Old Photos, Nora Relihan and A Bridge that no one was allowed to cross

Photo; Christopher Burke

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Jill Friedman's North Kerry Photos

I don't know whose  funeral is in the first one is. If you know, tell me. I think I recognise the man in the second photo. He is a fisherman from Finuge.  I have posted the last one before. I think the man with the harmonica is Faulkner.

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Maharees

In those heady days before the lockdown, Marie Moriarty went walking in The Maherees. Here are a few of her photos.

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Nora Relihan as Mena in Sive

Prize giving at Scarriff

Photo; Paul O'Flynn
Nora Relihan played Mena in the original Listowel Amateur Drama Group production of 'Sive'. This production won the all Ireland drama award at the Athlone Drama Festival in 1959. When the play was produced by the Southern Theatre Group in June 1959, Nora Relihan was asked to reprise her role. Eibhlis MacSweeney later replaced Nora Relihan in the role of Mena until the end of the production. This production played in Fr Mathew Hall for 6 weeks, then travelled to the Olympia to play for 4 weeks before touring Munster

(photo and text from Cork County Library local studies section)

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The Forbidden Bridge over the River Feale

In the House of Commons on 1^st April, 1898, Mr. Flavin, M.P., (N. Kerry),  Listowel, Co. Kerry, raised the following issue and asked the following questions of Gerald Balfour, Chief Secretary: 

“I beg to ask the Chief Secretary to the Lord Lieutenant of Ireland,

(1) if he is aware that the Grand Jury of Kerry erected a bridge at a cost of £3,496 10s. over the River Feale, between Duagh and Islandanny, and that three-fourths of the total cost is now repaid out of the public rates to the Commissioners of Public Works (Ireland), but that the general public are not allowed to use the bridge, although it has been completed and maintained for the past seven years; and 

(2), what steps will be now taken to obtain access for the public to pass over the bridge?”

Mr. Gerald Balfour: “I am informed that the facts are correctly stated in the first paragraph. The line of railway from Tralee to Limerick crosses the road or approach, at one side of the bridge, and no proper crossing has been provided by the railway company at this point. The grand jury, moreover, state they have no power to employ a person to look after the gates at what appears to be a farm crossing. I am advised there is no legal provision under which the railway company or the grand jury can be required to provide a crossing, and the Board of Trade inform me they have no power to intervene.”

Mr Flavin, M.P.: “I should like to ask the right hon. Gentleman why the grand jury constructed this bridge—[Mr. SPEAKER: Order, order!] 

Mr. Flavin:  But, Sir, arising out of the question, I should like to know if the right hon. Gentleman is aware that a large number of people in the district are prevented from using this bridge.” 

Mr/ Speaker: “ Order, order! The hon. Member is continuing to argue a question which has already been fully answered.” 

Mr. Flavin: "I wanted to point out, Mr. Speaker-"  

Mr Speaker: “Order, order!” 

It would appear that no-one thought of the need for access to the bridge by those it was intended to carry across the river!  Could the bridge really have stood idle for seven years as a result of such incompetence? 

Portmarnock, Listowel Writers Week 2007 continued, some old news and St. Patrick's Day in times past

Portmarnock Beach in March 2020 during the Covid 19           Photo credit; Eamon ÓMurchú

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Listowel Writers' Week 2007

Mattie Lennon remembers

On Saturday morning that Cork Legend Niall Toibin unveiled a statue to the late John B.Keane in the small square. 

It is at the intersection of Church Street, where John B. was born, and William Street, where he died.

The annual Literary and Historical tour, starting at 2 O’clock, took in Gortaglanna, Knockanure, Moyvane and Lenamore.  Gortaglanna was the scene of a brutal killing by the Black-and-Tans. (Octogenarian songwriter Dan Keane, has written a new version of The Valley of Knocknanure to commemorate the slaughter.)  Moyvane was the birthplace of poet, philosopher and mystic, John Moriarty, whose funeral was on the day of the tour.

Bi-location would have come in handy because An Audience with Melvyn Bragg got under way in the Listowel arms at 2.30, followed by a reading by Liam Browne and Mia Gallagher at 4 O’ clock.

And it would have meant very tight scheduling if one tried to fit in a meeting with author Irvine Welsh at 5 O’clock. His first novel Trainspotting was described as, “ the fastest-selling and most shoplifted novel in British publishing history”.

I missed the lecture by Alain de Botton in Saint John’s Theatre at 6 30. and later Frank Pig says Hello because I was making preparations.

Wait ‘til I tell you.

I have told you before, about when I first became interested in storytelling. It was when my, visually impaired, mother was given a radio by the National Council For The Blind in 1959. Once a week, on The Rambling House, the Seanachai of all Seanachais, Eamon Kelly came into our humble kitchen.

Occasionally, in later years, people who didn’t know any better, would describe me as a storyteller. It must have gone to my head because this year I submitted a story to the International Storytelling Competition dedicated to the memory of the above-mentioned Eamon Kelly.

I got into the final, which was held at 9.30.

Now, no self respecting Seanachai (even one as amateur as yours truly) would be seen without the traditional garb of the Irish storyteller. It’s not the sort of clobber you can purchase in Saville Row or from sartorial purveyors on the high street.

Being a man of modest means, who was doing his small bit to keep the art of storytelling alive, I thought that some native drapery merchant would sponsor my outfit. I approached many but I am sorry to say that not one supplier on the Island of Saints and Scholars donated as much as a bootlace. (I even contacted the County Secretary of the GAA in Wicklow asking for a shirt in the county colours but I wasn’t even granted the courtesy of a refusal. I was ignored.)  But, a number of offshore benefactors came to the rescue.

Photo; Tom Fitzgerald

Because of the nature of my act a number of shirt changes was necessary, but not just any shirt. It had to be a Grandad shirt. Those garments were very kindly sponsored by;

Boden On-line shop (www.boden.co.uk).

Starlight; (www.istabright.co.uk

Ethnic Fashion; www.ethnic-fashion.co.uk

and

Stars; (www.shopatstars.com)

And of course the waistcoat.

A collector of waistcoats who wants to be known only as “The Waistcoatman” (www.thewaistcoatman.org.uk) donated a period waistcoat.

In the past no true Irishman would be seen bareheaded unless he was in bed or in the Church (some of them slept in both places). As the aforementioned Eamon Kelly used to say, “There was respect for the brain then”. The necessary Fedora was provided by Treasured Parts (www.treasuredparts.co.uk) The top half of me was now period.

Men of my father’s era wore a two-and-a-half-inch wide leather belt with a rectangular brass buckle. In the Beano and the Dandy misbehaving juniors were punished with the slipper but in rural Ireland the male parent’s belt was the “correction tool” of choice. My father was a kind man and (apart from the occasional “larrup” on the backs of the legs for severe mischief) I escaped. So, as a tribute to Tim Lennon (no mean story teller himself) long gone to his reward, I decided I would wear an appropriate leather belt on stage. But where would I get one? Susan McKenzie, Director of The Inner Bailey, in Kentucky “gave me a belt”. She can be found at www.theinnerbailey.com

On Sunday I missed a reading by Gisele Scanlon, “Allergic to Beckett”, a  reading by Giles Foden and “A Treasury of Poets”.

Those omissions weren’t through laziness or apathy; I couldn’t miss the Dan Keane children’s poetry event in Finuge This is a poetry competition for children where the next generation of literati are judged by thecritical eye and ear of Dan who was born in 1919. There had been children’s events all week but to my mind this was the highlight. It was an open competition but not surprisingly Kerry schools shone; particularly pupils from Dromclough National School. There is a healthy crop of young poets in the Kingdom.

The Irish Network of Dramatic Arts, from West London, presented Big Maggie, by John B.Keane, in Saint John’s Theatre on Sunday night.

On Monday morning as “the road to Abbeyfeale”  brought me further from the culture capital, I hoped that the Great Creator would leave me here to repeat the experience in 2008.

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ICA in St. Patrick's Day Parades

Máire MacMahon sent us these photos from yesteryears

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Infrastructure Improvements in 1824

(from old newspapers)

Sunday last, Mr. Griffith laid the foundation stone of the new bridge, over the river Feale, which is to be called Wellesley Bridge, in commemoration of the Viceroyship of his present Excellency, to whom the public are solely indebted for so many important works now going on in that hitherto neglected part of the Country. The three first stones that were laid weighed over seven tons. A quantity of whisky was poured on them when they were put down.

The public will be gratified to learn, that the line of Road between Limerick and Tralee, part of which was executed at the private expense of Mr. Rice, of Mount Trenchard, is nearly complete, and that a Mail Coach will be started in August, to run between Limerick and Tralee.- Mr. Rice will be repaid his expenses by the Grand Jury. It is curious to remark, that Mr. Rice excepted a piece of road for 200l. for which a sum of 2,000l. was demanded for by contract.

Supernatural Happenings in Beale, Cleaning up at St. John's and my visit to Mount Lucas

Irish Wildlife Photography Competition Finalist

Peacock butterfly by Dick Glasgow

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A Scary Story From Ballybunion Convent School in Dúchas Collection

Sheila Sheahan 

Beale Middle

Co Kerry

There is a fort in Beale and it is supposed to be the principal resort of the fairies. One day as two men were drawing hay from Slios near Caill na Talmhain, one went through the fields as it was shorter than to go by the road, and his brother drove the horse by the road to Slios. 
As he was passing this fort, a little boy came out of it and ran after the car and sat into it. When they were gone a short distance he offered the man some sweets but he refused to take any. None of them spoke anymore until they arrived in Slios. Again the little boy offered the sweets to the second man who went through the fields. But his brother went behind the little boy's back and grinned at the other man not to take the sweets, because he was about to take them. At this the little boy went into the fort and they saw him no more.

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Tidying Up

This is why Listowel is Ireland's tidiest town. I met Joe Murphy and Liz McAuliffe on the morning after the international drama festival. Despite a long week of hard work and late nights Joe was out with his mop and bucket making sure his posters were clearly readable and Liz was clearing out the old cardboard.

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Bridge in St. Michael's in 1994

A trip down Memory Lane with The Kerryman

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Facing into the Future

My son-in-law works on the Bord na Mona Wind Farms. He recently brought me on a visit to Mount Lucas. I was pleasantly surprised. It was a Saturday so the Park Run had just finished. Mount Lucas was once a bog so the area is now covered in 100% organic trees and other vegetation. It has just grown from seeds that have literally blown in.

Each turbine (they call them towers in Bord na Mona) is massive. I didn't honestly think they looked ugly and they certainly weren't noisy. We could hear the birds singing happily on a lovely sunny summer day.

The visitor centre was not open on Saturday but if you visit on a weekday you can have a tour and see for yourself.

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A Table of Poets

Eileen Sheehan is the writer in residence at The Kerry Writers Museum. I spotted her in the hotel in the  company of some local poets. They had just participated in Eileen's workshop.

Left to right; Barbara Derbyshire, Vincent O'Brien, Eileen Sheehan and Susan Hitching

Here is a poem by Eileen Sheehan I found on the internet. I know someone just like her father. I was in his house last week and the was feeding crows.

Guardian

My father,
a most gentle man,

fed the leavings of the table
to nesting crows
that screamed and whirled
in a nearby stand of trees.

From a branch of sycamore
that overhung
his newly-planted drills,
he suspended
by its gnarled legs
one dead crow;

for weeks
the wind-jigged carcass
swung there
in a crazy parody of flight.

My father,
a most gentle man,

appeasing the dark gods,
their appetite
for sustenance,
for blood.

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Nearly There

It's all hands on deck to get the Square finished in time for the First Holy Communion

The Rubicon has been crossed

Our entrances and our exits will never look the same again. Upgrading work on the big bridge has finished. The new lights are in place but not lit yet. It looks smashing.

The publicans and shopkeepers are gearing up for the big week.

As soon as The Races are over it will be all systems go for Croker. I photographed this lovely green and gold window box display on Charles St. yesterday.

Countdown to The Races

The town is in full bloom. Everywhere is fresh and clean.

Houses are getting their annual facelift.

 Summer attractions like the live theatre in The Seanchaí are drawing to a close.

The road works on the bridge are finishing. My photo shows tarring in progress yesterday.

All of this can only mean one thing. Listowel's Harvest Festival of Racing is upon us. Yipee! and a big céad míle fáilte to all our visitors. May you lose a penny and find a pound.