Distinctly Montana Magazine

D I S T I N C T LY M O N TA N A • S P R I N G 2 0 1 5 42 42 "Here" is where my family settled. A patch of Montana landscape where the luminous white outline of the Canton Church ap- pears against the freshly powdered Big Belt Mountains. In my 50 years, with all but a handful spent outside of Montana, this was my fi rst visit to this isolated place where the bodies of my great-great-grandparents, Michael and Honora Sullivan, lay bur- ied. They migrated to Boston from Ireland in 1844, and by 1865 they'd homesteaded here in the once-lakeless Canton Valley on the banks of the Missouri River. Buried with them—I imagine in a romantic sort of way—was our ancient Irish (Gaelic) language. Over time, it was hidden only in the idioms and sayings we habitually utter in our distinctly-Montana-ish dialect. Thank God it resurfaced. A part of me imagines it rose up from the souls of our pioneering ances- tors, but the "real" story of its return goes something like this... The Montana Irish Renaissance originated from the converging of two ingredients. The fi rst was the stock material—Montana's large population of Irish descendants—and the second was the seasoning that came in the form of a trio of outsiders with strange names—Liam Ó Cuinneagáin, Barra Ó Donnabháin, and Traolach Ó Riordain. In October of 1996, I was sitting with my friend Richard Newman at the Old Post Pub in Mis- soula, where across from us sat a lively, gray- haired and slightly portly Irishman from Donegal named Liam Ó Cuinneagáin. While in Ireland the prior summer, I'd stumbled upon Liam's school, Oideas Gael, in the tiny coastal village of Gleann Cholm Cille. Upon my return to Missoula, I emailed him, seek- ing his advice on how to bring the language to Montana, and within weeks, he was here teaching at our inaugural Irish-language Im- mersion Weekend. Liam is best described as an Irish-language evangelist; indeed, he is a M o n t a n a ' s I r i s h R e n a i s s a n c e Dancing girls at the annual An Ri Ra Festival in Butte The newly-opened Thomas Meagher bar in Missoula. The Irish renaissance not only included an explosion of Irish language, pub sessions and dance events, it also increased the visibility of Irish-themed establishments throughout Mon- tana, including bookstores, gift shops, and pubs. A Millennium sports an Irish language tat- too to prove interest in maintaining Irish- Montana identity permanently. Irish traditions are passed down to the next generation of Montanans. my fi rst visit to this isolated place where the bodies of my great-great-grandparents, Michael and Honora Sullivan, lay bur- ied. They migrated to Boston from Ireland in 1844, and by 1865 they'd homesteaded here in the once-lakeless Canton Valley on the banks of the Missouri River. Buried with them—I imagine in a romantic sort of way—was our ancient Irish (Gaelic) language. Over time, it was hidden only in the an Irish language tat- Irish traditions are passed down to the next generation of Montanans. DONNIE SEXTON DONNIE SEXTON THOMAS SULLIVAN THOMAS SULLIVAN T hey say a culture isn't a culture without its language, and if that's truly the case, Montana's Irish culture must have lay dor- mant for well over a century and a half. Lucky for me the language came back. For, after all, I doubt I'd be standing here, alone, on this clear, brisk April afternoon. BY THOMAS SULLIVAN

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