“Yes, the newspapers were right: snow was general all over Ireland.”

As anyone who’s read James Joyce’s “The Dead” – or even seen the movie – knows, it actually does snow in Ireland. But not often, and typically not heavily.

So, even though I was keeping a vague eye on the weather in Europe and knew that there was snow in Rome, London, and Dublin, I was still surprised to get a text from my sister Trish letting me know that they were forecasting a meter in some areas of Ireland. Turns out this was a meter in drift, not snowfall. Still, it’s bit worrisome, given that Trish and I are headed for Ireland in a few weeks. We’re prepared for rain. Snow, not so much.

Like places in the US that don’t get a lot of snow, Ireland went into freakout mode as the storm was visited upon them. The country pretty much shut down, leading tourists from hearty Northern snowish countries to laugh and bitch because tourist attractions (and pubs) were closed due to 2 inches of snow.

Not that we don’t get dire warnings in this neck of the woods when storms are looming – as I write this post, Boston is in the midst of an epic nor’easter. Not cold enough for snow in the city – yet – but there’s pretty widespread flooding in coastal areas, and the winds are howling at hurricane force. And, yes, there were many areas evacuated, warnings all over the map, and Boston this morning when I was out was like a ghost town.

But in Ireland, they’ve pretty much been ordered to shelter in place for the duration of Storm Emma/Beast from the East.

The Irish Taoiseach (Prime Minister, Leo Varadkar gave this warning:

“Everyone should stay indoors and we’re asking really everyone to heed that warning and not to risk life or risk limb by going out in the snow and engaging in any daredevil activities.

“Bear in mind in a blizzard scenario people might not be able to see their hand in front of their face – so it could be total whiteout in certain conditions.

“So it’s not the occasion in which to engage in any daredevil activities.” (Source: Irish Mirror)

And if you’re wondering how long a way Ireland has come, Leo Varadkar is the son of an Irish mother and Indian father. And, oh, yeah, he’s gay.

Don’t know what daredevil activities Varadkar had in mind, but the Irish Times had an article on the storm that had people reminiscing about what it was like back in the good old days, before Ireland had gay Taoiseachs. Back in the Ireland of 1947, when Ireland experienced a horrific snowstorm, Dubliner John Houlden was a wee Dubliner:

“Now that was a terrible time,” he recalls. “You must remember it was only two years after the war and rationing was in full affect so we had virtually no fuel and very little food even when it wasn’t snowing. And to say our clothes were not of the best quality would be a real understatement.”

He and his siblings used to be sent to the Johnson Mooney and O’Brien factory nearby where they would get “pillowcases of stale bread for one and sixpence. My mother would turn it into bread and butter pudding by adding water and raisins and that’s what we ate,” he recalls.

“We had no indoor toilets and our taps were on the outside in the backyard. Imagine how cold that was. But at least we had our own backyard,” he continues.

“A lot of our neighbours didn’t have that and had to share taps and toilets with other families. Sometimes I hear people calling people of my age mean but we’re not mean, just careful because we remember how hard things can get.”

 He describes the response now as “a little bit ridiculous. I live in Prosperous [Co Kildare] now and was in a shop yesterday where I saw a woman with eight sliced pans and eight cartons of milk. What was she thinking? The bread will be stale and the milk sour before she can get through it all.” (Source: Irish Times)

Glad to see that it’s not just Bostonians who load up on bread and milk when a storm’s predicted. At least the Irish have the race memory of The Famine as an excuse.

Eamonn McGreevy shared an even worse memory.

He recalls that there was an elderly brother and sister who lived in an isolated location near his family’s farm. A local poitín maker was passing their house to locate some poitín, which he had hidden nearby, when he he heard a “faint cry. He looked in and every stick of furniture had been burned for fuel and the brother and sister couldn’t get out the house.”

They were brought to hospital on a horse and cart but she died a month later, followed within a year by her brother. “I often think of them, even today,” he says.

Sure, it wouldn’t be a real Irish story, now would it, without bringing the dead into it. And, of course, Ireland being Ireland, there was a story on the impact of Storm Emma on undertakers, priests and gravediggers.

“I am just after doing a funeral,” said Fr Paddy Byrne in Co Laois on Thursday. “The crematorium in Dublin is closed so in that context they will have to keep the body over in the hospital,” he explained. (Source: Irish Times)

Not to be confused with Fr Paddy Bryne, Monsignor John Byrne, was also after coping with the storm:

He said, “our gravediggers have worked through the last day”. Mgsr Byrne described the weather as “unprecedented” and said the church has never had to close its doors before. He has been liaising with the local authority and emergency co-ordination group and heeded the advice to close the church on health and safety grounds.

One funeral director, Patrick Larkin, had to postpone a funeral and shutter his pub. (And, no, he’s not the only one in Ireland with this particular dual career.)

He pointed out that there were a lot of people involved in a funeral from musicians and florists to priests and gravediggers.

“It is safety first for the people attending and for the people who work in the undertaking business,” he said.

Thankfully, with “modern embalming”, the urgency to bury the dead is not what it once was.

Still,

“We are in uncharted territory when it comes to access to the deceased,” said [Irish Association of Funeral Directors (IAFD) spokesman Colm] Kieran, who explained that many funeral directors would have four-wheel drive vehicles, particularly those operating in rural areas. “Lots of Dublin cemeteries have informed funeral directors that they are actually closing until further notice,” he added.

Ach, people – in Worcester or (I suspect) in Ireland – used to be tougher. My father was waked during a blizzard, and it was pretty nasty at the cemetery, too.

Anyway, whether your cemetery is open or closed for business, you can’t do much about snowfall:

Yes, the newspapers were right: snow was general all over Ireland. It was falling softly upon the Bog of Allen and, further westwards, softly falling into the dark mutinous Shannon waves. It was falling too upon every part of the lonely churchyard where Michael Furey lay buried. It lay thickly drifted on the crooked crosses and headstones, on the spears of the little gate, on the barren thorns. His soul swooned slowly as he heard the snow falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling, like the descent of their last end, upon all the living and the dead. (Source: James Joyce, “The Dead”)

And whether we’re out in the elements or sheltering in place, above ground or six feet under, James Joyce was right. That snow or rain or sleet or hail falls “upon all the living and the dead.”