While going through RC parish registers in search of your Catholic ancestors, you may come across the phrase “baptized conditionally” or “baptized sub conditione,” or, in French, “baptisé(e) sous condition.” What did the padre mean, you may wonder, by this seemingly cryptic communication?
What the priest meant, basically, was that he had performed the baptism with words to the effect of, “If you are not already baptized, I baptize you.”
died in hospital last weekend, after a decline in health of several months’ duration.
I took this photograph of Hannie in June 2008, in her cottage at Farramanagh, Kilcrohane, on the Sheep’s Head peninsula in southwest Cork.
Safe home, Hannie. You will be remembered by everyone who knew you.
Or “certificate of Irish heritage,” I guess it’s to be called.
This article in the Irish Times
includes some amusingly snarky comments about shamrocks and leprechauns and shillelaghs and the like:
‘If it’s not handled correctly, it could end up looking tacky,’ warns Smyrl. ‘Heritage and business aren’t incompatible, but too often we end up with leprechauns and shamrocks. This will end up as a gimmick if the only intention is to get people to visit Ireland.’
Tacky and gimmicky? Well, of course. Warning duly noted.
But faith and begorrah and etc., if it meant a 25 to 30 percent discount on transportation and lodging whilst visiting the auld sod, sure, I’d be more than willing to land at Shannon decked out in a day-glo green tracksuit with a large “Kiss Me I’m Irish” button fastened to my lapel. Oh wait. If I’m wearing a tracksuit, I guess I don’t really have a lapel. So, okay, maybe I wouldn’t go quite that far.
But I would totally fill out the necessary paperwork in order to obtain a significant travel discount. And I’m guessing that Ireland (land of the “ghost estate” following upon the burst of the real estate bubble) could use the tourism dollars these days.
I am slowly (but I hope surely) working on a family history scrapbook for my father, all computer-generated. This digital scrapbook page features my great-grandmother Bridget Loretto Killeen, who was a seamstress.
Sorting through Ryans in Renfrew County is an exercise in patience and perseverance. Ryan is, in Carol McCuaig’s words, “one of the most popular surnames” in the county.
When one Ryan marries another (let’s hope reasonably distant if not completely unrelated!) Ryan, the opportunity for confusion is multiplied to the nth degree of Ryan.
For example, on 16 June 1884, Stephen Ryan
married Hannah Ryan
at St. James the Less, Eganville. Stephen was the son of John Ryan and Sarah Gallagher, and the widower of Ellen Behan (who had died “in childbed” a year earlier, on 14 June 1883). Hannah was the daughter of Michael Ryan and Bridget Lahey. The witnesses to the marriage of Stephen Ryan and Hannah Ryan were Jeremiah Ryan and Bridget Harrington, whose mother was a Ryan (Margaret Ryan, older sister of Hannah, and wife of Cornelius Harrington).
That’s a lot of Ryans.