The Sheehan family crest comes from the Gaelic name O’Siodhachain, meaning peaceful. Courtesy image.
By P. Misty Sheehan
I was living in Washington, D.C. during the Vietnam War when mutual friends introduced me to John Francis Link, of Irish descent, whose face was the map of Ireland ⸺- sandy hair and thousands of freckles all over his body. He was in the U.S. Special Forces; he said that a Special Forces camp was the only place you could get a cold beer in Vietnam.
I am of Irish descent, too. My great-grandfather came over from Cork as an adolescent, seeking adventure and good fortune.
John quickly came up to D.C. with a couple of buddies from Fort Bragg, and they would all crash on my living room floor. He knew of a nearby traditional Irish tavern, with a long bar, a dart board and tables for the guests and their families to sit around. You didn’t just sit with the people you came with but with others, too, and the craic (jokes) flew, and you talked about the IRA and how the island should be one country only ⸺ Ireland.
John got posted to Vietnam, and, after a wild party with his buddies, they flew out. It wasn’t two months later when I got the phone call that John Francis Link had been killed.
Twenty years later, I was in China on a boat on the Mekong River and felt his spirit very close around me.
I have since visited Ireland three times and enjoyed the lush green countryside and had a Guinness at the Sheehan Bar in Dublin. But John never got to visit the magic of Ireland; his life was too short.
So, every St. Paddy’s Day since I left Washington, D.C., I have had a beer in memory of John Francis Link. He favored Budweiser, but, as the microbreweries have been proliferating around here, I upscale my beer to the many creative flavors available. I don’t think he would mind.
So, John, here’s to you!
