The Great Ferriter Family

When this blog began, the thought was to provide a forum for individual posting of Ferriter Family histories, anecdotes, and tales that might prove meaningful or entertaining for the rest of the family to read. I’m placing this little piece into the entertainment category, although it is good history as well.

Note: The essay was originally written in 1993, fifteen years ago, but already then nearly 25 years after the fact. Most of the memories remain sharp in my mind to this day, but I’m thinking that back in ’93, these same memories were just a bit clearer.

In Which Young George Goes to Woodstock

March, 1993 Beloit Wisconsin.

In memory, the passage of time often becomes blurred, compressed, or accelerated. In my case, the distance between the Now of 1993 and the eventful summer of 1969 scarcely seems like nearly a quarter of a century. The purpose of this affidavit becomes the documentation of my impressions, perceptions, and memories of what seem even today like such recent activities.

1969 was a pivotal year in the history of the 20th century United States: Richard Nixon was inaugurated as president, men arrived on the moon, troop levels in Viet Nam reached the high water mark, the Draft Lottery was implemented, and what even then was referred to as the “Counter-Culture” was in high gear.

Rock and Roll as a stand-alone musical art form was scarcely 15 years old, yet in those few years had traversed a range extending from Buddy Holly to Jimi Hendrix. What seemd then like a sea change was underway: Rock and Roll music had come to be both a symbol and the voice of a wildly free youth – the youth of children who lived in what was by far the wealthiest nation on earth, children of the Victors of World War II, Children who were blessed by time and circumstance like no others before or since. Children blessed by time, free to attend school, to be creative, and to have fun like no one ever had fun before.

The Counter-Culture was a manifestation of this freedom, coupled with a sometimes violent reaction to the mainstream politics of the time, and and even more violent reaction to the prosecution of the War in Viet Nam. Music, dress, hairstyle, and for some, use of mind-altering drugs were all Counter-Culture related.

I graduated from High School in 1969. Having been born in December 1951, I was still 17 at graduation. My future plans were hazy: I knew that I would be attending the University of New Hampshire in the Fall, but that was then, and Summer was Now!

After High School, my buddy Dave Hislop and I had planned a motorcycle trip to California. We departed late in June, over the protests of my father, who was convinced that we would be killed. We did survive – out and back on Route 66 and partly on the new Interstates still being built in the west. We had many adventures that are not part of this tale, and all the while, whenever we connected with anyone else of our age group, we kept hearing about the big outdoor Rock and Roll concert that would be happening later that summer.

That was Woodstock, and I first heard about in El Paso Texas, about the same time as the lunar landing, which we watched at a Laundromat there.

The word of mouth communication of Woodstock seems to be one of the most remarkable aspects of the event: I do not believe that it was advertised much outside of New York City, and possibly San Francisco, and then only in specialty newspapers , but it seemed as if everyone knew about it, at least by mid-summer. Mostly by word of mouth, it seems.

Man, I knew that I was going! Advance tickets were expensive, but word was, the gates would be open to all. All of the great music groups of the day were going to play – all of them! The concert would last as long as necessary for all of the bands to play. What a scene!

So, I went off to Woodstock – myself and my cool pals from High School. My friend Frankie Drove – his father owned a Ford dealership, and somehow he obtained the use of a brand-new LTD, loaded, which fit the five of us, plus our camping gear: Frankie, Mike, Bill, John, and myself.

We drove westward from the New Hampshire seacoast, across southern New Hampshire and southern Vermont, into New York State. The driving time would have been about five hours, but we stopped for supplies across the line in NY State. Arriving within a few miles of the concert site by early afternoon, we found all of the roads, side-roads, driveways, lawns, and available fields jammed with vehicles. We parked and walked in those last few miles, leaving Frankie, who was fearful of leaving the mint LTD unattended.

As we approached the concert, the world became a crowd, and the crowd became the dominant feature of awareness: The landscape was a sea of people, and the quietest moment filled with a vast ululation of voices.

The first act that I recall was the great Indian sitar master, Ravi Shankar. What time on the first day he played, I do not know, but it may have been late in the afternoon, or early evening. I remeber slipping through the remains of a chain link fence, and moving into the crowd, listening.
The concert was not comfortable. That first night, rain came, and mud quickly became the salient feature of the land surface for the rest of our stay.

I became separated from my friends, and explored a lot, wanting to see it all, and to know where everything was. As darkness became night, I was stupefied by a sea of lights, as the crowd lit matches and lighters during a long and humorous monolog by Arlo Guthrie. This sea of lights was repeated a number of times during the show.

That night, I slept on the ground in the woods, in the rain. Most amazingly, I was found by my friends the next morning, as the literally stumbled over me while cutting through the trees, around dawn of the second day.

Frankie had somehow contrived to bring his LTD in very close to one of the fenceline gates. The car then became our base. Since our sleeping bags were all soaked, we draped them over the car to dry, (the second day began much nicer, weather-wise), where they were stolen as we slept inside, catching up on sleep missed the night before.

During the second day, I once again spent a lot of time wandering. Two of my pals were imagined or genuine victims of the “brown acid”, and went to the medical tent, which was nearby. This was not for me, so I hiked over to the playground ( I recall a giant tripod with a flat rock suspended by ropes being used as a swing, checked out the craft fair (macrame), and finally ended up by a small pond. Throughout this odyssey, the air was alive with music as the Day Two lineup performed. Periodically, I’d just sit down and listen. (Somehow, Mountain’s “Theme From an Imaginary Western” has been embedded in my mind ever since that day).

The little pond was a refuge for a few male and female swimmers, who swam nude. It was at this pond, as I dozed under a tree, that I experienced what remains in my memory as the perfect icon of the entire event: two lovely young women came down to the shore and casually disrobed in the unselfconscious manner of children, and took a dip.

The second night had great music, (hell, all of the music was great, although the Grateful Dead had some trouble ). Creedence Clearwater, and The Who put on great shows, with young George sitting in the crowd, crouched on the mud, enjoying it all.

The third day started with Grace Slick and the Jefferson Airplane, exhorting us all to rise up and endure, and enjoy…Yet by the end of the Airplane’s set, we were talking about leaving. This was Sunday, Frankie needed to get the LTD back on the lot,, we had run out of supplies and money, and were exhausted. People were starting to leave, so we decided to go too. It looked like more rain, so we piled into the LTD, damp and filthy, and headed east.

I believe that I slept the entire way home.

When the Wagons Leave the City
For the Forest and Further On
Painted Wagons of the Morning
Dusty Roads Where They’ve Gone
Sometimes Travelin´ Through the Darkness
At the Summer Comin´ Home
Foreign Faces By the Wayside
Look As If They Hadn´t Known
All the Sad Was in Their Eyes
And the Desert That´s Dry
In a Country Town
Where the Map Was Found…

(Theme From an Imaginary Western, Leslie West/Mountain, c1969)

Afternotes, January, 2009.

In 1993, I drew a map from memory of what I recalled. Last year, I held this against an actual map of the Woodstock Concert site, and was pleased to see that my 1993 recollections had been pretty close. I’d like to think that this extends to my memories of the event in general.

I do not recall all of the music that was played while we were there. Sometimes I was walking around looking at things, sometimes I was asleep. That’s just how it was. We did not have the stamina to stay until Monday, which is when Jimi Hendrix, the last act, played.

The pictures posted are typical. I may be in them, or maybe not. I will say that they are what I saw. Aside from the professionals, there weren't mant cameras visible at Woodstock.

There were drugs and alcohol at Woodstock: Mostly marijuana, LSD and wine. Aside from the misadventures experienced by two of my friends and some others, drug use was pretty low key, albeit pervasive.

Frankie’s driving, and his getting the car to within a couple of hundred yards of the stage by the second day was amazing. Just driving through the crowds must have been an incredible hassle. I don’t think we ever thanked him for that, but walking out that third day, as beat as we were, would have been a challenge. Thanks Frankie.

Final note: As we have discussed before, members of this family whether they be Farritors, Feirtears, Ferritors, et al, are often found near the heart of things, and where the action is. I've posted this little tale as another case in point.

Archived Comments:

jan said...
Drivecrank.com offers florida Defensive Driving Florida professional driving school, online drivers education Defensive Driving online Miami,online Defensive Driving Orlando, online defensive driving courses.

27 April 2009 05:05

The background doesn’t matter so much anymore. Let it be known that soldiers and Marines found themselves battling a nearly defeated enemy in Korea, as winter, 1950 descended upon them. As the frigid cold descended from Siberia, enormous armies of Chinese also poured into the Korean mountains, intent upon destroying all of the American Forces, be they Army or Marine Corps. On the Western side of the peninsula, the U.S 8th Army was smashed, and sent reeling southward in defeat. On the eastern side of the country, a combined force of USMC and U.S. Army infantry had closed in around a large reservoir, high in the mountains. This place was called the Chosin Reservoir.

The fighting retreat by the U.S. Marines from the Chosin Reservoir back down to the sea is now understood to have been one of the greatest feats of arms of all history.

Master Sergeant John Farritor, professional marine, veteran of Guadalcanal and Iwo Jima in WWII, was serving in the force that had moved up the winding mountain road to the Chosin Reservoir, when the Chinese assault hit. The following history is his history, in his words:

An Epic Journey
Yudam-Ni to Hagaru-Ri
November/December 1950

We arrived in Yudam-Ni on November 25. Every one of the 70 miles from the sea to Yudam-Ni was washed with Marine blood, spilled by fighting Chinese.

That same night the Yudam-Ni perimeter defenses were hit and nearly overrun by wave after wave of bugle-blowing Chinese. They were repelled but at a terrible price. There were 200 dead Marines and the snow was littered with enemy dead. At 0400 in the morning the Chinese left as suddenly as they had come.

The wind blowing off the frozen reservoir had a “wind chill” factor of -75°F. As a 14-year-old on the plains of Nebraska, I remember the big storm of the winter of 1934. The snow was deep and temperature was -21°F. I rode my horse Midget with a sack of cotton seed pellets to feed isolated cows lost in the snowstorm. Here the temperature was about the same but the wind chill was the killer.

For the next three days, they held the line against repeated assaults. The cost in lives was high on both sides. The Chinese had replacements, but we didn’t. We put up tents for the wounded but there weren’t enough tents; only the most seriously wounded were tented.

In this kind of cold, the best treatment was no treatment. By cutting their clothes open, the wounded would freeze to death. Most wounds froze over and sealed themselves. The blood bubbled up as it froze, looking like pink cotton candy. The corpsmen had to wear gloves to keep their hands from freezing.

While all this was going on, the U.S. Army had its running shoes on and were heading south. They had their backs to the enemy; we Marines were facing our enemy who were all around us.

When the word went out that we were surrounded, a correspondent asked Col. “Chesty” Puller his thoughts on the matter. He replied, “We got the bastards right where we want them and they’re not going to get away.” And damn few of them did!

As the battle raged, there was no escape from the incessant mélange of bugles blaring, cries of the wounded, and calls for corpsmen, all mingled with the sounds of our weapons and the rapid fire of the Chinese machine guns.

On the 29th we started lining up for our journey to the sea. Tanks and artillery would be placed on the point and spotted at intervals throughout the convoy. My three trucks would be #16, #17, and #18 in line of march.

My trucks were loaded to the top of the bed with rations. (There were no canvas tops.) This flat space was for the wounded and frostbitten patients who were unable to walk. The battalion corpsman was assigned to my first truck.

My three trailers were for dead bodies; we started the trip with three dead Marines. One of them was from my section. He had told me one time, “If anything happens to me, I hope you will write to my mom.”

I promised him that I would. However, as we loaded his frozen body in the trailer, I thought to myself: I’ll write to his mom if I get out of here alive. I did get out and I did write to his mother.

Now back to Yudam-Ni…We had infantry in front on the sides and to the rear. Hagaru-Ri was just 14 miles away as the crow flies; however, within that 14 miles were 100,000 well-trained Chinese who had been sent here with a special mission – to wipe out the 1st Marine Division. Toktong Pass was the halfway point. On the way into Yudam-Ni, a company of Marines was left at Toktong Pass. This pass had to be held at all costs. If we lost Toktong Pass, it could very well mean that all were lost. Another battalion was ordered overland to reinforce the company at Toktong. This cross-mountain move over extremely difficult terrain, ploughing through deep snow, plus having to fight Chinese, was in itself an epic. The leader Lt. Col. Davis, received the Congressional Medal of Honor. He earned it. This “fortress” in the sky was so important that they made air drops of food and ammunition.

I said before that I had three trucks. That did not mean I rode. I walked every step of the way and I saw to it that there were no freeloaders on my trucks.

At high noon on the first of December, the first units moved out from Yudam-Ni. Three hundred yards out they were heavily engaged. This was the way it would be all the way. It took 49 hours of bloody fighting to make contact with the Marines on Toktong Pass. As many as 120 Marines were killed in that 49 hours and the distance traveled was only six miles. A convoy 14 miles long is hard to protect from small suicide squads.

Our convoy speed was about three miles an hour. There were a lot of interruptions by enemy attacks. The enemy would try to plug the road with blown-up vehicles. There were bulldozers spotted all through the convoy for the purpose of shoving broken or shot-up trucks over the side of the mountain.

At five that afternoon my section arrived in Hagaru-Ri. The end of the convoy was still 10 miles out.

The troops at Koto-Ri had set up warming tents for us new arrivals from Yudam-Ni – our first warm air in many days. It was standing room only but I didn’t hear anyone complain. Come daylight the heat goes off and we move on. The outside temperature had warmed up to -20°F.

When we arrived at Hagaru-Ri we had not slept for 10 days. If one should fall asleep in this cold he could very well freeze to death. We had to keep moving. The warming tents at Hagaru-Ri were a needed break, and in spite of the crowded conditions, our exhausted bodies demanded and got a few hours of much needed sleep.

At the crack of dawn we dragged our cold, battered bodies out to the road. Koto-Ri was next. Koto-Ri was controlled and occupied by Red Chinese. As we moved out we passed through the roadblock that had kept the Reds out of Hagaru-Ri. There were literally piles of dead Chinese. Many of them had been run over by tanks. It was a grizzly sight; it showed how hard the Marines at Hagaru-Ri had fought so that we from Yudam-Ni would have a haven to which to come.

When my part of the convoy arrived in Koto-Ri, a blinding snowstorm hit. It was so bad everything had to stop. Even the Chinese had to try to survive its onslaught. For two days we endured the blizzard. Then it cleared and the weather turned colder, which is normal. At 20 below, 15 degrees up or down rally didn’t matter.

Then we reached  Sudong-Ni. This town was a welcome sight; it was at the end of the mountains  and the start of the Hungnam Plain. It also meant we were only 35 miles from the sea. As we traveled along we could see the lights of Hamhung/Hungnam. We could see the lights of ships at sea. It was a beautiful sight. Seeing it meant we had survived.

We couldn’t help but think about MacArthur’s remark that the 1st Marine Division was lost and there was no way they could be rescued. We made a liar out of him. Our fighting withdrawal meant that 22,000 Marines would live to fight another day.

Creation of the new Ferriter Family website moved me to a review of certain items that I had in hand, for inclusion on the site. A number of these are now posted as blog entries, including the following. None of these observations, speculations, and theories have been altered by the time that has passed between having been written and now…enjoy reading, and comment, please!

ARMORIAL SYMBOLS of the FERRITER FAMILY

The Ferriter Family has been known in Ireland since one generation following the advent of the Normans, and in Kerry within another generation following. Although information regarding those who came to Ireland with the Norman Lords is scant, sufficient evidentiary artifacts exist such that a framework or outline of the early Ferriter experience in Kerry may be discerned. This, coupled with a more general, but also more complete image of what life was like for the early Anglo-Normans allows a broad-brush narrative to be seen.

Historian Paul MacCotter presented a paper in the Journal of the Kerry Archaeological Society entitled “The Ferriters of Kerry”.  Published in 2003, this paper stands as the most factually rich discussion of the early years of Ferriters as established in the Ballyferriter area on the western end of the Dingle peninsula. This article identifies the social, economic, and political position of the family during the Norman Period, and provides certain insight into how the family persisted through the Hiberno-Norman period, during which documentary evidence becomes exceedingly scarce.

Other elements of information exist that can be utilized to further embellish the narrative of Ferriter family history during the late medieval and Tudor periods in Ireland. These include a paper compiled by Fr. Michael Manning, several anecdotal references in Georgian and Victorian histories, and a number of brief and sometimes oblique references to Ferriter activities during the 16th and 17th centuries, as found in official records and in the personal papers of certain noble families.

In briefest summary, we know that the Ferriters arrived into Kerry during the early period of Norman political and military consolidation. The Family, (or its head at the time), was granted extensive landholdings in the areas now identifiable as Dunurlin, Dunquin, Ballyoughtera, Marhin, Ballyferriter, and Ferriter’s quarter.  Documentary evidence exists that places these early Ferriter chiefs in the status of “knight of the shire”, the fundamental political and military unit of the feudal system. In this capacity, the knight held lands as a fiefdom, in fealty to a local lord, to whom he provided rent in kind, and a commitment to military service (along with a certain number of soldiers), when needed, or for a set period, usually 40 days per year. For the Ferriter Family, the liege lord, throughout most of the Feudal period in Corkaguiney (The Dingle) would have been the Desmond FitzGeralds.

This situation lasted for something like 250 years.

This summation brings us to the subject matter: Ferriter Family arms, or armorial bearings:

It seems as if there are none on record, anywhere, for Ferriter.  In the words of Fergus Gillespie, Chief Herald of Ireland, “It is indeed unusual that there seem to be no coats of arms in any of our sources associated with the name Ferriter” (e-mail, F. Gillespie to G. Ferriter, 4/14/2008)

That said, there remain good reasons to expect that Ferriter Arms of the period existed. Each of the knightly families who would have enjoyed entitlements from the FitzGeralds  (these other early knightly families were, Hussey, Bowler, Landers, Trant and Hoare) have registered armorial symbols. In each case, these were families descended from individual soldiers who held lands under the Desmond Earls, as did Ferriter. None of these families had any particular quality or history that would suggest any special consideration pertaining to arms. The granting of arms to heads of landholding families whose service was recognized as valuable to the crown was commonplace – to judge by the numbers of arms granted and recorded during the 17th and 18th centuries, granting of arms appears to have been a standard practice.

So why not Ferriter?

The principal factors at work in this circumstance were political, and numerical - quite frankly, the family almost died out. Certainly Pierce was certainly never in a position to press a case - he had much more essential problems to deal with - like survival.

Grants of arms were not an aspect of the earliest period. Knights in service to a FitzGerald no doubt wore FitzGerald "colors", but that was all. During the late period - especially going into Tudor times, individual arms became fashionable. On the verge of the dissolution of the Catholic Order, (Hiberno-Norman Order) in Ireland, The office of "The Ulster King of Arms" was set up to manage the application for, and issuance of armorial symbols to Irish Families.  This happened in 1552 just about the time that the rug was pulled out from under the Desmond FitzGeralds, and all hell began to break loose across Ireland, but particularly in Kerry. 

So just at the time that an office was set up to assign Arms to Irish families, the Ferriters found themselves more or less isolated, and on the wrong side of the fence.

O.K., now we are at the point where the most recent detective work has been completed:
When Lord Muskerry, (Donough McCarthy), surrendered Ross, and entered exile, he took with him 10,000 Irishmen. Later, after the Jacobite Wars, Patrick Sarsfield took a similar number into exile.  These Irishmen, in their two groups, a generation or two apart, were the "Wild Geese" of lore and legend. There were almost certainly Ferriters serving as officers in each group. It is known for certain that there were Ferriters serving as officers in several units in Muskerry's exiles, on the Continent, under French and Spanish colors.

Dominick Ferriter, Pierce’s eldest son served on the Continent for at least 7 years. We know that he did not serve under English Colors (in the exile army of Charles II), and we know that he returned with the rank of Major – significant for the times. Yet we have no record of armorial bearings that he almost certainly held.

Military protocols of the period would suggest that one or other of these men would have registered arms in Europe, in order to receive their Commissions, as possession of arms in Continental armies required this. Perhaps arms would have been created at that time.  When James II fled Ireland for France following the Boyne fight, he was accompanied by one James Terry, Athlone Pursuivant of Arms in Ordinary . This man's job was to create and/or register arms. Many Irish Officers registered arms via his office during this period. There seems to be no reason to expect that the Ferriters did not do this also.  Thing is - many of his records are outside the heraldic "system".

A possibility also exists that arms would have been registered with the Heralds of France or Spain, (also during the 1650 - 1700 period, more on this below). If this had happened there seems to be an expectation that the arms would be in the files of The Ulster King of Arms - the same office that was re-designated The Office of the Chief Herald of Ireland, in 1943. The point here is that Heralds of the European countries communicated freely with one another, even in times of war. The office of the Ulster King of Arms became the Office of the Chief Herald in Ireland in 1943.

As an aspect of subsequent efforts, all historical information immediately available has been presented to the Office of the Chief Herald in Ireland. The Chief Herald was challenged with several very specific questions, focusing upon the “Wild Geese” and Continental service as commissioned officers as is documented for several members of the Ferriter Family.

To the credit of the Chief Herald’s office, each question was pursued, and explicitly answered. Although there seems to be no reason for it, the apparent situation is that no armorial bearings are on record for Ferriter. Not anywhere.

Finally an effort was made to seek out and identify a professional Irish historical researcher who would pursue the notion that Ferriters serving as officers in Wild Geese regiments held Arms. This would require locating and researching the muster rolls of any regiment wherein these men might have served, during each of the two periods – following the Cromwellian Wars, and following the Jacobean Wars. This remains a possibility, but with fees and expenses running into the thousands of Euros, prohibitively expensive at present.
So, here we are. Investigations seem complete. These have failed to identify historical Ferriter Family Arms. Barring some startling and unexpected revelation, there will be none forthcoming. The option of Applying for a Grant Arms from the Chief Herald's Office in Dublin exists. Ferriters are eligible. The option of applying for a Grant of Arms from the American College of Heraldry also exists. There are pros and cons with either option.

Having reached this point, an opportunity exists to have input into the design, which should incorporate historical and familial traits.  These matters should be discussed with the family, to the extent that whatever decision is made, the Ferriters at large will be impacted to some lesser or greater extent, depending upon how meaningful they regard this issue as being.
 

9 of 12 ‹ First  < 7 8 9 10 11 >  Last ›