Changes, a Poem and a Very Welcome Email and a Link to Last Week's "Thoughts"

Fota Wildlife Park in Winter 2021

Picture from Fota website

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Changes on Upper William Street

John Kelliher posted this photo on Facebook. In it Tom and John O'Connell are blocking up the 2 phone boxes. The reaction online to this picture was happy sad. Many people had fond memories of using those phoneboxes. Geraldine Dowling even remembered the phone numbers: 21104 and 21098. There used to be a phone box inside the post office as well. 

God be with the days before mobile phones.

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Sweet Eva, The Flower of Listowel

A love-sick lament From The Advocate, N.Y., USA, 25 Sept., 1937. 

(Most likely composed by an exile from Listowel – N. Leonard).

In the Kingdom of Kerry, by the banks of the Feale,

Lived the maiden I loved heart and soul:

That was years, years ago, but I still love her so,

Sweet Eva, the Flower of Listowel

And the moon, on the river was shining

As long by the Feale we did stroll

And Love, my young heart was entwining

Around Eva, the Flower of Listowel

Though now far away from dear Kerry,

And the wide ocean between us does roll,

Yet my love, as of old, has never grown cold

For my sweetheart, the Flower of Listowel.

As the moon, on the Feale, is still shining

Like it shone on that night we did stroll,

So my heart, for my lost love, is pining,

Sweet Eva, the Flower of Listowel.

By S.F. Quinlivan

685 E. 140 St., Bronx

Sept. 10, 1937

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A Letter from a Troubled Kerry

Mark Holan  writes a great Irish- American blog. He recently wrote of happenings in Kerry in 1921

On Jan. 24, 1921, widowed farmer John Ware of Killelton townland, Ballylongford, mailed a hand-written letter from the rural County Kerry community on the south shore where the wide mouth of the River Shannon empties into the sea. It was addressed to his same-name, bachelor son, a streetcar motorman in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, a noisy, smokey manufacturing city of more than a half million people, a hub of Irish immigrants, including two of his sisters, with a brother on the way.1

The 87-year-old father2 began the letter by thanking his 35-year-old son for an earlier postal order for £3, equivalent to about $200 today.3 Such remittances from immigrants were vital to the Irish economy and perpetuated still more departures.

Your prosperity in America is a great consolation to me. Your generosity and kindness since you left home.....

Read the rest of the article here;

Mark Holan's Irish-American Blog

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Home  Thoughts from Abroad

Remember last week when I shared with you Brendan O'Connor's article about the Cahirciveen journalist, Donie O'Sullivan. One of the people who enjoyed it immensely was Jenny Carey who now lives in the U.S. She enjoyed it so much that she wrote to say thanks. Jenny is a past pupil of mine .

I asked her to tell us a bit about her life now and she did just that.

Hi Mrs. Cogan,

Like so many of your followers Listowel Connection is part of my daily reading and has truly provided an invaluable connection during COVID. I reached out to you last week after laughing out loud as I read the article, "WWDD" by Brendan O' Connor. Along with so many people across the world I watched in horror at what occurred at the Capitol Building in Washington, DC. Watching and listening to Donie reminded me that not all is mad in the world and it did my heart good to hear his Kerry accent. The kids and I were in DC the week before the insurrection occured. The 'selfie' taken by one of my kids captures us with the Washington Monument and the Reflecting Pool  behind us and it's just a stones throw from there to the Capitol Building.

I emigrated to Virginia, USA in 2004 and I currently live in Falls Church which is just a few miles from Washington. We have been working and virtually learning from home since March thanks to COVID. I teach STEM at a local elementary school and my kids are in Middle and High School. We log on at about 7:30am to our respective classes and log off around 3pm. Just like everybody else we have adapted to this way of life. We get out for walks on a daily basis and have a group of friends we meet up with outdoors at least once a week. Sudoku, baking, reading, & Zoom calls have kept me sane through this and being able to see and chat with family and friends in Listowel has been a lifesaver. There are many challenging pieces to living through a pandemic but I have to say the isolation is the most challenging for me. 

The beautiful sunrise I saw on my walk this morning gave me hope and I am hopeful that 2021 will be alot brighter. I will get my first dose of one of the Corona vaccines next week and an inauguration of a new president takes place on Wednesday. Our flights to Ireland are booked for June and I can't wait to hug my family and friends in person. 

Until then I will continue to enjoy reading your blog with my morning coffee. 

Go Raibh Mile Maith Agat,

Jenny

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Thought for the Day

"People don't notice whether it's winter or summer if they are happy."  

Anton Chekov

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Just a Thought

My last week's Thoughts, as broadcast on Radio Kerry are here;

Just a Thought

Reminiscing

Ballybunion in December 2020

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REMINISCING

  

Tonight I ‘m reminiscing

I have turned back the years

Removed the locks from both the doors

And forgot about my fears.

Removed the TV from the shelf

And put it out of sight

Replaced it with a radio

Commentating on a fight.

Put the mobile phone on silent

Took the handset off the wall

Tonight-The only interruption

Neighbours foot steps in the hall.

Reached up to the fuse board

Reversed the on off handle

Got an empty bottle from the press

And placed in it a candle.

Replaced the coal and briquettes

With a seasoned wooden log

And a couple of sods of well dried turf

Harvested from the local bog.

The lid from off the oven

I will heat until just right

Wrap in a woollen sweater

Place in the bed tonight.

Stare out through the window

Watch the snowflakes as they fall

Pretend its Christmas Eve again

And Santa’s sure to call.

Will I read a passage from the book

Or pray the rosary instead?

Then go outside – melt a little snow

Before I go to bed.

Seamus Hora

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A Dedicated Irish Musician who passed away in 1996

Danny Mulvihill

taken from the CCE magazine ‘Treoir’ (Winter ’96)

Dan Mulvihill (left) with Frank Thornton

The lamented death and passing of Danny mulvihill of Chicago on February 5, 1996 removes from among us a kind hearted soul, a genial character, who devoted his entire life to promoting all that is good and great in our Irish Tradition 

Daniel Joseph Mulvihill was born on November 15, 1899 in Kilbaha, Moyvane, Co. Kerry. He was the second child and first boy in a family of eleven children.

He attended school in Moyvane until 1915 when his mother passed away leaving his father with the responsibility of eleven children with the oldest 16 years and the youngest just an infant. Danny assumed the daily responsibility for the farm under his father’s guidance. 

Somewhere around 1918 he became an active volunteer in the Kerry Brigade of the Irish Republican Army. Because of his involvement and activities withe the old IRA, he was forced to leave Ireland in 1920. 

His trip from Ireland landed him in Brooklyn, New York where he found a job with New York City Transit where he worked for a year before packing up and moving to Chicago where he would spend the rest of his life. 

In Chicago, he worked as a conductor for the Surface Lines Transit Systems. After 12 years, he joined the Chicago Fire Department and retired as a Lieutenant in 1963. 

Danny was ever proud of the Mulvihill name and in between jobs, he married Mary Agnes Mulvihill from Ballybunion, Co. Kerry. The Mulvihills had two children, Danny and Mary-Jane, the present Mid-West Regional Secretary for Comhaltas North America. 

I will always remember the prominent role that Danny played in the founding of Comhaltas here in North America together with his lifelong friend and colleague – Comhaltas founding member, Frank Thornton, also from Moyvane. Culturlann na hÉireann, a permanent home for Comhaltas, was something that Danny worked for, hoped for, and envisioned, and he was proud to see it become a reality. 

He was also proud of his native Kilbaha near Moyvane, Co. Kerry, an area steeped in Irish tradition. It was then known as newtownsandes, a thriving little village that straddles the North Kerry and West Limerick border. The name Mulvihill is a common name in the area. And a great many members of the Mulvihill clan found fame, if not fortune, in their adopted lands.

Martin Mulvihill, a renouned fiddle player, was born in the townland of Glenalappa in the parish of Moyvane. Before leaving for England and America he got his early lessons on the fiddle from Barney Enright, still happily with us. This early training stood him in good stead, for in later years as a talented teacher of music, he produced many All-ireland champions in New York. Jerry Mulvihill, the well known traditional dancer, als hails from the same area. This sprightly septuagenarin is still king of the concert stage. He has starred on two Comhaltas Tours of North America. 

The famous Ahern family also hail from Moyvane. Father Pat Ahearn is now the artistic Director of Siamsa Tíre Folk Theatre in Tralee. He was also the producer of the first two concerts to North America in 1972 and 1973. 

Knockanure is probably the best known townland in the parish of Moyvane. Its popularity stems from the famous ballad composed by Professor Brian McMahon of Listowel. ‘The Valley of Knockanure’ which commemorates the death of Walsh, Lyons and Dalton, in that townland during the War of Independence. Danny Mulvihill knew them personally before they gave their lives for Ireland. Thanks to Danny Mulvihill who raised the necessary funds in Chicago, a monument to the memory of Walsh, Lyons and Dalton now stands in that lonely valley of Knockaure, paying silent tribute to three hereos that he knew from his youthful years in Moyvane. 

Moyvane famed in song and story also produced two very famous poets. The late Paddy Drury, a farm labourer whose gift of instant compositions is still talked about in the parish. Also our own genial Dan Keane, still happily with us, he seems to have inherited Paddy Drury’s great gift as a poet, writer and collector of verse. Again I am grieved that Danny Mulvihill is no longer with us. To Mary-Jane, Danny and his immediate family, I offer my deepest sympathy on the loss of a kind and gentle soul. 

For all the rest of us to mourn his passing, we should be encouraged by his life of dedication, his love of music and song from his beloved Moyvane, and area rich in lore and in culture, that gave to us and to Comhaltas such stalwarts as Danny Mulvihill and many others as well, who are indeed a credit to their parish and to Ireland.

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Opening Night Listowel Writers Week 2019

Former Minister Mary Banotti with Dr. Olive Pierse

Máire Logue and Eddie Moylan

Nora Sheahan and Betty Stack

Canon  Declan O'Connor and Bishop Ray Browne

Looking Back

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This off licence is now called Carry Out

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I have no name for this Listowel curate who accompanied these ladies to Lourdes. In fact I dont have a date or names for the ladies either.

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Back Home

by Anon

If I had the power to turn back the clock, 

Go back to that house at 4th end of the block-

The house that was HOME when I was a kid,

I know I would love it more now than I did.

If I could be back there at my mother’s knee,

And hear once again all the things she told me,

I’d listen as I never listened before

For she knew so well just what life had in store.

And all the advice my dad used to give

His voice I’ll remember as long as I live;

It didn’t seem really important then.

What I’d give just to live it all over again.

Oh, what I’d give for the chance I once had,

To do so much more for my mum and my dad,

To give them more joy and a little less pain,

A Little more sunshine, a little less rain.

But the years roll on and we cannot go back,

Whether we were born in a mansion our shack

But we can start right no in the hour that is here

To do something more for the ones we hold dear.

Since e Time in its flight is travelling fast,

Lets no spend it regretting that which is past.

Lats make tomorrow a happier day

By doing our “good to others’ TODAY

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Knockanure Boys

Photo found on the internet

Juvenile Tennis 1986 and Listowel Drama Group's 1978 production

Dawn on Portmarnock strand...Photo Éamon ÓMurchú

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Listowel Juvenile Tennis club

Participants in the club championship 1987

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Listowel Drama Group 1976

Many of the participants are no longer with us. May they all rest in peace

Owen MacMahon shared the photos and programme with us and Dave O'Sullivan looks up the newspaper accounts of the play.

 

Sunday Miscellany 2009, Knitwits and Irish place names

Early morning in Portmarnock      Photo; Éamon ÓMurchú

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Listowel Writers' Week 2009

One of the highlights of Writers' Week was always the recording of RTE 1's Sunday Miscellany. This one in St. John's in 2009 had a star studded cast led by Hollywood icon Gabriel Byrne, who had just published his first book,  Pictures in my Head. He published his second one at the end of last year, Walking with Ghosts. He writes well.

Seamus Begley and Gabriel Byrne at LWW 2009

The same Seamus Begley and his brother Breanndán from Baile na bPoc were guests on the Tommy Tiernan Show last Saturday. They gave us an insight into a way of life that is dying out.

Begley Brothers on Tommy Tiernan

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Seems a long time ago now

Happy group of knitters and natterers in Scribes in Church Street, Listowel in summer 2019.

Left to right; Mary Boyer, Mairead Sharry, Mary Cogan, Maureen Connolly, Kathleen MacCarthy, Patricia Borley and Una Hayes.

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What's in a Name?

I got this book among my Christmas presents and I'm really enjoying it. It is full of little nuggets of information about Irish place names.

Did you know that places with 

Kill in their name once had a church?

Knock means they are on a hill

Derry means they had an stand of oak trees one time

Glen is from the Irish gleann meaning valley

Clon is from the Irish Cluain meaning meadow

Ben means the town was built on a peak

Lough means it was near a lake

Clock from cloch meaning a stone often refers to local ogham stones.

The Weather, Country Life in the 1950s and Donie O'Sullivan of Cahirciveen

Early morning in Portmarnock captured by Éamon ÓMurchú

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Weir in Ballincollig Regional Park

Christmas season 2020 brought us very mixed weather.  When I was visiting my Cork family Storm Bella was raging and flooded roads were the biggest hazard.  Then when I came home snow and ice were the problem. I live in dread fear of falling (once bitten etc.) so I didn't even venture outdoors for exercise.

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The Way We Were

Noreen and John O'Connell here share with us an account of a way of life we will see no more. It is important to document this piece of social history in the words of a man who lived it, remembers it well and is generous in his sharing of it.

Mary, my good friend has prompted and encouraged me to send her some  of John’s reminiscings. 

My beloved husband John O’ Connell has a fantastic memory so I have been documenting some of his memories for our 8 children and 13 grandchildren. John from Coolaclarig, Listowel grew up in Curraghatoosane ( affectionately known as Bothairín Dubh). Therefore again he is the narrator, I, Noreen am the willing  scribe!

“ I grew up on a farm, a mile outside the town. Cows were hand milked, I would have to milk 3 or 4 every morning before I went to primary school. We supplied milk to customers in town and others called to the house for it. So every morning and evening, I got on my bike, handlebars laden with 3 pint stainless steel measures  and a 4-5 pint little  tank and hit the road, delivering to families in Convent Street, O Connell’s Avenue, St. Brendans Terrace, Upper William St , the Square and down to Daltons in the Bridge Road.  One frosty morning I skidded from the old Post office to John B.’s ( who was a customer) but thankfully never spilled a tint of milk. However I wasn’t as lucky  another  morning when I took my frozen  hands off the handlebars and torpedoed at Leahy’s Corner. With empty gallons and  grazed knees and hands, I nervously returned home to get very little sympathy but a re-fuel of milk and was sent away with a clip on the ear and a warning not to spill any more milk.

Then there was the market gardening side of life. All our neighbours were gardening also as the land was suitable and we lived near the town. We had acres of spuds, cabbage, carrots and turnips. Every spring there was ploughing and setting. We “comhared ”with Jack O’ Connor next door, my father and Jack shared the horse plough and his horse and ours were tackled to it. It was a 2 wheel plough and turned a single scribe. The horses were tackled with the collar and hames. The traces from the hames were attached to a back pad and then on to  2 small quins which were then attached to a big quin . For attaching a horse to a cart a britchen was used and  a back band and a belly band. A reins was tied to each side of the mouth bit  to guide the horses. The ploughing was slow and could take 2-3 days to complete. 

After a week when the upturned ground was dry it was harrowed to break the scraws and soil. Next the drills were opened with a double- boarded plough and farmyard dung spread. Seemingly  it was the job of the nana if one lived with you to cut the sciolláin. As we had no grandmother in our home, an elderly neighbour obliged. I remember her sitting by the open hearth, with a scarf and shawl around her shoulders , a bucket wedged on her lap and she was cutting away. There was an art to this as you had to ensure you had a súilín on each piece of the spud.  When the sciolláns were finished, the setting began. We children were kept at home from school for this. We donned  a hessian bib, roughly fashioned from a sack,  which contained the sciolláin (seed potatoes) and dropped them  10 inches apart into the furrow, and pressed them into the dung (manure) with our bare feet. Furrows were for a big garden but ridges were for small areas. The sciolláin were set like a tri-pod  in ridges.

We went totally barefoot from May to October. Our feet were black after this and even after steeping them in a pan of water the colour and maybe and the smell stayed put. As time passed the spuds were blinded and risen to with more earth. They were sprayed with a mix of water and bluestone to prevent blight. Before Listowel Races the digging began,with spades and  then the pitting in the garden. 

Throughout the winter we had to open the pits a few times and turn the spuds to prevent shooting. We’d dump the bad ones and then  cover with fresh straw and close up again. T’is then you would see the mice flying. I remember a man my father had  helping him, and a mouse ran up the leg of his trousers “unknownst”to him, stayed there in the comfort and heat until your man was taking off his trousers to go to bed that night, when he made his escape.

When spring came these spuds were bagged in 20 stone bags and transported down to the market, weighed and sold. The Aran Banners were bought for chips at 4d a stone. This income from the spuds was needed as we had no milk for sale until the calving . We kept enough spuds for ourselves, some for next years seed and the small ones were fed to the pigs and pulped for  the cows. There was no waste. 

As well as spuds we grew turnip and carrots and mangolds and, of course, cabbage. I remember going around the town with the ass and car selling cabbage on Saturday mornings. I got 6d a head. One woman had no change , but a pound  and I hadn’t enough change for her. So I knocked on another door and asked the woman of the house if she had the change of a pound. She looked at me and said” Yerra garsún a chroí if I had a pound note like you have, I’d stay up all night minding it”

There was some oats set too. If it was a year when we only had a small amount it was cut by scythe, bound and stooked until the threshing, but other times it was cut by a man who was hired with a  the reaper and binder. Threshing days were another great event in the year with a meitheal of locals. That night there was bit of a hooley with a half tierce and music and dance.

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Donie O'Sullivan of Cahirciveen and Washington

I've often thought that having an unusual name so that everyone recognised you by your Christian name only, would be cool. I am saddled with a name so common in my youth that one elderly nun in our school called every girl Mary and she was right at least half of the time. 

Most of his friends and work colleagues in the US knew no one called Donie until they met this Kerryman. He has to explain that he is not Don ee but Dough Knee. 

Now, here, where we know well how to say his name, he is the only Donie on everyone's lips, for he has come to fame  as one of the CNN journalists at The Capitol on its most historic day in recent times. I must confess that I had never heard of him until then ( even though he once worked for that groundbreaking organisation, Storyful, mentioned here before in connection with  Malachy Browne and Rhona Tarrant)  but I sure know him now and his lovely parents.  His US friends may need subtitles for his down -to- earth Kerry father. It was a tonic to see mórtas cine shining from this man, a world away from Donald Trump who also takes pride in his sons. Both Donald and Donie's escapades on January 6 2021 will now be part of history.

I had to share Brendan O'Connor's piece in Sunday's Independent, Jan 19 2021. It raised a smile in a tough old week.

Christmas 2020, North Kerry M.S 1991 and Boys Tennis 1987

A New Dawn

A new day dawns in Portmarnock and Éamon ÓMurchú was there to capture it.

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A Season for PJS and Slippers

Christmas 2020 was a festive season like no other I remember. We were given a brief respite from lockdown and I was lucky to see my family. Those few short family days confirmed my determination to stay safe so that I can enjoy these precious times again.

Chinese Chequers with the girlies.

Scrabble is another favourite. To our shame, the only non native English speaker at the board was the winner.

If you like boardgames and you are looking for some new ones to play in lockdown, I'd recommend Rummicub. It's suitable for all age groups. We love Dixit too. This is definitely one for lovers of cryptic clues.

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Looking Back and Remembering 1991

Mary Robinson, President of Ireland came to town to open Listowel Writers Week '91. On the morning after the official opening she met with representatives of local charitable organisations. I was there with the local branch of MS Ireland.

Left to Right: James Kenny, Bridie O'Rourke, Helen Moylan, Tom Kelly (Tom, very sadly, passed away on Christmas Day 2020. May he rest in peace.), Mary Robinson, Nuala Finnegan, Ursula O'Conor, Anne O'Connor, Mary Doyle R.I.P. and Mary Cogan

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Listowel Tennis Club Winners of Boys Tournament 1987

Back: John Finnegan, Brian O'Shea, Tom Doyle, John MacAuliffe and Seamus Cronin

Front; Dessie O'Sullivan, Bobby Cogan, Mikey Whelan and Seán Quinlivan

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A Precious Christmas Card