Since I am of 100% Irish descent it certainly is a day to celebrate my heritage, and that I have done throughout my pre-pandemic life. It also is a day on which I experience a sense of pride because folks of so many other cultures, ethnicities, and ancestries join in the celebration, the camaraderie, the wearing of the green, the happy imbibing, and the Irish songs. As it is often said, everyone is Irish on St. Patty’s Day.

St. Patrick’s Day has been a big deal for me since early childhood. The name of my parish and school was St. Patrick’s, and on St. Patrick’s Day the Bishop of the Scranton archdiocese would celebrate a pontifical Mass at St. Patrick’s Church. Back in the day whenever a Bishop was officiating two little page boys would be selected to accompany the Bishop in the processional and recessional walks. I was selected when I was in first grade. I don’t remember having to do anything as a page boy other than to walk in and out of the Church in my little cassock and surplice, and I don’t believe anyone ever told me why that was of any importance. Nevertheless, I‘ve felt honored and special whenever I looked at the photograph which was taken that St. Patrick’s Day of me and the other page boy (Richard Luther – was he even a Catholic with that last name?) standing next to Bishop Hafey on the steps of the rectory, with my hands folded presumably in fervent prayer.

St. Patrick’s Day was always a happy day for those of us who attended St. Patrick’s School. All Catholic schools were off on the Church’s holydays of obligation (such as Ascension of Jesus, Assumption of Mary, All Saints Day, and Feast of the Immaculate Conception), but only St. Patrick’s School would be closed on March 17 because the Bishop was going to be in the house.

My hometown, truly a city of immigrants from many European countries, also went big for St. Patrick’s Day. Green stripes were painted on the downtown streets for weeks in advance. The city held an annual parade on the Saturday before St. Patrick’s Day, which we were told was second only to the Irish celebration parade in New York. The major event in the evening was a black tie dinner at the Hotel Casey hosted by an organization called the Friendly Sons of St. Patrick. Humorists would entertain with their favorite Irish jokes and normally a celebrity of national renown, usually an Irish Democrat politician, would attend and deliver a light-hearted speech. I’ll always remember listening to the radio on the St. Patrick’s Day dinner when the honored guest was Bobby Kennedy.

You can bet that St. Patrick’s Day at my house was special each year. My grandmother, who was born in Ireland, would have us listen to Irish music on the radio virtually all day. Her favorite Irish singer was Carmel Quinn, a red-haired lassie from Dublin, who annually performed at Carnegie Hall on St. Patrick’s Day. My sister bought a couple of her record albums for Grandma to hear, especially on St. Patrick’s Day. For dinner Grandma usually prepared an Irish stew, which was good enough, although I prefer my beef and potatoes smothered in gravy rather than part of a concoction which includes vegetables. Another frequent occurrence at our house on St. Patrick’s Day was watching The Quiet Man movie on TV. This became a must-see because it was filmed in Ireland and my father loved anything John Wayne.

In later years I have enjoyed other food and drink of an Irish connection, such as corned beef and cabbage, Irish soda bread, Irish coffee, and, of course, Guinness. St Patty’s Day , of course, is often described as just an American excuse to drink heavily. I did frequent Irish bars on St. Patrick’s Day while in law school and thereafter as a single guy working in downtown D.C. I was not much into drinking green beer, though. One mug was usually enough and then I would switch to untainted brews. I only recall one St. Patrick’s Day when I went overboard with the drinking celebration and that was in 1970 when an Irish colleague and I left our office around noon and went to the most popular Irish bar in Washington, called Matt Kane’s Bit of Ireland. We drank and sang and stayed there for a very long and boisterous and crowded ten hours. But I don’t apologize for such behavior as I was young and carefree and was making $1,000 per month.

St. Patrick’s Day evokes warm and happy memories for me of my early family life, of my Irish grandma, and of good and untroubled times. Traditions, celebrations, Irish music and humor, Guinness on tap, wearing of the green, communal connection with folks of every background, smiling Irish eyes – what’s not to like!