Our Map
By Norm Nance
September 10. 2008
This a tale of two men who really love their country and also are a little nuts.
It all started when they were both retired from Law Enforcement around the same time. They had been friends for some time and got along together. After awhile their wives said they should do something as they seemed to be at loose ends. Translation: Get out of our way as you two are driving us nuts by being underfoot. SO, we got together and my friend, Roman Sawka, proposed an idea about a tribute to his adopted country. He is originally from the Ukraine. We came up with several ideas then he thought about a map of the good ole U.S.A. I thought it was a great idea.
Now came the brain storming as to how and where to make it. He thought of buying some property in the desert and putting down some asphalt and painting the map on it. This one we bantered around for some time and finally set it aside. The he came up with the idea of putting it on some cloth, maybe canvas. I went a bought a small piece of canvas, about two square yards, and some silk screening paint. I painted a good portion of the canvas and brought it over to Roman. We finally decided it would be way too heavy and that idea was set aside.
He was talking to some friends and one of them suggested using nylon as in wind breaker jackets. Sounded good to the both of us, so, off to the fabric shop. We found there were plenty of colors and the material was light. This is what we wanted. We had visited two fabric stores and finally decided on the one which was located at that time in the Coddingtown Shopping Mall. We gathered bolts of the different colors we wanted and carried them up to the counter. There were several women watching us and the looks on their faces were full of questions. The clerks also gave us strange looks, but one asked if she could help. Roman said, "We want to buy this nylon." "And how much do you wish to purchase?" She asked. "All of it and we need to know how much is here as we will need even more."
Now we had several women looking at us and several started asking what we were going to make with all that cloth. After much guessing and other comments, we let them all believe we were going to make a hot air balloon. Roman had figured out about how much cloth we would need. I had transferred a map of the U.S. onto 1/4 inch graph paper and we then figured out how large to make it. After the arrangements had been made, we took what cloth we had and went back to Roman's house.
We started in April of 1980. We worked exclusively at Roman's house and all the family, his and mine were keeping quiet as to what we were doing. I made a grid using angle aluminum and fine wire. This gave us a six inch grid to work with. For every 1/4 inch grid on the map, it was translated into a six inch grid on the cloth. To be truthful, neither of us realized how really big this would be. We had decided to start in the northeast as this is where the smallest states were and also the most complicated coast and state lines were located. I marked and cut and Roman did the sewing.
We rented a portable Singer sewing machine and away we went. I did some sewing, but he did most of it. I had the cutting down and he had the nimble fingers. We cut and sewed and cut and sewed. Soon we had this area completed. It included part of Canada and the New England states and some Atlantic ocean. We took it to a small park almost over the fence from Roman's and with the help of his sons David and Dan and his wife Pat, we opened up the first part of the map. We were amazed and extremely happy as to the outcome. It looked really good. We folded it back up and took it back and started on the southern quarter of the country. This went some what faster and then it was finished. Again we went to the little park and opened up the South. WOW! Folded it up and took it back and sewed it onto the first part. Then came the Northwest and again it went fast.
Another showing at the park and some more WOW's! We were getting good at this. Maybe we could open up a sew shop or something, naw. We then tackled the rest of the west and this was almost too easy. We became careful now so we would not make any mistakes at this point in the game. Again to the park for the unveiling and again we were impressed by how good it looked. When we got it back to the house, we started sewing it all together. We had purchased some rope and we sewed a pocket around the outside edge. We double stitched all the seams and made sure the map would not pull apart. After all the sewing, we place eyelets taken and there were also a T.V. crew there. We were both interviewed and I was told Roman made it to the tube and I was just shown standing by his side. I wish we could have gotten a tape of that, but we did not.
The map has been displayed many time after that and one time it was at Hamilton Field for an Armed Forces Day celebration. I went up in a Coast Guard helicopter and took some pictures. Cannot find them now. Roman has also showed in Chico for the high school and some other occasions. After displaying the map at the Chico Elks a few times, we decided to finish the project. We included Alaska and Hawaii. It only took us twenty years to do that. On this last July 4th, in 2008, we again displayed it and it was still in beautiful shape even after twenty eight years of going in and out of it's box and packaging. It has also been across country.
When Ronald Reagan was to be president, it was flown by Flying Tigers airlines, for free, and taken to the arena to be displayed. When it got there, those in charge found out it's size and they had no place large enough to show it. To show it in the vertical, it would take a building at least three stories high.
Roman and I are still very proud of our country and we still take pride when we are asked to display it. We were asked if we could have it displayed again at the Chico Elks for an honoring on 9/11/08. We said yes, we would be proud to do so.
Some further information. Roman contacted the Guiness World Record people and sent them all the information and pictures. They commented on our around the outside edge then ran the rope through the pocket. We finally finished and had a drink to celebrate. Now we had to find someplace where we could lay out the map and not draw too much attention. Roman was on good terms with some people at Sonoma State College, now University, and arranged for us to use the gymnasium. We all went there, Roman, Pat, David, Dan and myself. We spread it out and it covered the whole floor from end to end and side to side with some map left over.
WOW! Again. Now we had to put it outside someplace and take some good pictures. It was decided to use the Sonoma State football field as it had some bleachers where we could stand and get a good look at it. A few days later, out we all went again. A friend of David and Dan's came along. We placed the folded map on the field and the young boys started to unfold it. It was spread out and David was holding onto one corner when the wind caught the map and it opened up like a great sail and pulled him off his feet and dragged him from Florida to Kansas before he let go. What a ride. We got it staked down and we all went into the bleachers and had a good look. Again, WOW!
Roman had set a finished date of 3 July for the map so we could display it at the Rohnert Park Founders Day celebration on the 4th. We made it with a day to spare. On the Fourth of July, 1980, we displayed the map for the first time to the public. Some publicity had been generated and Congressman Don Claussen was on hand to give it an official sanction. An airplane flew over and some pictures were achievement, but said they could not include it in their book as it was an ambiguous achievement as they had nothing to compare it to. They also said if someone made another one out of another material, even though it may be smaller, it would confuse the issue. So we must be satisfied with just being on file with the Guiness Book of World Records.
Now for some statistics on the map; Size -108 ft by 72 ft or 36 yds by 24 yds or 7,776 square feet. Materials- nylon -1,000 yards or .56 of a mile. Thread -32,745 feet or 10,415 yards or 6.2 miles. Man hours - 452. Approximate cost -3,850.00. Interesting little fact; when the second order of nylon came in, the cost was 1776.00 dollars. Coincidence or providence?
Genealogy The Easy Way,
Easter Weekend In Rural Ireland
By John A. Klein Sr.
August 22, 2008
I spent a happy two weeks in Ireland at the spring equinox this year, including a propitious visit over Easter weekend at a rural town called Urlingford, in the County of Kilkenny.
My journey was at the invitation of our daughter Catherine. She has been to Ireland for extended periods several times lately, working with a group out of Chico State University on an international educational project. She has made friends there. This spring she decided on a vacation trip with two of her young adult children, Katie and Brian, and invited me to come. Mary, having commitments at home, encouraged me to make a foursome of the party, so I gladly went along.
We headquarted in Dublin, where we could leave our baggage behind during side trips in various directions. We visited among other places Belfast, in Northern Ireland, Waterford to the south of Dublin, and a most beautiful spot in the Wicklow Mountains called Glen da Loch...In English, the Glen of the Lakes, and Loch in Irish Gaelic is pronounced like lock in English. We traveled by railroad and rented automobiles, ate in friendly pubs and heard good country music; we toured ancient cathedrals, excellent museums, and the wondrously preserved medieval castle in the City of Kilkenny. We did a lot of what tourists usually do.
But of all the places we visited, Kilkenny County was the highlight... I will make it the featured subject of this paper.
To start, our children have long been interested in family trees. Three of our daughters in particular have tried their hands at genealogy research, Theresa, Mary Beth and Cathy. They knew my American born mother came from Irish people on both sides, but little about her ancestry behind her parents' generation. I met my grandfather, John McGraw, only once, when I was in high school. He was in his upper eighties then and told me he had landed in New York the day after Lincoln's assassination. He said he came from Kilkenny. For many years afterward that was about the sum total of my knowledge of the history of my mother's family.
I remember however a day in grade school when schoolmates told me of John McGraw of the New York Giants. I excitedly asked my mother if that famous man was a relative of ours. She said grandpa knew about him and thought he was maybe a fifth cousin but had no interest in him or professional baseball, which he classified as show business. As a boy I was puzzled that my mother always stated her maiden name as McGraw, while letters from her sister Catherine, who never married, came from Catherine McGrath. I came to believe that both these names are spelling variations by which English speakers try to imitate the Gaelic sound expressed by the letters t and h together at the end of McGrath.
My diligent daughters had determined my grandfather was not born in the City of Kilkenny, the principal city in the county of the same name, but in a rural town roughly twenty miles out in the countryside, called Urlingford. There was a catholic parish church there and it was thought one might find a record of his baptism at that parish. So we travelers decided to spend the Easter weekend at Urlingford, and went by railroad to Kilkenny city. Let me momentarily digress to tell my readers there is excellent railroad service in Ireland, fast and modern and on time. As I rode in comfort on that two hour or so trip from Dublin to Kilkenny, how I wished we could have such a modern and comfortable accommodation up and down California as was that sleek, clean and fast train.
We rented an automobile for the weekend. Katie drove the country roads, keeping to the left hand side of the road with the steering wheel on the right side, as in England, with expertise she had learned in her husband's native county, New Zealand.
After a good late afternoon meal in a restaurant in Kilkenny city, which claimed to have been a public house dating back to circa 1342, we made our way to Urlingford and found just outside the town the dairy ranch with the Bed and Board Cathy had located for us on the internet. It was about ten o'clock when we rang the doorbell and waited in the stillness of a clear, cold night, a bit worried that our hostess had given up on us and gone to bed.
After two or three rings a tall man appeared at the door. Recognizing our name, he invited us in, saying his wife would be out in just a few minutes. He built a fire in the fireplace and we settled down in comfort. Our host and hostess were Michael and Eileen Joyce, who are now among our unforgettables. He had fifty milk cows, some steers, calves and two huge bulls to take care of just behind the house. She was a soul of hospitality and her breakfast table was the best one could ask for. Our internet reservation was a happy choice. Michael was a quiet man. His wife did most of the speaking, but as we were about to retire for the night he asked if we had come there "looking for folks." Cathy answered that we didn't think any of the family were still in that part of the country and our quest was for records. We intended to stay until Monday for that purpose. We told him the family name was McGraw or McGrath.
Easter morning after breakfast Michael said he had got to thinking and had made some telephone calls, and had found a second cousin of mine living in a small town (Johnstown) five miles or so up the road. His name was David McGrath, and we now had an invitation to lunch at his home on the next day. He said also he had told the local parish priest about us, and the latter was willing to meet us Monday morning to examine church records there. We were, mildly stated, astounded.
So we worshipped on Easter Sunday at the parish where my grandfather had been baptized in mid nineteenth century, and roamed the beautiful countryside. In Urlingford we found, unmarked, the ruins of a castle and church beside an ancient cemetery dating back to medieval times.
Came Monday we met the priest as agreed and sat at a large table on which he laid the parish records. Katie and Brian stood over his shoulders and photographed pages which show the McGraths from the first decade of the nineteenth century forward, baptisms, and marriages through four to five generations.
That was as far back as we could go. We were already aware that records of present day Roman Catholic parish churches in Ireland start between the end of the 1700s and early 1800s. That coincides with the time the English Parliament finally ended some three centuries of legal suppression and persecution of catholics and others who had refused to go over to the Church of England and had to go underground to practice their religion, and then at the risk of confiscation of property, imprisonment and risk of life itself.
Our meeting that day for lunch with David McGrath and his wife, Sheila, was delightful. He is some ten years younger than I. Their hospitality was supreme; Sheila's Irish stew was perfect. David's grandfather was a brother of my grandfather, so our relationship is through a common great grandfather. He confirmed that almost all, if not all, of our grandfathers' generation had emigrated, and finally in 1929 his own parents came to the United States, just in time for the crash on Wall Street and the onset of the Great depression. They had no chance to establish themselves here, and went back to Ireland, where he, David, was born not much later.
Incidentally, we learned it was an Irish custom to name a firstborn son after his grandfather and a second born son after his father. My maternal grandfather was John. He had a brother by name of David, who was grandfather to our host that day. The A in my name stands for August, my paternal grandfather, so I am named after both my grandfathers. My brother Arthur, my mother's second born, was named after my Father.
We had train reservations for late that afternoon for the return trip to Dublin, and finally had to depart the warmth of the McGrath home and their charming company.
David told us among other things we share a famous and wealthy cousin somewhere in Ireland, whose fame and fortune stemmed from the fact that he was a winning jockey in the Irish Grand National back in the fifties. It may not be widely known here, but I tend to think the Irish are as crazy over fine horses and steeple chases as any nation on the face of the earth.
We left Kilkenny happy to know our genealogy researches have thus far turned up a famous jockey, but no horse thief.
This story t ook place a few years ago, but during this season of material giving, its good to be reminded of the intangible gifts.
My friend, Robert, died last week. Although I had worked with him for only a short time, at Sacks, the Hospice/Face to Face thrift store where I volunteer, we had developed a relationship that was meaningful to me. He was in charge of the toy department, repairing and bringing all manner of toys back to life. One day, as I passed by his workbench, I heard him talking to a stuffed animal he was sewing with a long needle.