Growing up Irish in Newton Highlands during the late 40s and early 50s was often a bittersweet experience. Public exposure to Irish Americans on Saint Patrick’s Day was slanted to reports of wild parties and parades in the Irish enclaves of Boston or syrupy musical pieces by Bing Crosby and other prominent  singers of the time.   My perception of what my Irish heritage was really about changed abruptly one evening  when I was surfing our old Philco Radio and came upon a distinctly Irish voice singing “The West Awake”, an emotional piece about a 19th century uprising against the British in the corner of Ireland my grandparents came from.

By luck, I had stumbled upon Boston’s Irish Hour” produced by Tommy Shields, a kind, generous and tolerant man from County Galway.   Tommy played familiar jigs, reels and humorous recordings, but most of his material consisted of  traditional folk music from Ireland and Scotland that ‘I had never heard before, but immediately fell in love with.   The Newton connection to this story is simple but telling.   I listened to Tommy’s program regularly but never told anyone outside my family that I did so.  The  part of Newton Highlands I grew up in was overwhelmingly White, Protestant and staunchly Republican. The kids I played with didn’t care what I was, but a few of their parents had this crazy belief that I was trying to convert their children to Catholicism.   So I kept quiet, but was able to learn and softly sing an immensely diversified collection of traditional folk music from the Celtic world that my friends, neighbors and even my own parents had no idea even existed.  

My clear favorite was Christopher Casson, a gifted harpist and singer whose music induced a transcendent experience that to this kid was like a voyage back in time to the Ancient Kings of Ireland in the Halls of Tara.  One evening Tommy announced that Christopher Casson would be at Hibernian Hall in Roxbury for a Sunday afternoon concert.  My mom agreed to take me and Casson was everything and more that I imagined he would be like in person. 

When the internet and Google came on line I made repeated attempts to find Casson the harpist, but there wasn’t a trace of him anywhere.   I know several Celtic and traditional folk radio broadcasters, but none had ever heard of him or his music.   The only referenced Christopher Casson was a British  television actor from a prominent Tory English family and I was certain that no respectable Tory Englishmen would be caught singing songs of Irish liberation and bravery; but this year I decided to take a more in depth look at the English Christopher Casson and it gradually became clear that the harpist and actor were actually the same person.   Christopher Casson was indeed born in England, but he became an Irish citizen in 1946 after falling in love with the Irish people and culture during several extended appearances at the Abbey Theater.  Even more stunning, this once loyal Englishman became a devout Roman Catholic and a daily communicant to boot. How I wish some of my fear driven neighbors in Newton Highlands were still around to hear me recount that story.  Still, there was nothing on line about the recordings.

That long search came to a welcome conclusion a few months back when another try on Google turned up four of Christopher Casson’s recordings on the Internet Archive website.   Before actually playing them, I did wonder if these old 78 recordings would hold the same magic for me now that they did then.  The surprising answer was yes.   There are scratches on the discs and the pre stereo sound quality is a bit muted; but the magic is still there.  I’ve attached the four Casson’s songs to this post.  Two are at the top of my list.  The first is “Lowlands Low,” a rousing traditional song of the sea that has remained my favorite Irish Song since I first heard it more than 70 years ago on Tommy Shield’s  program. The second is “My Lagan Love,” which captures the beauty and loneliness of Ireland and its people with more depth and passion than any other traditional song I know. Christopher Casson’s rendition remains the most haunting version, at least for me.

Happy Saint Patrick’s Day.  Spring is just around the corner.