Trudging along the road from Innishannon to Cork, It seemed a much longer road then what it is now, all those long years ago.  I had overheard a conversation in Innishannon that there maybe work and now that the grandparents had passed away, there was nothing keeping me in the village.  Trying to keep momentum and the horrible thoughts of dying alongside the road at bay.   My only chance at survival was to make it to Cork or maybe Cobh.  Maybe work in a workhouse and either leave…

By Margaret Laura O’Shea

Life was not easy for the Irish during the 1840’s, mine was no different.

My father was a shop keeper in a small town.  My mother kept the books for him.  We the children took pride in helping him stock the shelves, sweep the floors, and other such things.

In 1845, the first wave of the great famine hit Ireland.  My father could see that it may be a good time to move out of the area or leave the country…