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The number of Irish natives in the Twin Cities was comparable to the number of days of incessant showers – not many
The number of Irish natives in the Twin Cities was comparable to the number of days of incessant showers – not many“John, if you had the moon you would want the stars.
” My mother had a succinct way of describing my curious and restless spirit, even when I was very young. She probably said it to instil a modicum of gratitude and curb my incessant questions. The next 45 years or so would prove her right, until such time as I got the moon.
And when the sun did come out, as it did for long stretches in 1995, we were too busy bagging two winters’ worth of turf and tedding hay to notice. Irish people who live where we holiday abroad: ‘My only regret, I didn’t move sooner’I first moved to London for my year out from Jordanstown. Arsenal at Highbury every other week, the craic of being away from home for Italia 90, the sunniest summer London had seen in years.
I was no sun worshipper – my pasty, ghostly skin would only need to blink at the sun to get fried – but I loved the freedom of a decent dry day. My memory of returning home in the “summer” of 1991 is sitting in the car park outside the Ulster Bank in Lisnaskea, waiting for the rain to ease up long enough to make a run for the ATM.
The misery had returned in a dank, grey manner that was impossible to ignore. It reflected my mood. I struggled to secure employment that would interest me longer than 10 minutes.
Then I was invited to Cape Town to visit a cute “cuttie” who had caught my eye while working at the Hillgrove Hotel in Monaghan. I travelled in November as the first rainy frost descended and was greeted with warm sunshine and the vivid colours of early summer. I stayed for over a year. I went home once, to be best man at a college friend’s wedding.
I later learned I was the sixth choice. I found no solace from a visit to my grandfather, who never left the island, drove a car or flew in a plane.
“You’re like cow dung,” he said. “Never off the road. ” Within weeks I was restless again.
“Minneapolis. It’s a quare town I tell ye. ” That was my brother Seamus, back from a summer American jaunt. He had spent most of his time in Philly but took a cheap flight to MSP because he was fond of taking notions.
His “regurge” of the place was enough to spark a curiosity and park it for a while. The economy in Ireland was humming. I had a half-decent job as a sales rep for a hotel and restaurant supplier, which took me around the highways and byways of central and western counties. I had the windscreen wipers replaced as soon as there was a hint of a squeak.
If it was going to rain, I needed solace inside my waterproof Corolla. After 17 days of non-stop rain and mullarkey from my employer, I booked a flight to Minneapolis. I was greeted once again with a brightness and illumination that was intoxicating. I grew into the city and the beauty of Minnesota.
When it rained, it did so quickly and without the energy of a neighbour who couldn’t take a hint when it was time to end the céilí. The cold was real, very cold, I had been warned, but a guaranteed white Christmas every year, with a sunny spring and summer in the bargain, felt like a fair deal. I got a job in an Irish pub, thanks to a Mayo man who remains a great friend to this day.
From the pub and the ear of a seasoned entrepreneur from Mayo, I started hosting pub quizzes. The thrill was immediate and “epiphanous”. Bookings followed. I used my Irish accent to nudge doors open.
The number of Irish natives in the Twin Cities was comparable to the number of days of incessant showers – not many. I stood out and I liked it. The quiz nights eventually needed an app, and the app eventually became a software company, and the company eventually meant I could take my three kids home every summer for 99s and a little Irish sunshine. The brothers travelled too, but ended up staying on the island.
They complain about the weather. I tell them the grass is not any greener far away. It is always greener where you water it. As long as you are controlling the flow of water.
John Cosgrove is from Co Fermanagh. He lives in Minneapolis – with his wife Jen and has three kids, Ronan, Clodagh and Mairead – where he runs his event management platform Are you Irish and living in another country? Would you like to share your experience in writing or by interview? You can use the form below, or email Australia isn’t a magic golden ticket.
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