Roscommon folks star-struck as The Virginian rides into town for his homecoming

JAMES DRURY sat on a stack of turf, pulled out a packet of Pall Malls and lit up as a neighbour joked that The Virginian might set the whole place on fire.

They hadn't actually lit bonfires outside the Drury farmhouse at Derrycough near Boyle, Co Roscommon, but it was the type of homecoming many misty-eyed "yanks" might yearn for.

Long before the black stretch limo purred up the narrow country lane past the lush green meadows to the white two-storey house overlooking Lough Gara, the balloons and the bunting had been hung (alongside two Stetson hats one of the cousins bought at a recent Meat Loaf concert), the turkey had been cooked and several generations of the Drury family from Co Roscommon had gathered in the sunshine to form an enthusiastic welcoming party.

James Drury is 74 now, he walks with a limp and, according to his doting Irish relations, is in a lot of pain due to sciatica. But as he sat in the front parlour chatting enthusiastically about what made The Virginianone of the most popular western dramas on television in history and the joys of working alongside people such as Elvis - "a very nice young man, I played one of his older brothers in Love Me Tender" - his audience was charmed.

The actor's grandfather, James Drury, had been born and lived in this house until he emigrated in about 1890, leaving a brother, Tom, at home on the farm.

Tom's children, Vincent and Ann, live there still and they and their sisters, Claire and Madeline, were delighted with the actor's interest in "Vincent's ranch", as he explained that he had been brought up in a very similar landscape in Oregon.

The family has a letter their father received in 1920 from his emigrant brother, an attorney, and an enthusiastic fundraiser for the "Irish cause". In the letter he chides Tom for being in the RIC, remarking that he himself would "rather die of starvation and suffer 10,000 deaths than help that dirty foreign crew to keep my countrymen in subjection".

Before arriving at the house the actor had visited nearby Killaraght cemetery, and as he took off his Stetson and bowed his head at the grave of his grand-uncle Tom, he remarked: "I can't tell you how emotional I am seeing all this."

He graciously waved away apologies from well-wishers and photographers who apologised for intruding on what might have been a very personal moment. "I am delighted. I haven't had so much attention in 40 years."

Everyone was calling him The Virginian to avoid confusion with his grandfather and father, also called James. Far from being exasperated at the typecasting, he professed it an honour while admitting that "it boggles the mind" that people in Ireland still sit down at one o'clock every day to watch it.

It probably also boggled the mind when he saw that publican Seán Flanagan had tethered two horses outside the family's local, the Saddlers Inn in Kingsland, before he dropped in. There was a more conventional welcoming party at Boyle, where the local marching band waited with a large crowd to greet him at the Royal Hotel where he launched the Back to Boyle weekend, a celebration for returning emigrants.

"I expected some attention - I kind of expected the family to turn out - but nothing like this," said the bewildered star. Drury flies home to the US tomorrow but in true Hollywood fashion he promised: "I'll be back."