I have to confess that writing Old Joe has really been a labor of love.
The interest that I have in history, specifically that of
St. Joseph,
has made writing this column very entertaining for me. But it has also
proven to be fairly difficult at times. Our city is rich with history
but not all of it is readily available information via the internet. So
the nice folks at the St. Joseph Public Library have provided much
assistance. But what to do when they have little material on a subject? The
easy answer is just change the topic. Hey, I’m a college graduate; I
used this philosophy to survive an awful lot of term papers. The thing
is what if I like the topic I am trying to learn about?
Let me back up. I wanted to write to you all about the history of St.
Joseph’s St. Patrick’s Day celebrations, including but not limited to
our infamous parade. The timing was perfect. Plus I have an ulterior
motive, being Irish and bearing an Irish name, this is one of my favorite
holidays.
I Googled it and yielded nothing. I file-dove at the library and found
only repeat articles announcing the date and route of the parade. So I
am turning the tables on the readers of this column and I am asking
you: What do you remember of St. Patty’s Day Past here in St. Joe? Tell me
the stories your parents and grandparents told you. These are the
stories of our past and that is what this article is all about.
I will still take a moment to share with you my own memories of St.
Patrick’s Day. As I already mentioned, I have a vested interest in the
Irish based holiday. But beyond that I look forward to the green day for
weeks and weeks in advance. And it’s all because of my grandmother. She
calls me each year on St. Pat’s Day and sings “When Irish Eyes Are
Smiling.” I can’t tell you if it is intentional or not but she always
manages to call when I am unable to answer. The hidden benefit of this is
that I can play that message over and over. There is something so
comforting about your grandmother’s voice. It has nothing to do with musical
ability, though she sings beautifully. Its something that I guess cannot
be explained. But just think back for a moment and try to hear your
grandmother’s voice, singing or not. It’s beautiful isn’t it? It’s okay
to close your eyes and let yourself hear it for a moment, I’ll gladly
wait.
Well, back to the problem at hand. I still know next to nothing about
St. Joseph’s Irish memories. Will someone out there please share? You
hold the stories; all I can do is retell them. Come on, let’s sit down
for a cup of coffee…I’ll buy.