Stranger to Blue Water

by Donna Gloff

This is Oil Creek today. Some readers may have never been to Orlando, and for others the memory might be dim.
For more on Oil Creek see the July '08 entry Fish Stories

"Stranger to blue water" is a line from the John Denver song Almost Heaven, West Virginia. It comes to mind near the end of my nine hour drive fron Detroit, when my car makes that rollercoaster swing from Burnsville onto the Oil Creek Road, beginning the four miles into Orlando. That is because I am always surprised anew by the first glimpse of Oil Creek. It is ancient, persevering, calming and brown. I never expect it to be as brown as it is. As these photos show, Oil Creek has many looks along its journey to the Little Kanawha, but it is always brown.

When these photos were taken, in August,2008, there were sizeable dry spots, even in lower Oil Creek, which is carrying the water from nearly all its tributaries. There are deep spots, but it is difficult to imagine how this creek floods into a torrent when the rains come.

top and next photo: lower Oil Creek, in the McCauley Run/Posey Run area.

Third photo: Upper Oil Creek, a little before Three Lick joins it.

Bottom: Oil Creek at the brick church during the flood of November, 1995. Photo is from Sandy (Burgett) Conrad

Almost heaven, West Virginia

Blue Ridge Mountains
Shenandoah River -
Life is old there,
Older than the trees
Younger than the mountains
Growin like a breeze

Country roads, take me home

To the place I belong
West Virginia, mountain momma
Take me home, country roads

All my memories

Gathered round her
Miners lady,
Stranger to blue water
Dark and dusty,
Painted on the sky
Misty taste of moonshine
Teardrops in my eye

Country roads, take me home

To the place I belong
West Virginia, mountain momma
Take me home, country roads

I hear her voice

In the mornin hour she calls me
The radio reminds me of my home far away
And drivin down the road I get a feelin
That I should have been home yesterday, yesterday

Country roads, take me home

To the place I belong
West Virginia, mountain momma
Take me home, country roads

words and music by Bill Danoff, Taffy Nivert and John Denver

The U. B. Youth Program

I went outside and whistled up my dog,
I’m goin’ on the hill and kill an old groundhog.

Bill Barnett had cleared his throat twice before beginning his famous groundhog song which he was singing in the musical part of the United Brethren Youth Sunday School class program. Everybody, especially the members of his Youth Sunday School class, got a kick of the lyrics and Bill’s comedic delivery of the catchy song.

The church was full. Young people with bright eyes and eager faces were scattered throughout the church pews. Their proud parents beamed with pride as the youth group took their places for one of their parts in the program.



Left, above: Some of the young people at the Orlando E. U. B. Church in the 1950s.
Front Row: Betty Riffle, Jake Riffle, Louie Mae Beckner
Second Row: Eugene Parrish, Mary Ann Wiant, Doris Riffle
Third Row: Patsy Morrison, Max Hamilton, Jimmy Morrison
Back Row: Roy Stout, possibily Bill Barnett, Berton “Bud” Conrad
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Preacher Charles Parrish and Naomi Parrish

In the late 1940’s and early 1950’s, the United Brethren Church in Orlando was humming with activity. Preacher Parrish and his wife Naomi actively and creatively involved the young people of the church in church-related activities. The Parrish family had arrived in Orlando in September 1947 from Belington. Their son Eugene who was very musically inclined and talented became immediately popular with all the young people in Orlando and later at Burnsville where he served as the charismatic drum major of the excellent Burnsville High School band. Reverend Parrish was fortunate to find excellent youth leadership in the church upon his arrival in Orlando.


Left: Some of the congregation in front of the church.
Right: Preacher & Mrs. Parrish
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Bill Barnett

A church couldn’t ask for a better youth Sunday School teacher than Bill Barnett, who always had time, both in word and deed, for the activities of his Sunday School class. “Betty (Riffle) Stout said, “He was a natural teacher for teenagers.” Everybody loved Billy Barnett,” effused Millie McNemar in recalling all of the activities of her Sunday school class. “He just didn’t tell us what to do, he jumped right in and participated himself.” Perhaps from concern for Bill’s senior citizen status, Mildred noted that “He even climbed all the way up the steep hill behind Brown’s Store for the class picnic.”


Right: Bill Barnett
Left: Maggie Hamilton
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Maggie Hamilton

The youngest daughter of Bud and Georgia Hamilton, Maggie Hamilton, a 1952 graduate Burnsville High School, was also very talented and involved in youth activities at the Orlando United Brethren Church. A take-charge girl, Maggie directed many of the Christmas and Easter pageants which were presented by the youth Sunday school class of the United Brethren Church.
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Christmas Pageants

Berton “Bud” Conrad recalls the fun times of being a teenager in Orlando, especially around the Christmas holidays when the Orlando Mt. Zion Methodist Church and the Orlando United Brethren Church would join forces for the annual Christmas pageant. Bud remembers that the Christmas play always took place at the Methodist church because it was easier to get to in the winter and there was adequate parking. Bud believes that Ford and Bea (Bosely) Brown also had a hand in the direction of the Christmas play. In the portrayal of the three wise men, the program director would call upon the taller men in the community, such as Bill Barnett, Bill Beckner, and Claud Mick, to don the colorful robes and present the gold, frankincense and myrrh. Bud remembers his youth church group as “not very large, but very active.”



Right: 3 Wise Men: Bill Barnett, Bill Beckner, and Claud Mick.

Easter

“I played Barabbas,” said Bud Conrad in recalling the Easter play which the youth group produced during one Easter season. Bill Barnett’s youth Sunday school class enjoyed the Easter season also for the opportunity to portray the significant Biblical event and the array of the cast of characters involved in the crucifixion and resurrection. Doris (Riffle) Snyder recalls that frequently both the Methodist and United Brethren churches would combine for the Easter program as well and perform first in one church and then the other. There was never any “interdenominational squabbling,” Doris remarked, “we all got along well.”


Right: Orlando's young Barabbas: Bud Conrad

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Other Programs, Activities and Reminisces

“Oh, we would finish one program and start to work on another,” said Doris (Riffle) Snyder. “We had programs for father’s day, mother’s day, Thanksgiving, Easter, Christmas.” The Orlando United Brethren Church seemed to have the right formula for creating interest in the church for the young people of the community. The many programs created by the youth Sunday school class not only brought the young people to church but also adults from other denominations. Homer Wilfong also recalled the days of the United Brethren Sunday school class. “We had lots of enjoyable experiences. They were fun times.”


Right: Homer Wilfong
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Camp Evan Breth

Camp Evan Breath in Upshur County was another summer activity for the youth of Bill Barnett’s Sunday school class. Located near Buckhannon, this church camp sponsored by the United Brethren Church was looked forward to by the youth of the Orlando church. Doris Riffle recalled that the church was a great opportunity for Orlando youth to meet kids from other places and to just be away from home for a week. The camp was sold by the United Methodist Church after the merger of the Methodist and United Brethren denominations as superfluous and is now a golf course.
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Hikes and Picnics

Bill Barnett's Sunday school class enjoyed hikes and picnics every summer. Doris (Riffle) Snyder recalls the long climb up the hill behind Brown’s Store and the enjoyment of a picnic on the large rock which is located on the top of the hill. “Martha and Homer Wilfong would bring hot roasting ears in a metal bucket,” Doris said about the picnic food. “Everything was delicious.”


Right: The hill behind Brown's store is in the upper right corner. The 3 story building in the center is the (now 2 story) warehouse. This photo was taked 20 or 30 years before the youth hiked the hill for their picnic.


Bud Conrad recalls one hike the group took on the hill behind the United Brethren Church. Bud remembers a large apple orchard through which the group passed on the way. He was also impressed with the cave-like features of the rocks at the very top of the hill.
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A Scary Weiner Roast

Doris (Riffle) Snyder also recall that someone built a barbeque pit near the church and that the youth Sunday school group would have weiner roasts at night. Doris also recalls a happening one dark, moonless night, after a weiner roast when the kids were returning home and going off the hill. The way home passed by Mike Moran’s old horse drawn hearse which he kept in his yard. As the homeward-bound kids drew near the hearse, frightful moaning sounds came from out of the hearse, causing panic among the timid. “They were terrible sounds,” Doris said. “We were really frightened.” The next day, Doris felt somewhat sure that the ogres of the night were Lee Paul and Joe Eddie Moran.

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Women Don’t Know How to Sweep a Floor

Betty Riffle also recalls that the youth group decided as a project to scrub and re-oil the floor of the church. Betty recalls that Jake Riffle and Eugene Parrish were the only boys involved in the project and all the rest were girls who were well-versed in the art of housekeeping. As she was sweeping the floor, she recalls that Jake Riffle took her broom and told her that she “didn’t know how to wield a broom and that he would show her how.” Needless to say, Jake was out of his league.

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“Our House was His House”

“We were really a very close knit group,” recalled Eugene Parrish. “Roy Lee Stout was dating Betty Riffle and he would come over to the parsonage after a date with Betty or after a program and spend the night. He spent many a night in the parsonage,” said Eugene, “and the same can be said with Jake Riffle who was a frequent guest in the parsonage. Jake had lost both his parents early, and “our house was his house,” said Eugene.
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Hill Climbs, Song Services and Egg Hunts

Every Sunday, Eugene recalls, Bill Barnett would lead his Sunday school class up the hill above the church and have testimony and song service. “They could hear us all over town,” Eugene remembered. “Bill, on every Easter, would hide Easter eggs at his house and the Sunday school class would go over and search for the eggs.” “Those were very good years. Bill was really a nice person.”

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Making Music

Betty (Riffle) Stout recalls that sometimes the youth group would just meet and pop popcorn and sit on the porch of the parsonage and sing. “Eugene was so musically talented. He had a great voice and could play any instrument.” Betty recalls that Eugene would sometimes get into trouble with his mother because he would add a little boogie to a gospel tune. Betty recalls that Eugene ’s mother Naomi caught him doing his variations on a gospel tune and chastised Eugene, saying “If the music had been meant to be played that way, it would have been written that way.”
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The Bells

Betty (Riffle) Stout, Millie (Morrison) McNemar and Eugene Parrish particularly enjoyed being members of the church quartet along with Roy Stout. Louie Mae Beckner. joined the quartet when Millie left to get married. Eugene's mother Naomi Parrish organized and coached the quartet which often was called upon during the Christmas season to sing during the holiday festivities. Millie recalls that the foursome, being young, could reach the high notes that the elderly ladies and men of the choir would miscarry. Millie also recalls that the quartet sang in other churches in the area and as far away as Copen. Eugene remembers, “The Bells was our name, which was composed of the first letter of the names of the members except for Roy Lee and we used his middle name. The “B” was for Betty Riffle who sang soprano, the “e” for Eugene Parrish who sang bass, the “l” for Louie Mae Beckner who sang alto, the other “l” for Roy Lee Stout who sang tenor. The “s” was for my mother Naomi, whose nickname was “Snook.” Eugene couldn’t remember all of the churches the group sang for but “there were several.” “We also sang for funerals,” Eugene noted. Millie Morrison recalls that one sad experience of the group was singing at the funeral of Donnie Goodwin who died at the age of eight from polio. Donnie was the son of Wilbert and Lucille Goodwin and grandson of Dave and Maysell (Parmer)Bennett.
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A State-Wide Band Contest

Commenting on his participation in the Burnsville High School band, Eugene recalls that in the West Virginia High School State Contest for drum majors he placed fourth state-wide which was quite an accomplishment, given the number of high schools in the state at that time in all classes. Eugene also noted that Orlando’s other Betty Riffle who lived on the hill behind the Methodist Church also was a participant in the state contest as a twirler and did well.
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Happy Times

Nearly sixty years have passed since the group of young teenagers featured in this story was a part of the Orlando United Brethren youth Sunday school class. To a person, the memories which flowed back to them were positive and uplifting. All had fond memories of their friends, many of whom are now deceased. Perhaps the description given by Eugene Parrish of the group as being “close knit” is apropos of the opinion of them all. The Orlando United Brethren Church taught them well and they all are the better for it.

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Comment by Millie (Morrison) McNemar
Bill Barnett, our Sunday School teacher, couldn’t understand why the girls in our Sunday school class snickered and whispered during the Sunday school lesson. He probably thought that “girls will be girls,” and mild-mannered that he was, did not reprimand us for our seemingly impertinent conduct. I’m sure that he went home puzzled by our “out of ordinary” behavior.

Now it can be told. Prior to the Sunday school class beginning, Bill had bent over to pick up something and his shirt raised above his belt level, exposing the top of his red polka dot boxer shorts !!!!!

Mick’s Barn, A Terrible Blaze

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A working barn is filled with a variety of combustible materials, and a barn fire is an impressive thing.

[This is a generic photo of a barn fire]

by David Parmer

A Death Bed Confession

Confession on her death bed made,
An act of long ago.
Death looms and as her life force fades
She seeks kind Heaven’s glow.

Mick’s barn—it was a hot, hot blaze
Three horses trapped inside.
A frightful noise, the horses’ craze
The din with her abides.

An accident, and no intent
To hurt the beasts in there.
As God well knows, no malice meant
At last the truth she bares.

To feed her stock she needed corn
At home, her bins held none.
She knew by six each early morn
The barn man would be gone.

A mere handful of grain she sought
A pittance was her need.
Instead, a guilty conscience was bought
By her long hidden deed. . . .


Claud Mick, Rural Mail Carrier

As a rural mail carrier in Orlando, Claud Mick knew the value of a good horse. The mail routes out of Orlando were long and tiring on both man and beast. A mail carrier knew that at least two reliable horses were vital for the arduous mail routes and that his four-footed companions needed good care and pampering.

When he first became a rural mail carrier, Claud rented barn space for his horses. It was important to give rest to the tired horse and recuperation to the horse which might be down in his oats. Claud had rented stables from both Mike Moran and Sandy Tulley but soon decided that he needed a barn of his own.

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A New Barn

Around 1926, Claud arranged for the construction of a barn near the western foot of the Orlando hill, near the Matthews home. According to his son Chick, his dad hauled rough-cut lumber to the planing mill in Burnsville by horse and wagon to be planed and used in the barn construction. The barn, approximately twenty four feet wide and thirty feet long, with an added lean-to for a cow, was of two story construction with a haymow on the second floor. The barn had three fifteen foot stalls. There was also room in the barn for a corn crib which had been rat-proofed by tightly woven wire. The barn was well-roofed with tin sheeting. Of course, since there was not yet any electricity in Orlando, oil lanterns were used for lighting. The barn had two doors on the roadside front and two doors at the hillside rear. After the barn was finished, Claud found the barn to very commodious and satisfactory for his horses. He felt well-served with the barn while he was the rural mail carrier.

Claud Becomes Postmaster

In 1927, Claud was appointed as the new postmaster in Orlando. The days of riding the long and grueling mail route were days of the past for Claud and his horses were granted a reprieve from the monotonous mail route. There was still however plenty of work for a self-respecting horse. Although automobiles were starting to appear with more regularity, their reliability was mostly limited to dry weather months, and even then, roads were so rutted by the spring usage, the horseless carriage had its limits. Horses still were needed for plowing, mowing, hauling and other jobs requiring brute force, such as timber skidding.

The Winter of 1940-1941

The winter of 1940-1941 was once again a cold winter, as had been the winters for four decades. Dale Barnett recalls Claud Mick’s barn as a well-built barn and comfortable for the animals it housed. The corn crib was full of corn and the upstairs mow was full of a new load of hay. During this winter Claud had two horses and Cecil Skinner boarded a horse of his own in the barn. Cecil was a teamster and worked with horses each day. He also took care of feeding and tending to Claud’s horses, which, from time to time, Cecil used on jobs. During the winter of 1940-1941, Cecil was skidding logs off the hill for Lee Blake who had his saw mill set up on the farm of Duck Bee, below Orlando. It was Cecil’s routine to go to the barn early each morning prior to his own breakfast to feed and tend to Claud’s horses and cow which was housed in the lean-to of the barn. After taking care of the stock, Cecil would then go home, eat breakfast and return to the barn to get the horses ready for work. This routine was well-known to most Orlando residents. Although it was also the routine for Cecil to lock the roadside doors, it was also common knowledge that the doors to the barn at the rear were left unlocked.

A Fire

Cecil returned home for breakfast. A short time later, fourteen year old Junior Hurst, who lived on the hill above with his parents, Worthington and Jenette Hurst, glanced out of his bedroom window toward the bottom of the hill toward his uncle Claud Mick's barn. Smoke was rolling out from under the tin roof of the barn. Recognizing immediately that the barn was on fire, Junior dressed quickly and ran to

his Uncle Claud's to report the fire. Chick Mick recalls that his father hurriedly put on a pair of house slippers and ran down the hill toward the barn, losing both house slippers en route. As he ran down the hill, Claud could hear the screaming horses kicking the stalls trying to escape the flames. The cow was bellowing and the barn was fully in flame. Claud reached the front of the
barn but found the doors padlocked. Looking through the crack of the door, Claud could see the white horse which was frantically kicking the stall, its back already burned black from the fire. As
Claud ran around the barn to go in the back way to rescue the animals, the roof of the barn collapsed onto the animals, killing them, if they were not already dead. Nothing more could be done.

The fire continued to burn after the collapse of the roof. All the stock was dead. The corn in the crib was destroyed as was the newly delivered load of hay. The harness and a cowboy saddle were now ashes. The carcasses of the animals had not been consumed by the flames and lay like ashen monuments amid the rubble.

Right: Worthington "Junior "Hurst, Jr. See Junior Hurst's story in the Mar '07 entry Worthington Hurst Jr., Fallen Soldier

The Aftermath

As the insurance man wrote a check on the spot for two hundred dollars which was the full value of the policy, he gave his sympathies to Claud and Cecil for their respective losses which far exceeded the amount of the policy. The men discussed the location of the lantern in the burned debris which lay in the area of the corn crib instead of where it had been left by Cecil when he left the barn earlier. Obviously, the lantern had been moved, but for what cause the men pondered. There were no witnesses and no amount of conjecture could replace the barn or restore life to the animals.

The winter was a cold one and the ground was frozen. The carcasses of the animals were now open to the elements and had to be disposed of. No hole large enough could be dug in the frozen earth to bury them. Slabs from Lee Blake’s sawmill operation were hauled to the barn site and the unfortunate beasts were moved to a common pile and covered with slabs creating a funeral-like pyre. Slabs were burned for two days until nothing was left of the animals except skeletal remains.

It was a grisly scene. Passersby stopped and asked who could do such a thing to defenseless animals and that the perpetrator should burn in hell. No one was brought to justice for this senseless, or perhaps merely a careless act.

It would be many years before the mystery would be solved; the solution came in a deathbed confession. Time heals many things but perhaps not a guilty conscience. The few who know of her confession keep the penitent woman's secret to this day.

. . . It was a lantern that she brushed
Which fell into the hay;
Flames spread so fast and out she rushed
Home, at the break of day.

Smoke she saw and smell of death
Lay heavy on her brow
And for years purloined her breath,
With corn and memory foul.

Long years passed by and green grass grows
O’er ashes of the barn,
Seasons change but truth endures even ‘neath the snow,
And time her heart can’t darn.

Now life has run its course at last;
The sand is running low;
Grace now she seeks for a dark sin past
In search of Heaven’s glow.

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Some of Nellie Godfrey's Childhood Memories

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Ruth Virginia "Nellie" Godfrey, born in 1916, was the youngest child of Tom and Bridget (Heater) Godfrey. Late in her life she wrote down some of her memories for as a legacy to her children Patsy, Larry, Nancy and to Jimmie and Margie who are deceased.

Her document includes her history of Orlando, a list of the people who lived in Orlando in her day, and anecdotes from her early years. Here are her anecdotes.


By Ruth Virginia Godfrey
We moved to Orlando in 1918 from a log house on Grass Run, where Necie Freeman later lived. That’s the house where I was born. Mike Moran sold my parents the house behind the Catholic Church where he paid four dollars taxes and sold it for $500. It was set close to the creek and my mom’s brother-in-law moved it up further away from the creek. It was a three room house.

Left: Young Nellie Godfrey

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I don’t know where everyone slept: Gertie, Mary, Lena, Agnes, Robert, Wilda, Edward and me. Then Lena married Earl Copeland and moved out, Mary married Greer Salisbury and Gertie married Jess Stevens. Agnes went to stay with Uncle Rye and Aunt Necie, up Posey Run. My Uncle Rye [Uriah] and his wife Necie lived up Posey Run, just a little house above where Grafton Riffle lived. They never had any children and they needed help so mom sent us girls to stay. Minnie wouldn’t go because she didn’t like Aunt Necie. So Agnes went and she stayed with them all the time. Uncle Rye liked her. He called her Aggie. I don’t remember Robert staying at the house much. He run around a lot.

Left: brother Edward, Nellie, nephews Junior and Frank Copeland with brother-in-law Earl Copeland's auto.

Maybe Akron

When I was about nine or ten my sister Minnie and her husband came and got us, Mom and Dad and Edward and I, to Akron. I don’t remember where Wilda went. We stayed bout three months. I guess they decided they didn’t want us so they brought us home.

We didn’t have anything to eat. The water had been up in the house and all our mattresses were wet so we stayed with my Aunt Duck until they got the house dried out and Bill Henline took up a collection at Charlie Knight’s store for food and we finally got back on our feet. Mom took in washing to buy food for us. At that time five pounds of sugar was 25 cents, flour about 50 cents and coffee about 25 cents.

Early Memories

I had a good mother. Every morning we’d have oats, syrup and biscuits, sometimes rice. She’d keep me a biscuit on top of the wood stove. It would be raw in the middle. I still like them like that, and my son likes them too. They called me “dough belly.” [When they made biscuits there was always some dough left. Grandma had a little iron skillett and she would put grease or lard in it and fry it for mom. Mom still did that all down through the years, -Pat Reckart]

When I was young I went to see Grandma [Mary Jane (Skinner)] Godfrey with Mom. She always had a piece of peanut butter candy in her apron pocket for me.

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Right: Bridget (Heater) Godfrey, Nellie's mom.

Left: Mary Jane (Skinner) Godfrey, daughter of Alexander and Phoebe (Conrad) Skinner, and giver of peanut butter candy, with her husband David Newton Godfrey.

I had polio when I was three years old. When I was five, Mom took me to a hospital in Fairmont to have me fitted for a brace. I cried and cried. I didn’t want to stay. It was the first time I was way from her and home. Greer and Mary lived at Clarksburg and Mom stayed with them. I couldn’t wear the brace so Mom gave it to Burt Skinner’s girl who had polio too.

School Days

Then when I was seven I started school. My brother went when I did in the same room but in a different grade. I remember one book I first had was about Baby Ray. We had to go up a long pair of steps along the hill, beside Mike Moran’s house. I couldn’t get up the steps very good and Jess Riffle [who married Pres Bragg] would step on my heels. My first teacher was Mrs. Pinger. She come out from Weston on the 8 o’clock train and went back on the 5 o’clock train. Once, she had a package of spearmint gum laying on the desk and I took it. I don’t know how she knew that I took it. She made me stand up in front of the class and give it back. I was ever sorry.

Right: The Elson Reader Book One is the book with the Baby Ray story. Click on the book to seek a copy of this beautiful book.

Then Mrs. Inez Canfield was the teacher in the little room. And Mildred Heater, she boarded with the Allmans. Inez Canfield boarded with Charlie Givens and Hallie. Mike Moran liked her a lot.

Edward and I got the mumps after we come home. We took them off Rexall Salisbury. The teachers Inez Canfield and Mildred (Heater) Allman brought us bananas and other stuff, I think. Was ashamed for them to come. We didn’t have a very nice house at that time.

Then Wilda caught the mumps from Edward and I. Wilda wasn’t very well. I think she had the measles. She had a real high fever and her nose started bleeding and Mom couldn’t get it stopped. She sent Robert over to Frank Riffle’s and he read a verse in the Bible and her nose stopped bleeding. She didn’t go to school very much Mom kept her home to help her wash.

Rigth: Wilda Godfrey
Left: Eolin "Oley" Cox in his early years of teaching.
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Oley Cox was the first man teacher in the big room. Minnie went to him when she stayed with Lena while Earl worked away. Ira Heard taught the big room after that and he boarded with Alva Barnett. Then Hans Wade. He always opened school with a scripture reading and a prayer. Then Lawrence Wetzel, I went to him. His wife taught in the middle room. They had rooms at Ollie Blake’s. They lived at Walkersville.

[My brother] Edward and Short Bennett had pocket knives and they was cutting up their tables but she took the knives away from them. Edward went home and told Mom. She met Miss Hammer on the bridge and made give her the knife.
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Then Mrs. Whetzel taught the middle room and her husband taught the big room. Then I went to the big room. On Valentines Day I went home for lunch and Fred Henline and Ed Ocheltree was coming behind me. They had a rope and said they was going to lasso me. I got scared and there was a coal pile there. I picked a piece of coal and throwed it. It hit Ed across the nose. I went home and told Mom what happened and I wouldn’t go back to school so she went up to school and told Mr. Whetzel. He told her to tell me to come back and he wouldn’t whip me. I went back. He kept all three of us after school. He asked me if I wouldn’t do any more. I told him if they tried to lasso me I’d do it again. The Ocheltrees lived in the house by the church. His sister Virginia was my friend, but not after that. They left Orlando without speaking to me.

The last year I had Dudley Goodrich. He taught in the big room. Edna Marple taught in the middle room and Ernestine Hyre taught in the little room. Dudley and Edna was dating then. That was my last year in school. I’m sorry I quit. I really made a big mistake.

Left: Ernestine Hyer in her early years. Later she married Charley Tulley and taught at the Three Lick school. For more about Ernestine (Hyre) Tulley see the Oct '07 entry Mrs. Tulley and the Three Lick School

Tales Retold

Mom said when they lived on Grass Run Russ Riffle and his wife lived above them somewhere. They had trouble of some kind and she came down to have it out with my mom and dad. When she came to the door my dad had been cutting meat and he had a butcher knife in his hand. She thought he was going to use it on her and she peed herself.

I heard Mom and Dad tell about Uncle Rye. Uncle Rye was rabbit hunting and he chased one into a hole. Uncle leaned down to look and there was a skunk in the hole. The skunk peed in Uncle’s face. He had to pee in his hands and wash his eyes out.

They used to have horse trader reunions over by Charlie Knight’s store. Mom’s brother would come to our house to eat, and they brought their slave. Mom fed him same as her brother and he played the fiddle. He was Hoover’s slave from Burnsville. They freed the slaves, but he still stayed because he liked them and they was good to him.

In the 1930s when the trains were still going through Orlando people used to gather on Saturdays and Sundays to watch the people changing trains. My dad was over there one time. Maggie and Winnie Posey, who were married to brothers, from Clover Fork had been feuding. The little woman had a baby on her hip and the bigger woman told the little woman that if she didn’t have the kid on her hip she’d whip her. The little woman said, “Well, don’t let that stop you” and she set the kid down and whipped the bigger woman and broke one of her fingers. My dad came home laughing.


This is Nellie, about 22 years old, with her mom Bridget and her son James Morrison.

An Irish Wedding

Mary “Mayme” Aloysius (Moran) McDonald

by David Parmer

Spring 1912
The morning of Tuesday, May 28th 1912 promised to be a nice day. Spring breezes wafted the deep earthy smells of freshly plowed gardens across Flint Bluff in Orlando and through the open windows of St. Michael’s Catholic Church. The many orchards cultivated around Orlando added a sweet smell of apple blossoms to the air, providing a perfect aura for the important event about to happen on this perfect day.

Father Thomas Quirk

Father Quirk may have ridden his trusty saddle horse to Orlando on Monday for the nuptials. It was a pleasant ride from Loveberry to Orlando and he enjoyed the countryside and passing through the farms of the men and women who sat in the pews of St. Bridget’s and St. Michael’s. And, there was nothing like a wedding, especially of a lassie from a faithful Irish family such as the Moran family. As he rode along the peaceful hills, perhaps the priest gave thought to the marriage ceremony of another bride, Catherine Moran, sister of the current bride-to-be, who had married James Carney a dozen years before at the old St. Michael’s church on Flesher’s Run. Or perhaps he was thinking that if he met another rider he might accept a challenge to determine whose horse was faster. Whatever his thoughts, they were most likely underscored by the joy of the impending wedding.

St Michael’s

Perched on Flint Bluff overlooking Orlando on a plot of two and one-half acres, St. Michael’s stood majestic; a beautiful situation for a church. It was a handsome church, fifty-six long by thirty wide, well constructed of hardwood frame siding, similarly built like St. Bernard’s at Loveberry. The walls were an impressive fourteen feet high and the roof was constructed of slate. The inside of the church had two rows of pews, each nearly ten feet wide, facing the sanctuary, the area in front where Fr. Quirk celebrated the mass. That sanctuary area was the width of the church and ten feet deep. Father Quirk had contracted for the construction of the sanctuary a half-dozen years before, and recalled its dedication, which was so well attended that the newly-built church could not hold all of the attendees. Because of the overflow crowd, Bishop Donahue moved the dedication outside so everyone could participate in the service.

The wedding of Mayme Moran and Michael McDonald would not draw such an overflowing crowd as the dedication of the church in 1907, but the well-wishers would fill the church to capacity. As Father Quirk was aware, the outside grounds of the church could well hold a wedding party for photographs to preserve the occasion for posterity. Surely on the beautiful day of May 28, 1912, there would be a photographer present.

Guest Arrivals and Well-Wishers

The early train from Burnsville brought Morans, Feeneys, and Griffins. The train from Weston brought McDonalds, and more Morans. Buggies from Clover Fork, Fleshers Run, and Three Lick brought Feeneys, Tulleys, Carneys, Greenes, and other Catholic families and friends. The Dolans and Rushes, and bachelor Mike Moran, brother of the bride-to-be, could walk to the church on the hill.

Stylish Hats a Must

Business was good for Lizzie Tulley, Orlando’s milliner, and sales were also good in Burnsville, the neighboring town to the west, for Ella Griffin, hat maker extraordinaire. This had been the era of extraordinary, huge hats, adorned with imagination, artful creativity and skill. These two skillful fashioners of ladies hats and dress attire had been busy for several days, preparing for the wedding of an Orlando kinswoman, Mayme Moran. The circulation of women’s magazines, such as McCall’s, in rural areas provided information about hat and dress styles of the day and the ladies of Orlando and Burnsville could dress as fashionably as ladies in New York or Chicago. Ladies’ hats were more squat this year, in 1912, and the brims were not quite so wide, and the Braxton County milliners had the “look” down pat.

Flowing White Dresses

In the fashion magazines white was a predominant color at a wedding in 1912. The fashions of the day mandated floor length cotton or light-weight linen skirts, layered beneath with petticoats, and connected by fasteners to boned, long sleeved, high necked bodices. White gloves, umbrellas and high-topped button shoes completed the ensemble.

Ladies in flowing white dresses and wide brimmed, beribboned hats came into Orlando by train and carriage, escorted by fine-hatted and suited gentlemen, and as the festooned wedding party ascended Flint Bluff toward St. Michael’s, the depot hangers-on and the loafers on the Oldaker, Doc Means, and Rachel Kidd store porches were treated to quite a sight. It must have been a pagent to the mostly Protestant community whose marriage ceremonies were typically performed by the preacher in the bride's home, never in the church. And compared to the simple service of the Protestant tradition, to any little boy with enough courage to peek in the church window the Roman Catholic wedding with the celebration of mass must have seemed like an exotic, mysterious ritual being performed in a magic language.

The Wedding

The officiating priest, Father Quirk, had performed many weddings during his tenure as parish priest for St. Michael’s, St. Bridget’s and St. Bernard’s and was well acquainted with the families of the bride and groom. The wedding of twenty-seven-year-old Mary “Mayme” Moran to thirty-six-year-old Michael McDonald was blessed with a beautiful day, the most reverent of priests, and the highest prospects of married life.

The Burnsville Kanawha Banner

The bride-to-be’s family were well known, had many friends, and were successful business owners in Burnsville in 1912. On May 29, 1912, Dr. John W. Kidd, a prominent medical doctor, as well as newspaper publisher in Burnsville, reported the marriage of Mayme and Michael.

“Mr. Michael E. McDonald and Miss Mamie A. Moran, daughter of Mrs. Margaret E. Moran of Orlando, were married Tuesday morning at 10:30 at the St. Michael’s Church at Orlando, Reverend Father Quirk of Sand Fork officiating. A large crowd was present to witness the ceremony. We extend our congratulations to the happy couple and wish them a prosperous journey through life.”

The Bride

Mary Aloysius Moran, or “Mayme”, was the second and last daughter of Margaret Ellen (Griffin) Moran and the late John Moran, who had died three years earlier. She was born in Orlando in 1884, the fifth of twelve children, the first nine of who were born in the family’s original log home on Grass Run. When Mayme was eleven her father and his older sons constructed the ten-room, two-story house which was Mayme’s home until the day of her marriage to Edward McDonald.

Right: Mayme with her brothers and sister and their mom, Margaret Ellen (Griffin) Moran.
Left to right: Jim, Mike, Kate, Mayme, Tom Charley Pete, Bill, Martin and Pat.

Mayme and her older sister, Catherine, and their mother Margaret were the only females of the family. Consequently, Mayme was kept busy with domestic and outside chores when she was growing up on Grass Run. A family of fourteen requires a great deal of feeding and washing and mending, tasks generally undertaken by the females of the household. So, in an energetic family, unacquainted with slothfulness, Mayme knew the value of hard work and did her share in the Moran home. Mayme’s sister Catherine married in 1900 when she was twenty-one. Consequently, for the next twelve years Mayme and her mother were left to perform the household chores for the large Moran family.

Married Life

Before their marriage, Michael McDonald, the son of Michael and Mary (White) McDonald, had a farm on Canoe Run and the newly-weds moved to this residence. Michael and Mayme continued farming until around 1917 when Michael began oil and gas field work, an occupation in which several of Mayme’s brothers were engaged. Michael and Mayme left the farm about that time and moved to a residence in Weston at 231 Olive Street where they made their permanent home. Michael became a successful drilling contractor in the oil and gas industry. John Michael Moran believes that his father, Mike Moran of Orlando, and his uncle Mike McDonald had some joint interests in the oil and gas drilling business.

Mike Moran of Orlando was in his fifties when he married and had been widowed when his four children were in their teenage years and younger. Mike recognized that his children needed a woman’s touch that he couldn’t provide. Consequently, his sister Mayme graciously opened her home to her nephew John Michael Moran of Orlando. John Michael lived with his Aunt Mayme for three years while attending St. Patrick’s High School in Weston.

John Michael recalls his uncle Mike McDonald as a very nice man, easy going and never excited. “Uncle Mike was a very good violin player who could play anything,” John said, and remembers his dad saying that Mike McDonald had “the best bow of any musician he knew.” There was lots of entertaining Irish violin music to listen to when he lived with his aunt and uncle. John Michael recalls that often his uncle Mike would play the violin and would be accompanied by his aunt Mayme on the piano. John Michael was also amazed how much energy his aunt Mayme had, because every Sunday she always had lots of company.

Children

Michael and Mayme were the parents of six children, Michael Edward, born 1914; John Raymond, born 1915; Mary Catherine, born 1917; James Francis, born 1919; Charles Bernard, born 1921; and Robert William, born and died 1923.

The oldest child, Michael Edward, was ordained as a Catholic Priest in 1941, and was affectionately known to his parishioners as “Father Ed.” John Raymond was a long-time employee of the Citizens Bank in Weston and married Agnes Josephine Gissy. Mary Catherine married Matthew Gissy of Weston. James Francis married Wilma Chidester and was a long-time employee of Equitable Gas Company and later with the Commonwealth Gas Company of Richmond, Virginia. Charles Bernard married Alice Prichard of Weston. Charles served as postmaster of Jane Lew.

Requiescat in Pace- Rest in Peace.

Their married life began in Orlando on a lovely morning in the spring of 1912 in St. Michael’s, amidst the bustle of a railroad town and the center of development of oil and gas fields in which Michael would devote the largest part of his life. Mayme devoted her life to her family and to her church. Michael died in 1955 at St. Mary’s Hospital in Clarksburg, and his lovely bride of 1912, Mary “Mayme” Aloysius (Moran) McDonald, passed away in 1960. They were laid to rest in Machpelah Cemetery in Weston.

. . . . .

comment 1 Donna Gloff
In Orlando in the early 1900s, a Roman Catholic wedding was very different from a Methodist Protestant or United Brethren wedding. A protestant wedding would most likely be held in the bride's parents' home, a neighbor's or family member's home, or at the parsonage: the preacher's home. There are even marriage licenses on which the preacher claims he married the couple on the road, in the presence of friends. No photos have surfaced of a Protestant bride in a white gown before the 1950s. While the weddings were not in the church, they were of the church. It is extremely rare to see a wedding performed by a civil official rather than an ordained minister or deacon

A Life of Dedication

Father Thomas Quirk

by David Parmer

Loveberry to Confluence

A horseman clad in black and astride a stout white horse was in no hurry as he descended Loveberry Hill. Although unhurried, the gait of the horse was purposeful and the rider assured as the green hills, reminiscent of the hills of County Cork, his native home, passed behind his back. It was Saturday and Father Thomas Aquinas Quirk was on his way to Confluence to give Mass the following day to the parish of St. Michael’s Roman Catholic Church.

Following Loveberry Run at the bottom of the hill to its mouth, Father Quirk nudged his trusty horse up Sand Fork to Crooked Run, past the homes of many fellow sons of Erin. Sheep and stock dotted the green and lush meadows. The results of heavy toil were visible everywhere. Following Crooked Run eastward to the southern slope of Pine Knob, the padre ascended the hill opposite to the ridge overlooking Goosepen Run. It was a wonderful view. Well tended farms with placid sheep and fields of corn and wheat passed one after the other. Born in the midst of the Irish potato famine and the time of starvation, Father Quirk was relieved that this was a land of plenty and starvation was not a vexing problem to afflict his flock.

The ridge overlooking Goosepen Run was crossed by a tranquil country road which, within a few miles of his destination, began descending through the Farrell and Dolan farms on Grass Lick Run. The Farrell and Dolan families were faithful members of his St. Michael’s congregation. They looked forward to seeing the approaching Father Quirk on the familiar stocky white horse which that night would be boarded at the Dolan Hotel in Confluence. Ethel Doyle recalls that Father Quirk, even in his late age, followed this route of travel from Loveberry to Orlando, and she can see the stocky white horse in her mind’s eye to this day.

From 1884 until his death in 1937, Thomas Quirk was the pastor of St Michael’s Roman Catholic Church and two sister parishes: St Bridget’s and St Bernard’s. Until the end of his career when he grudgingly allowed himself to be chauffeured in autos, Fr. Donal O’Donovan, in his book, The Rock from Which You Were Hewn, wrote “he traveled his circuit on horseback with vestments, sacred vessels and altar stone strapped to his back.”

St. Michael’s

It was under Fr. Quirk’s leadership that both of St. Michael’s Orlando church buildings were constructed. The wooden church on the hill was erected in 1907. Built similarly to his home church of St. Bernard’s, this St. Michael’s church building celebrated but eight years of services, weddings, and funerals until it was struck by lightning and burned in 1915. The second St. Michael’s Church, built of brick, situated in Oil Creek’s bend, was dedicated in 1916. Fr. O’Donovan, quoting Fr. Quirk, on the choice of the brick church’s location on the flood plain, “The young generation has grown so infernally lazy that they hate to climb the smallest elevation.”

Left: Fr. Quirk in later years

Priestly Dedication

Fr. Quirk became a revered figure to his Orlando congregation as well as to the other churches in his charge during his long tenure as steward of the flock. In his funeral eulogy, Fr. Donal O’Donovan, who wrote the history of the Catholic Church in Lewis County, said of Father Quirk:
“This wonderful man worked unfailingly as a priest throughout his long years of priesthood-sixty-seven in all-and departed this life in a quiet and splendid death at the age of ninety-three. His life of priestly service was such that he has become part of our heritage. Indeed, one is inclined to make the observation, even long after they have placed his body in the earth, one is not quite sure that he is dead.”

In 1987, Martin Sweeney was in his ninety-third year and living in a nursing home in Morgantown when he was interviewed by Earl Heater for an oral history. Sweeney remembered Father Quirk’s dedication to his flock. “He would visit the sick and needy in all kinds of inclement weather throughout the country side.” Ethel Doyle confirms Sweeney’s remembrance. She recalls that she often saw Father Quirk on his trusty horse in the coldest of weather, gloveless, with his hands blue from the cold. His dedication was perhaps the source of the reverence in which he was held by his flock, members of whom would travel from church to church within the parish each Sunday to hear his consoling words of praise to God. Assigned to the wilds of central West Virginia, with far-flung parishes to tend and to nourish, Fr. Quirk unflinchingly served his call. Speaking of Fr. Quirk, Donal O’Donovan spoke of his dedication:
“In the winter of 1893, Father Quirk made eighty-three sick calls. On one occasion, he saddled his horse at midnight to ride thirteen miles to administer the sacraments to a dying young mother who had just given birth to her baby. He returned home on Easter Sunday morning in time to offer Mass for his congregation.”

Left: Ethyl Doyle

Martin Sweeney felt that his flock was as dedicated to Father Quirk as Father Quirk was dedicated to God. Helena McCudden was one of Father Quirk’s faithful who traveled from church to church to partake of Fr. Quirk’s sermons. A longtime teacher in southern Courthouse District, Helena lived below St. Bernard’s on Loveberry and was devoted to her pastor. She authored historical manuscripts about St. Bernard’s Church and Fr. Qurk which are archived with the National Park Service of the Department of Interior.

His Irish Background

During his lifetime, Fr. Quirk achieved a worthy reputation for his good works and dedication to the Catholic faith. There was substantial public interest in the priest who rode on horseback through the mountains, ministering to his congregation. To feed the public interest, news reporters sought out interviews of anyone who claimed to know Fr. Quirk. At various times, the “priest of the hills,” became someone even Fr. Quirk could not recognize because of the embellishments added to his resume by reporters.

Father Quirk spoke little about himself and his family. Some of the biographical information about Father Quirk given by his relatives appears incorrect and does not jibe with the well-researched biographical information given by Fr. Donal O”Donovan in his book referenced herein about the history of the Catholic Church in Lewis County.

Fr. O’Donovan gives Fr. Quirk’s place of birth as County Cork, Ireland in 1845. The family consisted of nine sons and five daughters. Beginning in local schools, Thomas was selected to attend a classical school directed by Cistercian monks at Mount Mellary in County Waterford.

This school emphasized classical studies and languages, offering Latin, Greek, French, and English. Apparently Fr. Quirk absorbed knowledge like a sponge and was a very successful student, earning a reputation as “an excellent classical scholar.”

.Left: map of southern end of Ireland, yellow dot is in County Cork where Fr. Quick was born & raised. Mt Mellary in County Waterford is just east of County Cork.

Left and Right: Photos not of the hills in central WV, but of the hills between young Thomas Quirk's home in County Cork and his school at Mt Mellarey Abby in County Waterford.

After his schooling at Mount Mellary, Thomas followed the Irish trail to America, arriving during the midst of the Civil War. It is believed that Fr. Quirk joined the Union army and was introduced to the Commonwealth of Virginia as a soldier wearing the blue uniform.

Many of the students at the Mount Mellary classical school furthered their education for the priesthood at the Seminary of St. Sulpice in Paris. With this in mind, Thomas returned to Europe and entered priesthood studies at the seminary. According to Fr. O’Donovan, in 1868, Bishop Richard Whelan of Wheeling, seeking recruits to serve the wilds of central West Virginia solicited his priesthood alma mater of St. Sulpice for volunteers to the cause. Fr. Thomas Aquinas Quirk responded to the call and spent the remainder of his life in West Virginia in service to his Lord.
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Lecturer, Lawyer, Doctor, Scholar and Horse Lover

Recalling in his oral history interview, Martin Sweeney observed that Dr. Rohrbaugh, President of Glenvillle State Teachers College, frequently asked the noted Fr. Quirk to lecture at the college. Sweeney recalls that Dr. Rohrbaugh was of the opinion that “Fr. Quirk was one of the most intelligent men in the world.” Sweeney also noted that Fr. Quirk wrote many deeds of conveyance for his parishioners and that a prominent lawyer in Weston said that Fr. Quirk wrote perfect deeds. Sweeney noted that Fr. Quirk was fluent in five or six languages, including Greek and Latin. Sweeney remembered that on one occasion Fr. Quirk was called as a witness during a trial. During the course of the trial, one of the lawyers, undoubtedly trying to impress Fr. Quirk with his own intelligence, asked him a question in Latin. Fr. Quirk promptly answered the question, but in Greek, leaving the lawyer dumbfounded.

Right: Dr. Rohrbach, President of Glenville College and admirer of Fr. Quirk

Sweeney also remembered that Fr. Quirk would frequently minister to the physical needs of ailing congregants by providing home remedies which he would prepare from native plants and that his church members relied heavily upon his medical advice.

Horses also were a great love of Fr. Quirk. Sweeney recalls how Father Quirk loved to ride and that he was quick to accept a challenge from anyone on the road to see whose horse was the fastest. Father Quirk’s four-legged traveling companions over the fifty-three years of his service to his churches were named Bob, Remy, Partnership, Trixy, and Prince. Donal O'Donovan said Father Quirk's favorite horse was Prince, his last one, and that Prince outlived his master.

Thomas Quirk's handwriting and signature, from the bottom a certificate of marriage.

The Fox Hounds Meet the Priest

Tom Pumphrey grew up on Goosepen and lived there during his early life. Tom recalls many years ago that a Mr. Brinkley who lived in the Roanoke area voiced to him a half-hearted complaint against Father Quirk. One evening, Mr. Brinkley was enjoying a lively fox hunt with his pack of fox hounds. The hounds had the wily, but exhausted fox cornered and was going in for the kill when Father Quirk, returning from a late night call, chanced upon the battleground. Deeming the odds unfair to the fox, Father Quirk got off his horse, found a club and beat off the frantic dogs, allowing the fox to escape. Tom could tell that Mr. Brinkley was not too upset with the padre who was held in the highest respect by the whole of southern Lewis County.

Visits to St. Bridget’s

Tom Pumphrey also recalls Fr. Quirk visiting his congregation at St. Bridget’s on Goosepen. Tom and his family lived in a house on property owned by Pat Fealey at the junction of the Three Lick and Goosepen Road. The Fealey family lived in the farmhouse on the same property and it was here that Fr. Quirk would stay when he was serving St. Bridget’s. Tom always looked forward to Fr. Quirk’s visits because he, along with his brother Jim, was eager to unsaddle Fr. Quirk’s large white horse, and tend to its needs in the Fealey stable.

Left: Tom Pumphrey

Right: Agnes and Tom Murphy, the parents of Ethyl Doyle, two of the many parishioners who traveled to Loveberry to say their goodbyes to their beloved pastor

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A Buggy Ride to Loveberry

As Fr. Quirk was reaching his last days on earth and unable to visit his churches, his devoted friends and parishioners made visits to the ailing prelate at Loveberry to express their fealty. As if it were yesterday, Ethel Doyle remembers her stepfather Dan Murphy readying his horse and buggy for the long trip to Loveberry. “My step-father Dan Murphy and my mother Agnes (Wanstreet) Murphy thought the world of Fr. Quirk. Father Quirk was a quiet man, but even as an old man, had a twinkle in his eyes, when visitors came,” Ethel reminisced. “He lived in a plain, simple, humble cottage, without a sign of wealth or material things,” Ethel reflected on her solemn visit to his home over seventy years ago.

Even the Good Must Die

For over fifty years, Fr. Quirk ministered to the spiritual needs of his Orlando brethren and became a part of its history for the ages. Even today, the name of Fr. Quirk is a recognized and beloved name to Lewis County Catholics born years after his death. A short time before his death, Fr. Quirk was elevated to Monsignor by Pope Pius XI, adding to his legend. True to his religious and personal modesty, Fr. Quirk referred to the high honor as “ballyhoo” and as “throwing high honors on an old bag of bones.”

Thomas Aquinas Quirk, pastor of St. Michael’s of Orlando, passed away quietly in September 15, 1937 and was laid to rest at his beloved Loveberry home in the cemetery of St. Bernard’s.

left: The burial of Thomas Quirk at St. Bridget's Cemetery

Fr. O’Donovan, concluding his praise of the earthly works of this simple, dedicated man, stated:
“We give thanks to Almighty God for the gift of Thomas Aquinas Quirk to this Wild Wonderful West Virginia. We give thanks to his wonderful parents and family for a wonderful son who gave his life for the Glory of God in a foreign land.

Well could he utter at the end of his life those beautiful thoughts expressed by a fellow countryman, Padraic Pearse, poet and patriot:
. . . . . Lord, I have staked my soul
. . . . . I have staked the lives of my kin,
. . . . . On the truth of Thy dreadful word,
. . . . . Do not remember my failures
. . . . . But remember my faith.
''Deep peace of the Son of Peace to You,' Father Thomas Aquinas Quirk.”

Please see also This Day in West Virginia History

comment 1: Donna Gloff

The monastery at Mt Melleray was built in the 1830s, not long before young Thomas attended school there. Mt. Melleray was the first monastery to be built in Ireland since the Reformation in the 1500s. It is active today and is available for individual retreats. Telephone:+353 (0)58 54 404

The seminary of St. Sulpice in Paris dates back to the 1600s. "The Sulpician seminaries, above all the one in Paris, were famed for their solid academic teaching and high moral tone." -Wikipedia (Today St. Sulpice is noted for its role in the movie The Davinci Code.)

Left: The pulpit at church of St Sulpice in Paris, attached to the seminary where Thomas Quirk prepared for the priesthood.

comment 2: Donna Gloff

This map of Ireland shows the counties Galway ("G"), Roscommon ("R"), Sligo ("S"), the home counties of most of St. Michael's parishoners, and Cork ("C"). Fr. Quirk's home county and Waterford ("W"), where his school Mt. Melleray was located.