Consciously or not, most of us schedule “Can’t Miss” events on our respective calendars.
One such happening on our calendar is a three-hour drive in June from the Des Moines suburb of Johnston to my hometown of Lawler for the annual Irish Fest.
I simply cannot miss it for all the obvious reasons that people love festivals: music, food, beverages, a parade, camaraderie, laughter, and reuniting with old friends.
But for me it’s more personal than for others. I just plain love my Irish heritage. All four of my grandparents enjoyed direct lineage to the Emerald Isle. When I grew up in Lawler between 1944-1964, the town had a lot of Irish families and an abundance of Irish Pride.
Prior to becoming a Turkey Valley Trojan, my buddies and I were thrilled to cheer for, and eventually represent, the Lawler High School Fighting Irish, claiming the Notre Dame fight song as our own.
Even as a youngster I was enchanted with Irish music such as ‘Danny Boy,’ ‘When Irish Eyes are Smiling,’ and ‘My Wild Irish Rose.’ At age 73 these and other Irish songs can still bring tears to my eyes.
Thankfully, perhaps through osmosis, I developed a love for Irish story-telling. It has only been in recent years that I’ve read about the great potato famine in Ireland that caused the little country to lose millions of citizens. Many to death and even more to migration. But during it all, they kept and transported their love of laughter and story-telling to the world. And some of that world is the village in northeast Chickasaw County by the name of Lawler.
And that brings me to another reason that the Fest is special to me.
I absolutely adore small towns.
I’m forever grateful for the privilege of not only growing up in one…but growing up in one of the best. Anything that enables the rest of our state’s larger cities to recognize and appreciate what the less populated communities have to offer is terrific. And the third weekend of June every year is a perfect example of one small town that exhibits its pride.
Bill Sheridan
