All posts in Uncategorized

The Irish-American Story: From immigration to discrimination to assimilation to celebration

The first day of Irish Heritage Month seems like a good time to recognize the remarkable story of Irish-Americans – from the humblest of beginnings upon their arrival on America’s shores, to the vitriolic discrimination they faced and overcame, to their rapid assimilation in a new country, to a celebration of their lofty and innumerable contributions even as they maintain a deep pride in their heritage and ethnicity.

What an incredible story it is!

I’ve had the opportunity to research and write about the Irish experience in two of my books, A City So Grand (2010), which details their arrival in Boston in great numbers between 1847-1860; and in my most recent book, Voyage of Mercy (2020), which chronicles the brutality of the Irish famine of 1846-47 and the unprecedented and beneficent humanitarian response from American citizens to the suffering of the Irish people.

I’ve also been blessed to have married into a large Irish family, of which I’ve been a part for more than forty years. My wife, Kate, her twelve siblings, her legion of cousins, her dear late parents and their siblings, all trace their ancestry with pride back to the Old Sod. 

So I feel like I know as much about the Irish-American experience as any Italian-American guy can — their story is not so different from the saga of my own people.

To use Boston as an example, thousands of Irish, who had witnessed such devastation in their own country – who saw it transformed from a nation of bucolic splendor to a blight-infested isle of death – arrived in their adopted city to find not succor but prejudice, not welcome but suspicion and contempt. Boston’s close Yankee society, its deep anti-Catholicism, its often condescending intellectualism, its insistence that “Irish need not apply” – all of these were completely foreign to, and conspired against, the bedraggled Irish who stepped weakly off the coffin ships and sought refuge among her narrow streets. It rocked the Irish and left them disillusioned and dispirited.

But not broken – far from it.

Boston’s Irish had survived the destruction wrought by the famine, survived the deadly Atlantic passage, and they would survive – and soon thrive! – in Boston by virtue of their resilience, faith, family bonds, hard work, and perseverance that kept them going through the darkest of times. They overcame poverty and discrimination, took any work they could find – cleaning stables, unloading ships, digging trenches, laying foundations, working as domestic help – to earn money, save money, buy homes, and become citizens. They fought bravely for the Union in the Civil War, returned, built communities, voted, and ran for office.

By 1880, more than 70,000 Irish lived in the city. By 1882, Boston elected its first Irish-born representative to Congress; and the first Irish born mayor took office in 1885. By this time, Boston had undergone a stunning conversion in an amazingly short time – about 30 years; it was clearly becoming an Irish and a Catholic city. The Irish domination of the city – in politics, in public service, in the cultural influence of music, pubs, and literature – continued for well over a century. President John F. Kennedy, a descendant of post-famine immigrants, was only exaggerating a little when he made his highly celebrated 1961 visit to Ireland, the first ever by a sitting president. He said: “Nearly everyone in Boston is from Galway.”

It’s easy today to think the success of the Irish, or any group that begins its journey in abject poverty, was somehow preordained. But of course, nothing could be further from the truth. The Irish were among the first European immigrants to arrive in the United States on such a broad scale – and the odds were stacked against them in almost too many ways to count. Their rapid assimilation and their meteoric upward mobility, were far from foregone conclusions.

So this month, whether you’re Irish or not, celebrate the spirit of the Irish and the Irish-American story. Both were forged amid terrible hardship, strengthened by an irrepressible character to overcome them, and burnished by loyalty, resilience, perseverance, and love of family and friends.

Characteristics we should all tip our hat to – and all emulate.

Dad, There’s No Need to Worry

I taught my World War II class at UMass-Boston in the Fall of 2021 and emerged with a sense of optimism and hope.

First, a little background.

Many of you who have been loyal and kind enough to follow my “author life” know that I’m proud of my dad’s service as a World War II Army veteran.  Tony Puleo was a Purple Heart recipient who served in both the European and Pacific theaters.  He was also immensely (albeit quietly) proud of his service, and in the late 1990s, when I was interviewing him and preparing to write his war memoirs for the family, he said to me more than once:  “Please make sure young people remember the Second World War, the sacrifices, the heroism, and what it meant to the world.  As time goes by, people tend to forget their history.  I’m worried that young people will forget.”

Dad died in January of 2009.  I spent the next several months designing from scratch a college-level World War II course, in his honor, that I taught at Suffolk University in the fall of that year.  After teaching at Suffolk for several semesters, I moved to UMass-Boston, where I’ve been thrilled to teach the course at my alma mater.  “World War II: The Global War” is an upper-level elective, attended mostly by juniors and seniors, but I’ve had numerous freshmen and sophomores in the class and they’ve done remarkably well.

And that brings me to the hope and optimism part.  You’ve read and heard about the surveys as I have:  college students don’t know anything about history; ask them who fought in World War II and on which side, and you get blank stares; kids aren’t interested in anything that happened before they were born.

And on and on.

This past fall, my students debunked all of these canards.

I had a class full of engaged, interested students who worked hard, expressed thoughtful curiosity during discussions and demonstrated shrewd analysis in their papers and in-class exams.  These young people were truly interested in the Second World War.  It’s true that many had never studied it in high school – someday I’ll write a blog about that! – yet all of them knew the war’s scope on some level, that it was perhaps the largest and most all-consuming event in history, and each student wanted to know more.

I was also impressed all semester with their dedication and responsibility.  My class began at 8:00 a.m., a difficult time for college students to be sure.  UMass-Boston is still largely a commuter school, so for most students, arriving on time for an early-morning class is more than a matter of rolling out of bed a few minutes before class begins.  There’s perhaps an hour or more of commuting time, driving or riding the “T,” before these students arrive on campus.  And yet, their attendance was outstanding (I had several students with perfect attendance).

Great attendance.  Hard work.  A passion for learning.  I was proud of my students – they taught me something.

As a teacher, I couldn’t have asked for more.

And dad, don’t worry:  I think the future is in good hands.


America’s Remarkable First Humanitarian Mission: Widespread Aid to Ireland During the Great Famine

I describe my book, Voyage of Mercy: The USS Jamestown, the Irish Famine, and the Remarkable Story of America’s First Humanitarian Mission as a story about hope, generosity, and soaring goodwill against a backdrop of nearly unfathomable despair. And like any story with such powerful themes, its lessons run deep and its ramifications are measured in decades rather than days.
Voyage of Mercy recounts for the first time the remarkable and unprecedented relief effort by the government and citizens of the United States to assist Ireland during the terrible famine year of 1847; remarkable because the mission undertaken by Captain Robert Bennet Forbes and the crew of the USS Jamestown to deliver tons of donated food to Ireland was the first step in a monumental effort that involved contributions from citizens of virtually every community in the United States, and the official imprimatur of the U.S. government; unprecedented not only for the size and scope of American participation, but [create a callout of this phrase: because it was the first time the United States—or any nation, for that matter—extended its hand to a foreign neighbor] in such a broad and all-encompassing way for purely humanitarian reasons.
Prior to 1847, the bulk of interaction between nation-states consisted mainly of warfare and other hostilities, mixed with occasional trade; the entire concept of international charity existed neither in the moral consciousness nor as part of the political strategy of monarchs or elected leaders. If anything, such a gesture toward a foreign nation would likely have been viewed as a sign of weakness.
The Jamestown mission was, in modern parlance, the “tip of the spear,” the most visible [CONTINUE READING] create a jump to the rest of the blog entry and most celebrated component of America’s first full-blown charitable mission. The U.S. relief effort encompassed far more than Jamestown, but it was the historic voyage of a retrofitted warship embarking on a mission of peace that most visibly symbolized the widespread willingness of the American people to offer up enormous stores of food and provisions to assist victims of the Irish famine. More than 5,000 ships left Ireland during the great potato famine in the late 1840s, transporting the starving and the destitute away from their stricken homeland. The first vessel to sail in the other direction, to help the millions unable to escape, was the USS Jamestown, a converted warship, which left Boston in March 1847 loaded with precious food for Ireland.
In an unprecedented move by Congress, the warship had been placed in civilian hands, stripped of its guns, and committed to the peaceful delivery of food, clothing, and supplies in a mission that would launch America’s first full-blown humanitarian relief effort.
The voyage itself and the subsequent outpouring of charitable relief captured hearts and minds on both sides of the Atlantic. In addition, the events of 1847 have served as the blueprint and inspiration for hundreds of American charitable relief efforts since, philanthropic endeavors that have established the United States as the leader in international aid in total dollars and enabled it to assist millions of people around the world victimized by famine, war, and catastrophic natural disasters.


Two compelling individuals occupy the center of this story.
Sea captain Robert Bennet Forbes of Boston was one of the most dynamic, determined, resilient, adventurous, well-traveled, generous, and interesting men of his age—or any age, for that matter—and until now, his story has never been fully told. I am grateful that he was also an excellent, frequent, and descriptive writer, able to relate both meaningful context and colorful details, understand the nuances of human nature as well as his own virtues and shortcomings, and express himself with passion, pathos, drama, and humor. In addition, he was the consummate collector and keeper of documents—a bit of a hoarder, actually—which has provided us with a rich trove of what others thought about him, his mission, and his world.
The Reverend Theobald Mathew, known best as Ireland’s “Temperance Priest,” was the heroic and indomitable figure on the Irish side of the Atlantic, fighting—though mostly in vain—to save the lives of his starving countrymen and convince British authorities of the speed of the famine’s onslaught, the extent of its horrors, and the desperate need for additional relief. In the decade before the famine, Father Mathew had achieved fame on both sides of the Atlantic for his efforts to convince hundreds of thousands of Irish to sign his temperance pledge; in fact, history records his crusade against drinking and alcoholism as his signature achievement. But his work in the trenches during the worst of the famine—offering food, shelter, medical care, and comfort to those suffering from near-starvation and debilitating disease—would forever endear him to the Irish people, especially those from his home parish in Cork city. Still revered in his native country today, Father Mathew, like Forbes, is little known in the United States, despite a lengthy and controversial visit to America shortly after the famine.
What truly inspired me about this story were the actions of what I’ll call thousands of other real-life characters, who together make up a single collective character of sorts: the American people. I had known something about the Jamestown voyage before researching this book, but I was completely unaware of the enormous scope of U.S. relief effort to Ireland in 1847–48, the widespread generosity of Americans from all walks of life during a time when the very act of survival and supporting one’s own family presented a grueling daily challenge and was far from guaranteed.
That Americans from across the United States contributed to Irish relief was extraordinary enough, but it was the nature of most of their donations that was most impressive. This was not a matter of entering credit card information or dropping off a bag of canned goods, though these are certainly generous acts in their own right. While many people sent small amounts of money, most donated food that otherwise would have been used to sustain their loved ones. Farmers furrowed the ground, laid the seed, nurtured the plants, and harvested the crops—beans, corn, barley, wheat and much more. Then they took a portion of those goods, packaged them in burlap sacks or wooden kegs, and delivered them by horse-drawn wagon to river ports, where rafts and small boats carried them to larger ships that navigated broader rivers and the Erie Canal. From there, the food made its way to major Atlantic ports like New York, Boston, Philadelphia, and Baltimore, where dockworkers loaded it upon ocean-sailing vessels bound for England and Ireland.
Farmers and planters in Ohio, Pennsylvania, Michigan, Tennessee, Maryland, Virginia, western New York, and western Massachusetts, in the mid-Atlantic states, across the South and along the Mississippi—all of them literally took food out of the mouths of their own family members, or food they would normally sell at market to buy goods for their cabins and farms, and shipped it to strangers thousands of miles away.
It was as though Americans looked at their own children and felt the pain of Irish parents who were watching their own youngsters starve. Or perhaps Americans appreciated the poetic, if mournful, symmetry of sharing the abundant bounty produced by their fertile fields with people whose land was blackened by blight and whose major crop rotted with disease.
Whatever the exact reason, such sacrifice and generosity were breathtaking to me, and I’ve thought about this often, especially when I walk into a supermarket and, almost without giving it a second thought, reach for virtually any food item I choose to buy. How much food would we give to strangers today if our survival, our families’ survival, depended on planting, growing, cultivating, and harvesting everything we needed?
And maybe because Americans knew they were part of something much larger than themselves in 1847, the widespread desire to provide relief to Ireland also unified the United States—for a short time at least—in a way it hadn’t been since the adoption of the Constitution sixty years earlier, and probably not again until the attack on Pearl Harbor nearly a century later drew the United States into World War II.
Charitable contributions of any kind at any time are worthy and noble; the American humanitarian mission to Ireland during the 1847 potato famine was something special altogether. The Jamestown voyage not only represented a spark of color across the bleak grayness of Ireland’s landscape, but was part of a larger national charitable tapestry that would signal a seismic shift in international relations. Beyond Ireland and outside of the United States, the American “warship of peace” had delivered—along with precious food and supplies—a message of fellowship to the rest of the world. Wars and hostilities continued between countries, and will continue always, but the Jamestown and the United States’ response demonstrated that it was acceptable, appropriate, and—as unlikely as it seemed before the voyage—perhaps even obligatory for countries to assist each other for purely humanitarian reasons.
Not only did the Jamestown mission and the widespread U.S. relief effort define the country’s generosity and establish its emergence on the world stage, not only did it cement bonds between Ireland and the United States that remain strong to this day, it also signaled a sea change in the affairs of nations, advancing the notion that gestures of philanthropy and brotherhood, rather than signs of a nation’s weakness, were displays of quiet strength and moral certitude.

Steve appears on C-SPAN’s Q&A

Steve recently traveled to Washington D.C. to tape an appearance C-SPAN’s weekly interview show, “Q&A,” hosted by Brian Lamb. Steve was thrilled with the opportunity to discuss The Caning, and is indebted to Brian, as well as to C-SPAN producer Mark Farkus and the entire C-SPAN team for their hard work and hospitality. The show, which is available for replay, aired on Sunday, June 21 and Monday, June 22, 2015.

Stoughton chooses The Caning for community read

The Town of Stoughton, MA has chosen The Caning as its community-wide read book for the winter/spring. The town has a number of great Civil War-themed events planned over the next several weeks, including Steve’s  April 16 appearance for The Caning. Thanks to the Stoughton Reads Together committee for their selection.

Another town will read Dark Tide

The Town of Whitman, MA has selected Dark Tide as its community-wide read for 2015 — the 21st community to choose Steve’s book on the Great Boston Molasses Flood of 1919. Steve is expected to make an appearance in Whitman in the spring of 2015.

And Millis makes 20!

The Town of Millis MA has become the 20th community to select Dark Tide as its town-wide read. Steve will be making appearances in Millis in early 2015 — at the library for an adult evening event and at one of the schools for a student event.


Somerville chooses Dark Tide

The City of Somerville, MA has selected Dark Tide as its community-wide read for 2014. Somerville is the 19th Massachusetts community to choose the book, and Steve will be speaking at the Somerville Public Library on September 17 — which also happens to be the 227th anniversary of the ratification of the United States Constitution, a fine day to do a presentation on a historical book.

Pembroke chooses A City So Grand

The Town of Pembroke MA has selected A City So Grand as its community-wide read for 2014 — the first such honor for the book. As part of the program, Steve will appear at the Pembroke Public Library on May 21.

The Caning selected for community read

The town of Norfolk MA selected The Caning as its monthly community-wide read. As part of the “Norfolk Reads Together” celebration, Steve will speak and sign books at the Norfolk Public Library on January 27.