It was a breathtakingly beautiful morning in Roundstone. Initially we had second thoughts about bothering Michael King again, but since the weather was unusually cooperative, we decided to head back to Innishnee for a final goodbye to our new friend, after another full Irish breakfast at Lisara House, prepared by Geraldine’s sister-in-law (we had said goodbye to Geraldine the day before because she was moving her daughter into college in Galway city).
We went up to Michael’s and were greeted with cautious warning barks of his two dogs – faithful beasts with an agility that indicated their perfection for the traversing the rocky landscape of Innishnee. We stepped inside Michael’s house while he finished breakfast and put his Wellington boots on – his wife Nancy, a strong and vibrant woman with a great smile, teased us: “You don’t give up on yer ancestors, now do ya?”
The three of us rode up the hill to the cemetery.
One of Michael’s dogs faithfully followed the car for the entire half-mile trip. Michael hopped out and quickly navigated through the centuries-old ruins and waist-high ferns, 
leading us directly to the graves of his own two uncles, then pointing to the two rounded granite, sunken boulders immediately adjacent and to the east: “That’s where your uncle’s buried, along with his wife and probably his parents as well.” 
We stood their for a while, talking with Michael and taking it all in. 
He told us about the old church and how they used to have outdoor masses down closer to the shore at a flat place where a large rock rested and people would row over from Letterard. He explained that the church was typically only used for ceremonies, such as weddings. 
He pointed out the small white home with two chimneys up the road on Innishnee where Michael King (the elder) had lived for a bit before moving into the nursing home in Roundstone, and he pointed out the home across the bay in Letterard where Michael King (the elder) had lived before that.
Without having met Michael, all of this personal oral history would have been lost to us. We thanked him dearly and dropped him back at his house, exchanging a few jokes throughout. For us, Michael was an historical gatekeeper to a dimension of our past that would have been inaccessible without him.
As we drove out of Innishnee, we phoned Brian Rabbitt to see if he was in that day at the Galway West Family History Center near Salthill, County Galway. He agreed to meet us at 2 pm to discuss the Coyne side (my grandmother’s father), but said that his search had led him to more of a dead end than he initially anticipated. With the 2 pm timeframe set, we embarked on a roundabout drive back to Galway, going through Cornamona on the way (the town listed by my great-grandfather and his known relatives as being their last residence prior to emigrating).
Cornamona was more mountainous than the coastal area of Roundstone. It was beautiful nonetheless, aesthetically aided by the gigantic Lake Corrib on the edge of town. Cornamona was a small, remote little village, off the beaten path.
It had a couple of small stores, a school, a church, a community center, and a restaurant that was for sale. This was the scenic landscape of our Coyne family – an ancestry that we would surely learn more about after meeting with Brian. 
We drove back into Galway (the roadway gradually widening and improving in quality as the big city approached) and dropped our things off at Marless House. After a quick respite, we headed to meet with Brian.
Brian kindly met with us and informed us that he had narrowed our search down to three Coyne families in the mountainous region centered around Cornamona: two families in Crumlin East and a third in Croughbach Upper. Unfortunately, the
View Larger Map records in this remote region at the time were scant and partly destroyed by a parish fire sometime later. Unlike the King/Ward side, Brian did not have a clear-cut answer for us, put he gave us the contact information of Joe Walsh - a lifelong resident of Crumlin East - and instructed us that Joe would either know which Coynes we're related to, or else know who to talk to in order to find out.
We headed back to Marless House, somewhat disappointed in not having a definitive answer in hand from Brian, but also excited about the continuing adventure that laid ahead for the next morning. After a long day, we walked along the coastline and went to dinner at Lohan's restaurant (Lindsay was not there). We dined there during our last trip and enjoyed the reasonably priced food. This time was equally as good: I had the cod & chips with mushy peas and a Bulmer's cider; my dad had the Guinness beef stew with chips and a Smithwick's draft.
We went up to Michael’s and were greeted with cautious warning barks of his two dogs – faithful beasts with an agility that indicated their perfection for the traversing the rocky landscape of Innishnee. We stepped inside Michael’s house while he finished breakfast and put his Wellington boots on – his wife Nancy, a strong and vibrant woman with a great smile, teased us: “You don’t give up on yer ancestors, now do ya?”
The three of us rode up the hill to the cemetery.
One of Michael’s dogs faithfully followed the car for the entire half-mile trip. Michael hopped out and quickly navigated through the centuries-old ruins and waist-high ferns, 
leading us directly to the graves of his own two uncles, then pointing to the two rounded granite, sunken boulders immediately adjacent and to the east: “That’s where your uncle’s buried, along with his wife and probably his parents as well.” 
We stood their for a while, talking with Michael and taking it all in. 
He told us about the old church and how they used to have outdoor masses down closer to the shore at a flat place where a large rock rested and people would row over from Letterard. He explained that the church was typically only used for ceremonies, such as weddings. 
He pointed out the small white home with two chimneys up the road on Innishnee where Michael King (the elder) had lived for a bit before moving into the nursing home in Roundstone, and he pointed out the home across the bay in Letterard where Michael King (the elder) had lived before that.Without having met Michael, all of this personal oral history would have been lost to us. We thanked him dearly and dropped him back at his house, exchanging a few jokes throughout. For us, Michael was an historical gatekeeper to a dimension of our past that would have been inaccessible without him.
As we drove out of Innishnee, we phoned Brian Rabbitt to see if he was in that day at the Galway West Family History Center near Salthill, County Galway. He agreed to meet us at 2 pm to discuss the Coyne side (my grandmother’s father), but said that his search had led him to more of a dead end than he initially anticipated. With the 2 pm timeframe set, we embarked on a roundabout drive back to Galway, going through Cornamona on the way (the town listed by my great-grandfather and his known relatives as being their last residence prior to emigrating).
Cornamona was more mountainous than the coastal area of Roundstone. It was beautiful nonetheless, aesthetically aided by the gigantic Lake Corrib on the edge of town. Cornamona was a small, remote little village, off the beaten path.
It had a couple of small stores, a school, a church, a community center, and a restaurant that was for sale. This was the scenic landscape of our Coyne family – an ancestry that we would surely learn more about after meeting with Brian. 
We drove back into Galway (the roadway gradually widening and improving in quality as the big city approached) and dropped our things off at Marless House. After a quick respite, we headed to meet with Brian.
Brian kindly met with us and informed us that he had narrowed our search down to three Coyne families in the mountainous region centered around Cornamona: two families in Crumlin East and a third in Croughbach Upper. Unfortunately, the
View Larger Map records in this remote region at the time were scant and partly destroyed by a parish fire sometime later. Unlike the King/Ward side, Brian did not have a clear-cut answer for us, put he gave us the contact information of Joe Walsh - a lifelong resident of Crumlin East - and instructed us that Joe would either know which Coynes we're related to, or else know who to talk to in order to find out.
We headed back to Marless House, somewhat disappointed in not having a definitive answer in hand from Brian, but also excited about the continuing adventure that laid ahead for the next morning. After a long day, we walked along the coastline and went to dinner at Lohan's restaurant (Lindsay was not there). We dined there during our last trip and enjoyed the reasonably priced food. This time was equally as good: I had the cod & chips with mushy peas and a Bulmer's cider; my dad had the Guinness beef stew with chips and a Smithwick's draft.
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