West of Dungannon

In a caravan set on a hillside amidst the tumbled ruins of an ancient British cavalry barracks in the old land of Tir Eoghain, the author has lived out the dream of Irish America, to return to the land of his ancestors after generations of separation. Welcomed there as if he was a native son returning to see that his fields and animals were being well-tended in his absence, what impressed Devlin most was the seemingly endless reservoir of stories and tales of days gone by which his newly-discovered relatives and friends told to each other, over and over. As the older generations die away. the author senses that these stories may never be heard again. "The Irish today," warns the author, "Especially the young Irish, are rushing towards modern life at such a rapid pace that within another generation, memories of the old ways and those sweetest of people, the Old Irish, will disappear forever." With a keen ear and the instinct of the old Celts for oral history, Devlin has spent the last ten years writing many of these down and now passes them along to you.