Oliver McCann's earliest memories are of sitting around a turf fire, singing in his native Ireland.
McCann, who spends a few months out of the year in Tucson and the rest of it back home, says the Irish learn to love song at an early age.
And unlike Americans, who often need the persuasion of a church service or a few rounds of beer to sing, Winnie Ryan-Nanna, who was born and raised in Ireland, says the "Irish will sing anywhere."
Customers in the Harp & Shamrock, the Irish pub that Ryan-Nanna ran until it closed about five years ago, staged regular singalongs, joining in traditional tunes long before the brews began to flow freely.
On St. Patrick's Day, the singing would start by 8 p.m. in the Tucson bar.
That's typical, says McCann, 60.
People are also reading…
"I think the difference might be that Americans like to be entertained, while the Irish like to entertain," McCann says.
People gather in Irish pubs. Sunday afternoons might have children, parents and grandparents all together, singing. At a certain point, if people are together, both McCann and Ryan-Nanna say, the singing will start.
"Even in our houses. All my friends, we get together once a week or so, and we'll sit around and sing and recite poetry," Ryan-Nanna, who is "not quite 70," says.
In Ireland, where Ryan-Nanna lived until she was 17, visitors often offer a song, a poem or a dance — a "party piece" — in exchange for a host's kindness.
And while McCann admits a pint of Guinness doesn't slow anyone down, he says people will sing, particularly in the country, whether alcohol is involved or not.
"What you often get is someone will start a song on one corner of a pub and someone on the other side will answer," he says. Competition ensues, with singers trying to come up with a new and better song. McCann once participated in a singing session that lasted for four hours.
The cultural difference, says Seton Hall Irish history expert Dermot Quinn, has contributed to the perception that St. Patrick's Day is a time to make merry by downing a few too many pints.
The idea of an "Irish drinking song" is an American cliché, Ryan-Nanna says. The label doesn't fit.
Ann Haralambie, an Irish-American who has visited the Emerald Isle, says the camaraderie — not the swigging — takes the front seat in Ireland.
There, say Quinn and Haralambie, St. Patrick's Day is a serious, religious holiday, not a second Mardi Gras party.
"People wear rosettes and go to Mass," Haralambie says.
Often, says Quinn, who grew up in Ireland, the songs have historical resonance.
"It's all about leaving home, England and 800 years of oppressions," he says. "It's kind of like country and Western. There aren't too many happy Irish songs."
But others, the rebel songs in particular, Ryan-Nanna says, have upbeat tempos that make them fun to sing together — in gathering places like bars.
"They're associated with drinking because they're loud," says Ryan-Nanna.
The Star asked readers to send in their favorite Irish songs, and more than 50 songs came in. Some readers sent lyrics of their own, while others sent us old favorites and the stories that go along with them.
Some, like Michael McCarthy, who submitted a poem called "The Pig Fair" told stories of sharing the words with families.
Others sent in songs they sang in the days of their youth.
In Ireland, St. Patrick's Day is a religious holiday. Sam O'Shaughnessy wrote "St. Patrick's Battle Hymn to the Irish Republic."
These lands have seen the greatness of the blessed saint this day / He has trodden out the famine and the hunger of hell his way
His staff has given light and hope to men who lost their way / He dreams of Erin Go Bragh
Chorus
Glory Glory Hallelujah, Glory Glory Hallelujah Glory Glory Hallelujah
He dreams of Erin Go Bragh
They have seen him in the war camps of Kilkerry and Kildare / He has guided the dying lads in eternal lasting prayer
They can see his rightful wisdom etched across a burning cairn / He dreams of Erin Go Bragh
Chorus
We have heard his flaming words across a land shorn of its men / As he deals with strangers in hopes of peace forever now and hence
Let everyone here believe in him and then they will not bend / He dreams of Erin Go Bragh
Magda Amado learned this verse from the "Riverdance" crew when it performed at Tucson Music Hall.
Raised on song and stories / heroes of renown / the passing tales of glories that once was Dublin town
The hallowed hills and houses / the haunting children's rhymes / that once was Dublin City in the rare old times
Ring a ring a rose as the night declines / that once was Dublin City in the rare old times
Dan McDonald wrote a few verses of his own. In traditional form, he pokes fun at some Tucson's authority figures.
Oh dear, what would the blather be? / Seven professors all stuck in one lab'o'try.
They'd be there from Sunday to Saturday. / Oh, what might their blather be?
The first professor 'tis old Doctor Pete. / Building young minds he thought'd be neat.
But he prefers to build with concrete. / Oh, what might their blather be?
And it's . . .
The second one in 'tis dear Doctor Lute. / "The best part of teaching is wearing a suit."
His students can't pass, but boy can they shoot. / Oh, what might their blather be?
And it's . . .
We mustn't forget our sweet Doctor Weil, / Who practices his craft with gumption and guile.
The root of the cure he says is a smile. / Oh, what might their blather be?
And it's . . .
Another one stuck there 'tis slick Doctor Click. / An honorary degree he earned mighty quick.
"If you give enough money, your name they will pick." / Oh, what might their blather be?
And it's . . .
The next one in 'tis the good Father Greeley. / Whose lectures they say are as clear as Swahili.
Still his opinions he shares with us freely. / Oh, what might their blather be?
And it's . . .
Alas, 'tis a lassie with the law she is handy. / An adjunct professor, we dare not call Sandy.
Just working two weeks she finds pretty dandy. / Oh, what might their blather be?
And it's . . .
The last in the lab 'tis Professor Bob, / You'll have to excuse him, he's new at this job.
Wait a few months then the insults do lob. / Oh, what might their blather be?
And it's, oh dear, what would the blather be? Seven professors all stuck in one lab'o'try. / They'd be there from Sunday to Saturday. / Oh, what might their blather be?
Ron Husemann sent in this rebel song.
When Ireland gets home rule, when Ireland gets home rule, / We'll crown all the Sullivans and O'Tooles.
Maggie Murphy will be queen and the ships all painted green, when Ireland gets home rule. / We'll have a standing army of 100,000 men, led by a general whose name is Finnegan.
When Ireland goes to battle, all the beer cans will rattle, / When Ireland gets home rule.
Kate Maguire learned the lyrics to this song at an Irish bar in Chicago, but she has clear memories of singing it in Rome. "The Moonshiner" has been recorded by various artists in several incarnations.
I'm a rambler, I'm a gambler / I'm a long way from home.
And if you don't like me / Well leave me alone.
I'll eat when I'm hungry / I'll drink when I'm dry
And if moonshine don't kill me /I'll live till I die.
Here's a selection of a song John Cunningham would sing as a child. It starts slowly but moves to a "maddening, tongue-twisting pace," he says. As a boy, he'd impress his dad and his friend by singing without tripping over the words.
There was Johnny McEldoo and McGee and me / And a couple or two or three / went on a spree one day.
We had a bob or two, which we knew how to blew, / And the beer and whiskey flew and we all felt gay.
We visited McCann's, McLemann's, Humpty Dan's / We then went into Swann's our stomachs for to pack.
We ordered out a feed, which indeed we did need / And we finished it with speed, but we still felt slack.
● St. Patrick's Day Parade and Festival
Festival begins at 10 a.m. Saturday at North Church Avenue and West Alameda Street, Downtown. Parade starts at 11 a.m. at Franklin Street and North Stone Avenue, Downtown. Entertainment will continue with Irish music throughout the day.
● Corned beef and songs
The staff at O'Shaughnessy's Song Hall and Supper Club, 2200 N. Camino Principal, will be singing Irish songs with a band starting at 7 a.m. For more information, call 907-0071.
