The Scotch-Irish in me!

Yep, Scotch-Irish, that interesting breed of people whose ancestors originated in Scotland and moved to Northern Ireland for work opportunities.
I am descended from this proud group. They came to America to work in the coal mines of West Virginia. A lot of them then migrated to other parts of what would become the United States.
My dad was one of this ilk. He was proud of his heritage, as he should have been.
When he was about sixty five he and my step-mother went to the British Isles and toured. While in Scotland he presented his credentials to the Lord of the Clan (Buchanan) and became an official member. Oh my, I wish I could have seen him at that ceremony! What a sight. I am sure there were tears shed on that day!

My mother was Irish, through and through. Her ancestors originated in Ireland and came over before the potato famine of the 1840's. She too comes from stock that settled in the Ozark mountains of Missouri. She never claimed these plain folk. When asked where she was from she always said "New York City." I have an inkling as why she was ashamed of her roots. I have cousins who are an interesting conglomeration. They are "ridge runners" who still make moonshine. Colorful, yes, proud, definitely. My mother was proud. Proud of her achievements and her Irish heritage but she did lack tolerance sometimes.

I bring all of this up because today I read of the death of Frank McCourt, author of "Angela's Ashes". He was a remarkable man, he taught school and wrote beautiful, tear jerking prose. He was steeped in all things Irish. He reminds many of us to remember our roots, honor those who went before and say thank you, thank you, thank you for our heritage!