As a rule, Irishmen only cry at football games. But on a recent walk around New York City, I ended up publicly emoting, with nary a football in sight.
In the middle of downtown Manhattan’s financial district, was a springtime Irish hillside, complete with a tumbledown stone cottage, bracken and grasses.
It was a tiny park, the Irish Hunger Memorial, containing stones from every county in Ireland.
During the Great Famine of 1847 and the exodus that followed, as one and a half million died, and two million more fled, many found shelter on these very quaysides of the Hudson River in New York City.
(READ the tribute to the Irish in New York City, on Irish Central )
Thanks for posting, Geri- my grandma came to America from Ireland when she was only fifteen, but her mom had to stay in Ireland, and I constantly marvel at her bravery and always wear green and remember her on St. Patrick’s Day:-) Please pray for her, my grandpa, my amazing mom and dad, my wonderful family and friends, Brad (who is amazing), Shannon (who is also amazing), and all the other amazing people in our lives, including Jackson (a boy at my church who is sick- go to http://www.caringbridge.org and type in Jackson Laskowski to sign his guestbook), Jack, Alison and her family, Molly and her family, Melissa, Kim, Stephanie, Monique, Taia, Abby, Andrea, Ben, Geri, Sarah, all Brad’s friends, and everyone we all care about- I am always praying for you guys- drive extra safe and have a great day- God bless you all!:-)