Monday, 30 November 2020

Fathers, Abbeyfeale, Boyle Sports moves House and a Different Kind of Thanksgiving

A Christmas Window


Danny's window in Main Street Listowel in November 2020

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Seeing Double


For a short while there are two Boyle Sports Betting Shops on William Street. This business  is relocating three doors down.


The old


The new

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Abbeyfeale Bridge 


Photo submitted to Glin Historical Society by Cathleen Mulvihill.

The bridge looks pretty much the same today.

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Wait 'til Your Father Gets Home.

I am old enough to remember when a father's role was very different to what it is today. Fathers in the 1940s and 50's were the breadwinners. Their role was to go out to work every day to earn enough to feed, house  and clothe their families. They were often remote and forbidding figures in their children's lives.

As well as breadwinner the father was expected to be the disciplinarian. He was the authority figure whose word was law in the home.  Discipline often took the form of corporal punishment. This role did not suit every man and they often did it with a heavy heart. 

Read this;

The Toys

My little Son, who look'd from thoughtful eyes
And moved and spoke in quiet grown-up wise,
Having my law the seventh time disobey'd,
I struck him, and dismiss'd
With hard words and unkiss'd,
His Mother, who was patient, being dead.
Then, fearing lest his grief should hinder sleep,
I visited his bed,
But found him slumbering deep,
With darken'd eyelids, and their lashes yet
From his late sobbing wet.
And I, with moan,
Kissing away his tears, left others of my own;
For, on a table drawn beside his head,
He had put, within his reach,
A box of counters and a red-vein'd stone,
A piece of glass abraded by the beach
And six or seven shells,
A bottle with bluebells
And two French copper coins, ranged there with careful art,
To comfort his sad heart.
So when that night I pray'd
To God, I wept, and said:
Ah, when at last we lie with tranced breath,
Not vexing Thee in death,
And Thou rememberest of what toys
We made our joys,
How weakly understood
Thy great commanded good,
Then, fatherly not less
Than I whom Thou hast moulded from the clay,
Thou'lt leave Thy wrath, and say,
"I will be sorry for their childishness."

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Thanksgiving 2020

Thanksgiving is one of the biggest festivals of the year for our U.S. friends. I like the idea behind it. There are no presents or crass commercialism, just all the family giving thanks. I know it has been commercialised over the years but the basic idea is the same. Gratitude is the attitude.
This year because off the huge rise in Covid cases, people were asked to stay home and stay safe.
One friend of this blog, John Anthony Hegarty told us how he obeyed the guidelines.

 Hi Mary.
> Here in NY the temp was around 60F or  15C for thanksgiving, this year for us it was just immediate family my wife Leslie, our son Thomas and his girlfriend Shannon.
> We had an outside thanksgiving using a pop up tent as a place to sit and and eat the meal and we also had a fire pit.
> My wife Leslie did a zoom call with her sisters/mother in Florida and her other sister in California.We are from two different households we did our best to follow the C.D.C guidelines .All the best stay safe

> Unfortunately the photos from IPad came out very  dark, much darker than it actually was at the time, maybe the next IPad will have a flash.




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Apologies to the Red Cross Crew


When I posted this photo last week I said it was taken in 1940's. Vincent Carmody tells me that it was taken in The Listowel Arms in 1962. He should know because he is in the photo, far left with glasses.
Vincent doesn't think the man with the buttonhole is Dr. Buckley. The man beside Fr. Dillon is Mike Sheehy, one of the Sheehy brothers of Main Street who I also wrote about last week. The man on the far right is Timmy Leahy. The two men half hidden at the far right in the 4th row are Michael O'Connor  and possibly Michael O'Neill. 
Behind Vincent is  Pat McAuliffe  

Friday, 27 November 2020

Sheehy's of Main Street and the U.S., Red Cross in the 1940s

 It's Beginning to Look a Lot like Christmas in Listowel


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1916 Memorial Garden with Dandy Lodge in the background.

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From an Old Paper

New York NY Irish American Advocate 

April 1917 

On Wednesday at the Cathedral, Killarney. Miss Ellie Aimes Griffin the daughter of Mr. Daniel Griffin, Dingle, was married to Mr. Michael Griffin. N.T., Listowel. The ceremony was performed by the Revd. James Kennedy, first cousin of the bride, assisted by the Revd. J. Griffin, Dingle. The bride is a first cousin of the late Thomas Ashe.


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Where it all began




When I pass this seat in Childers Park I say a prayer for the three brothers commemorated there. Without John Sheehy there would be no Listowel Connection for it was he who first encouraged me to become a town chronicler.


It started with a Listowel forum on  Boards.ie. The forum is still there. I checked. People are still posting there. It was a place to chat about all things Listowel.

I joined the forum in 2005 and there I met John Sheehy as Sandhill Road. We all had nicknames on the forum. I was Cherrytree. John and I chatted on the forum and by email off it. He encouraged me to keep posting my photographs and the Sunday parish newsletter. If I was out and about with my camera I would take a photo and post it. If I ran into John's twin brother Jerry, I had to be sure to take that one. Over time, Martin and Mike also joined the thread and in time I met them in person on some of their very frequent visits 'home'.


When I started the blog in 2011, I contributed less to Boards. (According the Boards stats I posted 339 times in all)

I was so excited about my new venture that I took to promoting it on Boards and posting a link to my latest blogpost. Big mistake! Boards forums have a moderator to enforce their rules. One of these rules is that you may not drive traffic away from the forum. I was doing this by posting a link to my blog. Consequently the moderator threw me off the thread, booted me out, suspended me indefinitely. John interceded on  my behalf to no avail. You break the rules at your peril with this moderator.


Since then I've put my ignominious exit from Boards behind me. All three Sheehy brothers whom I met there have passed away Every time I pass their seat I am reminded of them and their great love for Listowel  which would now be more welcoming for them than ever before. May they rest in peace.



This lovely old photo is of the Sheehy twins, John and Jerry in 1952. It was taken in Main Street outside their family shop (now Morkan Jewellers)


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Listowel Branch of the Irish Red Cross


Máire MacMahon sent us this photo of a Red Cross Social in the 1940s. Máire found it among her aunt Máirín MacMahon's papers. Recently Éamon ÓMurchú brightened it for us, so the people are easier to identify.
When I printed it first in 2018 Margaret Dillon gave us some of the names


Sitting :......., Mona or Phil Duggan,...,.....Kennelly...., Maureen MacMahon, Clementine Crowley,...,.....,Kit Medell , Mai Kathleen O'Sullivan

1st. Row standing: Man in uniform?  Dr. Johnny Walshe,  Dr. Buckley,  Canon Peter O'Sullivan, Canon Wallace, Fr. Gerard Dillon, ...., .....,Helen Mc Elligott, Marie Stack Grimes,   Mr. Leahy (Eamon thinks this may be Michael Relihan)

3rd. Row: Vincent Carmody,...., Hillary Nielson,....., Mrs. Walshe,  ........, Christy Keogh, ......, ......., Louis Murphy,.....,......, Anne (Nash) Wixted,.........,.........., ...........


Back Row;............


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 from Ciarán Sheehan on Facebook

Fort Shannon, Ballyhoolahan, Glin (on the road to Tarbert facing the Shannon). My father Charles Sheehan’s home in the 40’s and 50’s after his mother May (Hennessy) passed on Upper William Street in Listowel in the late 40’s and my uncle Maurice and aunt Lily (Hayes) Sheehan’s home and farm from the 40’s through the 90’s. Many fond memories. I often think my career as an actor and singer began here listening to my uncle Maurice serenade his cows as he and aunt Lily milked them by hand.
The house is often featured in university architectural programs around the world.

Thursday, 26 November 2020

St. Brendan's Terrace, Shopping in the great outdoors, Wartime Nurses and a Tipp Pig

St. Brendan's Terrace, Listowel in November 2020



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Ballybunion In the 1900s

All photos from Cathleen Mulvihill on Facebook


Ballybunion castle and the old Protestant church



Main Street



Pattern Day August 15th.

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Outdoor Displays of Shop Wares

In Listowel town Square in November 2020


I mentioned here last week that more and more shops are finding ways to display their wares in a Covid deterring fashion. The story evoked a few old stories for Nicholas Leonard.

Mary, your articles are great for awakening old memories! And not only of Listowel! The foot-path display of wares and comestibles could have a down side- especially where food items were concerned. My perambulations around town and city in a previous occupation included those in Cork City and your old bailiwick, Kanturk. Of course, one saw almost everything that took place by night and day. In Kanturk, especially in The Square, where vegetables, cabbage plants, etc., were sold weekly, almost everything was laid on the ground. The same could be said for a few of the shops.

One rather unappetising view was of the town dog(s) raising a leg and ’baptising’ a bag of spuds- or other vegetables. Such atavistic territorial marking resulted in my vegetables being purchased only in shops which did not expose its edible goods at dog-leg level. Great credit to the Listowel shopkeeper you pictured with the spuds on the window-sill!



 

Another sight that I marvelled at in Cork City in the 70s was the early morning delivery of fish, flapping-fresh from the trawlers, to the English Market. The crates were left on the pavement outside the gates of the closed Market. With ne'er a soul about, save a few benighted shades, and many cats, abandoned, stray, feral-ex-pedigree, and the honest, humble moggie-mouser, (Moggie once referred to a mouse, but cats’ interests in mice earned them the same nick-name)  gathered in dozens around the crates- drawn by the scent of the salt-sea food. Hordes of cats dashed hither and thither to and from the crates of pungent food. Despite scratching, biting, twisting and clawing, the fish were not easily prised from the well-made crates. 

Occasionally, a crate might be damaged in transit. What fish that were sufficiently exposed were quickly extricated- and then the battle began. Teeth were bared; fur and fish-scales were flying! Hissing, spitting, and sharp claws flashing! No notice was taken of the watching humans, who, of course, thought better of intervening in the feline fracas.  After all, as Abe Lincoln said:  “No matter how much cats fight, there always seem to be plenty of kittens.”

Eventually, calm and daylight descended and with no more fish to be had, cats scattered up and down the hills and valleys of Cork City. On the morrow, they would assemble once more- the reliable 'early customers' of the ancient English Market, once more with a ‘fighting chance’ of securing a free and tasty morning meal. 

Strange to say, even though there was a pack of stray dogs roaming the city in those days, they never bothered the cats, nor showed much interest in the fish. The same dogs would brook no interference from humans, as I found out pretty smartly on one occasion! The dogs ignored passers-by, unless they tried to shift the dogs from the footpath. Their pack leader  bared its teeth and the others reacted similarly.   A vicious chorus of snarling and growling ensued. A united stand was made by the pack, and they prevailed.  Ar scáth a chéile a mhaireann na madraí!

P.S. Is ‘hither’ still used in North Kerry?  In Abbeyfeale, the word used still is ‘hether,’ which came into use in the 1600s (a version of a previous Old English word, ‘hider’); in the 1700s it became ‘hither,’ and now is ‘here.’ The phrase ‘come-hither’ is pronounced here as ‘Come-edder.’ Many will remember ‘hither ’from the lines, (approx.):“Come hither! Come hither! My little daughter, and do not tremble so; for I can weather the roughest storm that ever wind did blow...” – the famous last words of the Captain of the Schooner ‘Hesperus.’

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 Queen Alexandra's Imperial Military Nursing Service traces its history back to Florence Nightingale. In time of war, just as civilian men were recruited and made into soldiers in warp time, young women were hastily trained in the basics of nursing and pressed into service to treat the wounded.

At the outbreak of World War 1 , there were fewer than 300 nurses in the military nursing corps. Four years later there were 10,000. A memorial to 18 Irish nurses who lost their lives  can be found in St. Anne's Cathedral, Belfast.

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A Tipp Pig in Mallow

I shared this Twitter story yesterday that the Tipp team in 1920 bought a pig in Mallow on their way home after beating Kerry in Killarney.  It seemed a bit unlikely.

It peaked the interest of two blog followers;

Nicholas Leonard writes I wonder was the game played on a Sunday? Mallow Fairs were held as follows in olden days (c.1883):

   MALLOW—1 Tuesday each month; 1 Jan, Shreve Mon, 13 May, 27 July, 30 Oct.  Pig fairs 1st Mon, every month.Market Days—Tuesday and Friday. (from 'Ireland Old News.').

That might suit a team returning home after a game on the Sunday?

Vincent Carmody thinks that the story is unlikely to be true.

In my opinion the story of the pig is false, however  I'll tell you what is true, Kerry beat Cork in the Munster semi-final played in Cork on June 20th 1920 on the score of 2-6 to 0-4.
The 1920 was not played (due to the political situation of the time) until April 9th 1922. It was played in Cork and as you know Tipperary won, defeating Kerry by 2-2 to 0-2.
Tipperary then went on to defeat Mayo in the All Ireland semi-final in which
they defeated Dublin on the June 11th 1922 on a score of 1-6 to 0-2.
What I find amazing is that this year, 100 years after 1920 that the exact same teams are their own provincial winners and the same counties are once again facing each other in the semi-finals. Its eerie, stars align but someone, somewhere up there must have put a lot of thinking into it.
Whatever about Dublin and Mayo, they would have been many people's fancies this year, however
I would wager that if you mentioned Tipp and Cavan to come out of Munster and Ulster to a bookie he would ask and give you whatever price you would ask for, and saying behind your back that you should be put away.

Wednesday, 25 November 2020

Dandy Lodge, Kilmorna, Rudyard Kipling and Jim Walshe R.I.P.



Dandy Lodge in Childers Park, Listowel in November 2020


In this 1903 picture of  Bridge Road in the National Library Collection, the Dandy Lodge is visible  in its original location on the left looking towards town.

In October 1989  the Dandy Lodge was demolished and rebuilt in Childers' Park. Denis Carroll videod the move and uploaded it to youtube. Here is the link;


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Kilmorna House Remembered



Below are a few extracts from a great supplement on Kilmorna House written by Tom Dillon in Kerry's Eye a few weeks ago. In its heyday this North Kerry mansion was an Irish Downton Abbey.






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My Boy Jack


Rudyard Kipling's son John went "missing in action" in 1915. His heartbroken father spent the next 4 years searching for him. He was never found. He was 18 years old.

Kipling never said that this poem is about his son but I think most people know better.


My Boy Jack (1915)

Rudyard Kipling


“Have you news of my boy Jack? ”

Not this tide.

“When d’you think that he’ll come back?”

Not with this wind blowing, and this tide


“Has any one else had word of him?”

Not this tide.

For what is sunk will hardly swim,

Not with this wind blowing, and this tide.


“Oh, dear, what comfort can I find?”

None this tide,

Nor any tide,

Except he did not shame his kind—

Not even with that wind blowing, and that tide.


Then hold your head up all the more,

This tide,

And every tide;

Because he was the son you bore,

And gave to that wind blowing and that tide!


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Irish migrant was champion of rail workers

October 16, 2020 


When Julie Evans, who is a loyal friend to this blog, saw the following story in her Sydney Morning Post, she knew just the place to share it. The late Jim Walshe was a well  known figure throughout Australia. Thank you, Julie, for sharing this obituary with us.


JIM WALSHE: 1931-2020

Jim Walshe, rail unionist, Labor activist and superannuation reformer was born in Ballybunion in County Kerry, Ireland, a resort town known for its picturesque sand dunes and, in his early years, the rural poverty of Depression-era, newly independent Ireland.




Jim Walshe was awarded the Medal of the Order of Australia.

He was a young caddie at the golf club, left school at age 14 to work for a local hotel in the summer months, and then moved with his mother to England and to the railways as a porter. His Scottish stepfather was active in the UK National Union of Railworkers.


Interested in self-improvement, young Jimmy did correspondence courses through the National Council of Labor Colleges and in photography with the YMCA. Then based at Harrow-on-the-Hill, west London, he quipped that he was an old Harrovian (a reference to the nearby upmarket Harrow School) even though his education was at the railway station. He sometimes attended union meetings and his mother was very pro-Labour.


In the early 1950s, Walshe heard from school friends that Australia had full employment and was worth checking out. He migrated in 1951 and fell in love with the country. His first job was as a builders’ labourer (“too much hard work”) then he tried his hand for a few months as a tram guard, on the North Bondi to the City run before joining the railways.




Secretary of NSW Branch of ARU Jim Walshe (right) and Harold Dwyer lobbying for an inquiry into a rail crash. March 3, 1983. CREDIT:FAIRFAX


First he was at Central station then St James as a porter (later called station assistants) and went from there to Darling Harbour as a shunter and Goulburn as a guard. He remembers near-death experiences working as a shunter, changing gears on the rail tracks.


From Goulburn the job was running trains down to the snow country, Cooma to Junee, up to Sydney, where he said: “We had to tolerate some terrible conditions both on the trains and in the barracks in which we were required to sleep during shifts.”


Walshe became an Australian Railways Union (ARU) delegate and for seven years was the honorary assistant secretary of the Goulburn branch, then a thriving railway town. Improvements, bit by bit, in the dignity of workers was what he strove for. For example, a campaign for gloves for the shunters who in the winter months had to operate freezing cold steel hand brakes.


He became a member of the ALP in the mid-1950s at a time when the Left hoped to take over the NSW Branch of the ARU, with the Labor party in turmoil over Herbert Evatt’s leadership. Walshe decided to support the Lloyd Ross-led ARU, moderate Labor, and in opposition to the far Left, the breakaway Democratic Labor Party.


In 1959 the northern organiser of the ARU died. Although from another part of the state, encouraged by Southern Organiser Bill O’Neill, Walshe applied for the position. Each of the six candidates spoke for three to five minutes on their interests and background, Walshe indicating his support for continuing education and industrial issues. He overwhelmingly won the vote of the branch council, including most of the Left delegates.


Not for the first time, a lilting Irish accent, a gregarious demeanour, a bright sense of humour, and a righteous, though measured passion stood him in good stead.


His “parish” extended from Gosford in the south, to south Brisbane in the north, to Wallangarra in the north west, and to the branch lines from Moree.


Although his politics were moderate Labor, Walshe appealed to many in the Left, and indeed across the political spectrum, as thoughtful and as respectful of alternative viewpoints. Catholic, though never sectarian, he loved Celtic culture, Scottish and Irish. In 1961 he married Rosette with Catholic rites. His sons, Hamish and Fergus, were given gaelic names.


From the early 1960s to 1971, for one week a month he worked at the Sydney ARU headquarters at Eveleigh.


In 1969, with Lloyd Ross’ imminent retirement as union secretary, a divided NSW ARU membership resoundedly elected Jack Maddox as Secretary and Bob Bailey as President. Walshe was approached by Left and Right to join their ticket but he supported Maddox, and from January 1971 worked full-time in Sydney as ARU traffic industrial officer.


The Chief Commissioner for Railways from 1956-1972, Neal McCusker CBE, ruled the roost at a time of significant technological change, replacing steam locomotives (and their infrastructure and work practices) with diesel and electric locomotives.


The NSW Labor Minister for Transport from 1960-65, John McMahon, almost never met ARU delegates or visited workplaces. With a change of government in 1965, under the Askin government, the Liberal Minister, Milton Morris was unafraid to visit rail members on the job: “he spoke to them as man to man and I wept” Walshe said.


In 1976, when Walshe became President, he considered giving up golf to allow more time for the extra responsibilities. Norm Garvey, a leading light in the union, resolutely said “no you won’t. You’ll continue to play golf every Saturday. You’re going to be under a lot of stress in this job and when you’re concentrating on that ball you won’t be thinking about anything else”. Walshe would later reflect that it was perhaps the best advice he received.


Maddox retired in 1981 and, pending a ballot of members, Walshe was appointed Secretary. An election that year took place with Walshe defeating rivals in a vote of all members. Harold Dwyer was elected President.


Industrially, rates of pay went up. Conditions on the job such as meal rooms, uniforms and brake-van conditions improved. Though there was a reduction in the work force through natural attrition.




State Secretary of the ARU Jim Walshe, beseiged by media after his members voted to stay out on strike at a meeting held at Parramatta Town Hall. February 17, 1982. CREDIT: FAIRFAX


Under the Labor government of Neville Wran, the union and Walshe got on well with Minister Peter Cox but under State Rail Authority CEO from 1982-87, David Hill, there were tensions, industrial conflicts, and strikes.


After one bruising confrontation in 1984, a two-and-a-half hour meeting was held with Premier Wran. Throughout the negotiations, the Premier took a coin out of his pocket and started tossing. Walshe said: “Look, Premier, the problem … is that we’re not going to tolerate redundancies in the railway.” Wran responded: “I can’t put it on paper, I will give you a guarantee that during the term of my government, there will be no redundancies in the railway.” Walshe ended the dispute when he agreed: “I’m prepared to accept that.”


It was a different story, however, under the Greiner and Fahey governments, though the government mostly facilitated voluntary redundancies and considered the union mostly reasonable in pitching its demands. But with a drastic reduction in services, closures of country services, outsourcing, and significant reductions in the workforce, conflicts were inevitable.

Among many legacies are the formation of the Australian Rail Tram and Bus Industry Union in 1993. Walshe with others initiated the amalgamations of unions in a historically divided industry. Perhaps one of his most difficult negotiations, he believed so strongly in the need for the amalgamation that he planned his retirement to allow the enlarged union to commence with new leadership.


He served as a delegate to Labor council of NSW from the early 1970s, he was elected a Vice President in 1984 and served as a member of the ACTU Executive from NSW from 1985 to 1989.


In the Australia Day 1988 Honours list, he was awarded the Medal of the Order of Australia for services to the trade union movement.


He took early retirement in 1992 and as a resident of Matraville for nearly five decades was a well-known member of the St Michaels Golf Club at Little Bay. He joined with other “old-timers” in 1989 to defend a takeover of the club that sought to convert it to an exclusive resort; a proposal that was anathema to the founders’ vision. They managed to muster enough members to attend in person to cast a blocking vote, albeit a narrow victory. A second vote shortly afterwards increased the block.


He was predeceased by Rosette in 1999. He was father and father-in-law of Hamish and Linda, Fergus and Veronika and brother of David and Chris (deceased).


Fergus Walshe with Michael Easson