Her Irish Eyes Are Smiling

Across the Fence #330

This old Norwegian-American wishes a Happy St. Patrick’s Day to all of you who have Irish blood coursing through your veins. It’s time to put the lutefisk and lefse away for a day and break out the corned beef and cabbage.

I won’t be drinking any green beer, but I will be partaking of a corned beef and cabbage meal. I think it’s a safe bet that most of us who had ancestors along the western coast of Norway, have a wee bit of Irish blood and have a bunch of Irish genes. It’s a historical fact that our Viking ancestors established several major Irish cities, including Dublin, Cork, Waterford, and Limerick. DNA studies have shown that 30 to 40 percent of the people in many regions of Ireland have Viking ancestry. Also, many an Irish lass ended up back in Norway after the Vikings “toured” Ireland. So, not only can we celebrate St. Patrick’s Day, but the Irish can celebrate Syttende Mai too. Norskies and the Irish have the best of both worlds.

As many of you know, I’ve done a lot of research on our family roots over the years. I know it doesn’t seem very important to some people, But I think knowing your roots gives you a better sense of who you are. We’re a part of all those who came before us. That includes the good, the bad, and the ugly. Every family tree has some ancestors of dubious character and skeletons hanging in it.

There’s a new television show on Friday nights called “Who Do You Think You Are?” We’ve found it a fascinating show, as it follows celebrities on their journey as they track down their ancestors. I always find it hard to understand how so few people can name their great grandparents and know nothing about their lives. If you’re ever feeling like you’re pretty important and the world couldn’t function without you, just remember, in one hundred years, most of your direct descendents won’t even remember your name, let alone what you did while you were here! That’s an interesting and humbling thought, isn’t it? That’s why I always encourage people to tell or write down their stories. Don’t take them to the grave with you. I wish my grandparents and great grandparents had left a written record of their lives. It would be priceless to those of us who delve into family history.

The study of history is important to me. Perhaps that’s one reason I’ve traced our family back through history for hundreds of years on both my mother and father’s sides. All my ancestry lines go back to Norway. All my great grandparents were born in Norway.

I’ve also done some research on Linda’s family. We have some information on her father’s side, but we knew nothing about her mother’s ancestry. That side of the tree was as bare as a winter tree. Linda suspected her mother had some Irish roots, but couldn’t prove it. She and her brothers have always loved Irish music and have had a strong attachment for all things Irish.

Over the weekend we decided to see what we could find. Using Ancestry.com, I put in the available information about her mother and within half an hour I had traced her family back to Tipperary, Ireland, where Linda’s great, great grandparents were born. Linda was excited. We had found her Irish roots.

Her ancestors were among the million people who left Ireland during the great potato famine between 1845 and 1852. During the famine approximately one million people died from starvation because most of the potato crop was destroyed by the potato blight. Linda’s ancestors were among the lucky ones who made it to America to start a new life. There again, I wish we had a written story of the trials and tribulations they went through. It must have been a very hard time. Their lives are important in the history of our family and it would be nice to know more about them—the great, great, great grandparents of our children.

As I searched the records on Ancestry.com, and followed Linda’s maternal ancestry lines, back through time, I also came across several Norwegian ancestors. Uff da, now that she knows she has both Irish and Norwegian blood, she’s going to be hard to live with. You know what they say, “You can always tell an Irishman, but you can’t tell them much.” Or maybe that was a Norwegian that you can’t tell much. Either way, I’m in trouble now!

After just a few hours of researching her mother’s family on-line, we’re back to the 1500’s in some lines. It’s amazing what information is available on the Internet. It truly does connect the world together. I call it the Cosmic Connection.

We now have names, birth and death dates, places of birth, and a few other details about Linda’s ancestors, but we don’t have any stories about their lives. Names and dates are nice to have, but as they say, it’s the dash between the numbers that makes them come to life. I’ll keep searching for the dash. No one is going to be forgotten as long as I’m above ground.

It was great to find those Irish roots for Linda and our family. Her Irish eyes are smiling. Break out the corned beef and cabbage!