Greetings
Sisters and Brothers though we have sat together for 11 months now we
know little of each other perhaps a fire would be a place to share but
I'll start here.
I am ( Arrun Nah ne nay wah ) or ( Shunktochu Ska ) Buddy, Paba or Bopa
,Dad, Uncle Buddy - you know me as Paul. I have lived in the valley of
the the river that runs both ways ( Mohkinatuck ). I was born in a
place called ( Napitamack ) our peoples' fields by the once great
Wegwaseek ,the people of the yellow birch. Across the river was
Wehawken and the Palisades that stretch from Hobokan (pipe) to Tapan.
They were created by a lava flow 500 million years ago .They were on
the west side of the river so I always used them and the river as a
directional reference point.To the south was Mahataha, a stony island
that still retains a semblance of its ancient name. To the south of
that island lies the great ocean and to the east is the long water
where the Quenepeack, the long water people lived. In my youth I lived
near a place called Tuckahoe ( Indian cradle board or
jack-in-the-pulpit). My days were spent roaming the streams, swamps,
fields and creeks. I knew where the fish were, where to get worms to
catch them, where the blackberries were, and the wild apples, the
garlic, mints and clovers, where the springs were to drink from, and
all the paths that led to any place of interest. Even going to school,
I used these paths instead of using the sidewalks and streets. I knew
where the deer were, and the raccoons, muskrats, rabbits, foxes,
pheasants, ducks, where the owls slept and where to go where I couldn't
be found. We traveled on all of these waterways with makeshift boats
and rafts and we were all good swimmers and had no fear of the
adventure. My mother introduced me to those things as if they were my
relatives and I thank her for that. Years later I would travel as the
eagle flies, ninety miles up the river to Poughkeepsie (a safe harbor).
With the eyes of an eagle I would look to the west and see the
beautiful Shawangunk mountains (the hills that go south). The home of
the Wanganarangonks (the good people that live by the mountains that go
south). Flying over those mountains and looking to the northwest you
would see the place where the earth touches the sky. Nestled between
two mountains is a place called Moonhaw (woodchuck) the place where I
now make my home. The Maltby creek, which is behind our house, starts
up on Friday mountain where it bubbles up from the ground. The water is
so sweet that I sometimes lick it off my mustache. The Maltby runs into
the Bushkill creek, that runs into the Ashokan, that is fed by the
Esopus and runs back into the Esopus to the river that runs both ways
and then into the ocean, and returns in the form of rain to begin the
cycle all over again. As we hover on the wings of an eagle, looking
three hundred sixty degrees, we see the Adirondacks, the Tacconic
hills, the Berkshires, the Green mountains, the Ramapo hills, the
lakes, rivers and streams sparkling like jewels, and we are in awe of
the majestic beauty. This is my home.
Ancestral landscape -
Thomas O'Leary, born in Cork, Ireland in the late 1840's, comes on a
fishing boat with his cousins, the Adams, and with his parents and
siblings during the potato famine. They landed in Baltimore. He was a
drummer boy in the civil war, after which he moved to Brooklyn, New
York and had three children - Gertrude, John and Catherine. My
grandmother Catherine, born in the late 1800's, married Fred Webb from
Tarrytown. His ancestors had been here pre-revolutionary war. They had
three children - one died as an infant, one - my mother Inez, and one -
my uncle Fred. My mother has three children - Maryann - named after my
grandfather's mother, Paul - named after my father but called Buddy
because my sister couldn't pronounce brother and said Budda, which
turned into Buddy (I personally think it was easier to not have two
people called Paul in the same household), and lastly - my brother
Arthur Michael , named after my father's brother. My grandfather's
father married an Irish woman and his father also married an Irish
woman, and that is how the Webbs became Catholic. The Webbs owned a
stage coach inn in Tarrytown, that was the last stop on the way to New
York City. The Tobins came from Ireland to Canada to Massachusetts by
dogsled and oxen. It was rumored that one married a native woman.
Joseph Tobin, my grandfather, married Gertrude Cox (Gra). They had five
children - Arthur, Ruth, Paul, Joseph and Raymond. The Coxes were from
Roscomen, Ireland. I have four children - Tobi, Sparrow, Sage and
Avrom. I also have two step-children - Daisha and Elijah. I have two
grandchildren - Melina and Noah and I have six nieces, two nephews, ten
grand nieces and nephews. I live with my wife Jodi and our cat, and an
occasional mouse that is promptly caught by our cat. This is the
abbreviated version. If you are interested, the longer version can be
talked about around the fire.
I am ( Arrun Nah ne nay wah ) or ( Shunktochu Ska ) Buddy, Paba or Bopa ,Dad, Uncle Buddy - you know me as Paul. I have lived in the valley of the the river that runs both ways ( Mohkinatuck ). I was born in a place called ( Napitamack ) our peoples' fields by the once great Wegwaseek ,the people of the yellow birch. Across the river was Wehawken and the Palisades that stretch from Hobokan (pipe) to Tapan. They were created by a lava flow 500 million years ago .They were on the west side of the river so I always used them and the river as a directional reference point.To the south was Mahataha, a stony island that still retains a semblance of its ancient name. To the south of that island lies the great ocean and to the east is the long water where the Quenepeack, the long water people lived. In my youth I lived near a place called Tuckahoe ( Indian cradle board or jack-in-the-pulpit). My days were spent roaming the streams, swamps, fields and creeks. I knew where the fish were, where to get worms to catch them, where the blackberries were, and the wild apples, the garlic, mints and clovers, where the springs were to drink from, and all the paths that led to any place of interest. Even going to school, I used these paths instead of using the sidewalks and streets. I knew where the deer were, and the raccoons, muskrats, rabbits, foxes, pheasants, ducks, where the owls slept and where to go where I couldn't be found. We traveled on all of these waterways with makeshift boats and rafts and we were all good swimmers and had no fear of the adventure. My mother introduced me to those things as if they were my relatives and I thank her for that. Years later I would travel as the eagle flies, ninety miles up the river to Poughkeepsie (a safe harbor). With the eyes of an eagle I would look to the west and see the beautiful Shawangunk mountains (the hills that go south). The home of the Wanganarangonks (the good people that live by the mountains that go south). Flying over those mountains and looking to the northwest you would see the place where the earth touches the sky. Nestled between two mountains is a place called Moonhaw (woodchuck) the place where I now make my home. The Maltby creek, which is behind our house, starts up on Friday mountain where it bubbles up from the ground. The water is so sweet that I sometimes lick it off my mustache. The Maltby runs into the Bushkill creek, that runs into the Ashokan, that is fed by the Esopus and runs back into the Esopus to the river that runs both ways and then into the ocean, and returns in the form of rain to begin the cycle all over again. As we hover on the wings of an eagle, looking three hundred sixty degrees, we see the Adirondacks, the Tacconic hills, the Berkshires, the Green mountains, the Ramapo hills, the lakes, rivers and streams sparkling like jewels, and we are in awe of the majestic beauty. This is my home.
Ancestral landscape -
Thomas O'Leary, born in Cork, Ireland in the late 1840's, comes on a fishing boat with his cousins, the Adams, and with his parents and siblings during the potato famine. They landed in Baltimore. He was a drummer boy in the civil war, after which he moved to Brooklyn, New York and had three children - Gertrude, John and Catherine. My grandmother Catherine, born in the late 1800's, married Fred Webb from Tarrytown. His ancestors had been here pre-revolutionary war. They had three children - one died as an infant, one - my mother Inez, and one - my uncle Fred. My mother has three children - Maryann - named after my grandfather's mother, Paul - named after my father but called Buddy because my sister couldn't pronounce brother and said Budda, which turned into Buddy (I personally think it was easier to not have two people called Paul in the same household), and lastly - my brother Arthur Michael , named after my father's brother. My grandfather's father married an Irish woman and his father also married an Irish woman, and that is how the Webbs became Catholic. The Webbs owned a stage coach inn in Tarrytown, that was the last stop on the way to New York City. The Tobins came from Ireland to Canada to Massachusetts by dogsled and oxen. It was rumored that one married a native woman. Joseph Tobin, my grandfather, married Gertrude Cox (Gra). They had five children - Arthur, Ruth, Paul, Joseph and Raymond. The Coxes were from Roscomen, Ireland. I have four children - Tobi, Sparrow, Sage and Avrom. I also have two step-children - Daisha and Elijah. I have two grandchildren - Melina and Noah and I have six nieces, two nephews, ten grand nieces and nephews. I live with my wife Jodi and our cat, and an occasional mouse that is promptly caught by our cat. This is the abbreviated version. If you are interested, the longer version can be talked about around the fire.