The stomping ground
Going back to where it all started
I am always trying to improve myself and how I do things in genealogy. One of those things is writing about my ancestors and trying to do their memory justice.
Today (August 16th is when I started writing this), I went up to what my paternal grandparents and their parents called home for many years. It just so happened to be the birthday of my grandfather’s mother, Ellen. My great-grandmother Ellen was born on August 16th, 1885 — the 9th (and last) child of Michael Noone and Margaret Conlon in Treenduff, Bohola, Mayo [where the above photo was taken]. She had two sisters, Kate [1878] & Mary [1881] and had six brothers, Thomas [1869], Patrick [1870] Michael [1871], John [1873], Pat [1873] and Michael [1876].
They lived on a farm in Treenduff and had one outhouse and a barn.
In the 1901 Census, I found Michael & Margaret with three of their children: Michael, Mary and Ellen living in Toorcananagh.
On December 13th, 1909 - Ellen lost her mother, Margaret, who died aged 63 from rheumatism, although this was not certified.
Just a little over two weeks before the 1911 Census, Ellen had married my great-grandfather, John Loftus - a farmer of Rosslevin, Bohola.
John moved into the family home in Treenduff and lived with Michael and Ellen. I found Michael Noone with his daughter Ellen and new son-in-law John.
John and Ellen went on to have eight children together. My grandfather, Michael was the 7th child.
Whenever we return to the ‘old house’ (as my Dad calls it), Dad likes to tell us a new story we haven’t heard. When my grandparents married in 1955, they moved with their young daughter to England in 1957, creating a new life there. A few of Grandad’s siblings did the same. But before that, my grandfather was still living with his parents & in 1954, they built the ‘old house’ (but it’s the newer looking of the two). My grandfather helped build it and had an eye for detail, adding little shards of pebbledash-style glass in the wall, there were two little bedrooms, a kitchen, a ‘front room’ and the ‘posh room’.
I didn’t have many stories of my great-grandparents but thankfully I still had an email from one of my Dad’s cousins who remembered her very well & described her in-depth.
He said that she would always wear a longish black skirt with a white blouse and a dark-coloured cardigan with her grey hair tucked up in a bun. According to him, he understood that Ellen had lost an eye at some point & had an artificial one but he didn’t notice it. Two little anecdotes he included were that he remembered Ellen used to smoke a pipe and recalled her sitting on a box where she kept all the bits for the pipe. He remembers being instructed by Ellen that if anyone were to ask him what she was doing to tell them “Granny is doing her teeth.”
The other one was about her drinking a mug of tea. She’d leave the mug to sit on her knee and he’d sit waiting for it to fall / spill. But she never spilt a drop and the mug never fell. He still wonders to this day how she managed to do it.
When Ellen and her husband, John died in 1963 and 1957 (respectively) - the house went to my granduncle Luke who lived there until he died in 1984. Ellen, John and Luke are all buried in St Joseph’s Cemetery, Bohola.
We had then gone to the home where my grandmother’s parents died. My grandmother, Annie-Mae, was born on October 30th, 1923. She grew up a few kilometres away from my grandfather in a townland outside Kiltimagh, called Ballure. This was not the house where she was born as that was only down the road from this one, but just wanted to state that before!
She was the fifth of seven children to James Carney and Delia Lavin.
I don’t have many stories about this part of the family, but one was about the middle child James and it surrounded how he died. James was only 2 years and 5 months old when he died. On James’ death entry, he’s recorded as dying from a ‘septic wound of nostril’. From what I heard from my Dad and my uncle, it was a freak accident and he either fell onto a nail or got hit with one somehow. My grandmother wasn’t born yet as James died in March 1923 and my grandmother was born that October, but no one ever seemed to speak about it. Nobody in my immediate family knows much about the eldest child Anthony either apart from what I’ve told them.
The other one was about my grandfather James, who like Delia had emigrated to New York (and James just missed being on the 1910 US Census by about a week too! Delia emigrated in 1908). They married there on November 10th 1912 but both moved back to Ireland less than a year later. Delia was pregnant with Anthony when she was going back.
My Dad has a vague memory of his grandfather James when his family used to go back to Ireland and can remember what he looked like. I’m waiting for a machine that could take a screenshot of a memory so I can have a photo of James as we do not have any photos of James or Delia and likely will never have any. Neither Bridget’s nor Teresa’s daughters have any photos of them.
When Delia and James died in 1965 & 1970 (respectively), they were buried in Kilkinure Cemetery in Kiltimagh, Mayo. Their son Paddy was also buried with them when he died in 2006.
But, in Mayo, it’s peaceful — it feels familiar. I’ve been going down to Mayo for as long as I can remember. It’s one of those places where I feel the connection to those who came before me. It’s one of the stomping grounds in my family. Where would they be for you?
What a great post Daniel. So good to see you recording the stories of your ancestors. Futyre generations will appreciate your diligence.
Great job Daniel you have inspired me to try writing up my family history one story at a time. Thank you for sharing