Roddy McCorley
Ethna Carberry (adapted by The Clancy Brothers)
My paternal grandmother was of Irish descent. Her family came from County Cork, I believe. She was a strict Catholic, a teetotaller and may have given donations to the IRA, not uncommon in those days in Boston and other cities with substantial Irish populations. As a child, I went to Mass and danced to the rebel songs. As a teenager, I learned to sing some of them. They are stirring songs and I enjoy them still. There was a period in which I did not sing them, being only too aware that the IRA used terrorist tactics. But I would not lose this part of my history and culture.
O, see the fleet-foot hosts of men who speed with faces wan
From farmstead and from fisher's cot along the banks of Bann.
They come with vengeance in their hearts, too late, too late are they.
For young Roddy McCorley goes to die on the Bridge of Toom today.
Up the narrow street he stepped, smiling proud and young,
About the hemp rope on his neck the golden ringlets clung.
There's never a tear in his blue eye, both glad and bright are they
As young Roddy McCorley goes to die on the Bridge of Toom today.
When he last stepped up that street, his shining pike in hand,
Behind him marched in grim array a stalwart earnest band.
For Antrim town, for Antrim town, he led them to the fray.
And young Roddy McCorley goes to die on the Bridge of Toom today.
There is never a one of all your dead more proudly fell in fray
Than he who marches to his death on the Bridge of Toom today.
True to the last, true to the last he treads the upward way,
And young Roddy McCorley goes to die on the Bridge of Toom today.
Florida, 1973
I didn’t have the best of times when Tom, Dion and I were staying with Grammy in Florida.
For one thing, Grandpa hadn’t gotten out of bed the morning we left Saugus to come south. It turned out he had had a stroke. I wanted to go back north, to be there, but I wasn’t financially independent. I think if Grammy had supported me, Tom would have let me go, but she didn’t. And I had very little money.
Deltona, the town Grammy was living in, was largely built for retirees from the north. Often, there would be a car licence plate hanging from the mailbox or attached to the wall next to the front door, to indicate what state the occupants had retired from. The streets were set out in a grid, there was a limited range of house designs and colors and it was easy to get lost. Which happened to me one night. Tom and I had been visiting a couple in Daytona and on the way back we had a disagreement. When we got to Deltona, I insisted on being let out of the car to walk off my mood.
I could not find my way to Grammy’s house. There was nothing to act as a landmark. It was midnight and most houses were dark. Finally, starting to feel a bit frightened, I noticed a light on in what I was sure was a living room, so I knocked on the door. The woman who answered seemed pretty annoyed, but she did direct me to Grammy’s street.
Grammy, Dion and Kelly, 1973
I tried getting involved in community things. I crocheted a blanket and put it up for sale in the craft shop in Deland but I didn’t get to know any of the other crafters.
I joined the Orlando Symphony Orchestra, which rehearsed every Wednesday evening, but there didn’t seem to be any socialising.
I studied Judaism, mainly to placate Tom’s family. The young rabbi was nice enough, but apart from him, I didn’t meet any of the other members of the Jewish community.
Tom got a job helping to install air conditioners. Grammy was still working then. This meant it was just me and Dion at home all day, which was somewhat of a relief.
One afternoon, I was in the backyard, just me and Dion. It was a beautiful, clear day. Something in the sky caught my attention and I looked up to see a rocket arcing across the sky. It was the launch of an Apollo mission! I was riveted. I thought to myself, “If nothing else, you are witnessing history.” It was a balm to me.
I did fly back north to spend Christmas at my grandmother’s house. While I was there, I resolved to end the marriage with Tom. It wasn’t a popular decision – divorce among my maternal side of the family was rare. As for Grammy – it was bad enough that I had married a non-Catholic, but divorcing him was worse.
In the new year of 1974, I got a job at a factory in Lynn and my own apartment about a 15 minute walk away. I was in for a difficult nine months, which is another story.
Afterword
In 2025, I got a communication from my cousin Linda Baker that she had a copy of Grammy and Pappy's marriage certificate.
