CRADLE
OF HOPE by Tom Roberts
At some point in our lives most of
us wonder where we came from, how our families arrived in this country,
this
state, this town. For me it happened fifteen years ago, when I was
losing my
first-generation parents, aunts and uncles. All four of my Irish
grandparents
had emigrated and neither they nor their children had spoken much of
where they
came from or why.
In the
early 1990s I began my search for answers to those unanswered,
sometimes
unasked, questions. It took me through birth, marriage and death
records,
shipping manifests, citizenship forms, rectories and offices over here
and over
there, where they either embraced my curiosity or found me another
thorn in
their crown. My search produced a few “
Eureka!”
moments and even more frustrations. It still goes on.
On a rainy
afternoon in 1993 at 2
nd Story
Theatre, I shared shelter
from a
storm with another actor, Gerard Campbell.
Ten years earlier he had done what my grandparents had
undertaken a
century before, left
Ireland
and come to
Rhode Island.
From
our damp conversation that day came an idea to create a play about the
passage
we shared in some time-warped way. Our investigation led us to the
noted
historian Kerby Miller, who had amassed thousands of letters from and
to those
daring Irish men and women who had risked everything on the hope that
life across
the ocean offered opportunities beyond the famine, disease and
oppression that
were their prospects at home.
Some never
made it to
America.
Others did but met disillusionment no better
than what they had left. Most clung to their hope and found, if not the
life of
their dreams, a reality that would sustain them and their descendants.
We are
the testament to their hope.
While they
are gone and their memories with them, they left behind some remarkable
documents that collectively tell their story. Their letters home
to Ireland
range from vaunting testimonials to gold-paved streets to abject
apologies for
failing to send money. The correspondence
from
Ireland
reflects a level of deprivation and desperation that we can barely
imagine.
Some of them are single letters, leaving today’s reader unable to
fathom the
fate of the writer. Other exchanges go on for years and provide full
family
histories, with outcomes both sad and satisfying. Families are
reunited, new
families begun, people are born and people die. Life goes on.
The
immigrant experience is one that virtually all Americans share. Many
leave
behind some record. What these Irish letters afford us that most other
nationalities’ do not is that the words we read today more than a
century later
are their very words, written in English. For accounts in other
languages, most
Americans must rely on skillful translations made many years after the
fact,
undoubtedly accurate yet missing the pain or the passion of the
original
authors. Take these letters then as a glimpse into lives we will never
fully
know, but lives that reflect the state of hope that brought our
ancestors here
to our own State of
Hope.
Percival, John. The
Great Famine: Ireland's
Potato Famine 1845-51. New
York::Viewer
Books, 1995.
Woodham-Smith, Cecil.