Been 'below the radar' for a while -- and may be, for a bit more.
Some of you "Knew" jack from my writings over the years.  For those who did not, it was he, whom first pushed me toward Ireland ...

Some Memories, from the past:



 While many might be / are amazed by Sean's treatment of my wife and I, I am not. My wife's father Jack is our Irish link. His father was born in Millstreet, and his mother came from Drimoleague. Back in the early 70's all Jack's siblings made their way to Ireland, except for him. With nine children to raise, he could spare neither the time, nor the money. For his 40th wedding anniversary, all of us chipped in to give them the money to go, but Chernoble happened and the US bombing of Libya and they chose to travel domestically, instead.
In 1999, my wife demanded that WE go to Ireland and we bullied and cajoled Jack into coming with us. He was 81 and his eyesight was growing pretty dim, but he finally made the trip, to the great joy of the Irish cousins. The next summer, we took Jack and his wife with us, again.

Now, in 2005, Jack is 87 and nearly blind. That monumental a trip is beyond him. But Sean has great affection for us, I've no doubt -- because WE brought Jack Doody "home".



On our first trip in 1999, the Folk Park was OUR last stop. My wife and I had brought her sister, brother and father, to meet relatives and see the places where my father-in-law's father and mother were born and raised. Here's what I wrote about it:

"There is a photograph prominently displayed on the wall in my family room. In it there is an old man, walking along a high stonewall. He is seen from the back, at the far end of a long gravel path. He is wearing a gray trench coat and an old, green cap. In his right hand is a blackthorn cane. There is greenery all around and ahead, and it reaches up and disappears into a fine, gray mist. That photograph never fails to evoke a strong reaction from all those who see it. I find it interesting that most women are taken by a sense of sadness. It implies a finality, an ending, to them. Yet, most men have an entirely different impression. Like me, they see in it a journey, a continuation, but I alone, see much, much more.
I see my eighty year old Father-in-Law, on the last day of our first ever trip to Ireland. I see him walking down that path in the Bunratty Folk Park, hurrying on ahead to see what lies around the next corner. I see irrefutable proof that Dreams Do Come True and that Hope really does Spring Eternal. "


http://www.flickr.com/photos/itallian_chauffeur/5163833383/




R.I.P.
John E Doody, Sr.
13 March 1918 - 9 November 2010
Father-in-law, Mentor, Critic, Friend

So long, Jack. I'll miss you.
The world will be a dimmer, duller, drearier place.

It has been an honor and my priviledge to have stood in your shadow.

Bob