DeSantis: Louisiana influence is real

For two weeks now, I have tooled around the Irish countryside, in an area called the Midlands, searching for traces of the great-great-great-grandfather I only recently learned about.

One might not think this has much to do with the Bayou Region, which is more than 3,000 miles away from the Emerald Isle and shares few if any cultural touchstones, other than the existence of several Irish-American families, as there are throughout the U.S. But a surprise was to befall me during the trip that I thought was worth sharing with all of you.

The ancestor in question, Michael Kelly, departed Ireland in 1829 for Canada, with three small children and a wife named Mary, whose maiden name was Connell, so far as the family records show. We know what Michael did in Canada, which was establish a farm and grow his family along with the crops, guaranteeing that there would be many more Kelly people in that nation. Nothing much is known about his time in Ireland, from a birth that is believed to have occurred between 1786 and 1789. My task has been to find what traces of his existence or the existence of the wife or children born in Ireland, which many have said is a fool’s errand. Looking for an ancestor named Kelly within a county in this nation is like looking for one named Boudreaux or Robichaux in either Terrebonne or Lafourche, without information such as the town they might have lived in. The commonality of both tasks, then being their near-impossibility. As of this writing I have not yet found what I seek, although I have learned much about this part of Ireland as it was during the time of my ancestor’s departure. It was not a merry place. Nova Scotia, where the ancestors of my Cajun friends hailed from, was not a merry place in 1750 for them.

My travels in Ireland took me to a place called Bailieborough, in County Cavan. It was said by a number of people I spoke with, that there are many people by the name of Kelly to found in this place, so it seemed like a good idea to look there. I understand that my mission is akin to looking for a hay blade in a hay stack. But I continue to do so.

Bailieborough began around 1610 when William Bailie, Scotsman, was given 1000 acres of land within a place then called the Barony of Clankee. He went about building some houses, seeking tenants and collecting rents. So still you might ask, what does this have to do with the Bayou Region, or Louisiana for that matter.

It has to do with last week while driving around the town. Although the GPS told me to go a certain way I mistakenly went another and ended up down a narrow street with a turnaround. Upon turning around I then saw what appeared to be a bus of some sort, idle in a lot. And there, incomprehensibly, was the name of the bus which was Mardi Gras. The Mardi Gras Party Bus. It is operated by a fellow named Johnson who also has a taxi company, and, unsurprisingly, it is used for parties. Kind of like how we use party busses, except that it is not open and it is not likely a bead has ever been thrown from it.

A woman named Claire Mulvaney, who actually named the bus, explained to me how this occurred.

“Mardi Gras is just a party, isn’t it?” she said. “So I picked the name Mardi Gras because it is just a party, one big party.”

I couldn’t disagree on that point, of course, and told he it was a good choice of name. But I knew — as do you — that the words run deeper and mean so much more. Claire Mulvaney was a bit busy, so I couldn’t explain it to her just then. It is all proof, however, that our culture extends quite far, even if the folks who appropriate it don’t always get it particularly right. •