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Forms to be Filled oUt for Each Interview
FORMA
Circumstances of Interview
STATE New York
NAME OF WORKER A. Fitzpatrick
ADDRESS 327 East 145th St. Bronx, N. Y.
DATE October 5, 1938
suBJECTMR. COOKE: REM1Ni4NCES
1. Date and time of interview 1.30 P. M.
2. Place of interview
AT HOME
FOLKLORE
NEW YORK
3. Name and address of informant T. A. Cooke, 4300 Oneida Ave., Bronx.
4. Name and address of person, if any, who put you in
touch with informant.
H. Leonard Manager A P SIore 143rd S. and Third Ave.
5. Name and address of person, if any, accompanying you
None.
6. Description of room, house, surroundings, etc.
The residence, one family type, consists of a typically modern
residence. Built of red brick, and set back about eight feet from the
sidewalk, it is surrounded by a beautifully kept garden which extends
alongside the side of the house. The entrance is to the side. The lam
is carefully groomed and there is an abundance of flowers of all
varieties, visible to the eye.
The home itself, the interior, is immaculate and most
beautiful. As one enters the hallway., he is confronted by a wide
carpeted stairway, which leads to the upper rooms. The room in which
the interview was held was a picture of neatness, cleanliness andwas
indicative of a man of ample means.
The furnishings, while not too elaborate, were undoubtedly
expensive, and -consisted of a4iano, alpeautiful three‘piece suite,
and tables rugg scatter rugs, ferns and draperies, a home beautiful to
(Use as many additional sheets as necessary, for any of the forms, each behold.
bearing the proper heading and the Aumber to which the material refers.)
The window view disclosed other beautiful one family residences of a
like type, all set in their own beautiful and well -cared -for grounds.
FORM
Personal History of Informant
suaE New York
NAME OF WORKER A. Fitzpatrick,
ADDRESS
DATE
SU8JECT
327 East 145th Sn''. Bronx.
October 5, 1938
MR. COOKE: REMINhSENCES
1. Ancestry None of importance.
2. Place and date of birth
3. Family
FOLKLORE
NE' YORK
Family. Wife deceased. Six children
living.
Tubercurry, Co Sligo, Ireland Jan; 6, 1856
4. Places lived in, with dates 35 years resident at 879 10th Ave. N. Y.C.
three years at present address. Other places not recalled.
5. Education, with dates
Ordinary grammar school
6. Occupations and accomplishments, with dates Stonecutter by trade, at
present retired.
7. Special skills and interests
Mechanics and Books
8. Community and religious activities Active in all social activities in
his immediate parish. Is a member of the Holy Name Society and The
Nocturnal Division Society. He is also President of the Eucharistic
Society at 76th St. and Lexington Avenue. (The Eucharistic Society is
9. Description of informant the only one of its kind in America and is the
highest order,ftocially in the Catholic Faith.
Mr. Cooke impresses one at first sight as a person of high breeding and
education. Soft spoken and gentle in his manner he conveys an Impression
10. Other Points gained in interview of one who demands respect and in a
position to secure it.
He stands perhaps five feet five inches high is grey and is the owner of
two bristling moustaches and a Van Dyke beard. It is quite evident from
his rosy complexion that he has always been a lover of the great outdoors
He neither drinks or smokes and has never indulged in either vices.The
visitor is mostly impressed by his neat appearance and the cordial
welcome extended. Comment may also be made by the painstaking efforts
on Mr. Cookes part to make the visitor feel at ease.
FORM C
Text of Interview (Unedited)
STATE New York
NAME OF WORKER A. Fitzpatrick
ADDRESS 327 East 147th S. Bronx
DATE October 4, 1938
SUBJECT
MR. T. A. COOKE: INFORMANT
FOLKLORE
NEW YORK
"Well, yelre askin me a lot, on account of me mind not
being what it used to be, but if I can help you any I'llb e glad to.
Anyhow, I'm 82 year ould. I was born in a small town
outside a place called Tubercurry, Co Sligo. Maybe ye've heard of o
Tubercurry, Its not much av a place but I was born there anyhow, and I
first saw the light of day on January 6th 1656.
All me folks were simple folk like meself. Me Father was
a wheelwright but I had a likin' for stonecuttinl and if I do say so
meself, I wasInt a bad hand at it. I had a sister out here in New
York and she was always askin' us to come out here and live. I also
had an uncle in Staten Island, but we niver bothered with him. Anyhow,
we made our minds up to come out, and we did -the whole sivin of us.
We sailed from Queenstown, (they call it 'Cobh' now, but it doestnt
change it a bit), and we landed in New York, -(he pronounced it 'Knew
Yarki), on a Sunday morn on June the 12th, 1881, after a tin day trip.
We stayed in a Hotel far a few days and thin we located
in a house at 879 Tinth Avenue, That was 57 years ago. It w as real
Irish section that we lived in, in thim dp.ys, and mind ye, we lived
there for thirty five years. Well, what with wan thing and another,
some of the younger wans getting married and such, we moved to other
places and now I'm livin at me present address for the past three
years.
I forgot to tell ye that I lost me Wife some years ago
and a better woman niver lived, God Rist her Soul.
"Well, to get back to the beginning. Whin I landed here I
t\
had no trouble getting a job, anyone could get a job in thim days.
The first job I got was with the New York, New Haven and Hartford
Railroad where I worked for many years at me trade. I alwo worked
for a long time with the New York Cintral. They didgnt pay ye much
wages in thim days but what ye got ye could buy a lot with, if ye
understand.
yei cevid—but7 a let witii) If yo undorstuLe14 Why,
you could go into a butcher's shop :end get a couple of pounds of
corned beef and they'd throw in the cabbage to go with it, try and
get it now, and they'd give ye all you'd want, too.
But its not the same New York today, no sir, I've seen
some great changes in me day. Ye would'nt believe, to look at it
now, that at seventy second S. and Eight Avtiate,-itgs Cintral
Park West now, -that right opposite the Majestic Hotel, where the
Dakota apartment house now stands, and bye the way, that's the
ouldest apartment house in the city today, did ye know that?, well,
as I was saying, right there, where the ould Dakota stands, it used
to be a goat farm and many's the time I saw the people buying the
goat's milk to feed to their children.
Ah Yes, times have changed. Where are your Horse cars?.
Ye may laugh bedad, but let met tell you, ye were more comfortable
in thin cars in the Winter than ye' are today in yegre subways and
elevator railroads. They were different Winters then. Plenty of
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cold and snow. You look like a man of fifty years of age or
thereabouts and maybe you rimember the ould belly stoves that they
carried in the horse cars, and the box av coal and the shovel that
the conductor used to put the coal on the fire?. Even the passengers
thimselves used to shovel the coal whin the fire wint low.
Ye know, ridin' on the horse cars on a Sunday was great
treat in thin days. The young fellas and the girls would have lots
av fun. Why there used to be dancin' in the cars on Sunday evenints.
And I mind the time whin girls that hadint any escort would stand on
a corner by the tracks playin' the accordeon and the mouth organ in
the hopes that the car would stop and someone pay their fare so that
they would get on and join in the fun. There would be dancin, and
singint and a wild time all round. Ah, they certainly had good times.
They had gas lamps thin days and I can see him now, the
lamplighter, comint along the street with the long pole in his hand
and the flame on the top, inside a brass contraption to prevent it
from blowint out, and how he used to stick it up inside the lamp to
light the light. Yeld think it was only yesterday.
There are lots av things I can tell ye but ye'll have to
give me time to think thin up. Could ye give me a couple av days and
I'll see what I can do?. I also have some ould' Commalyes; (Irish
songs), that I'll let ye have, if I can find thim, and also some
poetry.
Here's a couple of verses that I can recall;
Ireland's
Not to be
And there
They love
Son so good and bold
tempted by women or gold.
are women and gold galore.
Virtue and Honor more.
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Here's another wan;
And she went on with her maiden smile.
Safety lighted her 'round the Green Isle.
For blessed forever are they who will ride
On Erin's Virtue and Erin's Pride.
Wait 'til I tell this wan;
When I first came over to America, as I told ye, I
stayed in a Hotel. It was on a Sunday morn and after Mass I was
standint in the doorway by meself, when another fellow come over to
me, he was Irish too, and axed me for a match.
Well, I had a couple of matches in me pocket and I gave
him wan. When he lit his pipe he asked me if I'd have a cigar. I
told him I didint smoke.
Afetr a while he asked me if I'd have a drink. and I told
him that I didInt drink. He seemed to get mad for he suddenly turned
to me and said 'Do ye eat grass? because ye're neither fit company for
man or beast, and thin he walked away.
That wan reminds me of a story that I heard in the ould
country. You, as an Irishman, as ye say ye are, surely must have
heard of Lord Leitrim after which the County is named?.
Well, he was a regular tyrant of a landlord as we all
know. There was no standin, him. He made the lives of the people
so miserable. Wan day a couple of Irishmen vowed to kill him and
so wan night they hid in the bushes alonside the road, there he
always used to pass in his carriage at nine o'clock at night.
They waited until nine fifteen and until nine thirty and
they started to get uneasy because he hadtnt come along and he was
never known to be late. Nine forty-five passed by and tin o'clock
wan of thim turned to the other and said 'Something must have gone
-5
wrong, Cassidy, he was niver as late as this before'., 'I dont know
phat can be keepin him', said Cassidy, BUT I HOPE NOTHIN' HAPPENED
TO THE POOR FELLAH',"
"And another wan that I can recall, is the wan about
Cromwell, the Tyrant. Father Tom Burke could vouch for this:"
There was a statue of Cromwell in Dublin. I dont know
if it's there now or not, but anyhow, so the story goes, two Irishmen
were standing under it, tearing Cromwell apart.
'He's in Hell, where he ought to bet said one.
Just then Father Burke passed by and hearing the remark
said, 'Ye ought to ashamed of yerself for sayinl that'.
'Well, ye're Riverince, Phat's the use of havint Hell,
if he's not in it,'.
"And before I finish, I have to go now, but I'll see ye
to -morrow, As I say, before I finish, I'll tell ye the wan about
the Irishman that came into a saloon and asked for a bottle of
whiskey in a hurry. The bartender said 'Sure, but why the hurry?'
said the Irishman, 'Me friend is sick in bed and the doctor is
with him, He's just asked him has he seen any pink elephants floatint
around the room, and mind ye, he said that he didtnt; and bedad, THE
ROOM IS FULL OF THIM"
-6
Three old poems from Mr. T. A. Cooke's collection:
(1) "Cod Save All Here" --This littlt poem was published in a
"Knights of Columbus" dance program 50 years ago. Where it came from,
Mr. Cooke could not explain.
GOD SAVE ALL HERE
There's a prayer that's breathed alone
In dear old Ireland's land.
'Tis uttered on the threshold's stone
With mile and clasping hand.
And oft, perchance, 'tis muttered low
With sigh and falling teat.
The grandest greeting man may know
The prayer, "God save all here".
In other lands they know not well
How priceless is the lore
That hedges with a sacred spell
Old Ireland's cabin door.
To those it is no empty sound
Who think with many a tear
Of long -loved memories wreathing 'round
The prayer, "God save all here".
Live on, 0:..prayet,24n Ireland still
To bless each threshold free
The echoes of her homes to fill
With sacred fervency.
And guarding with its holy spell
The soul and conscience clear,
Be graven on each heart as well
The prayer, "God save all here".
(2) "'Tis Always So" --From the same souree.
'TIS ALWAYS SO
Across the meadows with clover sweet,
I wandered one evening with weary feet,
For my heart was heavy with untold woe,
For everything seemed to go wrong, you know.
'Twas one of those days whose cares and strife
Quite overshadow the good in life.
So, lone and sad, 'neath the twilight stars
I wandered downkto the pasture bars,
To the pasture bars, Ineath the hillside steep
Where patiently waited a flock of sheep
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For the happy boy, with whistle and shout,
Who was even now coming to turn them out.
"Good morning", said he, with boyish grace,
And a smile lit up his handsome face.
He let down the bars, and we both stepped back,
And I said, "You have more white sheep than black".
"Why yes", he replied, "and didn't you know?
More white than black, why, 'tis always so".
He soon passed on with his flock round the hill,
But down by the pasture I lingered still,
Pondering well on the words of the lad
"More white than black", more good than bad.
More joy than sorrow, more bliss than woe.
"Yore white than black --and 'tis always so".
And since that hour,when troubles rife
Gather and threaten to shroud my life,
Or I see some soul on the downward track,
I cry, "There are more white sheep than black".
And I thank my God that I learned to know
The blessed fact, "'Tis always so".
(3) "Will My Soul Pass Through Ireland?" --Composed by Dennis
O'Sullivan, of hew lork City, over 50 years ago. Mr. Cooke says
the poem was published only in a dance program, also that there
were two composers --the second name he does not remember;
WILL MY SOUL PASS THROUGH IEELABIre
0, Soggarth Aroon, sure I know life is fleeting;
Soon, soon, in the strange earth, my poor bones will lie.
I have said my last prayer and received my last blessing,
And if the Lord's willing, I'm ready to die.
But, Soggarth Aroon, can I never again see
The valleys and hills of my dear native land,
When my soul takes its flight from this dark world of sorrow
Will it pass through old Ireland to join the blest band?
0, Soggarth Aroon, I know that in Heaven
The loved ones are waiting and watching for me,
And the Lord knows how anxious I am to be with them
In those realms of joy, 'mid souls pure and free.
Yes, Soggarth, I pray ere you leave me forever,
Relieve the last doubt of a poor dying soul
Whose hope, next to God, is to know that when leaving
'Twill pass through old Ireland on the way to its goal.
0, Soggarth Aroon, I have kept through
The thrice blessed shamrock to lay oli
And, oh, it has mibndea me often anti. ort
Of that bright smiling valley, so far,
all changes
er my clay,
en
far away.
-8
Then tell me, I pray you, will I never again see
The place where it grew on my own native sod?
When my body lies cold in the land of tIle stranger,
Will my soul pass through Erin on its way to our God?
Arrah, bless you my child, sure I thought it was Heaven
You wanted to go to, the moment you died;
And such is the place on the ticket I'm giving,
But a coupon for Ireland I'll stick on its side.
Your soul shall be free as the wind on the prairies,
And I'll land you in Cork, on the banks of the Lee,
And two little angels I'll give you, like fairies,
To guide you alright, over mountains and sea.
Arrah, Soggarth Aroon, can't you do any better?
I know that my feelings may peril your grace,
But if you allowed me a voice in the matter
I won't make a landing in any such place.
The spot that I longed for was sweet County Derry,
Among its fair people I was born and was bred;
The Corkies I never much fancied when living,
And I don't want to visit them after I'm dead.
Let me fly to the hills where my soul can be merry,
In the North, where the shamrock more plentiful grows;
In Counties of Caven, Fermanagh and Derry,
I'll linger till called to a better repose.
And the angels you give me will find it inviting
To visit the shrines in the Island of Saints,
If they bring from Saint Patrick a small bit of writing
They'll never have reason for any complaints.
A soul, my dear child, that has pinions upon it,
Need not be confined to a Prdivince so &mall;
Through Ulster, and Munster, and Leinster, and Connaught,
In less than a jiffy you're over it all.
Then visit sweet Cork, where your Soggarth was born,
No doubt many new things have come into vogue,
But one thing you'll find--thatboth night, noon and morn,
As for centuries back, there's no change in the brogue.
Good Mother, assist me in this, my last hour,
And, Soggarth Aroon, lay your hand on my head;
Sure you're Soggarth for all, and for all you have power,
And I take it for penance for what I have said.
And now, since you tell me through Ireland I'm passing,
And finding the place so remarkably small,
I'll never let on to the angels, while crossing,
That we know a distinction in Counties at all.