The loyal followers of the Ancient Order of Hibernians hung an Irish flag out the window of their Bangor headquarters on St. Patrick’s Day 1906. Mostly old and graying, they turned out to hear Samuel B. Rogers sing “Come Back to Erin” and Cornelius O’Brien render up “I’m Glad I’m an Irishman’s Son.” At the end of the program, however, these veterans of hardship paid homage to their adopted country with a hearty chorus of “The Star-Spangled Banner.”

No parade was held that year as there had been in the past when ties were a little stronger with the homeland. But “there will be no mistaking this day for every loyal member of the Irish race will show his devotion to the memory of the man who did so much for the Irish race by wearing something of green on his person, whether it be a sprig of shamrock in his buttonhole, or a bit of ribbon,” said the Bangor Daily Commercial, the voice of the Democratic Party, which included most Irish voters.

Times had changed for the better since thousands of starving, impoverished Irish had established a tenuous foothold in the Queen City and other cities up and down the Eastern Seaboard. They had survived efforts by Yankee sailors to burn them out in the 1830s, and all the discrimination, threats and ridicule that had followed that event for decades afterward. Those days were over (although the anti-Catholic KKK would make a brief appearance in Maine in the 1920s).

The Democratic Party recently had taken over city government for the second time in modern history. Men named McCarthy, Crowley, Sullivan, Grady, Doran, O’Leary and Fleming sat on the City Council. Irish Democrats had made a clean sweep in three of the city’s seven wards and helped elect powerful aldermen in two others thanks to alliances with a few influential individuals such as Charles L. Snow, the president of the Snow & Nealley Co. and a Democrat.

The city’s Republican newspaper, the Bangor Daily News, held no grudges. It ran an editorial praising St. Patrick and several more recent celebrities of the Emerald Isle. A few months earlier, in an editorial condemning ethnic slurs, the paper had stated that anti-Irish words such as “Paddy” and “Mick” were now mainly humorous references used among Irishmen themselves.

Many Irish were doing better economically as well as politically, having taken over many of the jobs in city government. The city treasurer was a Brennan and the clerk of the common council a Donovan. The school agent and inspector of buildings was a McCarthy and the superintendent of sewers a Grady.

They had virtually taken over the Police Department. Men named O’Donahue, Fahey, Knaide, Donovan, O’Leary, Mackie, Reagan, Crowley, Finnigan, McNamara, Kennedy and Curran, to name a few, were walking the beats. And they heavily populated the Fire Department – O’Brian, Curran, O’Leary, Mooney, Rogan, Sullivan, Crowley, Finnigan, Moriarty and others.

Many had done well in the private sector too. A quick perusal of the city directory showed several lawyers – Dolan, Gillin, Grady and Laughlin – and a few physicians such as Drs. Hennessy, Brooks, McCann, Murphy and others.

Many excelled at music, especially the Connors: Ella Connor, Katherine Connor, Lena Connors and Etta J. O’Connor were among the Irish music teachers.

Irish merchants were in abundance as well. You could buy art supplies from J.F. Gerrity & Co., awnings from the Mulvany Bros., ice cream freezers from James Mooney & Co., and hats from Mrs. S.A. Moran. There were any number of Irish grocers starting at one end of the alphabet with J.H. Brennan at 1 Birch St. and ending with Mrs. L.C. Toole at 335 Hancock St.

Irish contractors and skilled craftsmen of all sorts employed Irish workers, who in turn joined the city’s more than two dozen labor unions. The Grady Construction Co. at 49 Hammond St. and A.H. McVarish at 146 French St. were among them. E.F. Kelley & Son installed plumbing, T.E. Quinn & Co. put on roofs and J.E. Kennedy put in hot water heating. Andrew Kelley would build or repair a carriage, while M. Lynch & Co. would hang a bell. The list was much longer.

“At the turn of the century, the Irish in Bangor maintained a position of mutual accommodation in the social and political structure of the Protestant city,” according to Judith S. Goldstein in her book “Crossing Lines: Histories of Jews and Gentiles in Three Communities.” That meant Protestants and Catholics got together when they shared goals, but there were still barriers.

It meant that prominent Protestant leaders turned out for special Catholic events such as the 50th anniversary of the founding of St. John’s Catholic Church in 1906.

“The whole city celebrated the growth of the Catholic community: the building of the church in 1856; the addition of twenty beautiful stained glass windows in the 1880s; the installation of the bell that tolled over the river front; and the establishment of religious schools and residences,” Goldstein wrote. “No one recalled, however, that anti-Catholic feelings had prevented St. John’s from building a school on Broadway in the 1840s. Nor was mention made of the strong strains of social superiority that Bangor’s Protestant community harbored decade after decade.”

“Catholics held a conspicuous but separate place in the city,” concluded the historian. The Irish had made tremendous progress, but it still remained for French Canadians, Italians, Jews and other newcomers to gain acceptance and equality a century ago.

Dick Shaw contributed information for this column. Wayne E. Reilly can be reached at wreilly@bangordailynews.net.