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St. Nicholas's Church
Carrick-en Suir, County Tipperary. We have an 11 o'clock appointment at St. Nicholas Church in Carrick-en-Suir, County Tipperary, but it may be difficult to make it; my back and hip are in total spasm and every movement sends pain down my left leg. At breakfast, (I wouldn't miss that would I?) Ann-Marie gives us the name and location of her physiotherapist and we make a small detour to see if I can get an appointment. The receptionist is wonderfully kind and takes our phone number in case she has any cancellations or can fit me in. We are now going to be a bit late and John is doing his level best to make good time on the twisty and narrow road when we run into 1) roadwork, 2) an accident blocking the road, and 3) a train gate down for a phantom train that never appears. After several telephone exchanges we finally make it to the church office and wait patiently for Father Richard who himself is running late. The wait isn't really difficult at all as his staff is extremely cheerful, helpful, and funny. In the end, we are directed to meet Father Richard (everyone just calls him Richard) at the church itself.
St. Nicholas is a big church and we have no idea where we are to meet Richard when he comes bounding out apologizing for being in his "civies" (jeans and trainers,) enthusiastically shakes John's hand, gives me a big hug and a kiss on the cheek and begins a mile-a-minute explanation of the record books along with a running list of all the cities he has visited in California and the US. Then, with another handshake, kiss on the cheek, and our promise to email him any findings, he is off. And here we are with a stack of record books-the oldest ones written in Latin-in one of the back rooms of the church.
Three or so hours later we are both cross-eyed and have gone through every book. I have spent a lot of the time lying on the floor, stretching out over the table, standing up, and doing anything I can to try to get my back to release when finally I start getting some bone-grinding cracking noises out of my neck. I am sure it was divine intervention. Our research is not going as well as my bone-cracking, however. In the end we have established several
Faugheen
John's great great grandfather, was baptized in Faugheen. lines of Kennedys but we are fairly certain that John's branch did not live in Carrick-en-Suir, at least for any length of time, and we cannot find a record that will establish a relationship.
However, when we were waiting for Richard, the office staff had told us that there were two churches with old graveyards in Faugheen. They also directed us to Ahenny - the site of the original Irish Crosses. It is mid-afternoon and we haven't had lunch, but what the heck? We search the grave yard, find nothing and then go on to the Irish Crosses. As so often happens with these wonderful monuments, they are unobtrusive, just a small graveyard in a rural neighborhood and in it stands the original Irish North and South Crosses. We spend as much time as the cruel wind and cold will allow, and really, that idea of skipping lunch wasn't so great after all. The idea of some chips and curry from Stony Kebabish in Stonyford sounds truly vacation-decadent. So we head back to Stonyford, get our chips with curry, park in the lane next to an old castle (a Kennedy one?) and try to figure out how John can
Ahenny
These wonderful topiaries border a house opposite the Irish Crosses. climb the railing without getting entirely snarled in the briars. We even go as far as abandoning the warmth of the car and in the end decide just to look. We have been invited by Ann-Marie and Mark to join them for a home-cooked dinner and we don't want to arrive late or broken. Sadly, we also have to start getting packed up for the next part of our trip.
It is hard for John to leave County Kilkenny and County Tipperary. This trip he has really gotten immersed in Ireland, feeling that it is more and more a part of him. Tomorrow we leave for Drogheda, north of Dublin, to visit friends for the week-end. His time in Ireland is drawing to a close--at least until the next time.
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