Irish are Emigrating again

Here in a vest-pocket neighbourhood at the northern edge of the Bronx, they have lived for generations in an improbable Irish village. Spices are flown in for Irish bacon, which is cured in the basement beneath the butcher shop. Grocers stock Original Andrews Liver Salts and Chives Bramble Jelly. But in one of the unexpected effects of September 11, Irish immigrants are leaving the US in waves; they say the crackdown on illegal immigration, coupled with a booming Irish economy, has eliminated the advantages that drew them here.

Ten years from now, say activists pushing for immigration reform, there won8217;t be Irish neighborhoods left in New York at all. 8216;8216;Watch the various airlines heading for Ireland,8217;8217; said Adrian Flannelly, chairman of New York8217;s Irish Radio Network, 8216;8216;and you can see the same type of grief and sorrow that there has been in the worst days of our history, where immigrants would leave everything behind them.8217;8217; The Irish in America are as old as America itself, he said, and in that sense, this was a disgrace.

The Irish-born population in the United States has been dwindling for years, from 251,000 in 1970 to 169,827 in 1990, according to the Census. It has fallen sharply over the last four years, most notably between 2003 and 2004, when it dropped from 148,416 to 127,682. The shift is felt most acutely in neighbourhoods like Woodlawn.

James Carroll woke up here 11 years ago, on his first morning in America. He threw open the window of an apartment on 231st street and the first voices he heard were Irish. It dawned on him gradually that, after escaping the small-town society of the Irish countryside, he had found that life re-created in the Bronx.

The names on the storefronts speak volumes: Down the road from Rory Dolan8217;s pub is Ned Devine8217;s, Sean8217;s Quality Deli 8217;8217;All Things Good and Irish8216;8216;, the Celtic Kitchen, Fagan8217;s Ale House, P J Clarke8217;s Saloon, Lark8217;s Nest Bar, McGinn8217;s Tavern, the Hibernian and Aqueduct North8212;named after the huge public works project that in the 1890s first drew Irish labourers to the neighborhood.

It was not so long ago that new arrivals in the Bronx could tap into a vibrant cash economy. But after September 11, social mobility began to drift out of reach. Drivers8217; licences expired and could not be renewed. Real Social Security numbers were needed to apply for jobs, open bank accounts, even to join a gym. Illegal immigrants could no longer take the chance of flying home to Ireland for family gatherings.

For some, the sacrifice began to seem too great, said William O8217;Leary, 35, a carpet-layer. The Gaelic Athletic Association, which organises Irish football and hurling tournaments, decreased its number of teams by seven last year. Danny Moloney, who owns Liffey Van Lines, a moving company, has begun to turn Irish applicants away because it is no longer safe to hire undocumented workers. Instead, he is hiring Poles.

What has resulted is an emotionally exhausting round of departures, said Geraldine Mahon. Mahon, 30, guessed that she had attended 18 goodbye parties since November; among the departing friends were six of her husband8217;s siblings. Each time a friend leaves, she said, it becomes more of an effort to regroup.

Los Angeles Times