It has been six generations since the so-called reign of terror by the Molly Maguires ended in the mine-scarred mountains of eastern Pennsylvania, and in those years, the myth of the Mollys has become deeply rooted. As each generation brings its own perspective to the story, the myth changes. At first, the story was the tale of how the powerful protectors of society, the rich, the well-born, and those among the working class who saw the God-given wisdom of the rich and powerful, worked hand-in-hand to thwart a dastardly attempt by unionists and burgeoning communists to overthrow the anointed order of things. The story of the Molly Maguires in those early years was the story of the triumph of capitalism over chaos.
By the 1930s, the paradigm, as it might be called, had shifted, and the Mollys themselves had become the heroes of the myth, ardent defenders of the downtrodden, men who had been pushed to the brink of annihilation by greed and avarice, and who fought back valiantly and with every weapon at their disposal, simply to secure their fair share in America.
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DVD cover: Molly Maguires |
By the 1970s, when a popular film starring Sean Connery as Black Jack Kehoe, the reputed king of the Mollys, was made, the men who had been hanged as Molly Maguires had become icons of honorable rebellion.
It may well be that the myth of the Molly Maguires, separate from whatever historical truths may be contained in it, is about to undergo another metamorphosis. There are some who are now coming to believe there is a cautionary lesson for the present in the deaths of a band of Irish Catholic miners more than a century and a quarter ago. In a recent conversation at the old tavern in the little coal-patch Pennsylvania village of Girardville, the same bar once owned by Black Jack Kehoe, one old man acknowledged that in many respects the current campaign by the United States government against alleged domestic terrorists might be a case of history repeating itself.
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John "Black Jack" Kehoe |
Take cases like the one against the former chaplain at the U.S. prison at Guantanamo Bay who was charged with betraying his country only to have the charges later dropped, and other investigations, often targeting disenfranchised young men who authorities suspect, in some cases with little hard evidence, may be linked to the vast international network of Islamic terrorists.
As the old man put it, "there are some people who are starting to believe that."
"And you know what," said the old man named Joseph Wayne, Jack Kehoe's great-grandson and perhaps the ultimate arbiter of his legacy. "I'm one of them."