Listowel Celtic, The Case of the Black Pudding and will the next US ambassador be a Corkman?

Photo: Donal Murphy, Mallow Camera Club

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Reliving a memory with Listowel Celtic

These photos from Listowel Celtic's Facebook page are from the official opening of the soccer playing field at Tannavalla. May all of those who were part of the occasion and are gone from us rest in peace.

The late Jack Carmody (The Sherriff) with his family.

John Delaney with club chair, Aiden OConnor and Beatrice and Jack Carmody

Some great club stalwarts.

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The Council of Dirha by John B. Keane continued from yesterday

.........However, this is another matter. It is with the pre Pope Paul period of fast and abstinence that I propose to deal now. Before I do, let me say that fireside theology was reduced to a very fine art in those days. There was no opposition from television and the country was far from motorized. Consequently there was genuine profundity in most fireside exchanges. The subtler arts of sarcasm, irony and cynicism all flourished and were brought to such a degree of excellence by common country folk that ordinary comment was almost totally outlawed.

The first serious council held by hobside theologians to which I was a witness was held in Dirha Bog circa 1935. So great was the fear of excommunication in those distant days that even today I am not at liberty to mention the name of the house owner. The council was well attended and present at the time were such venerable sages as the late Sonny Canavan and Jack Duggan. The main spokesman was a spailpín by the name of Billy Drury, brother of the poet, Paddy. The main item on the agenda on that memorable occasion was whether the consumption of black puddings on a Friday constituted a breach of the laws of fast and abstinence. Pork steak and puddings were a common enough diet at the time. Every countryman kept his own pig and when the creature was fat enough to be butchered substantial quantities of pork steak and home filled black puddings were distributed among the neighbours.

It was universally accepted even amongst the most extreme heretics and schismatics that under no cicumstances was the eating of pork steak to be countenanced on a Friday or any other days of fast and abstinence. Puddings, however were a different kettle of fish altogether. If I might be permitted to the use of a widely used saying at the time, “there were puddings and puddings.”  It was with this aspect of the matter that the Dirha theologians concerned themselves. When is a black pudding not a black pudding or, to put it another way, what are the chief characteristics of a sinful pudding?

more tomorrow 

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The Next U.S. Ambassador to Ireland ?

Ohio businessman Ed Crawford has emerged as the front-runner to become the next US ambassador to Ireland. 

A long-time Republican party donor, Mr Crawford is the chairman of Park-Ohio Holdings, a Nasdaq-listed manufacturing and supply-chain company which has operations across the world, including in Cork. 

He was the finance chairman for the Republican National Committee’s Ohio campaign during last year’s presidential race, and was an early supporter of Donald Trump. 

Mr Crawford, whose grandparents came from Co Cork, has also been centrally involved in the Irish community in Cleveland, hosting the then taoiseach Enda Kenny at an event to mark the rededication of the Irish Cultural Garden in the city in 2012. 

His emergence as the top candidate to become the next US ambassador comes after Brian Burns, a Florida businessman and friend of Mr Trump, withdrew from consideration for the post.

I read the above in The Irish Times and I decided that the next time I passed through Newmarket, I'd stop for a look around and see how this man's ancestral place was doing now.

Newmarket is a neighbouring town to my own Kanturk and , apart from the old tribal rivalries of the G.A.A. Newmarket people were friends.

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Listowel Boy Scouts and Leaders

Photo from Mike Hannon from the John Hannon archive.
This looks like a St. Patrick's Day parade passing through Main Street. I'm guessing the 1970s because the Spinning Wheel is where Footprints is now. I could hazard a guess at some of these men and ladies  but, for fear of mistakes, I'll let it up to you. Tell me if you recognise yourself.

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Sam In O'Connell's Avenue

The man on the far left is Tom Sweeney, a man whose family is steeped in football. The others are Tom Lyons, Mick Carey and Gigs Nolan R.I.P.

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One for the diary

On Sunday next, April 22 2018 Kay Moloney, formerly of Gurtinard House, Listowel will give a talk in The Seanchaí at 7.00p.m.

The subject of her talk will be an incident that was very significant in the history of Listowel.

One hundred years ago a group of local men ploughed up Lord Listowel's lawn.

Who were these men?

Why did they convert Lord Listowel's lawn into a tillage feld?

What were the consequences? 

These questions will be answered by Kay on Sunday evening and the answers might surprise you.

You won't want to miss this one.

Listowel Boy Scouts in the 1980s, Primary School girls in 1985 and Fr. Pat Moore ceremony in May 2017

The Square 

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Charles St. May 2017

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Listowel Boy Scouts circa 1984

The photo was taken in the hall at Scoil Realta na Maidine.

James Scanlon who gave me the photo supplied names as best he could remember;

Back row: ?  , Frank Greaney, Christy Walsh, ? , a scout leader from Castleisland who came for the ceremony, Gerard MacGuinness, Garda John ?, Don Keane, Kieran ?, Weeshie Diarmaid ?

2nd. Row; Seamus Daly, Mike Greaney, Michael When, John MacAulliffe, Donny O'Connell, Christopher Hennessey R.I.P., Joseph ORegan

Front Row: Ian ?,  ?  John Healy, Stephen Dunne, ?, ?, Frank Quilter, John Galvin, James Scanlon

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1985

Marguerite Wixted found this one.

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The Cuckoo

Following my inclusion last week of an extract by John B. Keane about the cuckoo, many people have told me that they never saw a cuckoo and wondered what he looked like.
Wonder no more.

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Remembering Fr. Pat with song and candles

On May 11 2017 we gathered on the beach in Ballybunion to support one another in our grief and loss for a larger than life priest, Fr. Pat Moore.

As we looked to our right, there was the hard working Mario paying his own tribute in the way he does best, a piece of sand art.

Christine Kennelly got this good picture from the cliff.

Karen Trench sang The Boys of Barr na Sráide, one of Fr. Pat's favourites.

Listen to it HERE

We held our candles and thought of the man who would so loved to have been there.

His former parishioners, all of whom remembered him with great fondness came from all corners of the county and farther afield.

Trish and Donie were helping to organise the ceremony. They had both offered Fr. Pat  much comfort and healing during his illness.

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RTE Folk indentified

This is a photo from Photos of Dublin on Facebook. I got a few of the names wrong when I posted it before.

Máire Logue tells me  that beside Jerry Ryan is Jimmy Greally at the back and the lady I didn't know in front beside Fab Vinnie is Flo McSweeney

Listowel Boy Scouts, Happy Visits to Athea Remembered and Kissane Candles

Scouts at the Convent

photo: Mike Hannon

I posted this photo last week with the thought that it might have been taken during the big scout jamboree in the 1940s.
Vincent Carmody tells me that it was more likely taken to celebrate the centenary of the the convent in 1944. The bunting would seen to support that.
Anyone know any of the scouts or remember the occasion?

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My First Visit to Ireland Winning essay

Irish Central is a website very popular with Irish American people. Recently the site ran a writing competition. The task was to write an account of your first visit to Ireland. The competition was won by Rosemary Griffin and her visit was to her father's family in Athea, Co. Limerick.

Here are the photographs Rosemary sent to Irish Central to accompany her story and below is the winning essay.

My First Trip to Ireland by Rosemary Griffin

These are some of my earliest memories.  The smell of the turf fire, the sound of the stream, the overwhelming warmth and familiarity of people I had never met…  

It was the summer of 1968 and my Irish-born father and Irish-American mother packed up my 6 year-old brother, my two-year old sister and my three-year old self to spend the summer with my Dad’s family in Athea, County Limerick.  He hadn’t been home in seven years, and this was the first time his family would meet us.  My mom changed us into pajamas as we crossed the Atlantic, and I woke up to the most glorious view of Galway Bay.

It is hard now to wrap my head around what a different place the Ireland of 1968 was.  We took our baths in a steel tub by the fire.  We watched my uncle herd cows and milk them by hand.  We took turns riding the donkey in the front yard.  And we ate chicken for the dinner that had laid the eggs we ate for breakfast!

The very first day we arrived my sister bolted out of the car and, as she ran excitedly, fell into the well at the bottom of the stream that ran alongside my father’s home house.  Later we learned that the milk (and other adult beverages!) would be floated in the stream to keep them cold with the lack of indoor electricity.  The day my sister fell into the “refrigerator” is a highlight of family lore to this day.

 Later that first week we went into town to buy the Wellingtons that everyone told us would be necessary to truly enjoy the fields for the summer.  I had seen the big, black rubber boots and was not impressed.  But the moment I laid eyes on that bright blue pair in just my size I was hooked!  My brother and sister and I ran and splashed and jumped and climbed with our cousins for six weeks.  They had to pry those blue wellies off my feet to get me back on the plane to New York.  

But what I remember most is the constant flow of family, friends and neighbors.  I remember the sound of the music and the taste of the Taytos as we all went to the pub on a Sunday afternoon.  I remember my grandmother making fresh bread each and every day.  I remember the burlap bag that my grandfather filled with turf and let me pretend to carry.  And I remember the joy of seeing my father with those he had left.

Sometimes I wonder whether my memories are real or sparked by the small, square, date-stamped photos that were taken to describe our summer to friends and family back home.  I’ve been back 18 times and Ireland today is, of course, a very different place.  I am not one who idealizes the past.  The Irish cousins who taught me to run through the fields are grown-up friends who have all not only been to visit us in New York but also have traveled the globe.  I don’t need the wellies or the turf fire or the cows to remind me.  Although I no longer change into pajamas, I know when I see Galway Bay that the memories are real.  I think I knew then that Ireland was not just a place.  It was – and is - a part of me.

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Kissane Candles

We're planning a wedding in our house and let me tell you that Listowel is one of the very best places to do this job. Absolutely everything can be sourced locally, everyone in the business is really professional and helpful and makes the whole experience a joy. I'm absolutely banned from revealing any details before the big day but I can give a sneak peak today at one little trip we took in the pre wedding trail.

We met Joe Kissane in his candle shop in Tarbert. He has met every kind of bride and bridezilla and he is infinitely patient. You can ask him to pull out every candle in the shop and he wouldn't complain. Drawing on  his vast experience in the business,  he was full of helpful suggestions and advice.
I am documenting the whole process in photographs so look out for our experience of Finesse Bridal, Listowel Arms Hotel, St. Mary's, Bailey and Co., MK Beauty, McAuliffe Flowers, Listowel Printing Works and more local people in due course.