Kate Ann

I remember my Aunt Kate as tall and thin, like my Dad and Uncle Jimmy. She, her husband, and two children lived in a cottage like Uncle Jimmy's, not on a hill, but in a valley; no beautiful green mountain with grazing sheep.  You needed wellies, galoshes, to get down to her house.   She was a teacher, and possibly the only teacher in that small village.
She was definitely a proud woman well respected.  Second, only to the Priest, I bet and the Priest was not off and about as often as Kate Ann.  She was generous and kind but she could give you a look that was more chilling than a NYC police officer's; it would shut you up and shut you down.  You knew not to cross her.
Her husband John Mullanaphy was one of the gentlest men I have ever met.  You saw it immediately in his face and demeanor.  He had a working farm, but John was very much not a gentleman farmer.  He worked hard and you could see the day's work everywhere: on his clothes, hands, and his hair.  He liked to talk to me about America and was interested in what I had to say and what I thought.  I liked him a lot but didn't get to spend much time with him as we, my Dad, Kate Ann, Jimmy and I were always traveling, searching out family, friends, and relatives.

About the Mullanaphy's: John Mullanaphy was Kate Ann's second husband.  Now, about these stories, it's important for me to say again how long ago this was; how little of the conversation I understood because of their accents; that to them I was very much a 'Lad', and they believed that there are some things not to be discussed in the presence of the 'Lad'.  That's a preface to what I have to say happened to Kate Ann's first husband, Dr. Flynn.
Aunts Mamie and Kate Ann, two sisters married two brothers both of whom were doctors.  The death of Kate Ann's first husband was not discussed much in front of me.  But once in Mamie and Dr. Flynn's house, my Dad made reference to Dr. Flynn's brother's tragic end.  Dr. Flynn only said that in those days if you so much as put a band aid on a rebel fighter you were as guilty as they and would be treated as such.  People were imprisoned; lost their license to work and many were hung as traitors.  I don't know what happened to him.

I've got myself in this mood, now.  I might as well continue.

Kate Ann had a daughter from her first marriage: Bridie.  Bridie and her family, I think they had 4 kids, lived in Northern Ireland, Londonderry.  We drove there one day for a visit.  A beautiful home with lovely people is really all I can remember.  The day was probably clouded by the many stops along the way.  Stops at taverns that Uncle Jimmy knew from driving the tourists around Ireland.  At these stops, of course, to be sociable, we'd have a taste.  Dad and Jimmy had Jamison's, Kate Ann pink champagne and Jimmy would get me, by this time, my usual, Jamison's and orange.
In hindsight now, I imagine that then in addition to strength I saw a sadness in Kate Ann.
Years after my trip with Dad, Kate Ann's daughter Bridie, a doctor like her father, was walking in Londonderry when a bomb went off in a pub.  She immediately ran to the place to see if she could be of assistance.  Another bomb went off and she was killed.  Like her father, a victim of Irish history.  In Bridie's time, it was called 'the troubles'.

Her children Maeve and Mihail Mullanaphy are still in Ireland.  Maeve married and had a bunch of children. Mihail never did.  Maeve was lovely, fun, generous, and kind, very much like her parents.  I liked her immediately.  Mihail once referred to me as a goose and it applies to him as well.  He liked to joke; took nothing seriously.  You would never think his mother was the school teacher.