My maternal grandfather was born in Ireland. Years ago, my Mom had been here and she took a picture of the ancestral home being used as a farm building. The area was clearly not a tourist destination. But, on a whim, I asked a few cousins if they had any info about Grandpa. After poking around on line, and with info and encouragement from my dear cousin Regina, we trundled off to Saint Mary’s Church Newmarket Co Cork, established in 1840.

Great! Grandpa was born in 1881–surely they will have records! The Irish priests kept literature alive throughout the Dark Ages. Surely they will have a scribbled line somewhere about my Grandfather’s humble birth from 140 years ago?

A very helpful lady in the office, Breda, looked at the records. Nope. “Daniel Murphy” is kinda the Irish equivalent of John Smith. (Andrew actually *had* an uncle John Smith.) But Breda asked enough questions to determine we were at the wrong church. As it happened, she had lived nearby his actual birthplace and knew the right church, Immaculate Conception a few kilometers away. So she made a call. Sure enough: that church did have a record of his birth and baptism!

We drive over to second church, Immaculate Conception in Boherbue, Co Cork

There is no office. It’s a new building from the 1970’s. A sprinkling of women in the church participating in Adoration of the Eucharist. Just as I was thinking, “Poop. A dead end…” someone from the congregation tells me where the office is: outside of town. In fact, she leads us there in her own car! We get there and second church lady, Moira,  is still in her office despite posted sign that she should have closed forty minutes ago. She kindly ushers us in, shows us the record and lets us photograph it.

Talk about the luck of Irish:

My sweet and helpful cousins in Chicago had Grandpa’s date of birth and small hamlet, Lisrobin.

Breda at first church knew right church and called ahead for us.

Moira at the next church remained past her noon closing time!

A few coincidences:

I spotted a statue of Bernadette outside Immaculate Conception.

Mom’s oldest sister was Bernadette.Baptismal sponsor for my Grandfather was Margarita Murphy. Mom’s next sister was Marguerite.

Just outside of Moira’s office is Mother Mary’s Grotto. (My mother was Mary/Merry.) And there was a Grotto at Saint Scholastica High School where Mom and her 8 sisters (!) had all gone to high school in Chicago. The Grotto was a very meaningful, special place to us McShane girls whenever we got up to Scholastica’s which we did because our Aunt Bernie (remember her?) was the principal there when she was Sister Judith.

Grandpa Murphy left rural Ireland a poor young man, emigrating to Chicago. He worked hard, met a lovely Chicago girl and fell in love. Elsie and Dan had 10 kids. Nine daughters, one son, young Daniel, who was lost in a submarine in WWII. I named our son after those two men. Grandpa worked his way up through the Chicago Police Department to from the beat to Precinct Captain. While working full time and expanding that family, he went to law school, graduating valedictorian. (I think this says **loads** about my Grandma, holding down the fort!) He had his own successful law firm into the 1950’s.

He went pretty far, coming from such humble beginnings. Pretty sure I have a load of second cousins nearby. Surely there are kajillions of Murphys.

But with 45 first cousins all over the States, that enough!

Guess it can be said that I am Irish, I am Murphy and I am stout. Glad to have some recognition!