Book Review: Say Nothing by Patrick Radden Keefe

Say Nothing by Patrick Radden Keefe is subtitled ATrue Story of Murder and Memory in Northern Ireland. It is very rare for me to ignore everything around me and become completely immersed in a book, no matter how great or suspenseful it is, but that is exactly what happened with this one. Watch the video below or skip down to read the full review.

Being across the ocean, I really didn’t know that much about life in Northern Ireland during The Troubles, which stretched from 1968 to 1998, at the time events were happening. I first became aware of the deep divisions only after I began researching my ancestry, which led to Ballygawley, County Tyrone, Northern Ireland. During trips there, I visited Belfast and took the bus tours which included much about The Troubles and brought me past the Peace Walls and art commemorating both sides. In fact, one of the last British soldiers to be killed had the same last name as my ancestors (Neely), who was killed in an IRA bomb attack outside Ballygawley.

So when I came across the story of Jean McConville, a 38-year-old mother of 10 children who was abducted and murdered by the IRA, I was intrigued. Who would burst into someone’s home, knowing the father had died of cancer, and remove the mother of children as young as six years of age right in front of them, take her to a remote location and murder her? They had to have known the children would be left on their own, perhaps even to die without adult care. And why would anyone be that inhumane?

Patrick Radden Keefe’s book, Say Nothing, answers those questions in a very balanced way. Being a journalist by trade—a New Yorker Magazine award-winning journalist—I immediately knew from the level of detail that he had painstakingly researched not only Jean McConville and her family but also each of the individuals that had some level of participation in her abduction and murder. The result is an absolutely riveting story that delves deep into what causes people to become terrorists, the changes that occur in a person’s mind when they are raised among extreme levels of hatred and the extent to which they will go because they believe in a cause larger than themselves.

What was particularly striking was the revelation that many of the people involved in acts of terror—the bombing of London and Northern Ireland and the killing of innocent civilians—suffered abnormally high rates of drug dependency, alcoholism and PTSD after The Troubles had officially ended with the Good Friday Peace Agreement of 1998. The agreement caused the IRA to stand down, the British to release political prisoners held without trial or conviction, but it fell short of turning Northern Ireland over to the Irish Republicans. Because that was the goal of the IRA, members were left wondering what the killing and maiming was all about if their leaders were willing to simply give up the goal and work with the British politically through Sinn Fein.

In Jean McConville’s case—the central subject of this book—she was a Protestant that had taken work as a domestic in a Catholic household, subsequently falling in love with her boss’ Catholic son. In America, this would not have been perceived as a problem at all. In Northern Ireland, it led to the kiss of death and a generation of children traumatized by their father’s death, their mother’s murder and their subsequent separation and hellish time in abusive, Catholic-run children’s homes that seem right out of a Charles Dickens novel.

Jean McConville, three of her ten children and her husband, 

who died from cancer the year before she disappeared.

The investigations into Jean McConville’s disappearance would lead to Dolours and Marian Price—it is Dolours’ picture that appears on the front cover, her face partially hidden consistent with IRA terrorists of the time. The damning evidence was in the form of Dolours’ own voice as she participated in a Boston College project in which she admitted on audiotape that she drove McConville across the border to Dundalk in the Republic of Ireland. Later, when the men instructed to kill her did not want to do that because McConville was a widowed mother of ten, Dolours drove back to Dundalk with two others, assumed to be her sister Marian and Ivor Bell, and murdered McConville, burying her in an unmarked grave. It would take decades and particularly strong storms to erode the ground in which she’d been hastily buried, for her body to be found. By that time, her children were grown and had families of their own.

We do find out who fired the fatal shot that killed Jean McConville. But the story is far larger than that. It is the story of a country that had been invaded by foreign forces more than 700 years ago and divided in the early 20^th century so that one part of the country became the free and independent Republic of Ireland while the other part remained a colony controlled by Great Britain. It is the story of those loyal to the United Kingdom as well as those carrying on a tradition of a free Ireland for which their ancestors fought for hundreds of years. It is also the story of supposed men of God—priests and ministers—who fueled the hatred within their communities, leading to spiraling violence and extremism on both sides. With Brexit, tensions have once again increased between the two factions and ultimately, it will be London who will decide its fate.

I highly recommend this book. Be prepared for a riveting tale and a book you can’t put down.

Judging a Book by its Cover

There have been a lot of comments about the cover of Checkmate: Clans and Castles. Eye-catching and unusual, reviewers and contest judges have been keen to connect the dots between all the different elements, leading to this post on the thought that goes into a cover.

The background is a photograph of fire, inspired by the fact that “all of Ulster was burning.” The fires began in Derry, bordered by the River Foyle to the east and County Donegal to the west, set by the last Gaelic Irish King of Ireland, Cahir O’Doherty, and his men at the same time as O’Doherty killed Derry’s Governor, Sir George Paulet.

William Neely and others that had sworn allegiance to King James were a scant group against O’Doherty’s more powerful and numerous forces and as the sun set, Wills asked, “What day is this? I am afraid I do not even know the date.”

The men thought for a moment. “April 19,” Tomas said finally. “A Tuesday, it is.”

They fell silent then, each with his own thoughts, as the last vestiges of the sun descended beyond the horizon. It was odd in a way, Wills thought; he could not recall a single day in which it had not rained. Even on the most beautiful of mornings with naught a cloud in the sky, there was always rain by afternoon. It was the hide of the beast, being on an island such as this with nothing to stop the clouds as they blew over the Atlantic. And it was the reason, he knew, for the varied shades of green; for the forests that sprang back up even after they had been trampled down or burned out; for the lush vegetation that stubbornly grew amidst the rocks and the limestone. And yet on this date—Tuesday, April 19, 1608—as Derry was torched and burned to the ground, not a single drop of rain had fallen to douse her flames.

O’Doherty would rally all of Ulster together, joining clans that had traditionally fought against one another, in a brazen attempt to regain Ireland and drive the English and Protestant Scots from their island, depicted on the cover as soldiers on horseback within the outline of chess pieces:

All of Ulster was burning.

Colonists flooded the tiny settlement of Fort Stewart in the ensuing days; each questioned regarding their village, its inhabitants and possible identification of clans involved. They came from the east and west, north and south, all with the same tale: surprise attacks, civilians ordered out of their homes before they were torched, and men killed when they fought back. They came in overwhelming forces flying flags of a dozen or more clans and in each instance they were urged to return to their native countries. It appeared as if the Irish were expelling the immigrants and there was nothing and no one to stop them.

Some simply passed through on their way to Donegal and a ship to carry them back to their native country. Others were en route to Dublin, where they believed they would be safer. Outside of Ulster, there was unrest but nothing like the uncertainty of attacks and rebellion they faced here.

From the fields, he could watch the water on Drongawn Lough and his eyes would inevitably wander to the land mass on the other side of it; O’Doherty property, it lay like a silent sentinel, waiting, waiting.

The chess outlines were inspired by this scene that included an altercation between Cahir O’Doherty and George Paulet:

Cahir made a move for the sword he carried across his back, but Phelim held him steady. “Not here,” he said, the pressure on Cahir’s shoulder visibly increasing. “Pick your place and time.”

After an awkward moment, Cahir glanced meaningfully at the chess board and said, “You have allowed yourself to become flanked.” With that, he reluctantly shifted his eyes away from Paulet and slowly continued toward the door. When Wills turned back to the bar, he found three mugs waiting and Fergus had joined his side.

“I’ll just be taking these two,” Fergus said, his large hands grasping two mugs.

As Paulet returned to his chair, he shouted, “Serving wench! Where is that disgusting bint? Bring me another ale. Someone has absconded with mine!”

Wills made a move to point out Paulet’s mug but Fergus moved into his line of vision. “Don’t,” he said. “Stay out of it.”

“I am afraid,” Paulet’s chess partner stated, moving his bishop to capture Paulet’s king, “that the ruffian was quite correct. I flanked you, dear George, and now your king is finished. Checkmate.”

Usually, only one of the elements would have been used on the cover: the fire, the men or the chess pieces. But the book is non-stop action and adventure as William Neely seeks to find his fortune and his future in Ulster, only to be caught up in O’Doherty’s Rebellion. The Neely family had originally lived in Ulster, ironically in and around the Inishowen Peninsula that the O’Doherty family ruled for over a thousand years. They left in the 13^th century for Scotland, and William returned in 1608. As O’Doherty’s Rebellion broke out, he had a choice: to remain loyal to King James I of England or switch sides and fight alongside men that might have been his distant cousins.

Watch the book trailer below or on this page: https://pmterrell.com/checkmate-clans-and-castles/

The book is available in all book stores; if you don’t see it on the shelf, ask for it. Or you can buy it today on amazon. It is also available in all ebook formats.

Irish Hurricanes

Those of us in the United States don’t often associate hurricanes with Ireland. We think of them as tropical storms, the warm waters off our southern shores fueling their intensity. Yet on October 16, 2017, Hurricane Ophelia slammed ashore in Ireland with winds exceeding 90mph and storm surges impacting the coastal regions. Trees were overturned, massive root balls uprooted. Falling trees resulted in two deaths as of this writing, and a third when an Irishman in County Tipperary attempted to remove a downed tree. 360,000 electric customers were without power, roughly 1/6 of the population in Ireland and Northern Ireland combined.

Still, hurricanes of such significant intensity are rare in Ireland. When Ophelia reached Category 3 status, it was the farthest east that any major Atlantic hurricane had reached on record. It was so far northeast that weather maps designed to predict wind speeds could not even process it—their software was not programmed for a major hurricane in that vicinity.

Ophelia had an intriguing path. It formed off the coast of Africa, its winds already so vicious that it literally kicked up the Sahara Desert and transported the Saharan dust into Ireland and the UK. Dusk is particularly affected, as the dust particles block the blue light from the sun, turning the skies red.

Ophelia reached Ireland exactly 30 years after The Great Storm struck Ireland in 1987, killing 22 people. It was that storm that inspired Dylan’s Song, the fourth book in the Black Swamp Mysteries Series. As Dylan and Vicki travel to Ireland to locate and rescue an abducted CIA operative, Dylan is forced to confront what happened during the storm that caused massive flooding, cutting him off from help as he encountered a life-or-death situation.

Another storm, The Night of the Big Wind, inspired The Tempest Murders. It occurred on January 6, 1839, at a time before hurricanes were tracked and the population of Ireland was caught by surprise. The storm literally swept the Atlantic Ocean across the island to the Irish Sea, devastating whole villages. At the height of the storm, Rian Kelly is fighting to return to his beloved from Dublin, arriving only after her home was swept away. It is the beginning of a love story that spans centuries.

Below is an excerpt from The Tempest Murders as Claire is explaining to Ryan O'Clery, named after his ancestor Rian Kelly, the story of Rian and his lover:

“I know you too well,” Claire said. “You’re wanting the story of Caitlín O’Conor, aren’t you?”

“Who?”

She smiled. “Her name was Caitlín O’Conor. She was supposedly the great love of Ríán Kelly’s life. It was a star-crossed love story. Her father was a prominent man in the village and Ríán was a ‘lowly county inspector’ and though they were deeply in love, her father would not permit Ríán to ask for her hand in marriage.”

He felt his chest tighten and he sipped his coffee to avoid Claire’s piercing eyes.

“The tale is that they sneaked around for years; everybody knew it. Everybody except Caitlín’s father, that is. They were madly in love.” She sighed wistfully.

“What happened?” He kept his eyes on his coffee. “Did she marry someone else?”

“Her father died. Quite unexpectedly. Heart simply stopped. And without him in the way, they were clear to be married.”

As if it was a memory that he held of himself, he could see the hallway on New Year’s Eve, whisking Cait to an unused room and going down on bended knee. “So they married then,” Ryan said quietly.

“No. You said yourself he’d never married.” She brushed non-existent crumbs from the countertop before continuing. “He asked for her hand in marriage on New Year’s Eve. Let’s see, I believe it was 1838. Yes, that’s right. December 31, 1838.”

“How can you be so certain of the date?”

“Because seven days later, Caitlín was dead.”

His head jerked up and he stared into Claire’s eyes. They were as green as the fields of Ireland and now she cocked her head and eyed him curiously.

“He’d gone to Dublin, so the story goes,” she continued slowly.

“Ríán Kelly.”

“Aye. He’d been called away on business. And as Fate would have it, the great flood came while he was gone and Caitlín was swept away.”

“The great flood.”

“Don’t you remember any of your schooling, Re?”

“I suppose I don’t.”

“Aye, surely you do. It was Oiche na Gaoithe Moire.”

“Oiche na Gaoithe Moire,” he repeated the Gaelic name. “Night of the Big Wind.”

“Aye; that’s it. History says that just a couple of days prior, they had a huge snowstorm that blanketed Ireland. With it came a cold front. But the next day, they had warm temperatures the likes of which they hadn’t experienced in years. It caused all the snow to melt and melt rapidly.”

“So the great flood was caused by melting snow.”

“You really don’t remember your schooling now, do you, Re? It wasn’t that at all. It’s just that the warm front settled in over Ireland as another cold front came across the Atlantic. It was January 6, 1839—Epiphany.” Her voice took on a whispered note as though she was telling a ghost story. “There were those in the faith who had forecast the end of the world would occur on January 6, 1839—the day of Epiphany. So when the air grew completely still, so still they could hear the voices of neighbors miles apart, there were some who thought the end was near.”

He waited for her to continue. His cheeks were growing flush and he could feel beads of sweat beginning to pop out across his brow. “What happened then?”

“By nightfall, there were gale force winds. They moved from the western coast of Ireland all the way to Dublin, where Ríán Kelly had traveled. Some said the winds were accompanied by an eerie moan, a rumbling of sorts. But not thunder; it was a sound never heard before nor since. It increased as the winds grew. And then the northern sky turned a shade of red that had never been seen before.” She sipped her coffee while she watched him. “We know now it was the aurora borealis. But there was widespread panic amongst the people. And when the sky darkened once again, it darkened to the color of pitch.”

He reached for a napkin and mopped his brow.

“Are you feeling alright, Re? Would you care to lie down?”

He shook his head. “I want to hear the rest of the story.”

“Well, so the myth goes, Ríán Kelly left Dublin immediately. It was a miracle he made it back to the village at all. He traveled through the night, in the rain and the hail, with the winds all about him. Bridges had been washed away; the wind had been so strong—stronger than anything Ireland had experienced in more than three hundred years—so strong that it whipped the Atlantic into a fury and pushed it all the way across the island. Streams and creeks became raging rivers. Whole villages were wiped out. Even some of the castles were beyond repair.”

He rested his elbows on the counter and put his head in his hands.

“You’re sure you don’t want to lie down, Re? You look as if you might faint.”

“I’m fine,” he said. “What happened when Ríán Kelly reached his village?”

“It was gone. Oh, there were a few buildings still intact. The church, for one. But Caitlín O’Conor’s home had been washed away. There was no sign of Caitlín.”

“So that’s where the story ends, does it?”

“Oh, no. I suppose it’s where it just begins.”

The winds were so strong with Ophelia that one town, Cleveleys, on the Fylde Coast of Lancashire, England, was entirely covered in foam. Yes, foam—the ocean was whipped into foam, which sprayed roads, buildings and people. For video and pictures, follow this link. This was after it had already reached Ireland and tracked northward across the island and the Irish Sea.

The Most Haunted Castle in Ireland

An Irish friend once told me that any self-respecting castle must have at least one ghost and in Ireland where the veil is thin, ghosts abound. So when I came across a castle that is purported to be the most haunted castle in all of Ireland, I knew I had to explore and Leap Castle does not disappoint.

Leap Castle is located in County Offaly in the Midlands Region of Ireland, almost exactly midway between Dublin to the east and Galway to the west. The main castle—a simple square—was built around 1250 by the O’Bannon Clan, who was a secondary clan under the O’Carroll Clan. It is rumored to have been built on an ancient pagan ceremonial site and the land had been occupied continuously since Neolithic times.

The castle was added onto in subsequent generations, adding wings, a gatehouse and other structures until the castle became a labyrinth. In the chapel there exists a narrow, hidden door with a sudden drop and as the castle owners captured warring clan members, they were tossed several feet into that abyss where a spike awaited them. If they did not land in such a way to perish immediately, they were left to die an agonizing, slow death from their wounds as they starved and were left exposed to the cold and damp and the castle rats. In the late 1900’s when workers discovered the hidden doorway, they found enough skeletons to fill several cart loads.

The chapel itself is known as The Bloody Chapel for it was there in the mid-1500s that one O’Carroll brother warred against another for control of the castle. As one brother, a priest, conducted a service in the chapel, the other rose up and ran him through with a sword, killing him in front of the entire family.

In 1659, the castle passed from Irish hands to the English, who had colonized the island. Several generations of the Darby family lived there, including an arrogant, humorless man by the name of Jonathan Charles Darby. He married Mildred Dill (1867-1932) and fathered five children.

Mildred was a writer and was very much interested in the occult and what better place for the imagination to run wild than a castle haunted by dozens murdered within its cold stone walls. She often conducted séances in attempts to reach the other side of the veil and it is believed her journey across that dark, thin line awakened the most frightening ghost of all: The Elemental.

In 1909, she reported to the Occult Review, “I was standing in the Gallery looking down at the main floor, when I felt somebody put a hand on my shoulder. The thing was about the size of a sheep. Thin, gaunt, shadowy... its face was human, to be more accurate, inhuman. Its lust in its eyes, which seemed half decomposed in black cavities, stared into mine. The horrible smell one hundred times intensified came up into my face, giving me a deadly nausea. It was the smell of a decomposing corpse.”

They called this creature The Elemental and she and a number of her guests saw it several times during the decades she lived there. In 1910, her book The Hunger was published (now sadly out of print), the gothic horror inspired by the ghosts that inhabited her home and no doubt her dreams. As was the custom at the time, her writings were published under male pseudonyms, including Andrew Merry.

In 1922, the castle burned, the cause unknown, though Irish insurgents were suspected as the Darbys had continued elaborate expansions to the castle and raised the rents of tenants in order to pay for them—and in 1922, the Irish Civil War was in full swing. The Darbys left Leap Castle and Jonathan Charles Darby forbade his wife from writing any more novels. It was reported at the time that Mildred Darby had lost several manuscripts in the fire. The castle sat in morbid disrepair for decades as Ireland gained her independence from Great Britain and scores of Irish left for America and other countries around the world.

In 1991, musician Sean Ryan and his wife purchased the castle and since then, they have lived there while they have worked on restoring the castle to its former glory. They often hear voices, doors closing and footsteps when no one else is about, and many a guest has reported the presence of a woman that touches them on the shoulder as if to get their attention.

Sean prefers to call them spirits instead of ghosts, and he and his wife continue to offer private tours of the castle by appointment. (See http://www.visitoffaly.ie/Things-to-do/Culture-Heritage/Leap-Castle-Ireland-s-most-haunted-Castle/ for contact information.) It has been featured on many programs, including Ghost Hunters, Scariest Places on Earth, Most Haunted (see video below or visit https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7IkqcxrZ3mQ) and Ghost Adventures.

Leap Castle and other haunted castles inspired the writing of A Thin Slice of Heaven. In the book, Charleigh has arranged to meet her husband during one of his business trips at the castle for a second honeymoon, but when she arrives she finds the castle deserted except for the couple that maintain it. Stranded by an unusual snowstorm, the castle comes alive with spirits from the past until she is trapped between two worlds. Watch the trailer below or visit https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q7QYLfXSQeo.

Read an excerpt from A Thin Slice of Heaven by visiting http://pmterrell.com/a-thin-slice-of-heaven/.

p.m.terrell is the internationally acclaimed author of more than 21 books, including the award-winning River Passage, award-winning series Black Swamp Mysteries and award-winning Ryan O’Clery Mystery Series. She is the Founder of Book ‘Em North Carolina Writers Conference and Book Fair and the Founder of The Novel Business. She has been a full-time author since 2002. Prior to that, she founded and operated two computer companies in the Washington, DC area with specialties in defense and intelligence. Her clients included the CIA, Secret Service and Department of Defense. For more information, visit www.pmterrell.com.

Derry or Londonderry?

Londonderry/Derry is the 2nd largest city in Northern Ireland, second only to Belfast yet whether it is called ‘Londonderry’ or ‘Derry’ by residents of the Republic of Ireland and Northern Ireland has a lot to do with politics, religion and heritage.

In my book, Clans and Castles, the first book in the new historical Checkmate series, I refer to the city—then a village—as Derry. The name was originally Daire—pronounced as Derry—and though it was Anglicized, the original Gaelic name meant “grove of oak trees.” Here is an excerpt from the book describing its early history:

For five hundred years, the village had basked in its wild remoteness; while the rest of Europe had been engulfed in the Dark Ages, it had remained the peaceful and picturesque site of a monastery. Saint Colmcille himself had begun it in 521. The son of an Irish princess from Leinster and a father whose family had captured Saint Patrick and brought him to Ireland as a slave, Colmcille was said to have bridged two worlds. He was a member of the O’Neill Clan, one of the largest and most powerful clans in all of Ireland, and also a devout man of God and follower of the Catholic faith yet he somehow managed to achieve respect and reverence by both the Celts and the Gaels as well.

The land had been given to him, and although the O’Neill Clan held vast territory east of Derry, the monastery was situated on the west bank at the junction of the O’Donnell and O’Doherty domains. It was, perhaps, a gift from the O’Donnells to maintain peace between the two clans, which was often a tenuous peace at best, more often than not giving way to treachery and war.

No longer a monastery, Sir Henry Docwra had set out to change its history and was now considered the founder of the spirited village that had sprung up in its place since the English had begun her colonization of Ireland. From all accounts, after a dubious beginning, Docwra had fallen in love with the country and had striven to make Derry the jewel of the island; a lively port village and bustling trading post, it was a routine stop for journeys heading further west.

As the book unfolds, Docwra—having fallen out of favor with the English monarchy—was replaced with Sir George Paulet, a man who despised the Irish and who ruled Derry with hostility and discriminatory practices. He also coveted the land to the west of the village—land that had belonged to the O’Doherty Clan for more than a thousand years and that was ruled by Cahir O’Doherty. Cahir had come to power as a mere teenager when his father passed away and he was only 23 years old at the time my ancestor, William Neely, arrived in Ulster. He had been known as “The Queen’s O’Doherty” for his loyalty to Queen Elizabeth I, and he had married an Englishwoman, Mary Preston.

Paulet was determined to drive O’Doherty off the Inishowen Peninsula and had sent troops many times to O’Doherty castles, where they attempted to establish residency. Cahir had appealed to King James I, who had issued an edict that the Inishowen Peninsula was to remain in the hands of the O’Doherty for his loyalties during the Nine Years War, but Paulet ignored it. Finally, in April of 1608, Cahir had had enough. He had been humiliated in public by Paulet, an occurrence that he considered worse than death, as he was an honored soldier and king and had been knighted in his teens by Queen Elizabeth herself.

Cahir burned all of Derry to the ground, sparing no building, and killed Paulet. It touched off O’Doherty’s Rebellion and would make Cahir the last of the Gaelic Irish Kings.

After the Rebellion, there was no money in Ireland to rebuild Derry so the settlers—English and Scots—appealed to London. Largely funded through private donations as well as the monarchy, Derry was rebuilt and in 1613 was renamed “Londonderry” to honor those in London who had funded its resurrection.

Today those with ancient Irish roots, predominantly Catholics, continue to refer to the city as Derry. Those of English and Scottish descent, predominantly Protestants, refer to the city as Londonderry. On maps, it is frequently shown as Londonderry/Derry and in typical Irish fashion it is also nicknamed “The Slash City”.

It has been the site of much strife between the Unionists (those in favor of Northern Ireland remaining part of the United Kingdom) and Loyalists (those loyal to one united Ireland). I am currently writing the second book in the Checkmate series, in which once again Derry is the site of fighting. During the 17^th century, my ancestors defended it from attack during the Irish Rebellion of 1641 as well as during the Siege of Derry in 1688.

View the book trailer for the first book, Clans and Castles:

p.m.terrell is the internationally acclaimed author of more than 21 books, including her bestselling book, Songbirds are Free (the true story of Mary Neely's capture at Fort Nashborough by Shawnee warriors) and the award-winning River Passage (2010 Best Drama Award) about the Neely family's travels westward with John Donelson, as well as two award-winning series: The Black Swamp Mysteries Series and Ryan O'Clery Mysteries. She is the Founder of Book 'Em North Carolina, co-founder of The Book 'Em Foundation and the Founder of The Novel Business. For more information, visit her website at www.pmterrell.com.

Who We Are

Genealogy research is one of the most popular hobbies in America. In discovering our roots, we discover ourselves.

A few years ago when my book Songbirds are Free, the true story of Mary Neely’s capture by Shawnee warriors was released, I was contacted by a Neely descendant. She told me that when she was growing up, she always felt out of place; she never looked like anybody else and it had shaken her confidence. When she saw the picture of Mary Neely along with a police artist’s regression sketch, she felt as though she was looking at herself. It turned out that she lived in a part of the country that was heavily Hispanic and her pale Irish skin, hazel eyes, light hair and slight figure was in contrast with the olive complexions, brown eyes and hair and more robust physiques.

In learning of her Scots-Irish heritage, it opened doors for her—just as it had for me. Since that time, I have delved deeper into my family history. Scores of people spend untold hours placing names in perfect boxes to form extensive family trees, but I always wanted to go deeper. I wanted to know who my ancestors were, why they did what they did, what experiences formed their lives.

My father and brothers were deeply involved in establishing our more recent past, going back to the American Civil War and Revolutionary War. I wanted to go back even further to the time before they left for America. I wanted to know why they left all they had ever known—their culture, their language, their friends and family, to move to a country halfway around the world they had never visited and knew little about.

My quest for knowledge led me to William Neely. In 1608 at the age of eighteen, he left Scotland for Ulster, not knowing that the Neely family had lived in Ulster until the 1200’s. He was, in a sense, going home again. I wrote in Clans and Castles, the first book of the new Checkmate series, his thoughts as he sailed westward with Captain William Stewart:

But isn’t that why men leave? He thought. For a man that is content with his lot, one with standing in the community and a future laid out before him is rarely the man that leaves for the unknown. But take a man with poor prospects of employment, one with a doubtful future, and he has but two choices. He can remain where he is for the simple reason that he has always been there, and take what Life may send him; or he take his destiny into his own hands and set sail for the unknown in search of new opportunities and a brighter future.

At the time William left Wigtownshire, the Lowlands of Scotland had been deforested to the point that it was a crime to damage a sapling, a tree or even a branch. The class system had ensured that those born into nobility remained in nobility and those born with a lesser standing had little or no prospects for improvement. Sandwiched in between the English to their south and the Highlanders to their north, they were often caught in the middle of the fierce battles between the two. So it was when King James I of England offered land to Scottish Lowlanders in Ulster as part of his colonization efforts (the same efforts that landed the British on American shores), he jumped at the chance. He was searching to make his life better and in so doing, he changed the course of history for his Neely descendants.

His experience was not to be smooth, however, as the Irish continued to fight against oppressive edicts against their religion and their native birthrights. The land that was given to Captain Stewart, which was the land on which William first lived and worked, was sandwiched between the Gallowglass MacSweeneys (of Highlander and Viking stock) and the Gaelic clans of the O’Doherty, O’Donnell and more.

Going to Ulster and standing on the land my ancestors once owned was a life-changing experience for me. Looking at the cemetery situated on a hill so it would always overlook their holdings was like no other experience I’d ever had. Visiting a local historian and finding our family tree written in pencil a hundred years prior on the back of wallpaper was a memory burned into my consciousness.

I understand why many of William Neely’s descendants chose Virginia and Tennessee when they immigrated to America, for the rolling green hills must have reminded them of Ireland. My ancestors became ranchers and farmers, taking what they knew of cattle and sheep as well as farming vegetables, and creating enterprises in America that mirrored what they had built in Europe. They were tough and had to be tough to carve out lives for themselves against the Native Americans warring against them—just as they had carved out lives despite the Gaelic Irish efforts to drive them out.

In return, I’d like to think they made things better. When visiting Ballygawley, County Tyrone, Northern Ireland, I was happy to learn that William’s descendants, who had been given 1,000 acres at Ballygawley-Glencull, had donated land for the Irish Catholic church and school, despite the fact that they were Protestant. I learned that during the heated troubles between the two religions, the Neely family often hid the priests to protect them from harm.

And later, after coming to America, I learned that Mary Neely—the one that had been captured by the Shawnee and kept as a slave for three years before her escape and journey home—had learned so much about Native American medicine that people of all races traveled a hundred miles to see her and hopefully be cured by her.

Are you interested in genealogy? Have you explored not only the names and dates of your ancestors but also who they were, what they accomplished and what motivated them to do what they do? I would love to hear about it!

Read a free excerpt from Songbirds are Free, p.m.terrell's bestselling book about Mary Neely's capture, Shawnee captivity, escape and journey home. Read a free excerpt from Checkmate: Clans and Castles, based on the true story of William Neely and O'Doherty's Rebellion. p.m.terrell is the award-winning author of more than 21 books in a variety of genres, including the award-winning River Passage, the true story of the Donelson journey westward at the height of the Chickamauga Indian Wars.

The Emotional Impact

There’s a simple reason some people enjoy reading particular books, authors or genres. Though they might not realize it, they’ve experienced an emotional impact.

I am currently reading The Forgetting Time by Sharon Guskin. It is a heart-wrenching story, difficult to read at times and yet I can’t put it down. From the very first page, I was sucked in by the enormous emotional impact.

Noah is a four-year-old who has always been terrified of water and who knows things that can’t be explained, like the identification of lizards, how to score a baseball game or every scene in Harry Potter. His mother chalks it off to an active imagination or even that he’s a liar. But when his stories of being held underwater threaten to involve social services, she has no choice but to find out what’s wrong with him. She goes into debt, her business sidelined and the medical bills mounting yet test after test reveals nothing wrong. Until finally, she is forced to consider the impossible.

What if Noah is the reincarnation of another boy that was killed at the age of eight? A boy that simply disappeared, a boy whose mother is convinced he is still alive and one day he will come home to her? And what if Noah remembers exactly who shot him, exactly who tried to drown him, and exactly where his body is buried?

As an author, I am confronted with the emotional impact with every book I write. I write for my readers and sometimes that means they want to fall in love. Sometimes they want to be whisked away to an exotic location. Sometimes they want to be pulled back in time, perhaps looking for a simpler place, a simpler time only to discover a different set of obstacles. Sometimes the emotional impact comes in the form of having to know what is going to happen next, of solving the puzzle, of learning the answer. Sometimes it’s a heart-thumping read and at other times a breathtaking vista.

When I wrote Clans and Castles, the first book in my new Checkmate series, the emotional impact was even greater for me because I was writing about my ancestor, William Neely. There is something about envisioning an ancestor as a young man filled with hopes and dreams and desires… Knowing he loved deeply and lost intensely… Knowing he left everything he had ever known to forge a new future in a foreign land amidst odd customs, different dialects and warring factions. In a world that is divided today by religion, the divide between the haves and the have nots, power struggles and political alliances and upheavals… and then moving back in time to discover this has occurred for almost as long as man has lived on this earth. Some would flourish despite the odds; others would falter and still others would die far too early in their lives. It is the emotional journey that kept me writing and, like every author, it is the emotional journey that I hope keeps the reader reading…

p.m.terrell is the author of more than 21 books, including her bestselling book, Songbirds areFree, the true story of Mary Neely’s capture by Shawnee warriors; her award-winning River Passage, the true story of the Neely family’s journey westward with John Donelson; the award-winning Black Swamp Mysteries Series and award-winning Ryan O’Clery Mysteries. Discover book trailers, download free excerpts and read more about her books at www.pmterrell.com.

What if you could walk in your ancestor's footsteps?

What if you could walk in your ancestor’s footsteps?

Today’s environment comes with a host of challenges, including economic recession, political drama, declining industries, a shrinking middle class, wars and threats on multiple fronts. It might be easy to come to the conclusion that living in today’s day and age poses more challenges than ever.

But what if you could take a step back in time to live as your ancestors did? What do you suppose you would find there?

I discovered a series entitled Victorian Slum House that takes modern-day families and places them in the environment of their ancestors. The day-to-day struggles are an eye-opener. Consider that during the 1870’s the average lifespan in areas of London was 28. Or the 91,000 Irish that immigrated to London in search of work, many of whom came because they had watched their own family members starve to death during the potato famine. One couple, when arriving in London, discovered lodging meant renting a coffin-shaped bed for eight hours, surrounded by dozens of others; or when the bed could not be afforded, one could sit on a wood bench with a rope that prevented falling off it during sleep for half the cost.

It may be easy to think that if we are doing well economically today, our ancestors did as well. Perhaps we have an image of our ancestors living a simpler life but having all they needed—plenty of food, a stable roof over their heads and adequate, steady employment. The reality, however, may be far from that.

When I began writing Clans and Castles, the first book in the Checkmate series, I was astounded at all I learned about Wigtownshire, Scotland in the early 17^th century. The Lowlands of Scotland had become so deforested that it was a crime to cut off a branch, fell a tree or damage a sapling. Tenants often received their homes as part of their payment for work on a laird’s property, and they were moved on an annual basis. Because of that, they tended to build houses that could be erected within two days’ time and often blew away during major storms. They did not understand rudimentary agriculture such as irrigation but often thought if the land was too wet or too dry, it was simply “God’s will”.

It was that environment that my ancestor, William Neely, was born into. At the age of 18, he had the opportunity to leave Wigtownshire for Ulster—an opportunity he jumped at. In the scene below, Wills is with his friends Fergus and Tomas discussing a beautiful woman he has fallen in love with but her father doesn’t seem too keen on him:

“You have been unusually silent since you returned from dinner last eve,” Tomas said. “Things didn’t go well with the lass?”

Wills sighed. “They went well with her, aye. ‘Tis her father I am worried about.”

“What’s the story there, ‘ey?”

With the ropes secured and a short stretch of northward sail before them, Wills leaned against the railing and looked his friend in the eye for a moment. “I am afraid he could be looking for a nobleman for his daughter.”

“Ha! And didn’t we tell you?” Fergus said. “What would she want with the likes of you? More importantly, what would her da want?”

“What of your family?” Tomas pressed.

Wills shrugged. “Truth be told about it, they are tenant farmers—same as the three of us are here. Oh, and for sure, the Neely family has a decent reputation, one that has served us well. It has been a long time since our house and lands were rotated, so the house is sturdier than most and we’ve served the same laird for several generations now, we have.”

“Ah, but there’s the rub, ‘ey? Her father is looking for a nobleman for his daughter; a landowner. And a tenant farmer never owns the land himself, now does he? He tills it or he ranches it for the pleasure of the laird, and at his displeasure, he can be sent packing. ‘Ey?”

He nodded and turned to face the ocean waves. The mists were heavy this morning, the skies gray like his heart at the moment. “But though her da has lived in Donegal for two decades, at least, I had the impression his family was not of there.”

“Aye?”

“So why does a man leave all he has ever known for the wilderness of Donegal?” Without waiting for a reply, he jabbed his finger in their direction. “I’ll tell you this, I will. No man leaves home if there is something there for him.”

“Are you suggesting—?”

“I am suggesting that Varney Ó Dálaigh is a self-made man himself. See, here’s the thing: when a man is at the top of the heap, there is no reason for him to leave that. He may own lands, a manor house or a castle, even; he might have the ear of his noblemen neighbors, a place in his community. Why would he give up all of that to travel to a place so vastly different?”

Fergus and Tomas grunted but whether they approved of his logic, Wills couldn’t tell. After another moment of thought, he added, “I’d be willing to bet, I would, that he had nothing to keep him close to his family for a man does not leave home unless he sees a brighter future for himself and his children elsewhere. He brought his wife to Donegal as well, which means at the time he knew he would not likely be returning, and with his two daughters having been born in Donegal, I believe it’s safe to say that he has determined he is better off now than he was before.”

“So where does that leave you?” Tomas asked.

“Truth be told, I left Wigtownshire for the same reason, I did. I knew I was leaving. I just didn’t know when or how.”

“But that doesn’t answer the question, now does it?”

“Oh, I have an answer alright. I do. I came to Ireland to make something more of myself than I figured I could do where I was. And that I will do, or die trying. It’s just now the timetable has sped up a bit, ‘ey?”

If you could place yourself in your ancestor’s shoes, where would you be? Who would you be? How vastly different would your life be from what you are experiencing today, here, in the 21^st century?

My ancestor’s life was to change dramatically when Cahir O’Doherty, the last Gaelic Irish King, launched O’Doherty’s Rebellion and he found himself fighting for King James I of England. His actions on the battlefield would set in motion not only his own fate but those of future generations. Here’s a trailer from the book:

p.m.terrell is the award-winning, internationally acclaimed author of more than 21 books, including Songbirds are Free, the true story of Mary Neely’s capture by Shawnee warriors; River Passage, the true story of John Donelson’s river journey to Fort Nashborough; the award-winning series Black Swamp Mysteries and award-winning Ryan O’Clery Mysteries, and more. A full-time writer since 2002, she founded Book‘Em North Carolina and The NovelBusiness to assist other authors and connect readers and authors. Visit www.pmterrell.com for more information.