True or false: Do all Irish sing well, root for Notre Dame, love potatoes & cuss a lot?
My great, great grandpa, Thomas Mackin, arrived in St. Louis from Ireland in the 1850s.
I don’t know what brought Thomas Mackin to the St. Louis area. I figure it may have been the big river, a job, a girl, or word-of-mouth. Many immigrants settled in St. Louis at the time, for port-related jobs.
He was a Mackin, so he may have gotten lost and it was pure Irish luck he eventually landed on his feet here in the middle of America. Faith. Hope. A little Irish luck. Still works for this Mackin today.
Eventually, he made his way from St. Louis to the East Side where his family-owned property on Collinsville Avenue in East St. Louis.
That’s how my clan of Mackins settled here from Ireland more than 170 years ago.
According to my official AncentryDNA kit, I’m about 70% Irish. There are persons more Irish than me, and less Irish. It’s my roots. You are who you are, right?
None of this makes me an Irish or Ireland expert. I was born here. I have always lived here. But it may qualify me as much as anyone to confirm, deny or offer an opinion on many Irish stereotypes that come to life this time every March.
Irish love potatoes. True. It’s not really a meal unless some form of potato is on the table.
Irish drink excessively, have fiery tempers and fight a lot. False. Greatly exaggerated. There may be examples of all three. In general, we use our Irish wit and charm to avoid fisticuffs. That little Notre Dame mascot? Put up your dukes? Little fella would get his little butt kicked in today’s Mixed Martial Arts world.
Irish cry whenever we hear “Danny Boy.” True. Come on, how can you not cry?
Irish sing well. True. Best when all together. Or in church. Or when “Danny Boy” is being played.
Irish talk about the future more than the past. False. The Irish don’t talk about tomorrow because it might jinx us.
Irish are fans of Notre Dame and the Boston Celtics. True. We loved that Rudy movie, true or not.
Irish take compliments well. False. Tell an Irish person, “You look very nice today.” Reply: “Need to lose 10 pounds and my feet hurt ...”
Irish are tea addicts. False. Maybe in the Mother Country. Over here, it’s coffee. Sometimes, with a little kick.
Irish are all redheads. True, in heart if not on the head.
Irish do not get suntans. False. There are many tanned Irish folks. But if you are truly blessed, like me, your Irish-toned, pale skin remains as pasty white in August as it is in January. Our tan is a few extra freckles.
Green is our favorite color. False. But we have an “Irish green” section of our closet.
Irish often leave gatherings unannounced without saying, “goodbye.” True. Where is he? He left an hour ago. The Irish Exit. It’s either sneak out a side door quietly or spend another two hours hugging every Irish friend or relative like we are headed off to war tomorrow.
We all have a friend or family member named Mac, Sully, Mary, O’Connor, Ryan, Murphy, Walsh, Kelly, O’Shea, Doyle, O’Brien. True. And somebody in our family once owned a corner bar or was a policeman, fireman, or both.
Sweaters, parades & cussing
We love sweaters. True. And we have at least two green ones, one for winter and one for every other season.
We love parades and marching in them. True and false. We love parades. But marching is not for all of us. Short legs. Our feet hurt.
We cuss a lot. True. We can’t help ourselves. The bad words flow, naturally but harmlessly Sometimes, we combine them all into one very long and loud Irish cussword.
We believe in the magic of lucky charms, four-leafed clovers, rainbows and pots of gold under a rainbow. True. If you are Irish, you believe in the make-believe and good luck.
We know at least one leprechaun. True. But we’re not telling who or where he or she is. It’s our little Irish secret.
