Happy Saint Patrick's Day!

As some of you know, my one real hobby is climbing my family tree looking for nuts the horse thieves that supposedly got hung.  I've found lots of the former, none of the latter.  My family tree is not a stump or a shrub, and it definitely forks--along most branches.  And I've found lots of diversity in my family's gene pool.  Which is why I love telling people I'm a Black Irish German Jew.

Oh, you're black Irish, they say.

And I get to reply with a smile, "No, I'm black, and I'm Irish, and I'm German, and I'm Jewish.  Of course, I'm also English, Scottish, French, Dutch, Scandinavian, Spanish and Native American.  So basically, I'm an American."

Then I get the question, "How are you black?"  I'll admit, one look at me doesn't exactly put one in mind of the dark continent, but I promise you it's true.  5 generations my Guynes ancestors were rich, white, slave owners on a Mississippi plantation.  But 5 generations before that, they were considered free colored in Virginia, and 5 generations before that, John Gaeween was kidnapped by Portuguese slavers off the coast of Angola, rescued by English privateers, and brought to Jamestown, Virginia, where he was sold into indentured servitude to pay for his trip over.  So diluted though it may be, I'm black.

And in case you want to ask the same question about my Jewishness, my mother's mother's mother's mother's mother's mother Augusta Eschberger Draper came to Texas from Prussia with her parents and siblings in 1852.  Her last name and every one of its variants is Jewish, and our family often claimed that those ancestors were "black Dutch", which is an American code word for "Jewish, but we don't want anyone to know."

In all actuality, and I can say this definitively, 40% of my heritage is British (English, Scotch, Welsh), 10% is Irish, 25% is German, and the other 25% is everything else I named above.  But we're not singing "God Save the Queen" over here.  It's Saint Patrick's Day, and I thought I'd give a little tribute to those of my forbears who hailed from the Emerald Isle.

Henry Ferrell,
born 1797 in Londonderry County Ireland,
to Patrick Ferrell and Margaret Donahoe,
who came to America in 1798.


John Boies,
born 1778 in Ireland,
to David Boies & Nancy Forsyth.


James Harris,
born 1740 in Ulster County, Ireland,
to Samuel Harris.

Jane Johnston,

born 1717 in Ireland,

to Michael Johnston & Mary Hancock,

who came to America in 1728.

Samuel & Mary Bigham,

born about 1715 in Antrim, Ireland,

who came with his brothers to America in the 1730s.

Robert Gregg,
born 1732 in Antrim, Ireland,
to John Gregg and Nancy Ann Woods,
who came to America about 1735.

William Irvine,

born about 1725 in Ireland (though descended from noble Scotsmen)

to Christopher & Mary Irvine 

who came to America in the 1720s.

George Reid,

born 1746 in Antrim, Ireland,

to Alexander Reid & Margaret McCay,

who came to America with the parents and other relatives in the 1750s.

George Finley Sr.,

born 1735 in Dublin, Ireland,

to James Finley Sr. & Elizabeth Patterson,

who came to America in the 1750s.

Joshua Mullins,

born 1720 in Ireland,

who came to America as a child.

John & Catherine Clark Atchison,

born about 1710 in Ireland,

who brought their family to America in the 1730s.

David and Jenny Culbertson Reed,

born about 1710 in Fermanagh County, Ireland,

who came to America about 1734.

Henry Chambers,

born 1708 in Ireland

to James Chambers,

and his wife Jennet Futhey,

born 1715 in Antrim, Ireland,

the daughter of Robert Futhey & Jean Eliot,

who married and came to America in the 1730s.

James Downey,

born about 1690 in Ireland,

who came to America in 1711.

Cornelius Keife,

born about 1680 in Ireland,

whose daughter Mary married the Melungeon John Gowen here in America.

And even though Stafford is an English name, complete with castle and county, there was a branch of them that went to Wexford County, Ireland, before the beheadings started during the Wars of the Roses.  And it was there in about the year 1755 that my patrilineal ancestor Richard Stafford was born.  He was brought to this country in a forced immigration program called the draft and spent his first few months on American soil fighting George Washington and the Continental Army...until he was captured, marched into the wilderness of Northern Virginia, and released on the condition he wouldn't fight again.

So it seems I'm on solid ground when I say, "Kiss me, I'm Irish!"