It was the cold Irish summer of 1910, in a small town called Kilcolgan, County Galway in the western part of Ireleand when Michael Patrick Connolly was born into a family of seven. He was slight of frame and not too tall, and by the time he was twelve he had grown not too fondly accustomed to being the brunt of the jokes of all the bigger boys.
One day he had had enough, and waited outside the school yard in ambush for the biggest and baddest of them all. He plastered that bully square between the eyes with the largest cow patty he could find. The repercussions were fierce. At the ripe old age of twelve he was sent away for his mishief to live with his uncle and work on the farm for a bit of discipline. But the uncle never kept up his part of the bargain to send the boy to school and used him as an enslaved work hand in the fields.