Music • Stories • History • Viewpoint • Dance • Sport • Photos • Midwest Notes • Commerce Trader
| Stories of our past. It's what gives us an anchor to our past and a gateway to our future. Millions of Irish immigrants came to North America during the 19th century. And in many cases, all they could bring with them were their stories. A tie to the past, unbreakable only if it were preserved. That's why this section exists. | |||
Mike "Ezra" Micham with Nancee Walker-Micham
Well, for me, we're drawn to [Ireland] like a salmon is up a back-up stream. Really. Just got that feeling
Nancee: The only thing I know — and [Mike] knows lots more than me — my grandmother, we got her to talking before she passed away and what she remembers is her grandfather had flaming red hair and talked funny. And we tried to say now, was it a kind of an Irish brogue or an English [accent]? And she wasn't sure. But the flaming red hair — and her maiden name is Burgess, which is almost English or Welsh. But that was her father's name, so I don't know what her mother's maiden name was. Because this was her mom's dad. What she remembers is flying down on the bannister on the stairs and him yelling at her. He talked funny and he had flaming red hair. So I don't know if that's Irish or English — if I delved into it I know I could find out.
The Walker — that's Scotch-Irish. And that's on my dad's side. So that's Scotch-Irish, French and Indian. A lot of Indian. 'Cause they come from Oklahoma. Now [Mike] has a lot more.
Mike: I'm originally from Michigan. I haven't lived in the Ozarks my whole life. Grand Traverse City area. Grand Traverse County and all the relatives that settled up there settled turn of the century. Matter of fact, they've had roads named after them. Cracker [pronounced Kray-ker], which is Scotch-Irish, McMacken, which originally was Macken, because when we went to Ireland we could not find any McMackens, which is "son of" that would be son-of-Macken, but we found a lot of Mackens all over the place. Mainly in the northern part; Northern Ireland.
Coming Over From Ireland.
He came over in 1812. My relative, my ancestory. My three-times great-grandfather. In Eighteen and Twelve as a young man and we found out he was a mason, and he came over to Canada before he come to the United States. He came to work on the canals — they had a canal system up there in Canada. He more than likely got free passage because he was a mason, or worked in that trade. Because that's what they were looking for. And I have no idea if he was in any kind of trouble, if he was a Finian, (which is like the IRA now) or have no idea if maybe....
He was at that age. If he was a little bit on the rough side, he might have been part of that bunch. But he was in Downpatrick and we know by going over there and visiting, which is in County Down, in Northern Ireland, that was a pretty, what's the word? There was always something happening between the Brits and the Irish. It was a major place where they would have them tried and hung or sent off, you know, sent away in prison ships.
But anyway, he came over and eventually they worked their way down into northern Michigan. Before the bridge, [he] came over on a boat. And settled in northern Michigan, up there in the Grand Traverse Bay area, in a place called Old Mission, which is a 30-mile peninsula and its — the area is so much like where they came from that you can see why they settled it. This hills and the green, the forests and the water, you know, you can see why they settled it. And the relatives on the Cracker's side, my mom's mom's side, they worked with a missionary and he was Irish too and his name slips me — I was just reading about him; somebody sent me a book about the area — [he] started a mission for the Indians, to bring Christianity to the Indians and the most part of them were either Irish or Scandinavian. And then they got a mission started on Old Mission Peninsula, they got in their boats, and they went across Grand Traverse Bay which is about a 40-mile traverse, which is where Grand Traverse gets its name (from the French meaning traversing) and they landed in a place called Omena which is in the North Port Point — huge peninsula — and that's where they pretty much landed and settled and then where my roots come from.
Into Michigan.
So that's when the McMackens and the Crackers got together. And the music, my mom has it and I have an uncle or two that they kept it. I think Grandpa McMacken was a working man more than a musician. So the music really didn't — I mean, my mom kept it but I think it came from someone before [him] or was in her soul too. Because like I said, he was a working man. He took life seriously. He had to out there. I mean, that was like living in Alaska back then. Northern Michigan is a — there was only one way out and one way back. And some of them lived on an island out in Lake Michigan, North Manitou Island, it's called, and that was like an iceberg in the wintertime. That's when the lakes would freeze over completely, you know. They'd get their mail by sled dog in the winter time. It was tough in the summer on the sled dogs, yeah. Had to hold their breaths.
My grandfather said if I could make money at talking I would make a million dollars and that was a nice way of saying it. He was speaking in cursive when he said it. I thought you could only write cursive, I didn't know you could speak it.
Back To Downpatrick.
I'm proud of it. We got to go back, my wife, Nancee, and my son, Nathan, and I all got to go back to Ireland and we stood on the place in Downpatrick, at the quay or key. And the man that was there that I told you was possibly my relative — shares the same name as my relative — took us to a place that was a ticket house. Of course, old things don't mean much to them a whole lot. I mean, it needed repair. And he took us to the ticket house where my relative would have bought his ticket to get passage to get on the little schooner that would have took him out to the main ship. Because the quay was too shallow for the ships — the large ships. And then more than likely, he bought his ticket, boarded and got on the ship and went to Liverpool, England, which is where they would take the goods of Ireland that they did have and supply the English motherland. And then they'd come to the United States or Canada. But we all got to stand there at that same spot, you know, my son and me.
And that book of our area has a picture on the front cover that looks an awful lot like — it's a painting of Omena which is in northern Michigan near Traverse City, which is where a lot of Irish settled. But it looks so much like this quay in Downpatrick that it's deja vu. It'd be like being there before.
And the old dictionary, I'm not sure how long ago they quit putting it in there, the old Webster's Dictionary. "Michigan dirt farmer" was the definition of hillbilly. An Irish Michigan dirt farmer. Hillbilly. So I came to the right place. There's hillbillies in Michigan.
That sense of humor is in our family too. That Irish humor —
Nancee: They laugh at death. I mean people died there all the time so they had to have a sense of humor about it. You know, all their songs about dying and yes, you lament the death but it's part of living. I mean, what are you going to do? But that wry, dry sense of humor.
Mike: That sense of humor. It gets them by. It does a whole lot, you know. They made songs that they laugh and cry in the same phrase, almost. You know, when we went over there we were kind of searching for what it was that was drawing us over there to begin with and I'm still not really sure what it is. It's just something that, I don't know if it's in the air and you feel it or...
Nancee: Like you've been there. Like going home.
Mike: Like going home. Every time too.
Nancee: We could have very easily lived there. If we didn't have all our family here or ties here or we'd very easily be happy there.
Mike: Found something to do and a place to live and and like you said, the people were friendly. But they were cautious. And they didn't expect much of you, but didn't want you to offer too much either, you know. So we kind of sat back and observed for a little bit, you know. And a lot of the words and things, like figuring out words for songs and things, like holler, halla. "Halla" is like "hallway" in old Gaelic. Can you imagine one of these fellers in Appalachia or somewhere and somebody giving directions and the guy's asking how do I get to such-and-such a place and he goes, "Straight down the halla." You know, a holler is like a hallway. Trees high on both sides.
Old sayings, like, have you ever heard, "By Hook or by Crook?" Well, we were over there in a place called Bano in the southern part of Ireland, in Wexford County, There's two points, one's called Hook and the other is called Crook. And what we were told when we were down there was they would get into trouble out on the ships, in the weather and stuff, and they was going to try to get to safe harbour by Hook or by Crook. Through one of these peninsulas. So you go back there and you find stuff out where the sayings come from. It's not been that long since folks were talking like that.
Nancee: Like Crack, you know what Crack means in Gaelic? It's spelled C-r-a-i-c; it's fun. Craic, is fun. You know, we had good craic last night. Well, and then here we say, "that cracks me up" or "you're a cracker." [It means] To be funny with people.
Mike: My grandfather very rarely talked about — because he would have been a next-generation, you know. Now on my mom's side, he seemed to know a little bit more about that. He passed away — my great-grandfather Cracker — he passed away a little bit earlier. But he was a crackpot. He was so funny. He was Irish. He pulled the ultimate Irish joke on them in his death.
Getting Lost In Chicago.
Great-grandpa Cracker — they all lived in Michigan. My great-grandmother passed away eventually and left him by himself in this big house. And as time went on all the other relatives started moving out west. So he got to where — he could still take care of himself — but he had a big house and was kind of lonely so my grandfather — mom's dad — invited them to come live with them in their place out in Las Vegas. And for years, when my great-grandfather Cracker would go to visit people who were moving out west, he would avoid Chicago because he was afraid that him and great-grandma Cracker were going to get lost.
So they would always take the long way around, which would be like Indianapolis and then go out west. They were using trains back then — never flown — I don't think he ever flew. So he went out to visit two or three times and make the extra long journey because he wanted to avoid Chicago, which would have been just a hop, skip and a jump compared to going to Indianapolis. So eventually he moved out there and he stayed and he enjoyed a good life, got to talk to them a little bit and he passed away.
And that was another big to-do. Him passing away. That was another Irish thing. When he passed away, he wanted to be cremated. Well, that's not a good Catholic thing to do. You're supposed to be buried. Bodily. So he wanted to be cremated and my aunt thought he should be buried even though it was his wishes to be cremated. So my one uncle stood up for my aunt and my other uncle (brothers) stood up for my great-grandfather, and of course there was a little bit of liquor involved and the fight was on.
So my two uncles went at it, I guess. And they was fighting and fighting and they dragged one of them — they finally went up — another uncle interjected and dragged the other one into a truck to take him home because he'd had too much to drink. And he got him in the truck and and he went around to get in and he was in the truck on his back and when my other uncle went to get in the truck, he kicked him in the ribs and busted a bunch of ribs. So he ended up going to the hospital. So that an Irish — these brothers fighting. So there's an Irish story right in there, you know.
Anyway, so the funeral was set. He was of course going to be taken back to Omena, and cremated, which is what his wishes were. So the memorial and everything happened back in Omena, in Michigan, where he was from. So there were going to fly his ashes from Las Vegas where they were staying. So everybody showed up. Everybody went back to Omena and they were all waiting around. Everybody showed up for the funeral.
Except for my great-grandfather's ashes. They never showed up. Well, they had put them on a plane and they went through Chicago and they got lost. I mean, if that ain't the last laugh. And to this day, I'll tell my mom, I'll say, "I want to go back to his tombstone and write down at the bottom of it, 'I told you so.'" Because that is what he would have said. That's the kind of jokester he was.
So he even got them in the spirit world.
Nancee: Your mom — she still doesn't think that's funny...
Mike: Yeah, and that's funny, you know. They lost that...
Nancee: I know. They don't think that's funny. "Oh, that's awful." It's hysterical! They found him!
Mike: They lost that little Irish thing there that we got back again. You know, it's like when we filmed my grandfather and grandma's 50th wedding anniversary. When those things first came out — these [video] cameras — so somebody had the camera and didn't know how to use it so when it was on it was off and when it was off it was on.
And I'm sitting there, the only one — everybody else in the room is going "Oh, this is terrible. This is awful." Well, I mean, here it is, it's like "Oh, get that, there's a good picture, get it!" and click, it'd go off! And then the next thing it'd go on and it would be sitting on a desk somewhere and nobody — and it would just be sitting there and halfway through it I'd see these two guys and all you can see is their bellies and they're telling a joke and to each other and laughing and all you can see is their bellies shaking up and down. Then you hear somebody say "Oh, there's Aunt Sharon, get a picture of her!" and it gets picked up and turned to her and you see her there for a second and it goes off!
So this whole video tape is off when it's on and on when it's off. And I'm sitting there just dying laughing, rolling, and I said "This is great stuff," and everybody saying "Oh, what a shame."
You know what? I want a copy.
But it's a big family. Ten kids. And you can see the Irish in them. I don't know if you've heard the term Black Irish. Short. Dark-haired. And what they say is that's the indigenous peoples of Ireland. Before the Celts, even. Like maybe more related to the Northern Tribes and the Mongolian folks who managed to go when the ice caps came. They're thinking that they are part of that. And the Celtic people even invaded later. And of course the Scandinavians. The Normans. You know, it's such a mixture of people. But it's funny. The Irish were treated just as bad as anybody else who has come to this country. Or worse. We were dirt. And everybody seems to forget it.
I've been playing [music] since I was about seven. I picked it up and put it down and picked it up and put it down. Played a little rock and roll. But I enjoy the folk music. I like the sad ballads more than anything. I don't know why it is. I enjoy funny songs. They're fun to play, you know, but I like songs that get to your heart. Like "Daisy A Day" is an Irish-sounding song, even though it was written by an American. I mean it's such a sweet song. And then that guy takes a daisy up — I'll give you a daisy a day, dear, a daisy a day, and he takes the daisy up to the top of the hill...to the place where she's buried.
May 15, 2006
|
Home •
Stories • Recent Articles
• Illinois to Ireland
Tim Miles • Our Heritage, Our Stories Charles "Chic" Thomson with Lynn Hunt • From Michigan to Missouri to Downpatrick Mike "Ezra" Micham with Nancee Walker-Micham
• Lucas Days, Part I
Jim Danner |
|||
| Mike "Ezra" Micham is an accomplished musician on many instruments, namely the guitar, mandolin, fiddle, upright bass, pennywhistle and the bazouki (a sort of Irish bass mandolin). Mike and his wife, Nancee Walker-Micham live near Taneyville, Missouri. |
||||
|
• MidwestIrish.com is a part of Lucky13Studios Design Family. For more information, see JoshuaHeston.com•
|
||||