by E. P. Ned Burke

Created on: July 29, 2008

"The Hero Of Barryton"

"It's America! It's America!"

The cry rang out from one end of the immigrant ship to the other. The sound echoed off the top elite deck down to the musty levels below where the third-class passengers, mostly Irish immigrants, awaited word of the first sighting of land.

Young Jack O'Connor was the first to announce the news to his mother.

"Aye, tis true, Mum! Come on up and have a look."

"Ah, now, this is the hour we've all been waitin' fer," Margaret Maher O'Connor said to her son, unable to control the quiver in her voice. "I'll take Eileen and baby Pat. Now, ye go find Dada and tell him the news. More than likely he's down in the boiler room showin' off and a playin' his sport."

Dada's sport, as his wife Maggie called it, was to arm wrestle other strong men, often taking on two at a time using both arms. It didn't matter if it was for a pint or a sixpence. He simply enjoyed the challenge and took on all comers.

On this twentieth day of March 1910, his opponent was a giant of a man by the name of Adolph Mueller. He had large hands like Dada and equally strong arms. They were a good match and bets on the outcome increased with each passing minute. They had been at it for half an hour, each not giving an inch to the other, when Jack raced into the smoke-filled boiler room.

"Dada! Hurry!" He pointed a small finger upward. "We can see America. Mum wants you to come topside now to have a look."

The men surrounding the small wooden table where Dada and Mueller sat arm-in-arm in combat tried to silence the boy.

"Quiet, lad," one of the men said to Jack. "There's a bit of money at stake here. Ye don't want yer da to lose his concentration, now do ye?"

Dada looked at his son and grinned. "It's okay, Jack. Tell yer mum I'll be there in a bit." His son had seen that grin before and knew his father was about to teach the big German a lesson in humility. As soon as he was out of sight, Dada looked around the room and asked if all bets had been made.

"Aye, that they have O'Connor," one of the men answered.

"Good then," Dada said. He eyed his perspiring challenger and smiled one of his grandest Irish smiles. "Well, laddie," he said, "you've been great sport. But, now I best put an end to this." He squeezed Mueller's hand. The German winced. Dada's biceps bulged as he forced his opponent's arm slowly down to the table. Mueller grunted loudly and fought to raise his arm, but it was an attempt in futility. The match ended with a resounding thump, and the loud cheers

• 1
• 2
• Next Page >>