Lowertown.info—Irishman & photographer Mike Hazard offers images and memories of Saint Patrick’s Days past and an introduction to some of Saint Paul’s Irish alumni, with links to full-length documentaries about members of the local Irish community that Mike has produced.

Saint Paul’s Saint Patrick’s Day parade returns on Thursday, March 17th, 2022 after a two year plague-related break. This year’s route is reversed, with the parade beginning Downtown at Rice Park at noon and proceeding down East Fifth Street to finish at Mears Park in Lowertown.

GREEN JOURNEY (2013)

I don’t feel very Irish.

“Don’t you LOVE it? St. Patrick held high above the Guinness! GREAT!” enthuses Catherine Mamer on looking at this picture.

Snapped during Saint Paul’s St. Patrick’s Day parade in 2012 as it snaked through Lowertown, the photo is part of LOCAL COLOR, a collection of pictures clicked within easy walking distance of what was my loft in Downtown Saint Paul from 1999-2012.

To remember St. Patrick’s Day, Writer’s Almanac contains a short history of stereotyping the Irish, along with a few folk tunes to sing.

The post mentions IRISH LULLABY, a relic of the old country which somehow still sings in my Irish-American ear.

Over in Killarney
Many years ago,
Me Mither sang a song to me
In tones so sweet and low.
Just a simple little ditty,
In her good ould Irish way,
And I’d give the world if she could sing
That song to me this day.
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, Too-ra-loo-ra-li,
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, hush now, don’t you cry!
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, Too-ra-loo-ra-li,
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, that’s an Irish lullaby.

I woke from a dream that we visited Seamus Heaney, who lives just outside Belfast, and I recited DEATH OF A NATURALIST for him.

On this day I always think of my dear Dad, Patrick; a saint he ain’t, thank goodness and God.

The Irish in me has been learned from the Irish-Americans who have graced my journey: Thomas McGrath, Jon Hassler, the McDonald Sisters, my Gramma who was born a Fitzpatrick.

My priest of an Uncle, Father Fitzpatrick, teasingly called me Michael the Archangel.

There is Paul Leonard, who taught me the difference between shanty and lace curtain Irish. One St. Patrick’s Day, he asked with a put-on Irish brogue, “Where was St. Patrick during the famine?”

George Stoney’s film, HOW THE MYTH WAS MADE, remains my virtual trip to the homeland.

We will celebrate the day at a couple parties that promise corned beef and cabbage, and jigs.

Just now, I am feeling my Irish oatmeal.

HER IRISH EYES ARE SMILING (2010)

Author of Irish in Minnesota and editor of Kevin Kling’s Holiday Inn, Ann Regan says “Editors are behind the scenes people.”

Not this time.

Chosen by the St. Patrick’s Day Association to be Distinguished Irish Woman of 2010, Ann waved her way through the annual St. Patrick’s Day parade in Saint Paul in the back of a red convertible.

“I really believe that knowing the history of our place helps us live richer, more aware lives: when we understand the why of so much that surrounds us, we can see that people’s choices have made huge differences, and we had better choose carefully, ourselves.”

“Mr. Pat” is the title given to the king figure of Saint Paul’s St. Patrick’s Day parade.

This year it’s Bob Hughes, showing off his new book by Ann Regan.

A WEIGHT-BEARING MEMBER OF THE HUMAN COMMUNITY (2009)

“I warned you about my optimism,” James Patrick Shannon joked.

Author, bishop, philanthropist, college president, bridge builder, professor, historian, faithful husband and reluctant dissenter, it was my great good Irish luck that Shannon was assigned to be my client contact for a film portrait of David Preus, “A Towel & Basin Man“.

The documentary highlights biblical and theological themes related to leadership that is marked by service to others. Commissioned by The Preus Leadership Award Council, the video was created by Mike Hazard and The Center for International Education. Music is by Dean Magraw, narration by Sister Colman O’Connell. For more, visit www.thecie.org

Every time there was trouble, I called Jim.

“I want to be a weight bearing member of the human community,” we read on the cards handed out at his funeral.

HIS HONOR (2009)

Arms wide as wings, Mayor Chris Coleman teases City Councilmember Dave Thune about attending a prayer breakfast at 7am.

The rumor is Dave, a midnight rambler, had to stay up to attend, not get up.

Thune’s Mom Fran and legislative aide Pat Lindgren look on.

THE STATE WE’RE IN (2009)

Nick Coleman blogs?

Once upon a time, he wrote blogs “are to journalism what ticks are to elephants.”

Is Nick a Mick tick?

Now his blog, THE STATE I’M IN (archived), may be the only place to read the whole truth and nothing but the ruthless truth about the way the Vikes just hustled our sorry butts.

Bravo, Nick.

“I CAN’T LET YOU PET HIM” (2009)

Jacques is the green dog and Ian St. James his master. Richard Tsong-Taatarii was shooting video for the Star Tribune of Saint Paul’s St. Patrick’s Day Parade. Right after this click, a kid begged to pet the pet, but was warned by the owner (whose name I never learned), “I can’t let you pet him. It comes off.”

THE WILD IRISHMAN (2010)

Paddy O’Brien plays a two row button accordion. Born in Ireland, his signature tune is The Wild Irishman. He knows more than 3,000 jigs, reels, hornpipes, airs and marches by heart.

“I have been blessed with a pretty good memory. Everything we need is within the heart of the melody itself. Everything today is covered up and smothered by commercialism.

“My father loved exaggeration. The better the listeners, the better the story.”

Paddy recommends a book called The Great Shame by Thomas Keneally for deracinated Irishmen like me.

150 BOOKS (2012)

Patrick Coleman is a page turner.

He collects books for us at the Minnesota Historical Society. He’s been writing a blog to praise 150 Minnesota books in celebration of the state’s 150 years.

His choices surprise and essays sing.

Blessed by Bly and Bly begins “Minnesota was doubly blessed having two smart, simple, honest writers like Robert and Carol Bly who could poetically describe Mother Nature and prosaically (although not in the sense of ‘ordinary’) describe human nature better than all but a handful of writers.”

What I love most about the book blog is how he illumines his passion for the printed word with wise and witty personal witness. “My experience with the WPA guide was probably typical. My family drove around the state quite a bit (a Vista Cruiser full of kids strikes me now as a silly form of recreation) and kept the Guide in the glove box. When we drove into Esko, for example, my father would hand the book back to me and I would begin reading aloud:

‘The Finns are a clannish people who cling to their Old World manners and customs, and to a stranger may sometimes seem unfriendly. At one time a suspicious farmer accused them of practicing magic and of worshiping pagan deities. Entire families, he claimed, wrapped themselves in white sheets and retreated to a small square building set apart from the dwellings and worshipped their gods calling upon them to bring rain and good harvest to the Finns, and wrath upon their neighbors. On investigation, however, it was discovered that although they did wrap themselves in sheets and visit these “shrines” almost daily, it was not in the zeal of religion but for the purpose of taking baths. The Finns here are almost fanatical advocates of cleanliness, and each has his own “sauna” or steam bathhouse.’

“Because of the WPA Writers project a whole lot of writers owed their livelihoods to the Federal government. I owe them my love of Minnesota and its history!”

Recently Pat gave a talk about books at a bookstore and was hounded by authors who want theirs to be counted among the elect.

“There were more authors than readers in the audience. I was besieged.”

Once upon a time, he bought one of mine for the Minnesota Historical Society, Media Mike’s Mask Museum A to Z, so don’t believe a word I wrote.

LEPRECHAUN LAURA (2010)

Leprechaun Laura was parading amongst a mass of Colemans on parade with Mayor Coleman in Saint Paul’s St. Patrick’s Day Parade.

YOU ARE WHAT YOU’VE ALWAYS BEEN (2013)

“The old gray mare ain’t what she used to be. Dementia is setting in,” Sister Jane hooted as she tap-danced the St. Patrick’s Day parade from one end of downtown Saint Paul to the other.

The good Sister is always singing and dancing.

Oh, Sister Jane, you are what you’ve always been,
Are what you’ve always been, are what you’ve always been.
Oh, Sister Jane, you are what you’ve always been,
Many long years ago.

Watch her tap-dance and sing and speak, the way she always does, from the heart.

The St. Paddy’s Day parade will snake through the snow in downtown Saint Paul today, Monday, March 17, 2014. This year I will miss seeing Sister Jane (whom I assume will be there as always), but I won’t miss the drunken excess.

An ad in the paper for an ignorant bar featured a leprechaun puking shamrocks.

This is akin to all the drunken ethnic stereotypes. Like them, the Irish were an enslaved people who lost their language, their soul.

SNAKE CHARMER (2010)

Sister Jane McDonald’s Irish eyes were smiling at the sign carried by her brother’s daughter, Mary, in the St. Paddy’s Day parade as it snaked its way through Lowertown.

St. Patrick drove the snakes out of Ireland, some say, and believe that good. Others, like Jane, know snakes have a right to life in the garden.

DO NO HARM (2021)

The poet Carol Connolly never let on.

The poet never told me herself, but a best buddy (who filmed many of my films) told me what she told him once upon a time.

“Carol said she had Irish Alzheimer’s. That’s when you forget everything except grudges.”

She explained to him she found it hard to forgive me for leaving her on the cutting room floor of our film portrait of her hero, Eugene McCarthy.

She never told me. I never knew until after she passed away (of complications due to Alzheimer’s).

It’s like stepping on an insect by accident. I didn’t know. I did not mean to. I’m trying to live a life where I do no harm. Ahimsa.

I’m not. We can’t.

Carol wrote:

LAST RESORT


I am trapped here in a second rate body.
I. Me with a proper address
and acceptable blood lines
and the appearance of a decent bank balance.
Trapped here at the pool
during the thigh show.
Sins of the flesh
are punished here. Exposed.
Sagging tits and a stretched belly
negate a person at this spa.
Here the only interest is in bones
and sinew and teeth and tan.
No flesh need apply.


Attention. Over here. I would
like to say that I am terribly sorry
if I visually assaulted you.
I want to explain. I followed the rules.
It was seven pregnancies for me
and twins and nine-pound babies,
and do you know?


If you want to have your cake,
you must eat it.

If you want to have your cake, you must eat it. Word.

FEELING MY IRISH (2013)

George Stoney filmed how the myth was made.

Robert Flaherty filmed the myth.

The Chieftains played for my first documentary.

Sister Jane jigged, gave me my first communion.

Seamus Heaney had me learning his poetry by heart.

Louis Sullivan showed how a building sings its story.

James Tiernan O’Rourke never said no to yours truly.

William Butler Yeats was mad as the mist and the snow.

Eugene McCarthy was akin to Saint Sebastian.

Bobby Sands died for a righteous cause.

Tom McGrath woke me to poetry that wakes us.

Uncle Al Fitzpatrick dubbed me Michael the Archangel.

My mother Mary revealed the silent language of the Queen.

My father Patrick lived large, a nomad always at hazard.

Jon Hassler advised, “Why not put everything in?”

Seen here is George Stoney, watching a rough cut of Happy Collaborator, a video portrait of George which we made together. One of Stoney’s most intriguing films is How the Myth Was Made. It is a film about the making of Robert Flaherty’s film, Man of Aran.

Stoney’s grandfather was the doctor on the island in Ireland where the legendary maker of documentary film, Robert Flaherty, shot his film. So Stoney’s film, exploring the effects Flaherty’s film had on the island and its people, is digging into his own roots as an individual while simultaneously studying the work of his intellectual mentor as a producer of nonfiction films.

It’s a metamedia meditation on myth-making, and Irish on Irish on Irish.

The picture and story are part of The Emerald Herald, now showing at the Rourke Art Gallery + Museum as part of the St. Patrick’s Group Exhibition. The show runs March 4-April 3, 2022. Directions.

About Mike Hazard

Mike Hazard (www.mikehazard.org) is a filmmaker, poet, and photographer. Nine of his films have been telecast nationally on public media.

A collection of Hazard’s poems, This World Is Not Altogether Bad, is published by Red Dragonfly Press.

With a grant from the Minnesota State Arts Board, he is organizing JOURNEY, a retrospective for his wife, the fiber artist Tressa Sularz.

Feature edited by Nigel Parry.

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