if you want to see:

Danny’s first legal beer
Bridget imprisoned in Timoleague Friary
The family looking at Torc waterfall in a driving rainstorm
Peggy O’Donovan’s massive spread to great the distant cousins

And more…

The Merry Ploughboy

We wound up the evening at an Irish pub close to John’s house called the Merry Ploughboy. The place was packed, even on a Monday night. The music was fun, with lots of audience participation. Then they brought on the Irish dancers, that were clearly influenced by the Riverdance phenomenon. Very athletic dancing and occasional ethereal mood music.

They also involved the audience in the dancing, even pulling our Bridget on stage for a performance.

Good Germans

Ireland was neutral during World War II. There is no way the people of Ireland could officially join their oppressors, the British, in their squabble with the Germans. Nevertheless, the government was supportive of the Allies. The people of Ireland, however, did show some sympathy for German soldiers, particularly pilots who crashed in the countryside. John took us to a very picturesque little cemetery for German soldiers from both World War I & II.

A Tour of the Countryside

John took is for an auto tour of the countryside. While his home is but 7 miles from Dublin center, we were in rural Ireland within minutes. Wide expanses of bog land and rolling hills. After many miles of climbing ever higher into the Hills, John pulled over to show us the most spectacular private residence I have ever seen or heard of. Looking over a cliff deep into a valley, there stood a magnificent country mansion, fronted by a vast expanse of green lawn leading to a mountain lake. The little specks on the lawn were wild deer grazing. And the sound was of an unseen rushing waterfall. The house is owned by an heir to the Guinness fortune. Unfortunately, it was impossible to capture this view in one picture, so here’s three. You make out the mansion just over the grass with the roads leading to it in the first photo. The next picture shows the lawn leading to the lake. And, finally, the view of the whole lake. Nice crib, huh?

The View from Farnham Hill

Pictured is John Saunders, my wife Rita and my daughter Bridget. They are standing on a porch just off John’s second floor bedroom. You can see the wrought iron fence opening to the property and just to the left of that, the little patch of white is the empty guardhouse. While the day is overcast and it doesn’t show in the photo, you can see the city of Dublin over the top of the tree line. Just beyond the city, you can even see Dublin harbor.

Farnam Hill Revealed

Here’s a view of John’s home that doesn’t nearly do it justice. The inside is spectacular, full of large windows that bathe the interior in light and, of course, green.

At Farnham Hill

Arrived at Farnham Hill, the home of John Saunders, Regional President for Continental Europe for Fleishman Hill. He has a beautiful home, very modern on an expanse of green, as befits its Irish location. I will post a picture once I get past some technical difficulties.

The house was previously owned by a British businessman who was kidnapped by the IRA only steps from the front gate. It turned into an international incident. And, while the businessman was eventually freed, two Irish police officers were killed in the rescue.

As a consequence of this history, there is a guardhouse at the gate and a very large security camera. These now lay dormant, relics of a previously violent time.

John, his wife Jean and his daughter Caroline are the warmest of hosts. They gave us some sustenance and sent us off to bed for a nap to recover from the trip across the ocean.