Listowel Connection: Tim Kennelly Roundabout

Friday, 9 February 2018

Listowel Town Park, a walking race and some more from the Sive archive

Greenfinch

Photo; Graham Davies on Facebook

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In The Park, Winter 2018

The gas pipeline in a very wet town park.

The river rose much higher in the days after I took this photo.

Listowel Community Centre

Deserted tennis courts

Empty playgrounds

Blown down sign

Bleak house....The Dandy Lodge in the background. 1916 commemorative garden in foreground.

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Mad Speed Limit at Tim Kennelly Roundabout

Would you head into a roundabout at 60km per hour?

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Wren Boys and Tarbert to Listowel walking race

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Sive Revisited

When The Abbey Theatre produced Sive in 2014, some kind friends of the blog shared some of their memorabilia with us.

Kay Caball whose mother was the chair of the Drama Group kept the programme and some of the newspaper cuttings.

Margaret Dillon, who played Sive sent us this photograph of the cast visit to Dáil Eireann where Dan Moloney, T.D. received them and took them on a guided triumphal tour.

Kay Caball gave us the names of all the people in this photo.

Front Row From Left:

Jeffrey O’Connnor (Cahirciveen, Sheila Keane’s Husband)

Brendan Carroll (Carroll's, William St)

Margaret Dillon (She played Sive)

John B. Keane

Cecile Cotter (‘Tasty Cotter’s’ daughter – Scully’s Corner used to be called Cotter’s Corner)

Nora Relihan

Dan Moloney T.D., (grandfather of Jimmy Moloney)

Second Row Left to Right

John Cahill, (Main St.,)

Hilary Neilsen, (Bridge Road)

Siobhan Cahill (Main St.)

Bill Kearney (Lr. William St. – where The Shebeen is now)

Harry Geraghty (Bank of Ireland or maybe National Bank?)

Eamon Keane

Mrs. Peggie Walsh ( The Square)

Back Row, Left to Right

John Flaherty (Charles St)

Margaret Moloney (Gurtinard)

Kevin Donovan (Upper William St)

Seamus Ryle (Nora Relihan’s brother)

Ina Leahy (Leahys, Market St)

Dr. Johnny Walsh

Peg Schuster (John B’s sister)

Monday, 13 February 2017

Horsefairs, Tim Kennelly Roundabout and North Kerry Tyre Centre

Co. Cork sparrow ; photo TJ MacSweeney

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Listowel HorseFairs

THE FAIR

By Delia O’Sullivan in Striking a Chord

The big fair day in Listowel, the October fair, was the topic of conversation among the farmers for weeks afterwards. Exaggerations and downright lies were swapped outside the church gates and continued at the holy water font, to the fury of the priest. It finished over a couple of pints in the pub. None of them could be cajoled into giving the actual price, always sidestepping with,”I got what I asked for,” or, “I got a good price.” There were tales of outsmarting the cattle jobbers – an impossible task.

The farmers on our road set out on foot for thwe seven mile journey at 4 a.m. It was their last chamce to sell their calves until the spring. Now nine months old, these calves were wild and unused to the road. Traffic confused them, so their only aim was to get into every field they passed to graze or rest. Each farmer took a helper. Those eho had decided to wait until the spring fair would go along later to size up the form.

The battle would commence at the Feale Bridge where the farmers were accosted by the jobbers- men trying to buy at the lowest price. These offers were treated with contempt and a verbal slagging would follow. “You’ll be glad to give them away before evening,” or, more insulting, “Shoudn’t you have taken them to Roscrea?”

(Roscrea was a meat and bone meal processing plant where old cows that could not be sold for meat were sent for slaughter.)

The shopkeepers and publicans in Listowel were well prepared for the influx; trays of ham sandwiches sitting on the counter of each pub where most of the men finished up. The jobbers, being suitably attired, would have their dinner at the hotel and the farmers who wanted to avoid the pubs would go to Sandy’s for tea and ham. The shopkeepers kept a smile on their faces when calves marched through their doors upsetting merchandise and, sometime, leaving their calling card. The bank manager was equally excited, greeting each man as “Sir”. He found trhis was the safest approach as it was hard to distinguish them. They all looked alike in their wellingtons, coats tied with binder twine and the caps pulled well down on the foreheads.

My father arrived home late. It was obvious he was in a bad mood though he didn’t arrive home with the calves. He said he was cold and hungry and sat in silence at the table, while my mother served up bis dinner which had been kept warm for hours over a pint of hot water. As he was half way through eating his bacon and turnip, he looked at my mother saying, “I’ve never met such a stupid man in all my life.” The quizzical look on her face showed she didn’t have a clue wht he was talking about and didn’t dare ask. It took the mug of tea and the pipe of tobacco to get him started again.

My uncle Dan, my mother’s brother was his helper. Dan was a mild softly spoken man who had little knowledge of cattle. It was a a sluggish fair; prices only fair. My father held out until he was approached by a man he had dealt with often in the past. They followed the usual ritual arguments- offers, refusals, the jobber walking away, returning with his last offer. This was on a par with what my father was expecting so he winked at Dan, which was his cue to say, “Split the difference.” . Instead Dan winked back. My father gave him a more pronounced wink. This elicited the same response from Dan. The day was only saved by a neighbor, who, on noticing the problem, jumped inn, spat on his palms and shouted, “Shake on it, lads, and give the man a luck penny.”

Over a very silent pint and sandwich Dan mournfully remarked, “If Mike hadn’t butted in you’d have got a better price for the calves.”

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The Tim Kennelly Roundabout

This roundabout is on the Tarbert Road at the junction of Cahirdown and The John B. Keane Road.