They’re wild and they’re gentle; They’re proud and they’re humble; They’re happy and sad. They’re in love with the ocean, the earth and the skies; They’re enamored with beauty, wherever it lies.
They’re victor and victim, a star and a clod; But mostly they’re IRISH. In love with their God.
— Author Unknown
If you take a peek at the calendar you will see that the religious and festive holiday of St. Patrick’s Day is “river-dancing” toward us once again. So, forget about preparing your income tax, cancel your visit to your mother-in-law’s and sidebar your reminders of the Olympics brouhaha. Instead I suggest that you practice conjuring up images of shamrocks, leprechauns, shillelaghs, and the color green (the symbol of the Irish) during your entire waking hours.
In addition, you must practice the expression “May the luck of the Irish be with ye” before, during and after every meal until you get the lilt just right. It must be said with warmth, grace and conviction. When ready, aim that greeting smilingly at everyone you meet. And follow these finite instructions the moment you finish reading this column.
Continue until you see the clock’s little hand and big hand embracing fondly at the stroke of midnight at the emergence of March 17. If you follow all these instructions to the letter, you would be extolling your Irish heritage if you were Irish or, enrolled as an adopted son or daughter of Erin, if you were not. In either event, you would then be eligible to partake in any and all sacred privileges contained therein in the sacred book of Irish tradition.
“What are the privileges?” you ask. To start off, the men will finally be able to wear that lime-colored tie given to them by their wives as an expression of their love. The women may unashamedly strut around in the chartreuse dress their Aunt Beryl gave them on their Sweet 16. And, some people may even be able to walk in those slightly used green sandals that cousin Gerard bought at a sale and donated to you when he found his feet two sizes too large for them.
There is much more. You must also “show the flag” by pinning a “Kiss me, I’m Irish” button on your person, attack with gusto a Gaelic corned beef and cabbage meal, and finally show your Irish spirit by walking proudly behind Mayor Michael Bloomberg as he marches in this year’s 241st St. Patrick’s Day parade.
Most people who complete the initiation do partake in these activities because it is a known fact that on St. Patrick’s Day, everyone is Irish. “Why and how did all this begin?” you inquire. Relax while I give you a short history on the subject.
St. Patrick’s Day is one of the oldest holidays observed in the United States, but not older than our grand Irishman, Ed Koch. It originated centuries ago in Ireland, and was brought to the United States by Irish immigrants. St. Patrick, strange as it may seem, was not Irish. He was born in Scotland sometime around 385 A.D., and was the son of a Roman government worker.
At that time, the Romans were too weak militarily to defend all of their vast holdings, and Scotland was regularly raided by none other than the Irish. In one such raid, Patrick, a boy of 16, was seized and carried off to Ireland as a slave. Years later he escaped, but eventually returned to Ireland as a missionary.
Patrick worked with the Irish for almost 40 years, and by the time of his death, which is believed to be in 46l, he was beloved throughout the land. Besides the Christian faith, Patrick brought Ireland reading, writing, (not ‘rithmetic), and the Latin language. Although Patrick did many wonderful things, he did not originate the Irish sweepstakes.
During the Dark Ages, the fifth through the 10th centuries, the Irish, originally taught by Patrick, played a large role in preserving Roman knowledge. Following Patrick’s death on March 17, the Irish set that day as a holiday to celebrate the life of their colorful patron.
Subsequently, those Irish-Americans who immigrated to this country brought with them their customs, beliefs and the observance of St. Patrick’s Day. Parades were staged in honor of the saint in New York and Boston as early as 1737, and to this day the tradition continues. (New York City held its first St. Patrick’s Day parade in 1852).
Irish immigrants, incidentally, were a major force in our Revolutionary War. More than half of the colonists who fought the British were Irish. And there were more Irish who signed the Declaration of Independence than there were signers of any other descent.
The Irish historically had large populations. There were so many Irish in the city of Boston that on March 17, 1776, when the British were evacuating the city, Gen. George Washington designated “Boston” as the password of the day for compatriots, and “St. Patrick” as the countersign.
Today, we still honor this grand day with style. Florist shops are filled with green carnations, taverns serve green beer, and my favorite snack, Snow Balls, exchange their coats of pink for ones tinted green.
So, at this appropriate time, I dedicate to all my “Irish” readers — and that means everyone — this venerable Irish blessing: “May you have warm words on a cold evening. A full moon on a dark night. And a downhill road all the way to your door.”
Gloria and I personally wish that March 17 be a day of sustained happiness and dedication for all. May the luck of the Irish be with you. Have a happy and very green St. Patrick’s Day. Erin go Bragh!
Reach columnist Alex Berger by e-mail at TimesLedger@aol.com or call 229-0300, Ext. 140.
