Brooklyn Bridge Brothers

There’s another tale we loved to tell -

about Mary Kate’s brothers and the ocean’s swell

and how in New York they went to dwell.

Two brothers sailed to a distant shore.

John and Patrick would see Erin no more.

But many years later, a surprise lay in store.

So, my grandmother’s brothers arrived in New York,

after setting sail from Queenstown at Cork,

and went their separate ways while looking for work.

Twenty years rolled swiftly by,

and two men met – saw eye-to-eye

on Brooklyn Bridge, beneath the wide New York sky.

They stopped to talk, two strangers passing by….

“Where ye from?” enquired the one.

“A town called Macroom, of Erin a son!”

“Me too!” says the other, not to be outdone.

“Ah, it’s the town that never reared a fool all right.”

“Oh, that’s a true saying, it’s a pure delight

to meet a fellow countryman! This day is surely bright.”

“Tell me your name,” said the one to the other.

“I’m John,” said John, “and Katherine was my mother.

I came here with Patrick, and he was my brother.”

“Ah, Jaysus!” said Patrick, “me brother was John

and I thought for sure that he’d be gone.

Life’s mighty strange – that you can count on!”

“Did ye have a sister called Mary Kate?”

“Indeed I did, and I’d love to locate

her, but I don’t know where she lives, which state.”

“Mary Kate is in Liverpool!

and as for the town that never reared a fool,

I think we two have broken that rule!”

How this story reached the Liverpool shore

will be a secret for evermore.

But I’m guessing a letter came through the door.

The tale would be around 1920,

and I hope the letters they sent were plenty.

They were literate, and could write beautifully, just like the gentry.

So while her brothers, on the other side of the world,

were losing each other in a manner absurd,

Mary Kate’s letters may have been the thread that bound them together, as you’ve heard,

by the strength of a word.