Roanoke Times
                 Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.

DATE: TUESDAY, November 28, 1995                   TAG: 9511280087
SECTION: NATL/INTL                    PAGE: A3   EDITION: METRO 
SOURCE: KEVIN CULLEN THE BOSTON GLOBE
DATELINE: ROSLEA, NORTHERN IRELAND                                 LENGTH: Medium

HE'S SPEECHLESS OVER POSSIBILITY OF FIRST-FAMILY TIES

``Mick's a quiet lad, a country lad,'' said James Slowey, who runs the hardware store in this village of 520.

To the 89-year-old Slowey, calling the 65-year-old Cassidy a lad is a relative thing. But then again, this whole business is a relative thing. The relative being one William Jefferson Clinton.

Since spring, when the White House confirmed that Clinton would become the first president to visit Northern Ireland, the genealogical industry has knocked itself out trying to find Clinton's ancestors.

Most gene- alogists focused on the family tree of Clinton's mother, whose maiden name was Cassidy. And if you're tracing the Cassidy clan, you eventually come to County Fermanagh, more specifically to Roslea. Just about everybody in Roslea was a Cassidy at one time or another.

The debate is fierce, with various corners of the island wanting to claim Clinton as their own. While none of it is official, something of a consensus has emerged, pegging the unassuming bachelor farmer Mick Cassidy as the president's most likely closest living Irish cousin.

This came as a surprise to Cassidy, who lives a spartan existence on 30 acres of farmland he tends by himself. As he led yet another visitor around the site believed to be the homestead of Lucas Cassidy, thought to be Clinton's great-great-great-great-great-great- grandfather, Mick Cassidy seemed to handle his newfound celebrity well. He is gracious, if not gregarious.

Cassidy said his uncle was the last person to live at the homestead, but that it had been uninhabited for some 30 years. Now he uses it to store hay and shelter cows in winter.

Cassidy confessed to being apolitical, and he is not especially familiar with his famous cousin's politics. He offered a curious defense of Clinton.

``He's as good as any of them,'' he said.

Cassidy gets around by tractor, but usually walks the two miles to the village center for a pint at the Roslea Arms or McCague's.

Oliver McCaffrey, who runs the village heritage center, said it is impossible to verify the familial link between Clinton and the Cassidys, who came from Crockada, one of the village townlands. He said records before the famine of the 1840s are unreliable. But relying on parish records, McCaffrey believes Clinton is descended from Lucas Cassidy, who left the village in 1750 and settled first in South Carolina. He said the family spread out to include Lynches, and that they were prominent during the Civil War, supporting the Confederacy.

Previously, the only thing Roslea was known for to the outside world was the long and bitter dispute between the British army and villagers over the roads that lead into the Irish Republic. The army said the IRA used them to launch attacks on military installations in the area. In a game of cat and mouse, the residents would clear the roads, and the army would block them again. As the cease-fire enters its 16th month, most of those roads are open.

When it comes to Clinton, there is an ambivalence here. Many people are flattered that there is even a suggestion the president of the United States can trace his roots here, but many are terrified at the prospect of their bucolic village being trampled under the crush of a presidential delegation and the international news media.

``I suppose the village will be turned upside down,'' Slowey said ruefully.

Actually, that is most unlikely. White House officials say the president's schedule Thursday, when he visits Northern Ireland, will be extremely tight. Fitting in Roslea would be nearly impossible. Besides, one senior White House official said, no one in the Clinton administration is convinced Mick Cassidy is Bill Clinton's cousin, no matter how many times removed.

If by chance Bill Clinton does show up someday, Mick Cassidy is more than willing to show him around.

``I'd like to meet him,'' he said. ``If he does come, tell him to wear his Wellies. It can get muddy up here.''