It's Bill, 3/15/26: Irish Heritage

Wondering About Heritage

When I was about 6 or 7, old enough to ask where did my parents and grandparents come from, what was my heritage? The easy answer was half English, half German. Okay, that worked for a while. What about my Great Grandparents, etc.? My maternal Grandparents were both born in Germany in the 1880’s. Okay. What about my “English” Great Grandparents? Hmm-m, wait a minute, it doesn’t matter, don’t ask about it. But one of them married the Irish maid. Shh-h.

Growing Up Around the Crew

My Dad managed a construction equipment business in New England and beyond. He started his own business in 1952 in Bolton, CT. All of his employees, mechanics, welders, yard workers were WWII Veterans. I was the boss’s son [or SOB, Son Of the Boss]. I was 8, they were 40 or so. I worked right with them, just the way it should be. Sometimes, after work, they would crack a beer. Did I want any? My Dad had already been giving me a sip or two. Sometimes, after work, we went to the bar at the Bolton Lake House, owned by some Italian brothers. I could sit at the bar with a coke. I learned bar protocol firsthand at an early age. When a woman called, the bartender’s hand went over the receiver: “No, he’s not here. No, don’t know where. Yes, I’ll tell him.” We all looked down the bar and winked.

Work, Travel, and Lessons Along the Way

High School, then more of the same at The University of Connecticut, getting beer never a problem. Summers I traveled with the crew, that was even better. I was with Sam, born on the Vermont-Canada border, his father was a trapper and guide. Traveling 2 1/2 hours each way, with Sam driving, we got to the job site at 8. For lunch we split a 6 pack. I drove back, Sam didn’t want to drink and drive. So I did, Sam handing me beers. I was 16.

My Dad sold his company to an International competitor in 1976. Off to the South Bronx I went. Yikes! My new employer was an Irishman. Everybody was either Irish, Italian or Puerto Rican, all becoming Irish on St Paddy’s Day. We had no Christmas celebrations, just go home. But St Patrick’s Day made up for it. No work, casual dress, arrive 8AM. Irish Soda Bread from the Best Jewish bakery in NYC, corned beef, Irish coffee, Jameson and Guinness. Our day was over at 9:30, free to go. Once, I went to the NYC St Patrick’s parade. Never again, too many drunks.

A Favorite Day of the Year

I’ve always taken great pride in my Irish heritage, particularly on St. Patrick’s Day. It is perhaps my favorite non-holiday along with Halloween, Superbowl and the Kentucky Derby. Just plain fun, taking on its own persona.

On St Patrick’s Day, Patricia and I will have Skillet Irish Soda Bread with raisins, corned beef [flatcut], cabbage, potatoes, carrots. And appropriate beverages. Personally, Prosecco goes well with everything.

Slainte.