Ray O'Hanlon is editor of the Irish Echo, the oldest (established 1928) and biggest newspaper serving Irish America. The Irish Echo is printed weekly from New York and is available online at irishecho.com
New York State Comptroller Tom DiNapoli has written to the CEO's of a number of major U.S. corporations asking them what their companies have done to "eliminate ethnic or religious discrimination" in their operations in Northern Ireland.
It's not just a memory. It's a searing vision. His father is standing on top of the hill waving his cane. Slowly. And as the car carrying Michael Dowling away and out of Knockaderry slowly moves on, so does his father. He turns and walks over the crest of the hill. Away. It's an image of an emigrant's departure, a memory of what might have been a father's purest expression of love for his son. And his only expression. Michael Dowling's story is told in his recently published memoir, ‘After the Roof Caved In’.It's a story that the Irish who have left for other shores will recognize in a general sense. But the details are all Michael Dowling's. And they make for quite a read. Dowling, as many will know, is one of the most prominent Irish American community members in New York, city and state. He is President and CEO of Northwell Health, the Empire State's largest health care provider. But he is first and foremost an Irishman, a Limerick man, the son of his parents, a brother to his siblings, a husband and father. An immigrant. And, he will tell you pretty quickly into a conversation, a believer in the near sacred status of the game of hurling. Back in his boyhood, Michael Dowling would seek refuge and secure solace from a game that was a way of life in his home village of Knockaderry, County Limerick. To some it was more than just that. It was a veritable religion, a sporting faith that would give the local Catholic parish a run for the money donated by pious and mostly poor parishioners. But hurling couldn't entirely distract or take away from the fact that life in the Dowling household was devoid of virtually all the material comforts that might be expected in the Ireland of today. And there was Michael's father, a man seemingly incapable of expressing love and emotion up close and only, fleetingly and occasionally, from a hilltop."He couldn't handle emotion," says Dowling of his father. The son believes that if his father was alive today he would be diagnosed with depression. But back in the Knockaderry of his boyhood, food for the body and food for the soul as delivered by the church were the priorities. The mind had to look after itself. Michael Dowling's mind was able to do that, even as his father struggled with his.A story about a hardscrabble life in a Limerick of years ago quickly brings to mind Frank McCourt's ‘Angela's Ashes’. And there are certainly similarities between the McCourt family story in the lanes of Limerick, and the Dowling family story in the tiny village about twenty-five miles distant from the city by the Shannon. But there are differences. Despite all the daily challenges of life in the Dowling household there is a positivity in how Dowling relates the story. Indeed, there is a strain of joy running through the narrative that would hint at more Frank O'Connor than Frank McCourt. There's always some good to be found, even in the most difficult of circumstances, Dowling believes. "I've always looked for the positive, for what's possible. Yes there was heartache, but also joy," he says. "I would be happy spreading cowshit. It would strengthen me for the hurling."One of the childhood positives for Dowling came from living in a beautiful area, one of rich farmland – even if most of the small farmers themselves were far from rich. Dowling's memories, and the early ones were in the 1950s and the early '60s, include a tiny house with a door always open to friends and neighbors, of "old guys" sitting around the fireplace telling stories. "I wish those stories had all been written down," Dowling says.But while the fireside stories might be fading in memory, Michael Dowling's own story, and that of his family, has been preserved and presented for posterity. "For many years people would say that I should write down the story. The more I thought about it, well, when I started to write I found it to be therapeutic. And when I started it was hard to stop."
On 9/11 the world shuddered. That would be the world well disposed towards the United States of America.
Our US sister paper The Irish Echo published its editorial endorsement ahead of today's election in the US. As Americans go to the polls, we republish the editorial by Ray O'Hanlon below.
Was the actual deportation of Malachy McAllister an entirely legal action?
President Michael D. Higgins will formally open the online ‘Big Irish Echo Campfire’ at 4pm today (Friday)In a statement, the Irish president's office said: "By bringing together Irish American advocates and activists from across the United States, the ‘Campfire’ gathering aims not only to boost spirits during the Covid-19 pandemic, but also spark a conversation about how best to bring communities in Ireland and the USA closer together in these new circumstances and into the future."Speakers at the event will address challenges in a wide range of sectors, including business, arts, politics, sport, heritage and tourism."The Statement from Áras an Uachtaráin said that since being elected President of Ireland, President Higgins had made the Irish diaspora, and the related issue of migration, a key theme of his presidency.
