Essays & Observations ...Tony Conboy

2011-04-01T20:51:00.002+01:00

9.p.m. Happy birthday, today Friday April 1st, to John Joe Nerney who is 89 and going strong. Tomorrow from 9am the Cricket World Cup Final-betweeen India and Sri Lanka- takes place in Mumbai (Bombay if I'm not mistaken) the home town of the legend Sachin Tenduldkar. So if India are first in to bat Sachin should be at bat at 11 plus. You can hear it on BBC Radio 5 or there are live feeds (streaming) on the internet.

2010-02-21T20:00:00.000Z

Child of Prague:
At the end of September 2009 I visited two great and very different European cities, Prague and Berlin. Travelling to these cities is not a major challenge. I have done it a number of times, and I have never been disappointed. The company I have used, with great satisfaction, is called ‘The Travel Department’. Prague which is referred to locally as Praha, though changing, is one of Europe’s treasures. Prague straddles the banks of the Vltava River and is a UNESCO heritage city. It is located at the centre of Europe and while we like to talk and dwell on our history we are one dimensional and really on the fringe of European history. Prague had history and influence impinging from all points of the compass. It is a history of which we know little. It formed the border of the Medieval Turkish expansion in Europe. Perhaps you might indulge me retracing my investigation of this lovely city in the company of up to forty other Irish visitors and our local guide Sharka. We began our tour of the city at the imposing Prague Castle, with its ‘changing of the guard’ ceremony. Like many castles it overlooks the majestic city bathed in warm autumn sunshine. The complex includes the beautiful cathedral of St. Vitus which was closed in preparation for the Pope’s visit the following day. It was downhill over a quarter of a mile of steps to the Child of Prague church. I didn’t know that this icon was of Spanish origin and the church was also visited by Pope Benedict on his visit to Prague. We crossed the Vltava River over the crowded but famous pedestrian Charles Bridge. On the bridge the strains of quality classical music fills the air. Nearby, people hand out flyers advertising classical concerts with the music of the great composers. Many take place in former churches. This bridge with its 30 varied statues was a montage of artistic endeavour like those of Venice. Past it, after a maze of streets was the famous astronomical clock, the stunning St. Nicholas Church and large square. Apparently these act as a beacon for visitors and wedding parties. Not far away is the other great Wenceslas square fronted by its fine statue of the ‘Good King Wenceslas’. This boulevard square has been the location for many critical moments of Czech history. In the distance overlooking the city is a scaled replica of the Eiffel Tower. It needs initiative to access this and a failed attempt to scale the underlying hill on foot led me to resort to the curiously named ‘funicular’ tram. The following day a couple of us returned to Prague Castle only to accidentally encounter the visit of Pope Benedict to the Cathedral of St. Vitus. This was certainly a much lower key visit than it would be in many other places but it was a happy accident for us.
Prague and the Czech Republic have had the traumas of communist domination from World War Two until the ‘Velvet Revolution’ of 1989 and Vaclav Havel. There had been a slight glimmer of hope in 1968 with the Alexander Dubchek ‘Prague Spring’ but this was crushed by the communists with Russian aid. Today it is in transition being in the E.U. since ’04 but not yet in the Euro zone. This presents logistical difficulties for visitors in coping with the local Koruna or Crown. The debate about joining the euro continues. There are two views on the E.U. also. One fears the submergence of the recent democracy in another totalitarian super-state different to communism of course. The other view is the security which the membership and alliances of E.U. brings.
Prague is a fascinating city a bit like the heirloom china that one fears to use in case it gets damaged. Perhaps the overrun of tourists might diminish its charm. On Sunday, after just a few days, we were on our way again taking the train from Prague on a five hour journey, through Dresden, to a very different city, Berlin

2010-02-20T14:14:00.000Z

Boyle’s All-Ireland Fleadhs:
“I was in Boyle once…..many years ago now. It was during one of the great Fleadhs…the best I was ever at….I remember it well….great days, great music.” I have had this reaction more than once whenever I mention that I’m from Boyle. The Fleadhs of Boyle live on in the memories of the thousands who visited the towns on those memorable weekends nearly thirty years ago. They act too as markers in the memories of those involved.
Origins: Comhaltas Ceoltoiri Eireann had been founded at the turn of the fifties to nurture and promote Irish traditional music, song and dance. This promotion culminated in the great annual festival of Irish music, the Fleadh Cheoil. These had begun at Mullingar in 1951 and had been held, through the fifties, in towns such as Athlone, Ennis, Loughrea and Longford. Boyle’s turn came in 1960.
Surrounded by Music: While traditional music, native to the town, was scarce enough, Boyle was at the heart of a countryside immersed in music. Among those musicians were Joe and Paddy McDonagh of Ballinafad. They possessed a wealth of tunes which they passed on to the younger generation including Matt Molloy. Also from Ballinafad were Bertie and Michael Joe MacNiff. The sessions in Corrigeenroe revolved around Paddy Nicholson’s. Here was a fine fiddle player, Michael Lyons, who later emigrated to the U.S. while Jim McLoughlin played the whistle. Paddy Nicholson himself played the fiddle, while another great player was Phil McConnon. In nearby Doon were the McGlynns, Eugene, Joe, Pat and Owen and also Peter Gallagher. On the other side of Boyle, in Keash, were Peter and Joe Cullen, Michael Brennan and Mark Walshe. From Killaraght came Mrs. Meehan, Kevin Meehan and Oliver Knott. In Ballinameen there were Eugene Duffy, and Paddy Kenny with E. Lavin in Breedogue. Nearer the town was accordion player Paddy Cregg and flute player Eddie Cummins. From the town were the fiddle players John Dwyer and Paddy Morris and brothers Jimmy and Bernard Flaherty, originally from near Castlebaldwin, both accomplished accordion players. Then there was Kathleen Dwyer Morris who hailed from Ballindoon but became intrinsically linked with Boyle. These musicians flavoured the times as they played at Country House dances, American wakes, occasional concerts and rambling house sessions. They had their own local style dictated by restricted means of transport and local identity. In the fifties this changed and the Fleadhs accelerated the change.
Venue Selection: News of the great gathering of musicians at the All-Ireland Fleadhs, of the early fifties, began to filter back to Boyle. A branch of Comhaltas was formed, instigated by Micheal O Callaghan. He became the first Branch Chairman. Clareman, Garda Joe Leahy was Vice-Chairman; Des Kennedy was Secretary with Paddy Morris and Mrs. Margaret Nicholson acted as Co-Treasurers. Other core committee members included Mr. and Mrs. John O’Dowd; Jimmy and Tess Flaherty, Martin Candon and Kathleen-Dwyer Morris among others. Present, at that initial meeting, to lend encouragement, were Tommy Flynn and Pat Joe Dowd from Lough Arrow. This ambitious committee applied to host the 1960 All-Ireland Fleadh. Because of its youth, it had to overcome the national organisations doubts in its ability to do so at a special meeting in Birr.
Preparation and Anticipation: The town did not know what to expect from the event and could hardly have anticipated the immense size and impact of the occasion. It came as a shock to Boyle but the town rallied and won through on all fronts. The days immediately preceding the weekend were days of feverish activity. Temporary cafes, eating houses and accommodation venues, emerged, responding to the cajoling of the committee’s accommodation secretary, Jimmy Flaherty. Camping grounds sprang up as the town improvised to cater for the expected crowds. And they came, first as a trickle on Friday evening, to a steady stream early on Saturday to a flood on the evening and night and on Sunday morning, until the streets were filled with a happy, jostling throng.
Triumph: The 1960 All-Ireland Fleadh was a triumph for Boyle; a triumph of organisation, co-operation and atmosphere, which left a wealth of memories and established Boyle as a premier venue for the festival. Sunday morning opened to the crash of a thunder storm, which threatened the day. But, having given its salute, it passed on, as the parades and music returned to the streets, while the competitions proceeded in the many centres. Among the winners that weekend were many who were to become household names in the traditional music scene. Joe Burke, Matt Molloy and Josie McDermott were winners as were the Tulla Ceili Band. Locals too performed with distinction, including Frances Grehan, Sean Kenny, and Aidan Sheerin. The St. Attracta’s Ceili Band, Ballinameen; Buion Cheoil Mhuire, Drumboylan and Marian Band, Boyle were successful in the Roscommon County competitions.
A post-Fleadh account went thus “…the memory of it is still fresh in the minds of the thousands…..and what memories they are….to try and sort them out is almost impossible for they come crowding into the mind in a confusion of sounds, faces and incidents that prevents the pictures from coming sharply into focus. The skirl of the pipes, the lilt and lift of the dance tunes, the ballad singing and dancing on the pavements, the laughter and noise of the happy laughing crowd seemed to hang over the streets of Boyle.”
Epilogue: The return of the Fleadh of 1966, held in glorious Whit weekend weather, confirmed and enhanced Boyle’s reputation. The opposition encountered by the committee to the Fleadh’s proposed return in 1972, in the nervous atmosphere of the Northern Troubles, was a big disappointment to them. While there were very good County and Provincial Fleadhs in this period, and an active branch, the possible repeat of 1960 or 1966 faded as Listowel took over the mantle. Neither has the number of Boyle musicians grown beyond the traditional families of Flaherty, Morris, Meehan and Grehan. The strongholds are still outside in places such as Ballyfarnon and Castlebaldwin. The local Comhaltas branch is dormant, with little prospect of coming to meaningful life. The twenty fifth anniversary of the 1960 Fleadh inspired the Editor of the Roscommon Herald (and motivator of the first festival, Micheal O’Callaghan) to ask, above a picture of a crowded town; “Will we ever see the like again?” I doubt it very much, so let’s hold on to the memories of ’60 and ’66.
“Ah yes, I was in Boyle once…. “
First published in the important Moylurg Writers Book of essays, on Boyle, Vol. 2, published Nov. 1993.
(Acknowledgements to Mrs. Margaret Nicholson and Mrs. Kathleen Dwyer Morris for their help with this article).

2010-02-19T19:43:00.003Z

Roscommon U-21 All-Ireland 1966:
‘The Eighth Wonder of the World’
(For the 40th Anniversary-2006- of a great Roscommon All-Ireland Under 21 Victory).

Noted GAA correspondent John D. Hickey suggested that if Roscommon were to beat Kildare and win the All-Ireland Under- 21 Final of 1966 it would be ‘an eight wonder of the world’. In a glorious hour’s football, after a game of swaying fortunes, Roscommon did just that and the critics were confounded. Roscommon became the first holders of the Clarke Cup, ironically donated by Kildare County Board in honour of a long-serving Kildare official in the third year of the competition. This made up for the disappointment of ’65 when a fine Minor side were beaten in the Semi-Final by Derry.
In retrospect this was a star-studded side but three of the starting side Earley, Cox, Kelly were still only minors such plus O’Gara who came on and substitutes Feely and O’Sullivan. Through the campaign they played with dash and style and the final against reigning champions Kildare was an exhibition of football.
Convincing in Connacht:
They gave first notice of their possibilities with a top class display against Galway in the first round where Pat Nicholson was outstanding. Roscommon 1.9 Galway 1.5. However they just shaded the Semi-Final v Leitrim with the first of series of fine performances from Martin Joe Keane. Roscommon 2.6 Leitrim 1.8.
In the Connacht Final Mayo raced into a six point lead. Ropscommon made some telling switches and Mayo were reeled in by half-time. Roscommon dominated the second half and ended convincing winners. Roscommon 1.15 Mayo 0.9. Dermot Earley accounted for 0.8 of Roscommon’s total.

Close call in Semi-Final:
Roscommon 2.2 Donegal 0.5.
The odd scoreline gives some indication of the game. Roscommon should have won more convincingly but shot an unhealthy number of wides. Tom Heheghan had the side’s only first half score, a great goal, which left them ahead by a point at half time. Heneghan was also involved in the second goal being brought down for a penalty which Jim Keane converted. Heneghan and Martin Joe Keane starred while Roscommon had a great half-back line of Gerry Mannion, Paul Mockler and Colm Shine.
Grand Final Victory:
This game included all that was best in Gaelic football and will rank among the best performances by a Roscommon side in Croke Park. Roscommon started with three quick points from Jimmy Finnegan and John Kelly (2). Kildare responded with five points without reply and led at half-time 0.7 to 0.5. Kildare dominated the third quarter and raced to a six point lead and seemed to be on the way to retaining their title and being the first holders of their own cup. Roscommon restructured their side bringing Earley to midfield and Martin Joe Keane to the edge of the square and Jim (Jumbo) Keane to centre-forward. This had the desired effect and Roscommon came back with a cracking goal from Jumbo followed by another from Jimmy Finnegan after good work from Martin Joe. These goals decided the outcome as the ‘lily whites’ wilted.
In the latter stages it was a total team performance of great passion, character and efficiency. The back line personified a ‘thou shall not pass’ tenaciousness as represented by Clarke and Shine. Up front the speed and accuracy of John Kelly showed him up as one of the outstanding forwards on view among a star-studded cast from both sides. It should be remembered that Kildare were defending champions and were favourites for very valid reasons. Eleven starting players and one substitute had been on the victorious team versus Cork in ’65. The side included quite a number of players who were to become household names not only in their own county but in the broader Gaelic spectrum. These included Ollie Crinnegan (goalkeeper), Pat Mangan, Tommy Carew and Pat Dunny.
Roscommon team Captain, Colm Shine, accepted the Clarke Cup (ironically just presented by Kildare in memory of a long-serving official) from the GAA President Hugh Byrne. By co-incidence it was just twelve months to the day that Mr Byrne had presented Mick Hoare with the All-Ireland Junior Hurling Cup in St. Coman’s Park.
The team made a triumphal tour of the county on their return, breaking with tradition by crossing the Shannon at Tarmonbarry. From there they visited Strokestown and Elphin to an explosive reception in Boyle where Johnny Keaveny’s coal lorry, acting as rostrum,left its mark. The team then visited Castlerea and Ballintubber on their way to a County Board reception in Roscommon town.
The team:
Pat Reynolds (Elphin), Pat Clarke (Boyle), Pat Nicholson (Boyle), Colm Shine (Capt./ Clann na Gael), Gerry Mannion (St. Brigids), Paul Mockler (St Croan’s), Tommy Heneghan (Castlerea), Martin Joe Keane (Creggs), John O’Connor (Roscommon Gaels), Jimmy Finnegan (Castlerea), Dermot Earley (Michael Glaveys U 18), Jim Cox ( St. Barry’s U 18), Marty Cummins (Shannon Gaels), Jim Keane (St. Brigids), John Kelly (Elphin U 18). Substitute used Mark O’Gara, (St Croan’s U 18).
Also on the match programme are Willie Feeley (Rahara U 17!), John Nicholson (Boyle), Ray Sheerin (St. Michaels), Noel Daly (Castlerea, who was ill for the final).
In the team picture are, Frank Fallon (St. Faithleach’s), Oliver Naughton (Padraig Pearse’s), James Beirne (Elphin), Jerome Dufficey (Tulsk).
Also associated with the team K. McGuinness (Tarmonbarry), Adrian O’Sullivan (Castlerea U 18), T. Gacquin (St. Aidan’s), Sean O Donnell (St. Faithleach’s), a total of 28 in all.

The reason I note those U 18 is to give an indication of how young three of their most influential players were. Indeed star player John Kelly says that it was the Minor Championship, not the under 21, that they really hoped to win that year. Being 1966, the 50th Anniversary of 1916, the All-Ireland medals were of special quality as were all All-Ireland medals of that year. The team trainer was Dr. Keenan.
The team were feted at the County Senior Final and as guests of the Roscommon Supporters Club in Dublin in October.
It is fair to say that nearly all of the above went on to give great service to Roscommon as senior players and in other GAA roles within the county subsequently. It was one of the most talented sides Roscommon ever fielded and in ways this year’s minor team has shades of its composition.

2010-02-19T17:15:00.004Z

Scor in Boyle: Boyle was an active Club in Scor in the initial decade from ’69 to ’79This was a period when Boyle had a National reputation as a centre for traditional music and song. This was highlighted by the great All-Ireland Fleadhs of 1960 and 1966. There were also a number of successful Connacht and Roscommon Fleadhs. Boyle was also an active participant in the Comhaltas, Scoraiocht, competition.
As a result of this there was a crossover of participants to Scor and such was the dual participation that both competitions have become somewhat confused in the memories of the participants of thirty years ago. This was exemplified by the confusion over an outing in Ballyleague Hall in the early to mid seventies when a Boyle Set Dance Group, including Christy Slein and Paddy McGarry, while losing out on technicalities won on the clapometer!
Regular Club representatives were the Morris family who were well known in traditional music circles in Comhaltas. Mrs. Morris, a noted traditional fiddle player, participated in the All-Ireland at the R.D.S. in 1972. She participated again in 1978 in the music group with members of her family, Anthony and Anne.
In 1976 Boyle represented Roscommon in the All-Ireland Finals in Leisureland in ‘The Novelty Act’ and ‘Ballad Group’. Sean Young, a fine singer, participated in both. The ‘Ballad Group’ had stiff competition in this period from Roscommon Gaels group, while Sean remembers a P.J. Shine orchestrated Clann na Gael, as always being to the fore in ‘The Novelty Act’. The Ballad Group featured in an RTE highlights programme.
Sean remembers an incident, with an adjudicator, in Ballinameen Hall, when the adjudicator, though commending his solo singing of the song ‘Sliabh Gallion Brae’, referred to it as a Scottish song. Sean was quick to clarify the issue by informing the adjudicator that he grew up in the shadow of the said Sliabh, in South Derry.
The internal Club competition, was, for a number of years, of a high standard. This competition was held in The Tennis Pavilion where a spirit of friendly rivalry prevailed.
The Bolger family from Corrigeenroe were the backbone of any dancing entry. Among the other Scor regulars were Barry Feely, P.J. and Maureen Keane, Rosaleen Moran , Una Beirne and Paddy McDermott. Scor, with many other social outings centred around music and song, give to the decade of the seventies a kaleidoscope of memories, colouring a very different world, for the small group of participants from Boyle. (For a County Scor publication Sept. 2005).

Handball The Golden Age in Boyle: Perhaps there are other parallels in sport but I don’t know of them,so it can be confidently proposed that for the decade of the 1930s’ Boyle was the heartbeat of handball in Ireland. This was due to the efforts of one John Casey who ran his ball-alley, Casey’s Alley in Patrick Street Boyle. From it came one of the great champions of any sport and I contend Roscommon’s greatest ever sportsman. His name was Paddy Perry. With Perry in the lead there was a supporting cast of other fine handballers such as Paddy Reid, the Gaughrans, Clarkes, Kennedy, Devine, Dooley and Gibbons. Perry won his first All Ireland, a Junior softball singles and accompanied by Tommy Gaughran they also won the doubles, at the Horse and Jockey alley in Tipperary in 1929. In 1930 Paddy won the first of 8 All Ireland Senior softball titles in a row, 1930 to 1937 incl. For a long time it was felt that this would never be equalled but it has been by Kilkenny handballer, Duxie Walshe. Perry with Austin Mullaney, son of a schoolteacher from outside Boyle and later a teacher himself in Glinsk, Co. Glaway, won the Senior All Ireland Softball Doubles in ’32 and ’33. In ’36, Paddy, with his friend Paddy Reid of Tawnanaden, Boyle, they took the All Ireland Senior hardball doubles title. In nine years he won 13 All Ireland medals along with a host of Provincial and Garda honours as well as the prestiguous Tailteann Games Singles and Doubles (with A. Mullaney) in 1932. He was awarded the G.A.A. Golden Jubilee Year Trophy for 1934.
There is a reference to him being selected for an Irish handball team to participate at the !932 Olympics at Los Angeles and of the team being unable to travel due to lack of funds. While a case is being put to have handball (as we know it) included today I was not aware that it was part of an Olympic programme previously.
Perry was to be succeeded by another great champion whose father came from Boyle but was domiciled in Kilkenny, John Joe Gilmartin. They met in October 1937 at Clogh, Co. Kilkenny. Noted handball authority and referee, Tom McElligott, wrote evocatively, in his 1984 book on handball, on this game:
“ Like the meeting of two great players in any sport, while the match did not answer all the questions, it was still a memorable occasion. It showed Perry at his masterly best. It showed Gilmartin who still had a bit to go to attain similar mastery. Perry was then a commanding figure, fast-moving with a deceptively easy way of hitting a decisive ‘kill’. His beautiful service that ran only inches below the board at the top of the side-walls meant that Gilmartin rarely put him out in his return of service. Gilmartin, only coming on the scene, showed breath-taking speed and rapier drives down the side- walls. Perry came out the winner by the odd game in five. On the homeward journey none of us had any doubt but that we had seen a match that would not be surpassed in our time’.
Paddy went down to John Joe in 1938 with the most disappointing feature being that the game was in Boyle. “ I didn’t mind losing as much to John Joe, because he was one of the greatest I ever played but to lose in my home town was naturally disappointing” Perry later recalled. They remained friends and long afterwards discussed with admiration and envy the quality of the new glass courts of Croke Park.
That Paddy Perry remained in Ireland at all was a close run thing. He was due to go to an uncle in the States but was persuaded by General Eoin O’Duffy to join the Guards in line with his policy of getting prominent sports people into the force.
Membership of the force led to a unique and probably never to be equalled accolade for Paddy Perry in that he was to win three Dublin senior championships on the one day representing the Garda. It was in 1934. In the football final they defeated St. Joseph’s. He was persuaded to play in the hurling Final against Faughs, which they also won. Paddy sustained a badly injured ankle and rib and was strongly advised not to play for some time. However on that evening he defeated Peter Berry (a prominent Civil Servant in the early 70s’) in the handball final. This made his injuries worse but he later felt the uniqueness of his achievement made it worthwhile.
Paddy played Gaelic football for Boyle and Roscommon. He played with the Garda and won Dublin Senior Championships in ’33, ’34, ’35. He won a Leinster Senior medal with Dublin County in ’34 and was on the Dublin panel which disposed of Kerry convincingly in the Semi-final at Tralee but were defeated by Galway (Connacht’s first Senior Football win) in the All-Ireland Final.
He also played soccer for Sligo Rovers under the name ‘Mickey Rooney’.
In recalling his most memorable moments he nominated his return to Boyle after his victories in the All Ireland Junior singles and Doubles with Tommy Gaughran in 1929.
“They laid rockets on the railway track which announced our homecoming. There were bonfires blazing and we were carried shoulder high down the town accompanied by the town’s ‘Brass and Reed’ band. We were young and really enjoyed it all.’

Paddy Perry was the second person to be honoured with a Hall of Fame award in Roscommon in 1969. (The previous year Tom Shevlin was similarly honoured).
He served in the Garda from 1931 until retirement, on his birthday March 17, 1972, with all his service being in Dublin. He was born on Patrick’s day 1909 and died in April 1983 aged 74 years.
His life-long friend, fellow Boyle man and handball champion Paddy Reid paid him this tribute;
‘during his time as Champion he met many very great players throughout Ireland but none of them could compete with the brilliance of the great Champion Paddy Perry was. I have witnessed many great games during and since that time and I can truly say that his superiority and brilliance have never been and are never likely to be equalled. He was a credit to his county and country and to the Garda Siochana in which he served with distinction for 41 years”

PADDY REID:
Paddy was born in Townanadden, Boyle. As an older child he was sent to live with his mother’s relatives, the hunts of Moygara near Gurteen, Co. Sligo. His cousin Jim Hunt an R.I.C. man was a handballer and had won Munster titles while stationed there and Connacht Softball Singles subsequently. Jim Hunt left the R.I.C. and was involved in the Independence with which Paddy Reid also became involved on leaving school. Paddy applied to join the new Civic Guards and was inducted in Dublin in February 1923 and was posted to Newtownforbes in July. In 1924 Paddy with Jim Hunt won the All Ireland Senior Softball Doubles title for Sligo, beating the Meath representatives at Kells. (For a County GAA Publication)

County Colours: The Story of the use and origin of Roscommon’s GAA colours Blue and Gold (sometimes referred to as ‘Primrose and Blue’).
In the early years counties were represented by clubs and wore club jerseys. Roscommon seem to have used black jerseys probably because the dominant club, Elphin, had those colours, The first county team picture, with players from different clubs, 1915, (Ros. Hist p. 34) has a mix of ‘black with an unusual crest (3) ’, ‘black with a shamrock’ (goalie), ‘black with a diagonal band’ (1), and vertical bands of black and maybe green (10).
The 1916 team (p. 36) has a couple of black with crest, one with shamrock and the remainder black.
The 1925 team (p 45) has the vertical black and maybe green band in toto.
The 1932 team (p. 50) has the black jersey, with green horizontal hoops.
The ‘black with green hoops white collars and cuffs’ is given in ‘The Irish Independent GAA Golden Jubilee Number, Easter, 1934, as the official Roscommon county colours. (Nemo Rangers wear this kind of combination today).
This obtained until 1939 and the beginning of the ‘new’ colours.
In 1937 Tarmon (just outside Castlerea) and Castlerea Clubs combined. The agreement was that, the name Tarmon would be the name of the amalgamated Club but the Club colours would be that of Castlerea, blue and gold/primrose/yellow.
Castlerea got their colours, and by connection Roscommon County, as follows.
In the 20s’ the fortunes of the Castlerea Club were low and a group of young fellows were ‘doing the town’ collecting money to buy a set of jerseys and a football. They came to a Mr. Callaghan who owned a bakery (no relation of J.P (Doc) Callaghan). He told them to continue to collect for the football but that he would ‘sponsor’ a set of jerseys for them so long as the colours were those of the painting of a nearby shop, ‘primrose and blue’. This was no problem to the collectors and so the subsequent Castlerea colours were thus.
Returning to the county scene in 1939. Roscommon had no Senior team and were graded Junior and reached the All Ireland final. They wore the County colours of ‘black and green’ against Mayo, Limerick (Co. Hist. p. 74) but were beaten by Dublin in the Final.
The Minors also were also featuring in a run that won the county its first All Ireland title. The county had only one set of jerseys, it is assumed. Dan O’ Rourke County Chairman since ’35 was the N.T. in Tarmon and a Tarmon official. The Minors, we assume, wore the Tarmon jerseys, blue with yellow hoops (Ros. Hist. P. 70 and 72 ).
Because of the success of this team and their colour of ‘blue and gold’ being ‘lucky’ for them and perhaps with a better look input ‘the blue and gold’ colours were adopted by the county Board in 1940.
We see these jerseys on pages 76 (All Ireland winning Juniors), 78 (Minors All Ireland winners again) up to and including the 1943 All Ireland Semi-final winning team V Louth 1943.
Roscommon now faced Cavan also with blue, in the All Ireland final. At Central Council it was said to Dan O’Rourke, Roscommon’s delegate that Roscommon being the ‘new’ team. Mr. O’ Rourke said that they would change the jerseys but retain the colours. Yellow/primrose dominated the jersey for the Final. Yellow with blue cuffs and collars. These are still the county colours with style adoptions. The old yellow with blue band is regarded as the alternative Roscommon jersey and has been used on a number of high profile occasions eg. All Ireland Semi-final 1977 and ’80 V Armagh. That is the story and I’m going to stick to it. This will now become the ‘authorised’ version on the topic. If it is a legend, print it anyway there are few to possibly contradict it! (May ’03).

Abbey Park; A new dawn:
The Abbey Park, Boyle, has long been associated with the playing of Gaelic games. Boyle had traditionally been a location for inter-county games for decades up to the late forties. From 1913 to 1919 there were 6 Connacht Senior football Championship games in the town; in the 20s’ there were 6 also; in the 30s’ there were 3 and in the 40s’ 5. The games in the 40s’ included the memorable draw and replay with Sligo in ’44 when Roscommon were reigning All-Ireland Champions and saw the introduction to senior ranks of Boyle’s best known player, John Joe Nerney. He won an All-Ireland medal that year and went on to win 5 Connacht Championship medals. Two other Railway Cup players played with Boyle in the early 50s’, Timmy Lynch and Dr. Bill McQuillan.
From ‘Castle Gardens’ to GAA ground:
I’ve heard of the Abbey Park being referred to as ‘the castle gardens’ as the Abbey itself was used as ‘a castle’ in post-clerical times with the adjacent area being designated as the ‘castle garden’.
In 1905 the ground passed from the land Commission to Major J.F. Murphy. Presumably before that it was part of the Rockingham lands. In 1916 it passed interestingly to a group called the ‘Boyle Improvement Co. Ltd.’. From 1929 to 1940 it was owned by James and later John Feely, who were in business in Green Street. It was available for games of note in that period but not for practise. A regular duty of some of ‘the committee’ was to seek the permission of the owners for upcoming games. This seemed to be generally and generously forthcoming. The next duty of the committee was ‘the preparation of the grounds for the upcoming match’. One of the problems, which many people will remember, is that the wall at the Abbey end was so low and above the level of the pitch that it afforded a ‘grandstand view’ without a grandstand fee. This necessitated crude improvisation to obscure this view with sheets of canvass being put in place. The Show Committee also dealt similarly with the ‘problem’.
In 1940, the property was bought by an avid GAA enthusiast, Martin Regan, from Corrigeenroe, who had a bicycle shop in Patrick Street. With the end of World War 2 and improved transport and big crowds saw the Provincial games moving towards central vested GAA venues, with greater accommodation, such as Tuam, Castlebar, Carrick-on Shannon, Ballymote and Roscommon.
Club Purchase of Abbey Park:
In 1968, the then Father Dodd purchased the grounds on behalf of the Diocese of Elphin and St. Mary’s College, Boyle. Shortly afterwards Father Dodd ‘swopped’ the Abbey Park, with, ‘The Termon and Warren Trustees’, for lands closer to the college. That the local GAA should attempt to purchase ‘the park’ was a regular issue but the it was not until the 70s’ that the necessary initiative emerged. With the goodwill of ‘The Termon and Warren Trustees’ and a dedicated and most competent committee the Abbey Park eventually became GAA property in January 1977. A considerable effort was then made to bring the grounds up to standard with levelling, draining, fencing and the provision of improved rooms. Eventually the ground was opened with an inter-county game between regular opponents of the time Roscommon and Armagh.
Contribution of club Members down the years:
Today the club caters for teams at under 10, 11, 12, 14, 16, 18, Junior and Intermediate levels. There are currently around 120 under-age players and around 40 adult players. Some of the most prominent recent players include David Casey of the current Roscommon team. Also there was Tom Ryan, Gary Wynne, Niall, Owen, Rory and Mark O’ Donohoe, Gerry Cregg, Mark McGovern, John Healy, Ml. Smith, Gerry O’ Dowd, Kit O’Connor, Sean Daly, Pat Clarke, Pat and John Nicholson, Rory Ahern, Paddy Conlon and Paddy McDermott, plus numerous minor and under-sixteens with selectors and refereeing representatives. The great Mayo star of the fifties, Ned Moriarty, is also from Boyle. On the administrative level Boyle has had its share of contributors including the current County secretary, Tom Mullaney and a most able past County Chairman, Micheal O’Callaghan. Sean Young has contributed as a County trainer.These contributions go back through Henry Feely and Jim Clarke to the first President of Roscommon GAA Jasper Tully. While this is meant as a reference and not a historical record of the Club, the role of Boyle as a great handball centre in the 30s’ with Paddy Perry, the Gaughrans, Reids and Paddy Kennedy might be mentioned.
Future Plans:
The Armagh game was 26 years ago and though a stand and additional rooms have been added the standards of today have moved on. It is now more than time that the Abbey Park be upgraded. A town the size of Boyle is expected to have grounds and facilities of a high standard. Such facilities have been developed by adjoining clubs, Ballinameen, St. Michaels and Shannon Gaels. For Boyle to reassert itself as a prime regional location for Gaelic games requires proper modern facilities. These games have been a considerable asset to the town in terms of identity, regional focus and commercial input. So in a town that is lacking in high standard recreational facilities it is of the utmost importance that this historic sports ground be returned to its previous proud position.
To this end the current committee have embarked on a vigorous and ambitious redevelopment programme. This is planed to proceed on a phased basis over a number of years and has already begun.
Phase one involves, the re configuration, levelling, draining and fencing of the existing pitch. Also there will be the provision of training lights, dug-outs, and netting. In addition to all this will be the provision of an, ‘all-weather’ training area/ juvenile pitch.
Phase Two, will provide new dressing rooms and parking. (For pitch re-opening progamme April '05).

2010-02-10T23:05:00.002Z

La na gClub May 10th 2009 (The game in the Abbey Park).

Experience of Veterans Key to Historic Victory:
The ‘Veterans’ team, captained with great skill and guile, by Jnr. Smith and coached by the evergreen Sean Young saw off a determined challenge from the ‘Apprentice Boys’ during the ‘Blue Riband’ event at La na gClub. The Veterans employed some novel and effective tactics in pursuit of glory. These included the ‘weighting’ of the left wing by playing two contrasting players in that key strategic position, Kit O’Connor and ‘Lightening’ Michael Gilmartin, a scratch player. The quiet disguising of their players as umpires and linesmen created considerable confusion in the ‘Apprentice’ ranks with Coach Young making a Kamikaze intervention at one stage. Tom Kearney was coolness personified in goals, at one stage taking time batting the ball onto the upright before clearing effectively, always finding a team mate and so initiating those sweeping downfield attacks which became a feature of their play. The cleverness of John McLoughlin, at midfield, in pretending to go for the ball but waving it on to a better placed colleague was most interesting and visually, in a sort of ballet way, disarming. The scoring threat for the 'Veterans' came from the twin tubs (towers) up front Jnr. Smith and Bernard Shannon. Bernard had an intriguing duel with ‘Apprentice’ Conor Tivnan. The score of the game was a cracking Kevin O’Connor goal which sealed victory and this afforded the luxury of a penalty miss for the ‘Veterans’ as the ball boggled on the uneven ground. In an analysis of performances suffice to say that all contributed in their own unique way and as per pre-match coaching etc. Billy Hanmore, greying hair streaming in the wind of his slipstream as he confronted opposition raids, did well, Fergal O’Donnell scored one majestic point, Vinnie Flanagan was a rock at centre back, Pat Goldrick showed he was willing to learn from the tough tackling rugby he has seen recently in Croke Park, Aidan Lavin laid aside the demands of high office when called upon, like Obama going to Burger Queen. This demonstrates that the generals can also be formidable in ‘no man’s land’. Charlie Candon was flawless, towards the end, as referee, and, after the initial resistance, showed willingness to adapt to the advice of the ‘Veteran’ spokesmen on the interpretation of rules, of which there were a few. His initial reliance on rules reminded me of what Dominick Connolly of Fuerty said to me once: "The trouble with some young referees nowadays is that they don't seem to care who wins the game!"
Returning to the game; Stephen Bohan was the subject of some very robust tackling and the tapes are being reviewed to see if any further action will be taken. Paul Beirne and Gerry Cregg basically came from nowhere to create confusion. Paul was suitably attired for the sunshine. Paul Dugnan, who cost so much on the transfer market earlier in the year, is adapting nicely and Brendan Tiernan really revels on these big occasions, though both of the latter missed the important team photograph. This may have to be reorganised at one of the functions. The Veterans led from start to finish by four points and their escape to victory was greeted with prolonged celebrations which demonstrated how much it all meant to these experienced players. (Indeed Martin Purcell was seen later proudly wearing the winner’s medal pinned to his lapel a la a GAA President). However the captain, Jnr. Smith and Vice-Captain Kit O’Connor, graciously, did visit the losing dressing room with words of encouragement and advice to the ‘Apprentices’ who were visibly shaken by the result.

A small group met afterwards in 'The Showboat Inn' and an ad hoc committee was formed to organise appropriate recognition for the achievement of the ‘Veterans’. The committee is conscious that some, though not all of the veterans, would not want an extravagent display in these straitened times. There is the possibility that members of the team will be visiting local schools and institutions, in the coming weeks, with the cup. Perhaps something like the 2006 All-Ireland winning minors. There may be a short trip through the town at some appropriate time to the sound of ‘Simply the Best’. Other possibilities include exhibition matches on other high profile days, acting as radio or T.V.analyists. Members will also be available for medal presentation ceremonies and such like (note: on a strict rota basis, as it a full panel effort, ‘one for all and all for one' kind of mantra) and of course they are now bound to be guests of honour at the Annual Dinner Dance. So we look forward to that. I know that people in New York, London and various Australian cities involved in GAA affairs read these notes religiously at mass times, so perhaps panel members might volunteer to do some promotional work, for the expansion of the games, in places like Dubai, Hong Kong, New York or Sydney. If this is a requirement all contacts are to be made through their accompanying liaison officer at: tconboy1@eircom.net.

2010-02-10T16:08:00.002Z

Castlecoote (Written some years ago, maybe as a guide for some student’s school project).
The village of Caslecoote lies about five miles west of Roscommon town on the Suck River, which is a tributary of the Shannon. It is a growing village with a long history. While the name Castlecoote comes from the landlord family of Cootes there is reference to the previous name of the area. Over the post office is a sign, which says, in Irish, ‘Baile Mhic Oireachtaigh’. This title goes back to the fourteen hundreds. Translated it means the ‘town of the Mageraghty’. If the Cootes had not come to the area it might be known today as ‘Ballygeraghty’. There are still families of that name in the area.
The Cootes: The native Geraghtys had their lands taken away during the Plantations of the fifteen hundreds and eventually the Coote family came to the area in the early 1600s. The Cootes were soldiers in the ‘9 Years War’ against O’Neill and O’Donnell. For their efforts in defeating the Old Irish Chiefs they got as payment large areas of land in various parts of the country, which can still be seen in place-names such as Cootehill in Cavan, Cootehall in North Roscommon and Castlecoote. The Cootes took over a castle which had been built by a man called Malby and they held positions of power in Connacht for the English King James 1.
The Castle; The castle was built at a bend of the river Suck. There is plenty of evidence of the castle still to be seen, with the remains of three of the corner towers still there. In the Cromwellian Wars of the 1640s’ the Cootes supported Cromwell and the Castle was attacked a number of times. These attacks failed. When the castle was not needed any more a great ‘big house’ was built in the middle of the original castle, using material from ‘the castle’. This big house is still there today. This house was built in the middle 1700s.
The Gunning Sisters; After the Cootes the next family to live there were the Gunnings. The most famous of these were two beautiful sisters, Maria and Elizabeth. Because of their beauty and the efforts of their mother they were introduced to the highest of society, first in Dublin and then in London. The result was that Maria married The Earl of Coventry and Elizabeth married the Duke of Hamilton. They had two sons. The Duke died a few years after their marriage and Elizabeth married again, this time to another Duke the Duke of Argyle. They also had two sons. So Elizabeth Gunning, of Castlecoote, was the mother of four Dukes. She was also held in high regard by the English King of the time George.The Gunning family finished their connection with Castlecoote around the 1830s. The next owners were the Mitchell family. The owned the large mill which is still there. This was mentioned as being a ‘bleach mill’, which seems to say that there was some work being done in the area with flax or linen. The next owners of the ‘big house’ were Chutes and then Strevens. The last of this family died around 1930.
Destruction and Renewal; After the War of Independence the lands attached to Castlecoote House were divided and in 1937 Pat Conboy became the owner. The Conboy family lived there until they sold the house in 1989 to a French couple. These owners began a scheme of renovation. Unfortunately while this was going on there was a great fire, which gutted the building. This happened on June 15th 1989. It seemed as if this would be the end of the Castlecoote house. It was not however as a Galway man who worked in the construction business in Manchester bought it and restored the roof. He then sold it on to Mr. Kevin Finnerty about four years ago. Mr. Finnerty has put an awful lot of work, effort, ideas and money into restoring the house to its past glory and it will soon be open to the public to visit. It is great that this has been done for the house but also for Castlecoote and indeed for county Roscommon where many big houses were pulled down in the past.
Churches and Schools: In Fuerty graveyard is the Church of Saint Ciaran. On the front of this ruin are what are known as grave slabs though their location leaves them open to erosion. They are very old. Outside this graveyard is a lovely Grotto which was erected for Marian year 1954. Not far from Fuerty, in Castlestrange where there is a famous decorated stone from the Iron Age period, known as La Tene. Close by there is a very interesting old bridge. Also opposite Fuerty graveyard there is remains of Kelly’s forge with the remains of an old Megalithic tomb opposite Brendan Kellys down the road towards Roscommon. In the village of Castlecoote is the building which was the old church. This was built around the 1830s. Then in the 1950s the Parish priest, Canon Keane, began building a new church. This was dedicated in the late fifties with great fanfare. It took a great effort by the people with money and free labour to complete this church. The old Church is now a good community centre. Our present parish Priest is Father Leogue while other priests in the past sixty years or so have been Fathers Hannelly, Molloy, Lavin and Fleming.
There were two schools, one in Fuerty and one in Castlecoote. Among the teachers there in the 1940s and fifties were, Mrs. Golden, Miss Noone, Master Moriarty in Castlecoote with Master Frawley and Maeve Dwyer in Fuerty. These two schools came together and a new one was built beside the river bridge in Castlecoote. It opened in 1960. Unlike many country schools the numbers in Castlecoote are increasing and there are efforts now to get money for an extension. The headmaster there now is Master Fallon. For secondary schools most people go to Roscommon town schools.
Sport; Sport, especially Gaelic football and hurling, has always been important in the area. Fuerty won two County Senior football Championships in 1929 and 1934. Some their best players then were Govern, Conboy, Mannion, Warde, Foley, Reddington and Daly. A Fuerty man, Willie (Bill) Heavey, won an All-Ireland senior medal with Roscommon in 1943. They had another very good team in the early fifties with the Brennans, Duke, Gately, Kelly and Golden. A lot of players also played hurling with Athleague of which we are a half-parish. Their best players in the 60s were Devine, Fannon, Cunniffe, Conboy and Kehoe. The Club was revived in the seventies and have won some junior awards since. Only last year the club got land from Mr. Brian Mulhern who was from Buckfield but has been living in New York since the 1960s’. The Club is now starting to work on it and hope to have a good playing ground and facilities for the future. The present Chairman is a neighbour; Seamus Cuddy. This is only a short distance from where I live. Two people from the area are now county Board Officers, Dominick Connolly is Treasurer and Canon Liam Devine is P. R. O. He also writes weekly in The Roscommon Herald. Tony Conboy wrote ‘The History of the GAA in County Roscommon’, which came out in 1990. My area has also been very active in Community Games with people like Noel Farrell and Kevin Delaney as trainers.
Fishing and Tourism; The area has the river Suck running through it for miles. This is a very good fishing river with the small lakes beside it. Many people have been coming from England foe years to fish. They stay in local guest- houses such as Galvin’s and Golden’s. A few years ago, a long walk along the banks of the river Suck, was opened up. This is called The Suck Way. Also in Athleague there is an Angling Centre set up in a restored old Church.
Work; The main occupation of the area has been farming. The land generally is good. Cattle and sheep rearing have been the main incomes. Years ago there were fairs in Fuerty. In the late fifties a creamery collecting depot was set up at Athleague so a good few farmers sold milk to this. Later a meat factory was also set up there so many farmers were able to sell their stock to the factory and this was very handy. The factory also gave much needed employment. The other employers are ‘the Mill’ which is now mainly a farm supply store and Brendan Kelly’s, where such things as iron gates and so on are put together. Most of the people work in nearby towns such as Roscommon or go to Galway or Dublin. In the fifties the only chance of getting work was in leaving the country altogether and hundreds left my area for England, the U.S. and even Australia. Thankfully this is not necessary today. Indeed a good few people have come back from England especially in the recent ‘Celtic tiger’ years.
Social: There was an old Hibernian hall on ‘the New Road’ where concerts and plays were held years ago. There were also Carnivals in Fuerty in the sixties. There are three pubs in the area, Dalton’s in Fuerty, Reilley’s on ‘the new Road’ and Cattigan’s in the village. Cattigan’s was owned, until a few months ago, by Goldens and Ennis, before that by Carton and back further by Hughes. It was a thatched pub then across the road from where it is now. Hughes also had a shop but this changed place and was owned by Delaney and was taken over by Oscar Neilan. This is also where the Post Office is and where my account of the village of Castlecoote began and also ends. It is a good place with good people and I find it a nice place to live.

2010-02-10T16:07:00.000Z

The M 50 Challenge (July ’09):
Recently I came from North County Dublin along the M 50. Now I am about reasonable in my capacity in dealing with the challenges of motorways but the M 50, of the moment, is not for wimps. The initial challenge is to get on the M 50 in the first place. This isn’t a new challenge to me. Anytime I come from Dublin airport it presents itself. On that large round-about which accesses the M 50 the only really helpful sign is that denoting Malahide. This tells me ‘don’t take that one’. Then usually, but not always, by a process of elimination, I have found myself on the M 50 sometimes going in the right direction! In any event last week I arrived close to where the old M50 toll bridge was and there was a plethora of signs. One would need to have a pull over area to stop and assess the situation but with an obviously regular user on my backside and in a hurry; I had to make my decisions on the hoof. (Naively I still thought there might be a physical toll allowing for ‘culchies’ like myself, not so). I whizzed through and knew that the N 4 turn-off was close at hand. However the first N4 Sligo/Galway sign seemed to be contradicted by another some fifty or so metres further on. I used to be indecisive but now I’m not so sure and by the time I had processed the situation I was past all N4 options and heading for Tallaght and the sea. I feared I might find myself on the Red Cow rollercoaster so I got off at the first opportunity, with the help of legerdemain gymnastics. One of these decisions meant advancing on a V of bollards and holding my flight path in such a way that it afforded a left or right option until the last moment. (Do not try to copy this procedure). Eventually I got off the M 50, and like a donkey after a day on the bog, I cruised back west of the Shannon as the blood pressure receded.
Part two of the little saga came when I investigated methods of payment, not trusting that I might get a first offender’s pardon. If you are a regular user you can ‘set up an account’. I feel that, at the moment, I have enough of those, so ‘tinternet’ was the next option. With the help of a consultant this was achieved and so the trip was assigned to history or folklore. But no! A few days later I received a letter to say I still owed three euro. Apparently I had not paid within the twenty four hours given. Why this was not relayed to me when paying the first moiety remains unclear. I pursued the issue over the phone and having played Sudoku on the numerals eventually got a human, if pretty unsympathetic, voice and the huge transaction for three Euros was finalised.
I am not an expert on the workings of the M 50 and I don’t intend trying a Panorama investigation but I got the feeling that the over time payment was one of the bonuses of the whole set up. Apparently you can pre-pay, pay at garages when you come off the toll road or pay locally. The nearest local agent has been Gerry Mullaney’s of Croghan who had the payzone system used by the M 50 toll operators in his premises for years. Only last week Carty’s garage of Boyle came on stream as a pay option. The other ones listed on the internet for County Roscommon are as follows: O’Connor’s of Ballinlough, Coyle Bros. Ballyleague, Super Valu, Ballaghaderreen, Ashview Service Station and Lyons ‘Mace’, Castlerea; Corrib Oil, Racecourse Road and Eason’s, The Square, Roscommon; Londis Tarmonbarry. Certainly the traffic flows much better now on that M 50 but if you are a little nervy it might be advisable to do a pre-journey recce, in the quiet of the night, to get the lie of the land. But it is still a different and challenging channel at high tide.

2010-02-04T22:23:00.007Z

“We should have stood in bed” (Used in Boyle GAA Blog Feb. '10)
Three or Four
The above was the response of a New York boxing manager one time when his fighter was ‘robbed’ of a decision in Italy. Once more, a little like the Mary Celeste, I guided Tida through the intermittent fog, of a late January evening, on my way to a County G.A.A. meeting. It was in Roscommon town, always Roscommon town. My earliest such meetings were in the early sixties in Fahey’s Bar in Goff Street. They obviously have an allure, which is hard to shake off, with me! This was a Fixtures analysis meeting in the offices of the board and how the Championships might be run in 2010. The Fixtures Committee had produced a working paper with various ideas and choices. It was a long agenda, much too long as it turned out. There were three options as to the structures for the coming year's Championships for Intermediate and Senior. The options were really down to the number of teams per group; three, four or six. You’d imagine that this debate wouldn’t become almost as intractable as Northern Ireland talks. The Chairman had set down a time parameter of two hours for the discussion. From his professional experience he was well acquainted with the attention span of his audience. I thought, from my own previous life’s experience, that it was a somewhat generous time span, even for serial GAA meeting attendees. Anyway, of course, it was ignored. The existing three-group-option was more or less ignored, for the most part, in the debate. Despite the eloquent and passionate promotion of the six-team option by the Strokestown delegate, Sean, it seemed a few bridges too far for the delegates. “We’ll take our beating, as we always do” Sean concluded magnanimously as the six-group option failed to gather momentum. Something like an hour and a half was spent on the four-team option and it looked, for much of the time, ‘a no brainer’ as they say in investment circles! It seemed to have certain reasonable logical arguments in its favour such as teams fielding on the same day, the avoidance of long time lapses between games and the earlier beginning of the Junior Championship. The Chairman also tipped the hat in its direction. The storm clouds began to appear when another important official extolled the virtue of our championships and the way we run them. In this we were apparently ‘light years ahead of Meath’. We didn’t puff out our chests as we might, being sceptical. At next winter’s solstice I’ll be on the look out. Boyle had experienced the three team option last year and it was not a totally happy experience. As the debate entered the final furlong, and a vote was about to be called, a hurling official was asked what he thought and responded, somewhat along the lines of; ‘If you go for this option then it will destroy the hurling championship’. This was a pretty weighty contribution at such a late point of the debate and must have shaken the hurling vote out of its slumbers. In one sentence, the vote, regarded as being in the area of three-appropriately- for the three team option, slid, like the gold in ‘The Italian Job’ bus to the other end of the spectrum. Anyway, a dishevelled vote was taken with 27 for groups of three and 26 for the groups of four, as far as I remember. The ‘Status Quo’ survived. I thought, but of course didn’t say, that in such a close scenario a written vote might be better. Anyway I was conscious of the number of my interjections already and that it would be inappropriate to over contribute. I was now, 'not waving but drowning'.
A further complicated, if shorter and sharper, debate took place on the make-up of the last two quarter finalists. Apparently ‘scoring difference’ is a rule from on high and if you do not have a degree in GAA legal science regarding rules etc. you are at a distinct disadvantage here. While rule books floated hither and thither along the front bench I hadn’t brought mine but scribbled a note to myself that I would have to get an updated version and have it very visible at the next meeting a la Mr. Bean. I was really just a substitute delegate on this occasion. We actually await a ‘ruling’ from on high- Croke Park- regarding the status of the ‘scoring difference’.
Then there were questions of trying to reduce postponements especially using minor excuses to gain them. This too got holed below the waterline, will need serious redrafting and is now in the aspirational tray.
Status Quo:
A discussion on the O’Rourke and O’Gara Cups was next on the agenda. I suggested that the top team be declared the winner. This was on the basis that Boyle has been top of the league proper around three times in the last decade or so but due to the requirement of having to play a semi-final, and, if won, a final, have not actually won the O’Gara Cup on those occasions. It was late now and the Chairman’s 7.30 fears of concentration becoming shredded were coming to pass. Promotion and relegation was another issue. The Status Quo was coming into its own. Top two winners up, bottom two ‘loosing’ (as per ovehead projection) teams down, with the third from bottom in Division One meeting the third from top in Division Two, stayed in place.
The Chairman’s initial fears about issues of this importance not getting their due had come to pass.
Cut and Thrust:
A Clann na Gael delegate got a grenade response from an otherwise benign Fuerty delegate, Dominick, when the Clann man complained about the comfort zone of Fuerty pitch especially for the elderly supporter at double headers. ‘A Clann official begged us in Fuerty to take the match’ Dominick responded. There was the undercurrent of, 'if you come with the begging bowl again, in the foreseeable future, it may be passed along'. In fairness though a week is long time in GAA politics also.
Even the distinguished fraternal delegate, to the ruling Central Council, also met with a volley when he took a look across 'no man's land' finding it stoutly occupied. He was supporting ideas on restricting the County Junior team. Indeed he was having difficulty with the politburo of the Central Council, in the distant capital, in having a very worthy policy idea advanced, regarding improving the lot of the proletariat club player.
Hanging On:
The meeting ended at around 10.30 and for some reason I had a headache. I tried to reduce the testing drive home to the hills by latching on-at a safe distance of course-to a car in front to enable an easier driving challenge in the fog. However they always seemed to be driving a few miles too fast for me and one productive spell ended with the lead car, disappointingly, turning towards Elphin at Shankhill. The idea came into my head that the fog was just a metaphor for the whole evening. The New York boxing manager's claim had a good deal of merit.

John Joe Nerney

2010-01-14T20:49:00.004Z

One of Roscommon’s Greats:
(Published in the 1998 Roscommon G.A.A. Annual. For the most part it is in his own words)
“Old soldiers never die they just fade away”, was most famously quoted by the U.S. General Douglas McArthur on his retirement.
John Joe Nerney, now at the venerable age of 77 and a former soldier of ‘The Emergency’ in the forties has little intention of fading away as the sprightly bouncy step belies his years. Even now John Joe has been going through his paces as he jogs the roads of Boyle or does his circuits of the Abbey Park. He completed half a dozen marathons including the early Dublin City ones his last being in 1988.
It is however as part of the great Roscommon team of the 40s’ that John Joe is constantly associated. He has no hesitation in confirming that widely held belief that it was one of the greatest sides ever in Gaelic football. We will let him tell his story.
“There were powerful men on that team, Jackson, Lynch, Callaghan, Carlos, Gilmartin, Hoare, Kinlough and Boland, a great man. There was not a weak link. They kinda carried me! Jamesie was a great player and a great captain. They were all great.
If you looked back down the field and saw the power of the half back line of Lynch, Carlos, Felim Murray or Owensie Hoare you would get great confidence and then Gilmartin and Boland were never beaten. I passed a lot, especially to Keenan, he was the scorer-in-chief. Up front you had McQuillan battling, in every sense of the word, with Keohane of Kerry. They were both army men then. Kinlough was a great player. He did not train much but he got the goals.
I came on in Boyle in the ’44 Connacht Championship replay and got a great reception from the locals. We should have won any number of All-Irelands with those teams. After the ’43 and ’44 double we were caught on the hop in ’45 by Mayo but I feel we were at our peak in ’46. The late goals gave Kerry a draw in the final were heartbreaking. They were great games though and Kerry were great sports, win or lose.
In ’47 we might have got to New York for the Polo Grounds final but Cavan just beat us in eh semi-final. They took off Tom Collins and Cavan’s Tony Tighe played hell after that.
Mayo came with a great team then but we shocked them in ’52 and should have beaten Meath in the semi-final. O’Malley, Eamon Donoghue and Frank Kelly were there and Boland was as strong as ever. We did not have any luck in ’53 either in the semi-final against Armagh. Boland and myself finished playing County in ’54. We had a good run. I got on for a while for Connacht against Leinster in the ’53 Railway Cup, when it meant something. I also played centre field a few times and once at wing back where I marked Frank Stockwell of Galway. I did alright!
At Club level I played with Boyle. We had some good battles especially with St. Michaels. Fuerty beat us in a county junior final. We had a tough couple of games with Eoghan Ruadhs, of Roscommon town, in Castlerea. It’s history now. I remember I was pleased with scoring a goal from a free against Strokestown in a game. Tom Shevlin was annoyed. The great Boyle clubmen then were Martin Regan, Mickey Morris, Joe Sheehan, Peter Phelan and Jimmy Sheeran among others.
We won county minor championships in ’38 and ’39 and I was a sub on the Roscommon All-Ireland minor winning team of ’39. Oddly my memory of that is hazy.
I played as long as I could for Boyle because I was fit and I enjoyed playing (John Joe played well into his fifties). I got great satisfaction training Eastern Harps when they won the ’75 Sligo, Championship.
We did not hear much back then of hamstrings and such. They might have been something to do with fiddles for all we knew. All we seemed to get were sore knees. We worked hard, walked or cycled most places so that helped. Wintergreen was our rub. The football was tough but fair. It’s faster now but we had our tactics too, the famous L.T.B.L. (keep the ball low) during one of our collective training periods in the old Infirmary (now the County Library). We had great comradeship. We are still friends and meet from time to time. I enjoyed ’91 when we were the team saluted in Croke Park. We have been well treated down the years”.
I ask how he feels talking to reporters about those times; “I don’t say much just send them to Jimmy Murray. He is still the Captain and spokesman, a great ambassador for the team. We all looked up to him and it hasn't changed. A couple of years ago I was invited down to Killarney’s Legion club where I met my marker from ’46 Dinny Lynne. We are both President’s of our clubs. Some other great times were had when Boyle went to Birmingham, London and Manchester. I remember playing with Roscommon, in Mitcham I think, London. Boland and I missed the return train for some reason! A lot of games were played for church building funds and we helped build a good few churches then! One of them was a great game, in late ‘45 for the Pro-Cathedral against the ’45 All-Ireland winners Cork. We won that one. Jack Lynch would have been playing for Cork. We had another big one against Kerry for the Liam Gilmartin fund in ’46. I think that was Gerry O’Malley’s first game for Roscommon. I don’t know why he wasn’t there in ’47. Maybe we’d have been in the Polo Grounds if he was! Did I mention Harry Connor and Paddy Kenny from Ballinameen and Doctor Gibbons?”
John Joe was born in Croghan on April 1st (a cause of amusement) 1922 and on the death of his father the family moved to Ballinameen and then to Boyle. He attended Boyle National School to masters Kennedy, Jordan and Mannion. After school he worked at a variety of jobs such as the County Council and ‘The Railway’. He joined the army in 1943 during The Emergency’ and won the ‘Army Chaplains Cup’ competition while in Athlone. After the army he joined the Post Office where he remained for over forty years clocking up the miles. He married Agnes Lane in 1958. They have a family of two girls Mary and Theresa and three boys, Gerry, Anthony and Raymond. Gerry and Raymond played county minor for Roscommon.
John Joe is a modest man who does not like to push his own contribution and from time to time says, ‘don’t print that they might think I’m bragging’. However he is not one to let the side down either and I often think, though I’ve talked to him quite a few times, that there is a tinge of devilment somewhere and that I have failed to get past his defences. The games are still being played as he steps jauntily away with a twinkle in his eyes.
In any event we of Boyle had our representative, our football hero, in that team of football heroes. John Joe would not want that accolade but he is a constant reminder that one of our own strode Croke Park with the very best.

In Memory Of My Father

2010-01-09T21:34:00.002Z

(June 14th 2009)
Though he died over thirty six years ago it seems as if I am still getting to know him. I should have done it then of course but it wasn’t fashionable and I was a younger member of the family. Also I felt I knew a lot more then than I do now. In getting to grips with my father he seems to slip through my fingers. I could not but say that he was a solid, hard-working, farming man. When he arrived at the scene of a problem the rest of us stood back we were confident that he had the answers. Invariably he had. I know now that having the answers wasn’t quite so simple. He was never demanding or commanding. Indeed he was, for a man of his background, deferential. His solution might be pretty straight forward and we would wonder why we hadn’t thought it through. The answer was from his store of experience. He had his weaknesses of course and it surprises me, in a naïve way I suppose, that a genuinely solid and sensible kind of man drank too much. But I’m not here now to talk of weaknesses. I have many images of him and think of how the poet Patrick Kavanagh, so effectively remembered his parents in his poetry, particularly his Mother and more obliquely his father in his poem ‘In Memory of My Father’; ‘Every old man I see in October coloured weather seems to say to me I was once your father’. It doesn’t happen thus often to me but I can easily recall pictures of my father at his best. I can see him in the tillage field with the knapsack sprayer on ‘the barrel’s edge poised’ as he sprayed the potatoes. He was skilled in the bog with the slean slicing the turf sods or with the shears snipping at sheep-shearing. He is in the hay-field, in his latter days, winding the hay ropes or in that period also when he had graduated to the end of the threshing machine where he bagged the grain. His forte was in harvesting, from the smaller fairs of Creggs, Ballygar and such places, his kind of cattle which he brought together like a football team for the big fairs held in Roscommon town. In a sense I can only post a flavour of the growing number of pictures, as they drift back, for these paragraphs.
We shared a number of lesser things like the adventures of the Cisco Kid in The Irish Press, and occasional articles on World War Two, like Stalingrad, in the Sunday Press. I seem to remember, in his company, the radio programme ‘The Ballad Makers Saturday Night’ though I shouldn’t go back that far and listening to the Derry Boxer, Billy Kelly, being robbed by the referee’s decision against Ray Famechon. He sang regularly from his small stock of songs such as; ‘I Dream of Jennie’, ‘The Galway Shawl’, ‘Noreen Bawn’ and ‘Lovely Derry on the Banks of the Foyle’ and enjoyed Moore’s Melodies and John McCormack. He had been part of the Independence movement but spoke little of it. He was ‘a county footballer’ and followed the fortunes of Roscommon from a distance but rarely came to watch us play, which was a disappointment. I accompanied him to his last Roscommon match in Ballinasloe, around 1969, against Galway, when they did particularly badly. ‘Shadows on the wall’ he repeated as we headed back to the car in the Fair Green. There was a dividend in being the son of Pat Conboy. It’s a little ironic that I wrote about Roscommon football and the Independence conflict later and had so little information from him, who had been so involved, on those subjects. Before he went to Roscommon hospital for the first and last time, early in 1973, he had his last drink in Warde’s in Goff Street. He did not seem so ill that he was to pass away within a week. I could have stayed and been by his hospital bedside when he died and of course I regret that. Inexcusably I was to repeat that mistake later. I don’t know what he’d have made of the tricolour on his coffin and the volley of shots which were fired at his graveside. I didn’t rail against his death as Dylan Thomas did in ‘Do not go gently into the dark night’ but I missed him and would have particularly liked him to be around for some big occasions later in my life.
Next Sunday is Father’s Day so maybe some of you might meet up with your own dad in an ‘accidentally on purpose’ kind of way. Perhaps it will be in his local as opposed to yours and you could stay with him and not be impatient in rushing off to see your own friends. Make sure this time that you buy the extra drink in three. Perhaps you could ask him about some story, you’ve heard a number of times before, as if it were new. Maybe you could ask his opinion on something. He’d like that. Just make time, because it may surprise you that he’s probably your best buddy. In his mind he has wisdom to dispense from the well of life’s experience and your wellbeing is very important to him. Engage and be patient even if it is slightly challenging. Years hence you may remember the modest occasion and feel pleased by your awareness in making it happen.

2010-01-09T21:30:00.001Z

Derry City, ‘Where Hope and History Rhyme’
(April 2007).
Just a few short miles over the Donegal border lies a very different Irish City, Derry the Maiden City. It is a unique City, a city in transition, recovering from great traumas where today the mood is one of hope. Anything else is too despairing to contemplate. History and its legacy seeps, perhaps weeps, from its walls. My visit was supposed to be just ‘a break’ not a polemic, but immediately I was enveloped by history and the underlying shadows of mood and resonance. They are unavoidable, they are in the air. One needs to get some idea of this City’s story to get some understanding of what is in train.

The High Walls of Derry:
In other cities like York and Chester their walls are now elaborate, impressive features of a bygone age but in Derry they are an enveloping, perhaps smothering, tapestry of history.
Derry is a Plantation City from the early 1600s’ when it was enclosed by its Walls. During the War between William of Orange and King James the city declared for William and when a force for King James arrived to occupy it, a group of ‘Apprentices’ closed the gates declaring ‘No Surrender’, a term which echoes down the centuries. There followed the Siege of Derry from December 1688 to August 1689 which was broken when a number of supply ships managed to get through.
Derry became one of the great ports of emigration from the North West region through the 1900s’. As a consequence of the Treaty settlement of 1921, Derry, a predominantly Nationalist City, came to be ruled by Stormont and by a Unionist dominated City Council, through gerrymandering and manipulation of the voting system. This also led to strident discrimination on many levels. Some former students will remember Seamus Deane’s bleak portrayal of those decades in ‘Reading in the Dark’. During the Second World War, Derry played a significant part in ‘The Battle of the Atlantic’, against the German U Boat threat. It also acted as a base for thousands of Americans. With post-war education and the example of the American Civil Rights Movement the mood for change and the fight for equality emerged with the Northern Ireland Civil Rights Movement. However those in power were not willing to make concessions. More radical young people revived the near dormant I.R.A. This led to what is referred to as ‘The Troubles’ but what the radicals readily describe as a ‘War’ with the dominant Unionist majority backed up by the British authorities. While there are many sad markers since the late sixties, ‘Bloody Sunday’, on January 30th, 1972 stands out. On that day, in the Bogside area of Derry, 13 people were killed by the British Army.

On a plaque on The Walls overlooking the site of Bloody Sunday are inscribed telling lines by Seamus Heaney:
“My heart besieged by anger, my mind a gap of danger
I walked among their old haunts, the home ground where they bled
And in the dirt lay justice like an acorn in the winter
‘Til its oak would sprout in Derry, where the thirteen men lay dead”

Derry Today:
The Bogside:
This is an area outside and overlooked by The Walls. It is a Catholic area which through discrimination has been economically deprived.
With the current peace process firmly in place, outsiders are calling to Derry. I did the City bus tour with Australians and ‘The Walls’ with Canadians. In The City Cemetery, on the slopes of The Creggan Hill, I visited the burial place of the victims of Bloody Sunday. I had been at their funerals over thirty five years ago.
I walked the area of the atrocity in the Bogside, now marked with memorials, hoping I was not just a voyeur. A number of the surrounding walls are covered with Murals, by the Bogside Artists Group, relating the story and struggle of the people from this area. Here also is the iconic remaining gable of a building inscribed with, ‘You Are Now Entering Free Derry.” Nearby ‘The Museum of Free Derry’ endorses the theme. It is a pity that this tragic site is traversed by a busy motorway.

A Fine Museum of Contemporary History:
The new Tower Museum, underneath The Walls (everything is beneath The Walls) tells the city’s story in a concise and understandable way. A large section illustrates a history which is of our time and which has impacted on our lives and consciousness. The two trenchant strands of the City’s story are delicately balanced. Indeed balance and middle ground is a present and future challenge. This is most evocatively represented by a sculpture of two figures with outstretched hands almost touching. The hope is that those hands will, in the not too distant future, touch as a symbol of final and lasting reconciliation.
The Tower Museum, which I recommend strongly, was being ‘Officially’ opened when I was there. While waiting to enter I met Bishop Edward Daly the handkerchief- waving priest of Bloody Sunday. Also present was Mark Durkin, leader of the SDLP, an honourable Party of the centre, the Party of Hume and Mallon, now marginalised by the ungrateful and forgetful. The centre didn’t hold.

Distinguished Citizens:
Derry has a number of notable alumni through the years and especially in recent times. St. Columb’s College can uniquely boast two Nobel Laureates in Seamus Heaney, from Bellaghy, and John Hume whose name is entwined with the history of modern Derry.
In literature it can nominate Brian Friel and Seamus Deane though I saw no obvious reference to them.
It also has a proud musical heritage with a Eurovision winner from 1970 in Dana (Rosemary Browne) and a notable composer of songs such as ‘Ireland’s Call’, in Phil Coulter. The original script of his iconic song, ‘The Town I loved So Well’ adorns a Museum display. Outside The City Hotel, where I stayed, was a copper sculpture remembering Joseph Locke (or his real name Joseph McLaughlin) and Hear My Song. Some people might even remember a group called The Undertones’.
It has its sporting heroes too especially in boxing with the Kelly family, Charlie Nash and currently John Duddy.
Derry City is a successful soccer Club while nearby is the GAA’s Celtic Park both in the Brandywell.
A number of fine sculptures are by Maurice Harron who is responsible for ‘The Chieftain’ sculpture, between Boyle and Sligo, on The Curlew Hills which I see from my window. Mister Harron taught in Roscommon town for a number of years in the seventies and early eighties. His most significant piece is to be seen in the centre of a Derry City round-about. It is of the two figures, with outstretched hands nearly touching, representing the coming closer of the communities. Continuing this theme the Dove of Peace is to be seen in a Bogside Mural and in a small Waterside Peace Park. The Waterside is a staunchly Unionist area east of the river Foyle. Interestingly west of the river there is a small Unionist enclave, visible from The Walls, called The Fountain. It is readily identifiable from its Murals, Union Flag and the red, white and blue kerb stones. Oddly there was little or no flag-waving of either hue.

Competing Spires;
Towering over the west side of the city is the spire of St. Eugene’s while dominating the skyline from within The Walls is St. Columb’s Cathedral with its defensive features. In its grounds is a monument to ‘The Siege Heroes.’ There are many churches of various denominations. The angle-grinding dismantler of the last British army bastion graciously gave space to the Guide as he suggested that, ‘there are not many old buildings in the City due to the bombing campaign down the years. At one time over sixty percent of the buildings in the city were affected through bombing” mentioning one as, ‘the most bombed building in Europe’ and referring to some rioting activity as, ‘recreational rioting’ or ‘the standard Derry riot’ of times hopefully past. Words like hope emerge regularly. Then we continued along The Walls with their impressive array of canons and the tales of Walker and Lundy, Apprentice Boys, the burning of effigies, humiliation and provocation. The army is no longer ‘installed by that old gas yard wall’. The Guildhall seems empty now that the Saville Enquiry, into Bloody Sunday, has ended.

Reaching Out:
Like Maurice Harron’s reconciliation sculpture perhaps it is time for us too to reach out and by visiting communicate our tangible support for this new era and direction.
It will take a considerable length of time for Derry to recover and arrive at the bustling note of say, a giddy Galway. Many big employers are gone and investors have heretofore been wary. Unemployment is high at a reported fifteen per cent with some social employment acting as a safety net. Oddly housing prices are very high where there has been a dramatic increase in more recent years than ours. McGee College has finally been given the status of a University as a constituent of The University of Ulster a status long and controversially denied. There are a number of fine hotels including The City Hotel, which was opened in 2002 by Sir Reg Empey of the then ‘Power-Sharing Executive’. It was developed, I was informed, by a group of city business-men with the opening plaque denoting grant aid from a variety of agencies National, E.U and U.S. While the street shops have yet to blossom there is the fine Foyleside Shopping Centre. There is an impressive entertainment venue in The Millennium Forum. Twin bars Peadar O’Donnell’s and The Gweedore Bar offer regular, if loud, music. I was told there are plenty of fine restaurants but some, like The Exchange, are shy and may be missed in a short visit. While the City has a number of generous open areas such as The Diamond, Guildhall Square and Waterloo Place there is no defined heart as such. Finding the Tourist Information Centre is a worthwhile challenge. The Bus Tour was not as fulfilling as The Walking Tour.
The people are welcoming and pleased to see visitors. I am certain that the tourist industry will be one of considerable growth. I left Derry, driving across the lower deck of Craigavon Bridge. If one stretched metaphors perhaps this acted as a contrast to the clear perspective from the new Foyle Bridge. In any event I was pleased I’d come back and I departed with a much to reflect on;

“History says, don’t hope
On this side of the grave,
But then, once in a lifetime
The longed for tidal wave
of justice can rise up,
and hope and history rhyme”
(Seamus Heaney, Doubletake from The Cure at Troy)

2010-01-09T21:07:00.002Z

Kells...The Secret of:
(From February 2009)

The Saturday vision of cameras carried through with me to Sunday evening as I trod the red carpet at the premiere of Paul Young’s animated film ‘The Secret of Kells’ at the Savoy cinema in Dublin. Paul Young is the son of Sean and Anne Young of Boyle. With Tom Moore they run an animation studio in Kilkenny called Cartoon Saloon. They are responsible for a current series, which young people may be familiar with called Skunk Fu. However 'The Secret of Kells’ is a huge endeavour which has been in the making for a number of years. On Sunday evening we assembled in the Gresham Hotel, which, with the competition in hotel pricing, plebs such as I can now enter. There many of those involved in the film gathered. The Young family were out in force with Sean and Anne, their children, Joseph, Liam, Katherine, Aileen and the grandchildren and other family members. There also were two of the principal voices, of the films characters, Brendan Gleeson and Mick Lally. Then it was time to transfer to the nearby cinema. A battery of paparazzi was on hand to record the entrance of Messrs Gleeson, Lally and the other principals. I kept a discreet distance and then like a corner forward made the mistake of scurrying over the red carpet instead of doing a slow deliberate walk and milking the moment. Finally the film hit the screen. I was more than a little anxious that the film was good and well received. In describing the film subsequently I arrived at a one line response which I repeated a number of times in the post film discussions; “The Book of Kells is one of the great works of art, this film is also a work of art". The finale was met with sustained applause.

In summary the film is based around the production of the final part of The Book of Kells by a young Brother Brendan under the guidance of Brother Aidan (voiced by Mick Lally). Brother Brendan needs an extra empowering dimension to enable him to be able to do this –the secret - and survives adventures in its acquisition while constantly drawing down the wrath of his superior brother abbot who is preoccupied with building a defensive wall for the community, in anticipation of a destructive Viking raid. The Abbot superior is initially afraid to embrace the beauty of the book. All this activity is enhanced with a strong theme music and magical graphics. I have to draw the veil over the film’s progress so you will have to pursue the secret yourself. It is said of the Book of Kells, that it was produced, not by man, but by angels. Its trauma of its birth is well represented by the artists of Cartoon Saloon.

Afterwards it was on to a post film reception in the Long Library of Trinity College, once the home of the Book of Kells for over four hundred years. A new custom adapted exhibition area is now its home adjacent to the library. If this film gains the broad distribution that it deserves then Trinity College should benefit in terms of visitor numbers as is the case where successful films have raised profiles. This is an Irish film produced by Irish artists of whom we can be proud. That pride is multiplied by the fact that we know these people. Another interested party, the Mayor of Kells, was also present with his chain of office drawing the welcoming curiosity.

Brendan Gleeson on Monday’s R.T.E. afternoon Seoige Show commended the film as follows: “It is stunning to look at and may be something of an antidote to the present times. It shows what we are creatively capable of and now what the movie-going public need to do is to support that effort, in their own way, by just going to see it”.

Perhaps we will have a local premiere in nearby Carrick-on-Shannon. In any event it was great to be part of the launch of The Secret of Kells and smile as one’s name rolled on the extended credits!

Brendan Gleeson

2010-01-08T15:58:00.002Z

(October 2009)
In talking to the actor Brendan Gleeson the terms ‘generosity of spirit’, ‘integrity’ and ‘making the right choices’ crop up pretty often. Brendan has, like us all probably, had to make a number of life-changing choices in his road ‘less travelled’. He has now arrived at an elevated level in his chosen acting career. His generosity of spirit was exemplified in his giving me an interview which he might have given to more luminous commentators. I have been friendly with Brendan for many years and this was a token of that friendship. Brendan has been coming to the Boyle area for over thirty years. When I asked him how this happened he explained thus; “ I was into music and had been down the country a number of times and wanted to explore new horizons. At that time I was working for the Health Board in Dublin and asked a Roscommon lady working with me if she knew of an area where there was music and she nominated Boyle. I went down and discovered Grehans and the Ceili House Bar and I have been coming since. I found an openness, a generosity of spirit and a welcome that might not be present everywhere, especially for a Dub! I tapped into that and have made very good friends in Boyle”. Here he pursues one of his passions playing music with his local musical friends. So Boyle has continued to be a place to recharge the batteries between high profile projects.
I first asked Brendan about his most recent project, for which he won an Emmy award in Los Angeles in September. That was playing Winston Churchill in the Home Box Office (H.B.O.) film ‘Into the Storm’. This depicted Churchill’s time as British Prime Minister during World War Two. It posed an interesting challenge since Brendan had given an outstanding performance in playing, an earlier nemesis of Churchill, Michael Collins. This was in the Irish T.V. Series ‘The Treaty’ in the early nineties.
His reaction to the Emmy award was that; “It was a bit of a surprise but because of the number of nominations it got I felt we were in with a shout. You also have to consider the quality of the other actors who were nominated and who I admire greatly, Kevin Bacon, Kevin Kline, Sir Ian McKellan, Kenneth Brannagh and Kiefer Sutherland. To take one, Kevin Bacon is a great actor and one I admire greatly. He makes brilliant choices”. ‘Choice’ is a word that crops up from time to time in our conversation. In his Emmy acceptance speech he expressed his particular appreciation to the film’s producer Frank Doelger for allowing him to show an early print to his mother who was ill and has since passed away. She was a great influence in Brendan’s ‘choices’
I asked Brendan about the lesser known traits in the Churchill character that he became aware of. “Taking on the character of Churchill was challenging perhaps because of our history and his role in it. People have their own images of him. He was a bully of sorts, a completely different class, age and mindset. He was almost everything I wasn’t. He drank a lot, worked through the night….he was an extraordinary mixture. His wife Clementine was his confidante. He was an actor, journalist author. He had made big mistakes and hadn’t distinguished himself, in relation to Ireland for example, earlier in his career. But he had been warning about Hitler and this was his time. He gave the people a trust that defeat wasn’t in his equation of prospects. It is noteworthy also how he accepted the defeat in ’45 in saying that ‘This (democracy) is what we fought for’. He was such a contradictory man. He lived by his lights. Yet for me there was the challenge and that is what is involved in acting. It presented a new arena”. The film is due to be shown on BBC in the near future.
Of course the project close to Brendan’s heart is transferring the quality of the Flann O’Brien book ‘At Swim-Two-Birds’ to film. This is a project which Brendan is passionate about. This becomes evident in his demeanour as describes its initial influence on him when he first read it at seventeen and ‘rolled out of bed at its anarchic humour’. In talking to Brendan there are moments when his own great sense of humour is accompanied by his infectious laughter. He has enlisted the interest of the Irish actors guild in terms of Colin Farrell, Gabriel Byrne and Cillian Murphy. They’ve had a preliminary reading and gelled so next year holds out the hope of advancing the idea to completion.
Brendan likes to do at least one piece of artistic merit what might be referred to as challenging piece of work each year whereas he refers to his role as Mad Eyed Moody in the Harry Potter series in lighter fun terms. He is no snob in terms of work however and talks kindly of his early encounter with Hollywood scale in the film ‘Far and Away’ and the plastic cobble stones in Temple Bar before the real ones were installed.
Another work which he refers to in glowing terms is ‘The Secret of Kells’ the Cartoon Saloon (Kilkenny) animated feature which was released earlier in ’09.This too has Boyle connections with one of its producers Paul Young coming from the town. Brendan with Mick Lally provide the voiceovers for two of the main characters. He refers to it as; “Absolutely brilliant, a massive achievement and so rooted in what we can do well”.
In Bruges has been a great hit and apparently is now at the status of a cult movie. This has propelled Brendan more into the public limelight which he finds a little uncomfortable but is as he says; “The price for doing what I love to do”. In Boyle, however, his privacy is respected and he appreciates that and it is among the reasons why he continues to visit the area.
Brendan is firmly rooted in Dublin’s north side. He played Gaelic football for St. Finian’s and is a great supporter of ‘the Dubs’. He became a teacher and was heavily involved in semi-professional theatre for years. Indeed he has built up a really impressive catalogue of varied work. All this involvement meant that a serious career choice had to be made by Brendan who was then in his middle thirties and in a ‘secure’ teaching position. With the encouragement of his wife Mary he took the leap into full time acting and ensured that he “was going to make it happen and not wait for it to happen”. He has not looked back since.
Brendan Gleeson has that great presence, a fine sense of the ‘anarchic’ highlighted often by a fulsome laugh which demonstrates an obvious zest for life. He is an intelligent man with a great sense and love of his country, a country which frustrates him at times. He has articulated those frustrations very publically and effectively on occasion. Yet he reiterates the importance of the arts especially at this time and of returning or continuing to do what we do well and for which we as people are so regarded. However it is the work, the challenge, the quality of the work that drives him on to the next hurdle; “The more you do something the better you get” he says. While the body of work which Brendan has accumulated to date is impressive the future holds its possibilities. Perhaps ‘At Swim’ will see, with his Irish peers, the confluence of those generous talents

Tony Conboy Blog Introduction

2010-01-07T19:50:00.007Z

My name is Tony Conboy. I come originally from Castlecoote, five miles west of Roscommon town in County Roscommon. I have been in Boyle since 1972. I was a teacher of St. Mary’s College Boyle. I am currently employed, on a seasonal basis, as a guide at Boyle Abbey. I feel that I have found my niche there. My most consistent social interest through the years has been the GAA. This is an inherited regard. In 1990 the History of the GAA in the County, of which I was Editor, was published. If I saw a copy of it for sale now I would buy it! Over the years I have written a number what I’ll call essays. I have wanted to collect them for some time and perhaps put them between covers. This is the reason why I am embarking on this blog. I make no claims for the quality or consistency of these pieces and would be interested in feedback. I have opened, somewhat unusually, with a piece by someone else i.e. Father Henry Tonra writing on his experience of a morning as headmaster at St. Mary’s. I have always held Father Tonra in the highest regard and his history of Ardcarne Parish is just great. A number of these pieces were up on realboyle a number of years ago but I am going to try and do better this time. How many times have I used the phrase, ‘could do better’? There will be glitches here as I navigate and get to grips witht the nuances of a few technicalities! Hopefully I'll be able to delete that sentence soon!

Morning of a Headmaster

2009-12-08T18:00:00.002Z

The high whine of Radio Eireann's carrier-wave frequently finds me awake. By-and-by it changes to ten-second bleeps and I get out of bed. It is 7.25am. The high-ceilinged annexe of Drumderrig House feels frosty. It is late January or early February. For four years I have listened to the gurgling water of the hand-basin of Kevin Dodd's bedroom next door as he arose early to open the school. Now that he has left, I have this part of the house to myself, and it's my turn to do the early gurgling.
By 7.40 I am climbing the stairs to the Oratory for Mass. Brigid, woman of many parts, now turns acolyte for fifteen minutes. From the oratory window I can see, across Lough Key, the house where I was born, and where my mother has died a fortnight ago. But now is no time for thinking. Mustn't get behind get behind in the schedule. Downstairs for breakfast at 8.07, dining alone as Noel will have a later Mass. As I crunch toast I hear the slither-and-plop of the letters in the passage outside, delivered by a silent postman who has penetrated the outer defences of the glass porch and sneaked them through the portcullis. A mixed bag. Magazines, scientific and educational; someone offers to sell biros with the school's name on them, at an attractive price per gross; a letter from the department:-A athair oirmh-It is noted that on the December lists furnished by you to this department, the pupil Aida Nosferate of Class 302 has not completed the required two years of study of the subjects French and Science Syllabus A, and is therefore ineligible to sit the Intermediate examination in these subjects, according to Rule 26 (b). Mise le meas….."

OPEN….UNLOCK…SWITCH ON…PLUG IN….

By 8.17 I emerge, laden with mail, books, documents, and an orange-juice jar full of milk for the coffee. Fiat ODI 906 is ageing but willing to go. Out the gate. Turn right. Down Abbeytown. Turn left at the Abbey. Over the bridge. Turn right. Past the Shrine. Turn left. There is a drift of three or four early Christains up to the 8.30 Mass in the Sports Complex. Jim Lloyd treads mincingly on the hardened ice of the footpath. The same people doing the same things as yesterday.
At 8.20 I drive into the school grounds and park my car at the gable of the old building. Now routine really takes over. Open front door of Old Building. Go through to staff-room. Deposit milk. Plug in oil-fired heater. Open back door. Round to boiler-house. Unlock. Switch on. If it misfires, procure newspaper and fold. Apply Ronson lighter. Open furnace door. Throw in lighted paper. Drop door shut quickly. Avoid puff of black smoke. Step over puddle on way out. Back to the staff-room. See is mouse still in the cupboard. Wash two dirty coffee cups left by two unspeakable staff-members the previous evening.

By now it is 8.25 and the first cargo of pupils has arrived, two and a quarter tons, from the Corrigeenroe-Knockvicar area. Naturally, being prejudiced, I consider these to be, 'la crème de la crème', and this morning at least they are models of deportment. For instance they refrain from breaking down the door into the New Building when I am delayed for a minute picking up two empty Coke cans and a 'Holland and Madden' maths. book. I open the door and they deposit their bags inside. Then with a rush they are off to the Sports Complex. I follow at a more middle-aged pace.

ETERNAL ROUTINE;

For want of a church the main sports hall is being used for Sunday Mass, the annexe for daily Mass. In the passage, past the annexe into the main hall, I collide with Paddy Leonard, sacristan. Always there, always punctual, with a morning greeting for all. I wonder by what similar eternal routine he has got to this same point as I, at this same time every morning, Fr. Michael Breslin, perhaps, will be the celebrant this week, and because Mass is just about to begin all our operations next door will have to be conducted at less than boisterous decibels.
On a normal morning, I open the canteen door, hand out a football and a few table-tennis bats and they are away with gusto. Mondays are different. What has to be done on Mondays depends on what the worthy parish councillors of Grange, Derrymaquirk and Bealinultha have done after evening Mass the previous evening. They will at least have rolled the carpets and stacked the chairs. The chairs, eight hundred of them, are stacked against a side wall, but the job may have been hastily done, and the tall teetering piles, unable to stand the impact of a football, may have to be restacked. Why? Because they didn't obey Anthony Martin's strict command-'No more than twelve'. Or was it fourteen? The carpets too may have to be re-rolled, as the original rolling may have been crooked, or the warp-fibres of one, may have rolled into another, holding two rolls together like Siamese twins. Each roll weighs about a quarter of a ton and the manhandling of them brings forth much groaning, not all of it faked. At least they are lined up at the end of the hall, out of the way to a great extent. Now the basketball backboard on its tall mobile frame has to be moved from the corner out to the centre. Co-ordination of effort is needed here. James Monaghan applies himself with vigour. Padraig Harte excitedly shouts orders. Liam Bruen, a more careful man, extends his hands to the bar, but as we physicists would say, 'the point of application is not displaced in the direction of the force'. Wattless power, perhaps, the ESB would call it. Soon the job is done and the football can proceed. The days of Spring will soon be here and I will soon tell them to go outside and play on the tarmac pitch behind the complex. Their speechless shock at the wanton cruelty of asking them to go out into the mild, fresh air, will almost melt my heart. The nets are now put on the four ping-pong tables and recreation proceeds.
On a normal morning I have about a half-hour of relative peace at this juncture. I sit in the canteen. Or I walk up and down the hall being careful to avoid high- flying footballs. I can read letters that have come and draft answers in my mind. Dear Sir, We are surprised to learn of a discrepancy in the December lists from this school, as we had them thoroughly checked. Aida Nosferatu should of course read Aidan O'Farrell. The error is regretted. Yours etc etc."

ARRIVALS;

Between 9.05 and 9.10 the inbound traffic is at its most dense, three tons from the Plains of Boyle, three and a quarter from the Foyogues direction, and about fifteen hundred-weight by mini-bus from the northern Tundra regions of Cloonloo and Carrowcrory. At 9.10 I collect the football and evacuate the gym. If a first-year class has a P.E. period immediately following, they appear at this stage, shivering but eager, and ask for the ball to kick around until the teacher comes. If any more senior class has P.E. at this time, they melt into the bush like Salvadorean rebels and have to be got out with napalm. I leave the complex and return to the staff-room, where by now Gus is waiting. Normally he is calm, confident and pipe-smoking. Occasionally he is a trifle edgy and key-rattling. Perhaps some ferocious frit of a teacher has discovered a discrepancy in the time-table! One that will necessitate some late nights for both of us. But no. This morning the trouble is more urgent. A phone-call has come from some teacher. He won't be in for the first period. Gus has already added him, in his mind, to the one who is known to be stretched and won't be in at all, to Fr. Sharkey who is on the Stations but luckily does not have a class until 11.30, to the teacher who won't be in for the first period but hasn't bothered to phone, and to the two missing down in the Vocational School. A messy business. Desperate, but perhaps not hopeless.

PROBLEMS AND SOLUTIONS;

Word has come that some miscreant has inserted half a match-stick in the Yale lock in Mary Martin's prefab. This is not an uncommon occurrence. Not that anyone could possibly have any ill-will towards this attractive young lady. It's just a very inexpensive form of protest. Perhaps someone has the wistful hope that he can find the weak spot that will bring the whole educational juggernaut to a standstill. But we who exploit the young are not so easily baulked. A search is made for Rory Sheerin or some such boy who is not swollen by Tayto crisps and Coke, and he is inserted into a four-inch slit in one of the windows. All is well again. It is at times like this that one feels proud of the self-reliance and independence of the establishment. We are almost the perfect society spoken of by medieval theologians. We have all the means necessary for our own survival. Nothing is needed from outside, except Brigid's jar of milk and Dympna Moriarty's biscuits. We can reach out in any need and find an expert or specialist from among our own ranks; Peter Toolan to pick locks, Noel Mattimoe to solve a crossword, Brid Ferguson to coach a basketball team, Mary Martin ditto with the badminton team, Paddy Nangle to explain the rules of all known games, John Moyles to weld a goalpost, Cathy Gilroy to make a French telephone call. I marvel at it all.

'BEYOND YON STRAGGLING FENCE…'

The classrooms are now open and the troops move in, sullen or smiling or shifty or serene. I wait a minute or two to see if all is well. A kind of uneasy peace settles on the school. The sounds that emerge from the classrooms differ as I move around. In Tommy Conlon's. Francie's and Phil's all is tranquillity. Back in the Old Building, in Room 1 of the 'double-room', one simply knows that the metaphysical poets are in good hands. Next door a deep-voiced, subtle 'dig' misses by a mile its smiling 203 victim, who sits protected by a carapace of innocence. It reminds me of Abdul the Terrible, greatest swordsman of the Caliphate, who one day met his mortal enemy, Mahmoud. No eye could see his flashing scimitar as he swung it round at the speed of light. Hah!" said Mahmoud, You missed". Did I?" said Abdul. Shake your head!".
From Marian's room comes an occasional high shriek, perhaps at some unacceptable form of the Aimsir Caite. From No. 4 some tremors and rumblings, fearsome at times, but usually low down on the Richter scale. Over in the 'New Building' Frank Fahy is already in occupation, even though he has come from Loughrea. Rugby weekends frightened him at times. On one occasion he solemnly said goodbye on Friday evening. At the thought of meeting some anthropoids from Galway or Athlone in the League, he felt he might not survive the Saturday match. I offered the Last Anointing. He would soon return to teach in his native county and Brid could then come in from the cold, that is to say , 'The Henhouse'. Further along the corridor, one can find Noel, like a wily Lebanese trader, always ready to open his stall and do business at any hour, making large profits on rulers and copybooks. In the Geography Room Don frets about the Killavil Group Water Scheme. Down in the lower Science room no one has told Des that he has four hundred days to live.
But, hark, what is that sound? I enter the door of the New Building. A group of second-years loll at the front of the stairs, waiting, murmuring. Even as I pass I hear the word go out, "He's coming". And sure enough he is, Don Paco himself, Frank Tivnan, having come down from Corr na Miolta, greatly assisted by gravity. The yellow bird, RDI 449 skids to a stop outside his very own window. Sometimes I fear that one day he will penetrate the wall and emerge from his car inside the classroom to greet his delighted pupils with a "Buenos Dias". But today he unadventurously enters by the door, and after his coming a sort of silence falls over the school. It is 9.20am.

I climb the stairs to my office. The school day has begun!

Article by Fr. Henry Tonra - Principal of St. Mary's College, Boyle circa 1979.

Flared-frocks and Brylcreem

2009-12-08T17:51:00.001Z

Irish Dance Halls, London, circa 1969. I spent some interesting periods of my younger life in London, in the sixties. I first went there in the late sixties. Like most Irish people I became immersed in the social outlets of the huge Irish population in that great city at the time. These outlets were basically the Gaelic football and a vibrant pub culture for men, and the Irish dance halls for both men and women

The London-Irish Dance-Halls:
It is somewhat odd, that, for a person who never really got to grips with the nuances of the dance floor I regularly explored the London-Irish dance halls. It was one of the great diversions for young Irish émigrés who had few other social outlets.
My first 'room' was in West Ealing, so, very early in my stay, I visited the Innisfree dance hall in Ealing. It was my only visit and it being a Sunday night it was a muted affair. It suffered a premature end in a fire in the middle sixties and was not restored which was an inconvenience for us in West London.

'The Garryowen'
Most of London seemed to have enclaves of Irish people living in them, two notable areas being, Shepherd's Bush and Hammersmith. Oddly 'the Bush' did not have an Irish dance hall in my time though I have heard of one called 'The Carlton' up the Uxbridge Road, close to Shepherd's Bush. Hammersmith, however, had one of the iconic dance halls in The Garryowen. Close by was another famous dance hall, a mainly English one, The Palais, where Joe Loss and his orchestra were kings. I worked, for a short time, in a bar on Hammersmith Broadway called 'The Swan' and the orchestra members socialised there. Sunday afternoon dancing was a feature of a number of dance halls, the Palais being one, though it was more of the Ballroom variety and while interesting in a glamorous way it was way above my head or my feet. Also in Hammersmith was The Emerald, which I seem to remember as being in the middle of a roadway and opposite Hammersmith Hospital. Another Sunday afternoon dance hall was very conveniently located in the centre of London at Tottenham Court Road, where, when you exited the Tube, your eyes were diverted sky-wise by the high-rise skyscraper just then completed, Centre Point, I think it was called. Like a number of halls it was downstairs to 'The Blarney'. There is reference somewhere to these afternoon dances being referred to as 'Tea Dances'. Alcoholic drink was not a feature of some dance halls.
In Fulham, there was The Hibernian but I only remember one visit though a nearby pub, 'The White Hart', had a reputation for fine traditional Irish traditional music.

Catholic Charlie Mack's:
My sister Carmel was a great lady for the dances and for a time favoured Charlie Mack's in Victoria or Bayswater. It had a reputation as being a very Catholic establishment with the possibility of having to pass some test to prove your religious ethos, to the supervising 'matriach', to get in. This presented no problem to us at that time! I remember it being close to New Scotland Yard with its rotating geometrical sign and to a street named Strutting Ground!

The Galtymore:
As the Carlsberg ad might say, the most famous Irish dance hall in London and a survivor of sorts, was 'probably', 'The Galtymore' in Cricklewood. It was, I was told, originally a Bingo hall, owned by a Mr. Beirne, who turned up in some respect at one of the Dublin Tribunals. It was located in one of the most identifiably Irish areas and close to the famous drinking emporium called 'The Crown'. I was rarely in the Galtymore, which I recall as having twin halls like Dublin's Mansion House. There was a common admission, with one being a Ceili dance hall frequented by mostly west of Ireland people but not me.
What is now Sainsburys of Kiburn was once 'The Banba'. In the 70s' on Kilburn High Road there was 'The National' run by Kevin Flynn from Sligo. I also heard of one called 'The State' in Kilburn.
Generally I never knew or cared who owned these places and my challenges were, to get in with the even greater one of making my way 'home' to the 'room' of the time. The London Transport system had little sympathy for the late night reveller and 'taking a girl home' often posed insurmountable logistical problems. So, one had to attempt to compromise desire with London City geography. Few seemed to have cars and the using of a taxi was only for emergencies or when a full shared load presented itself. There were odd times when the irregular night buses or even 'the Green Line' was resorted to. Like many, I tramped many a long mile home, in the late night, without much anxiety, in innocent immaturity.

'The Buffalo', Camden Town:
'The Buffalo' was an apt name for Camden Town's Irish 'dance hall'. This was a 'lively', sometimes explosive venue, usually 'packed to the rafters' and with a decent variety of artists. While London's Irish dance halls may have a legendary reputation for being rough or being fighting venues I rarely encountered this. One of the occasions I did was in the Buffalo and it was wild-west stuff as the Victoria Line miners from Donegal and Mayo (the elite of the labouring Irish in late sixties London) tried to 'sort out' some intractable insult by an unfortunate 'wee gobshite'.
The pre-dance foundations in Camden town could be laid in 'The Mother Red Cap', having escaped the labyrinthine exits and odours of Camden Town's black tube line and past the walls polished by the eternal queues of Ireland's youth as they waited to be selected for the 'shtaart' (sic) to board 'the Green' or 'the Grey' Murphy wagons to be transported to the outer regions of London to pour concrete or for the big cable pull.
Not far from here was a less contentious and later hall called 'The Forum' in Kentish Town, opposite Murphy's yard, which was re-named 'The Town and Country'.

'The Gresham':
In the pecking order of stars the number one hall was 'The Gresham' at the top of Holloway Road at The Archway. 'The Gresham' had illusions of grandeur (as its name implies) with an imposing foyer and modernism (if such was possible with these establishments), a fussy dress-code (ties could be rented for the night) and fussier 'bouncers'. The main night appeared to be Monday night, which presented a many- faceted challenge. Was it that 'the tubes' ran later on Monday nights? If one could gauge accurately the last intercepting Central Line train at Tottenham Court Road it could be worthwhile. Monday nights had a reputation of having present, to use the terminology of the time, the classier Irish ladies or those who thought themselves to be such. Near 'The Gresham' were the Whittington and Royal Northern Hospitals with their population of Irish nurses and their English colleagues. On Monday nights there was a special concession on admission to these ladies, so, if one could cope with the Monday night aspect of things it was an acceptable experience. Saturday nights there was a free-for-all in a very different sense!
Generally before The Gresham I found myself in the adjacent 'Archway Tavern' or 'The Half Moon', a cheque-changing bar, with an acceptable piano-playing Dublin entertainer, some way down the Holloway Rd. Like in Ireland, if one required 'Dutch Courage' before the dance encounter (and many did not, being pioneers), one had to visit the nearby or strategically located bar, which rarely presented a difficulty.
A couple of the rare surviving 'snaps' from this period of my life in London, were taken by the Gresham's resident 'snapper'. One is a group of us bar 'men' from the Queen Adelaide, on The Uxbridge Road, near Shepherd's Bush, who had made the odyssey in our mohair suits and ruler width ties. We were united by a camaraderie of innocence as we waited for the County names of Roscommon, Longford and Leitrim to come around on the green neon strip- light in the mineral bar. I had remembered these halls as not having bars but after discussion with a fellow enthusiast discovered I was wrong. Not all of them had bars but The Gresham had two bars one upstairs and a smaller one downstairs for the inner circle. One would have thought these would have added to their volatility.
'The Gresham' 'imported' the best bands from 'back home' which necessitated more expensive door charges but still resulted in packed houses. Some dance-hall owners owned a string of halls in London and in other English cities like the Reynolds brothers did in the Midlands of Ireland. Thus 'big' bands were restricted or contracted to play in their halls only, which left the smaller 'Independents' with the crumbs.
Despite my best efforts in The Gresham, I was puzzled that I was not more appreciated in its precincts! Perhaps it was my profession of 'shovelist' in response to the lady's 'typist' that let me down! One of the small pleasures of these halls was the occasional meeting of someone from home as when I met Jimmy Coyne a barman in The Gresham around '66.

Lesser Dance Halls:
By way of diversion and research on my way home to 'the room' off Camden Town Road I once or twice found myself in an undistinguished hall, called 'The Round Tower', at the junction of Holloway Road and Seven Sisters Road, where, if I remember correctly, there was a major pub called 'The Nag's Head'.
Once, on a prospect, I made the long journey to, and longer journey back from, 'The Harp' in New Cross; Peckham country, made famous later by Del Boy. I was no Del Boy and South of the Thames held few rewards for me. Near here too was 'The Shamrock' in The Elephant and Castle.
My cousins hung out for the most part around Leytonstone, which had a small hall called, I think, 'The Inisfail'. This was an interesting place as nearby was the large Whipps Cross Hospital, which, like all hospitals, had a considerable Irish nursing population. Near this was the landmark bar, 'The Green Man', standing in splendid isolation as a lighthouse to the weary!
In Wimbledon was the simply titled 'Wimbledon Dance Hall' where the out-of-towners made their way to meet their city-domiciled cousins.
In South -West London, in Balham was the 'Aranmore' and at the opposite end of the compass was 'The Shannon' in Finsbury Park near Stroud Green Road. ...These latter three I only heard of!
Not far from The Jubilee Clock in Harlesden was 'The 32 Club'. John Grehan told me of it having a previous Irish name which I did not record. He may have said 'The Tara'. This reputedly had a Kerry, Dublin clientele but I remember being there with Cork people, it being near their first disembarkation station, Paddington. There was often a whiff of danger about 'The 32 Club'.
I have been told of a 'St. Olives' hall at Manor House though I've heard this referred to as just, Manor House Dance Hall and also reference to a 'Four Provinces' hall in the same area, with mention of another hall in Ilford. In Tooting Beck there was another Saint represented, was it 'St. Barnaville'?
In Romford there was an Irish Club, which people like Pat Carton, working down near the Thames estuary, frequented. It, too, was near another hospital with a big Irish nursing population. Pat mentioned a Glacamorra Club as well but while I'm familiar with it in Finian's Rainbow I never heard of it in this context. It sounds like an apt dreamy, nostalgic name though, for a London-Irish hall of the time.
I'm told of another Carlton, the Carlton Rooms, in Willsden, with many Irish dances but know nothing of them. Later many Churches had adjacent Church clubs but I suppose they were of a different hue with a clientele more settled and mature, long after their 'Buffalo' days were over. These Church halls were there for a number of reasons including the financing of Church buildings. These halls too are in decline.

Decades On ...the Legacy:
In the mid 80s' there was another surge of emigration and new names appear such as 'Dicey Reillys' in Neasden run by Kevin Flynn from '89 to '98. In Hamstead in the early 70s' was the more exotically titled 'The Purple Pussycat'.

These represent a cultural sea change from the 'The Harp', 'The Garryowen', 'The Emerald' and their contemporaries, which proved such magnetic attractions and distractions for that generation of young Irish who flooded England's capital city in the 50s' and 60s' They are now part of a kind of folk history for their patrons but whether they deserve to be or not they are remembered with nostalgia and fondness by thousands of their patrons for whom they provided an invaluable social and emotional outlet.

Jimmy Murray

2009-12-08T17:49:00.000Z

Jimmy Murray was laid to rest on Thursday January the 25th in Gailey Cemetry on the hill overlooking Knockcroghery village, next to the football field he had graced in his prime.

So passed to his eternal reward one of the legendary heroes of Roscommon. I was proud to have known him pretty well and privileged that I was well thought of by him also. Jimmy was the touchstone of the Roscommon GAA through the decades. He was an inspiration and a constant reminder that the ultimate goals could be achieved by Roscommon. It was a nice irony that on the night of the All-Ireland Minor win the team stopped off in Knockcroghery and the team-captain David Flynn and the St. Dominick's Clubman Mark Miley took The Cup in to Jimmy symbolising the respect held and the duty owed by Roscommon football to try and emulate his deeds of over sixty years ago.

Eldest Son takes responsibility:
He was born on May 5th 1917 and so was just over three months short of his ninetieth birthday when he died. His father had established a business in the village of Knockcroghery, a village which became synonymous with Jimmy and a place he held dear. He was a member of a large family of ten, eight boys and two girls. They did well. Two brothers were doctors, two engineers, one a priest, another a shopkeeper and the last a farmer. A sister married one of the 'Garage Caseys'. In his own family there are five, three boys and two girls. Jimmy had stayed in the business with his parents and helped the younger members of the family reach their goals, a point noted by his brother, Canon Paddy, in his respectful and touching homily.

(I do not intend to try and write a long biographical piece here and now. Perhaps I will attempt to do that at another time. In any event a lot has been written in a fine Supplement in The Roscommon Herald and in The Roscommon Champion and elsewhere. Here I wish to touch on my own memories of him).

A font of knowledge:
An attribute for which people like me will be forever grateful was his willingness to take time to talk and share his knowledge and memories. I did lean heavily on him in the preparation of the GAA History of Roscommon published in 1990. When Patsy Brennan gave me the first few copies 'off the presses' in The Roscommon Herald Printing Works I immediately drove to Knockcroghery to give Jimmy the first copy. I felt he deserved it most as his help and achievements were the centre-piece of the publication. He gave it his imprimatur and I was relieved, for Jimmy was no shrinking violet and it was most important that it got his seal of approval.

'Snaps' and cuttings:
His bar was a veritable GAA museum. The walls were decorated with team photographs from every county. He had important panels of photographs of the great All-Ireland victories of '43 and '44. Since he was a non-drinker he rose early after those Finals and went to the National Newspaper offices on the Dublin Quays and collected copies of the pictures from them. These became central to those iconic collections. He added to this with his enduring 'scrapbook' which included newspaper clippings, 'snaps' and memorabilia. These he stored and transported in a traditional brown leather suitcase which acted as a humble reliquary for its rich contents.

Nights of Song:
He loved his own County, 'God's County' as I heard him refer to it once. He was one of its great ambassadors and travelled far and wide to functions representing it. It was well represented. Often when I called, and I rarely passed through 'the village' without calling, if he was not in the bar he would come from the kitchen and engage warmly in conversation. This was more often than not on football and the fortunes and prospects of Roscommon. If I had a visitor with me I would ask him to step into a photograph, 'a snap' as he called them, and he never demurred. He had great patience. Not long ago after a National League game in Tullamore I met Danny Burke and he asked if we were stopping on the way home. We agreed to meet up in Jimmy's. So Frankie Feighan, Gerry Emmett and I joined Danny and Christy Glynn there and a memorable session of song and fun ensued with Jimmy a willing participant. He had no inhibition when called on to perform. A night I remember fondly was in Wynne's Bar in Boyle when I had invited him to help us launch a 'Singers Night'. He had just recorded a fine CD of his favourite songs, recorded as he would emphasise in just 'two takes'. In Wynne's he sang many of the songs from that CD. His final song that night, as it was on so many occasions, was his rallying call 'The West's Awake' sung with a leader's passion. There were many fine singers there that night and as he left he assured me that, 'ye'll have no problem with a Singers Night'.

'The Autograph Collector':
A little over a week later I happened to be at a function in the King House with 'the great and the good' when Jimmy strode across the large open floor of the big reception room. I just shook my head at his resilience and joined him. 'Is that Matt Molloy, I'd like to get his autograph', he enthused. I did the groundwork. 'Matt, Jimmy Murray wants to say hello and he would like your autograph'. 'Indeed' responded Matt 'I would like his autograph'. So the exchange took place between two stars of Roscommon. Later Jimmy asked me to confirm the presence of John McGahern. 'I wonder would he mind'. 'I'll ask him' .I was happy in being thus employed by my hero. ' Excuse me, Mr McGahern, but Jimmy Murray would like to get your autograph'. ' Well I would be honoured and maybe I will get his' he answered and smiled. I stood back in a kind of reverential way but got my picture for the record. I wonder if this meeting reminded Mr. McGahern to include a reference to Jimmy in his fine autobiography 'Memoirs'.
So Jimmy could add another two illustrious names to the countless number who had called to his Bar down all the days. Decades ago he had begun collecting autographs, in a robust account book, of people who called to his Bar. 'Did you sign the book' he always enquired from the visitor. His first book went astray, borrowed but not returned by some vandal. The second book fell foul of the flames which engulfed the bar one night. The hanging football of '43 got singed but survived. Like Bruce of Scotland Jimmy began again and the third book is a testament to the regard in which he was held as the names straddle the country and beyond the seas.

Forever the Captain:
Jimmy's team of the forties were like a band of brothers with Jimmy always the leader. He led Roscommon in the Croke Park parade on five occasions, '43 draw and replay versus Cavan, '44 versus Kerry, '46 draw and replay versus Kerry. He captained his Club St. Patrick's to five County titles. He was a non-playing captain of a Connacht team in his later years. As members of the team passed it was Jimmy who spoke on behalf of the team. At Dr. Keenan's funeral Mass he saw John Joe Nerney arrive in the back of the church and beckoned him forward to join with his team mates of decades earlier. All those players, strong men and personalities in their own right, respected his leadership to the end. "If anyone called asking me about those years I'd send them to Jimmy" John Joe told me. At his Funeral Mass Canon Murray talked of the family man, the man who gave time to all, of a Christian man, of a good man. Canon Lavin tri gaeilge spoke of the man of courage and conviction a figure almost from the epic Gaelic tradition. Bishop Jones recalled the joy of listening with neighbours, as they crowded around the 'wet' and 'dry' battery radio, as Micheal O'Hehir painted pictures in sound of 'the men of the West led by their Captain the fair–haired Jimmy Murray'. Dermot Earley in the graveside eulogy emphasised his leadership, example and inspirational qualities.

Before his Funeral Mass I watched the great Liam Gilmartin take his place in the Church. Then the powerful Brendan Lynch joined him. 'The great man is gone' Lynch pronounced later to a reporter. Jon Joe sat discreetly nearby. The fourth survivor, Dr. Hugh Gibbons was unable to attend but was represented. The Roscommon hero of the decade and more after the forties team, Gerry O'Malley, said simply, " I'm not so much sad as lonely".
That loneliness was shared by Roscommon people in many and distant places.

However Jimmy would not want us to be downcast. So maybe it would be more appropriate to end this journey on a positive note and celebrate the long life, legacy and memory of a great Roscommon man.

Paddy Perry

2009-12-08T17:46:00.000Z

Paddy Perry: the shining light in Boyle’s Golden Age of Handball. There may be similar parallels in other sports that I am not aware of but in the decade of the 1930s' Boyle was the heartbeat of handball in Ireland. This was due to the efforts of one John Casey who ran his ball-alley, Casey’s Alley, in St. Patrick’s Street, Boyle. From it came one of the great champions of any sport and I contend Roscommon's greatest ever sportsman. His name was Paddy Perry. With Perry in the lead there was a supporting cast of other fine handballers, such as, Paddy Reid, the Gaughran brothers, the Clarkes, Kennedy, Devine, Dooley and Gibbons. (Hopefully I will return to this supporting cast in the future).

A succession of titles:

Perry won his first All-Ireland, a Junior Softball Singles, in 1929 and accompanied by Tommy Gaughran, he also won the doubles, at the Horse and Jockey alley in Tipperary. In 1930 Paddy won the first of 8 All-Ireland Senior Softball titles in a row, 1930 to 1937 inclusive. For a long time it was felt that this would never be equalled but it has been by Kilkenny handballer, Duxie Walshe. Perry with Austin Mullaney, a teacher from Glinsk, Co. Galway, won the Senior All-Ireland Softball Doubles in '32 and '33. In '36, Paddy, with his friend Paddy Reid of Tawnanaden, outside Boyle, took the Doubles title in the All-Ireland Senior Hardball.
In nine years Perry won 13 All-Ireland medals along with a host of Provincial and Garda honours as well as the prestigious Tailteann Games Singles and Doubles (with A. Mullaney) in 1932. He was awarded the G.A.A. Golden Jubilee Year Trophy for 1934.
There is a reference to him being selected for an Irish handball team to participate at The 1932 Olympics at Los Angeles and of the team being unable to travel due to lack of funds. While a case is being put to have handball (as we know it) included today I was not aware that it was part of an Olympic programme previously.

Perry-v-his heir apparent, John Joe Gilmartin:

Perry was to be succeeded by another great champion whose father came from Boyle but was domiciled in Kilkenny, John Joe Gilmartin. They met in October 1937 at Clogh, Co. Kilkenny. Noted handball authority and referee, Tom McElligott, wrote evocatively, in his 1984 book on handball, on this game:
"Like the meeting of two great players in any sport, while the match did not answer all the questions, it was still a memorable occasion. It showed Perry at his masterly best. It showed Gilmartin with still a bit to go to attain similar mastery. Perry was then a commanding figure, fast-moving with a deceptively easy way of hitting a decisive 'kill'. His beautiful service which ran only inches below the board at the top of the side-walls meant that Gilmartin rarely put him out in his return of service. Gilmartin, only coming on the scene, showed breath-taking speed and rapier drives down the side- walls. Perry came out the winner by the odd game in five. On the homeward journey none of us had any doubt but that we had seen a match that would not be surpassed in our time".
Paddy went down to John Joe in 1938, with the most disappointing feature being, that the game was in Boyle.
"I didn’t mind losing as much to John Joe, because he was one of the greatest I ever played but to lose in my home town was naturally disappointing" Perry later recalled. They remained friends and long afterwards discussed with admiration and envy the quality of the new glass courts of Croke Park.

Unique Achievement:

That Paddy Perry remained in Ireland at all was a close run thing. He was due to go to an uncle in the States but was persuaded by General Eoin O'Duffy, the then chief, to join The Garda Siochana. This was in line with O'Duffy’s policy of getting prominent sportspeople to join the Garda Siochana.
Membership of the force led to a unique accolade for Paddy Perry and one that will surely never be equalled. In 1934 he won three Dublin Senior Championships on the one day representing the Garda. In the football final they defeated St. Joseph’s. He was persuaded to play in the hurling final against Faughs, which they also won. Paddy sustained a badly injured ankle and rib and was strongly advised not to play for some time. However on that evening he defeated Peter Berry (a prominent Civil Servant in the early 70's) in the handball final. Berry had refused to have it postponed. This made his injuries worse but he later felt the uniqueness of his achievement made it worthwhile.
With the Garda he won Dublin Senior Championships in '33, '34 and '35. He won a Leinster Senior medal with Dublin County in '34 and was on the Dublin panel which disposed of Kerry convincingly in the Semi-final at Tralee but were defeated by Galway (Connacht's first Senior Football win) in the All-Ireland Final. Paddy played Gaelic football for Boyle and Roscommon and also played soccer for Sligo Rovers under the name 'Mickey Rooney'

Hall of Fame:

In recalling his most memorable moments he nominated his 1929 return to Boyle after his victories in the All Ireland Junior singles and Doubles with Tommy Gaughran in 1929.
"They laid rockets on the railway track which announced our homecoming. There were bonfires blazing and we were carried shoulder high down the town accompanied by the town’s Brass and Reed Band. We were young and really enjoyed it all."
Paddy Perry was the second person to be honoured with a Hall of Fame award in Roscommon in 1969. (The previous year Tom Shevlin from Strokestown was similarly honoured).
He served in the Garda from 1931 until retirement, on his birthday March 17, 1972, with all his service being in Dublin. He was born on Patrick’s day 1909 and died in April 1983 aged 74 years. His daughter has returned to live in Boyle where there are also a number of his nephews and nieces.
His life-long friend, fellow Boyle man and also a handball champion, Paddy Reid, paid him this tribute;
"During his time as Champion he met many very great players throughout Ireland but none of them could compete with the brilliance of the great Champion that Paddy Perry was. I have witnessed many great games during and since that time and I can truly say that his superiority and brilliance have never been and are never likely to be equalled. He was a credit to his county and country and to the Garda Siochana in which he served with distinction for forty one years."

This great sportsman, Paddy Perry, deserves to be remembered and honoured in some tangible way in his native place. Neither should we forget his impressive supporting cast. What a time it must have been to be a supporter in that golden age of handball in Boyle!

Cricket: First Test

2009-12-08T17:44:00.000Z

I happened to be zapping through the TV channels on Saturday night and I thought that the election must have started with people begging for votes (at premium rates) in a show called "The X Factor" and then a group of people, I didn’t know, lost in the Australian Bush and not a cricket ball in sight. Mentioning cricket the Aussie’s really gazumped the Poms in the opening days of the first Test at The Gabba (Why is it called that?).
The English bowler Harmisson’s first ball which headed to second slip like a sliced Gerry Emmettt tee shot, set the tone. Then came a magic 'knock' from the Aussie skipper Ponting (once questioned as the real deal) and the Australians reached over 600 declaring for nine. There followed a dispirited response from England (leaving Flintoff's bowling aside) reaching 159 in their First Innings due to superb bowling by the veteran Glenn McGrath. Surprisingly Australia went in to bat a Second Innings and did not make England follow on and eventually declared at a further 202. It was really game over despite a good effort from England’s Peterson in their second innings.
The First Test should end on Monday and it really looks like a mis-match at this stage but England have lost First Tests before, even as badly as this and come back. The Aussies will go for the clean sweep as nothing they like more than beating England …like a few more.

(The above piece was inspired by Brian and Michael, two cricket fans and it is the policy of realboyle to treat minorities favourably!). I saw someone who looked like Ciaran Conlon indicating a Ponting boundary! I’ve failed to get the buzz word ‘ripper’ in until now so that’s sorted. Also look out for ‘hawkeye’ the computer which gives an idea on Billy Bowden calls. He used to be the character in MASH. (Australian papers please copy!)

Summary of the Second Test in Adelaide:
If one wished to witness many of the emotions and nuances as to why cricket is regarded, by its followers, as one of sport’s great games, then the Second Test between England and Australia at Adelaide was an exemplary provider. England had little time to recover from their bruising encounter at ‘the Gabba’ in Brisbane. Yet batting first it looked as if one of their few successes from the First Test would provide the platform for an unlikely challenge. Paul Collingwood ended the first day (Thursday) on 98 and continued on Friday to 206 and a 310 stand with Kevin Peterson (158), the fifth highest in Ashes history. This helped England to ‘declare’ on an impressive 555 for 6 wickets. The idea of declaring is to ensure that the game of two inninings each team gets a chance to reach a conclusion for if it did not ‘a draw’ would be the result. Australia batting closed the second day (Friday) at 29 for 1.

Crucial Drop:
As in many sports a mistake proved critical. Here it was the ‘dropping’ of a pretty straight-forward catch by England’s Ashley Giles of Australian ace and Captain Ricky Ponting when he was at 35. He was to go on to score 142. Despite the fine bowling of Matthew Hoggard Australia ended the day at 312 for 5, 243 behind. England were still in the driving seat but needed early wickets on Sunday.
This did not happen however and Australia brought their total to 513 just 43 behind. Then it was England back to bat their Second Innings. Their objective was to put on either a respectable number of runs, making their total uncatchable and also to reduce the number of bowling ‘overs’ on the last day, Monday. The situation for England had come down from a strong winning position, after their big First Innings total, to a certain draw, barring disaster of course, as time would run out and the game would not run its full course.

Collapse:
However disaster did strike as the English batting collapsed. Reaching a tolerable 69 for two wickets the wickets then tumbled with the next six going for 36 (3 for 8 runs) with Peterson 2, team Captain Flintoff 2, Jones 10, Cooke 9, Collingwood not out 22. The destroyer was one of the other great players in the history of the game ‘seam bowler’ Shane Warne who took 4 for 49.
Even with this incredible collapse a draw seemed the likely result if England restricted the Australian run rate below the required total and got through the allocated number of ‘bowling overs’ for the day. However the Australians played aggressively scenting the wilting of English confidence. They needed 168 from the 38 overs remaining for the remainder of the day. Time was a critical feature. When Australian openers Langer (7) and Hayden (18) went, things looked reasonable but once again an aggressive Ponting pushed the score along with 49 and Australia were narrowing the gap at 3 for 116, 52 behind. Just to show where the gods stood Australian batsman Hussey ran for three and the ball being returned by the fielder was overthrown to a boundary realising 7 runs for the one strike (hardly ever happens). The Australian supporters were waltzing in Utopia. Hussey brought in the runs required (61) for Australia to win by the 6 wickets (batsmen) they had left standing and three ‘overs’ to spare. Ricky Ponting even edged out history maker Collingwood for the ‘Man of the Match’ award.

Third Test, Perth:
So England went through the floors with a very laudable recovery from the First Test and a winning position after their First Innings score to a certain ‘draw’ to a humiliating defeat. Now it is on to the Third Test in Perth starting on Thursday 14th. This will be the ultimate test for the badly bruised lions against an Australian team which includes, in Ponting, Warne, McGrath and Gilchrist, some of the great players of the modern era. It looks like 'Advance Australia Fair'.

Maureen O'Sullivan

2009-12-08T17:29:00.002Z

Hollywood's Jane was born in Boyle (Maureen O'Sullivan, 1911 - 1998): What famous Hollywood Film Star was born in Boyle? This question, in a Boyle pub quiz, in the early eighties, received a puzzled reaction. My memory seems to suggest that it was not answered. Such was the veil that time had drawn over the name of Maureen O'Sullivan. Yet in the 1930s' this beautiful woman, born in Boyle in 1911, was a major Hollywood star and will always have a place in the history of film.

While Maureen O'Sullivan starred in many different and highly regarded films, such as 'David Copperfield' with W.C. Fields, she will be forever associated with the portrayal of the original, iconic, Jane, in the first series of Tarzan films. In these she co-starred with the great American Olympic swimmer, turned actor, Johnny Weissmuller.

Miss O'Sullivan was born in what is now Sheerin's shop in Main Street, Boyle. Her father, of Cork background, was an officer in the British army regiment The Connacht Rangers, based in the nearby imposing military barracks now known as King House. Her mother's family were Frazers of Scottish background.

Riversdale:
With the onset of the Great War her father was away on service for long periods. The family moved to the maternal home at Riversdale, Knockvicar, four miles from Boyle. This is an impressive house lying in beautiful countryside on the banks of the Boyle river and Lough Key. "My memories of those days will never leave me", she wrote. She attended Catholic Convent schools in Dublin and at Roehampton in England where a schoolmate was Vivian Leigh who became famous as Scarlett O'Hara in the classic film 'Gone With the Wind'.

Jane and Tarzan:
In the 1920s' the family settled in Dublin where the beautiful, blue-eyed, eighteen year old was seen by the American Film Producer/Director, Frank Borzage. He cast her in a film called 'Song of My Heart', a vehicle for the great Irish tenor Count John McCormack. McCormack helped her adjust to the hectic life of Hollywood and the big star environment which made the young lady initially and understandably pine for home. Then Maureen was cast in the role with which she will always be associated, that of Jane in the Tarzan series of films. The first of a series of five was titled, 'Tarzan The Ape Man', in 1932, which also introduced the swimming hero Johnny Weissmuller in the title role. This pair became the most enduring of all the Tarzan and Jane pairs. Her last 'Jane' film was 'Tarzan's New York Adventure' in 1942.

Among Hollywood Legends:
Miss O'Sullivan featured with many of the great stars of a golden period of Hollywood film. She starred with Charles Laughton, Norma Shearer and Frederic March in "The Barretts of Wimpole Street"; William Powell in the classic film, "The Thin Man" and with the master comic film makers 'The Marx Brothers' in, "A Day At The Races" and also with other greats such as Henry Fonda, Laurence Olivier and Greta Garbo.
She always insisted on being referred to as coming from Boyle; "No, I wasn't born in Dublin, I was born in Boyle, Ireland", she corrected a Canadian interviewer in 1934.

Marriage and Family:
Miss O'Sullivan met and married the Australian film producer/director, John Farrow and they had seven children. The demands of raising a large family meant few film appearances until much later. One of their daughters Mia Farrow was to become particularly well known. She starred initially in a popular television melodrama series of the 1960s', 'Peyton Place' and later in feature films. Mia became associated with Frank Sinatra, Andre Previn and Woody Allen.

Tragedy and Renewal:
Miss 0'Sullivan's husband John Farrow died suddenly in 1963 adding to the tragic loss of their son Michael, who was killed in a plane crash, at the age of nineteen. In 1985 romance blossomed again for this formidable lady and she married James Cushing. Her film and stage career had also revived. In 1979 she starred in a stage production of Shaw's 'Pygmalion' among others. She also starred in films the most notable being "Hannah and Her Sisters". In this film, directed by her then son-in-law Woody Allen, she starred with her daughter Mia and Michael Caine.

Triumphant return to Boyle:
The response or lack of it to my quiz question in 'The Ceili House Bar' in 1981 prompted a train of events that was to lead to a memorable festive day for the North Roscommon town. Sunday, August 7th 1988 was a day the sun shone and Hollywood came to Boyle. Miss O'Sullivan responded to an invitation to revisit her hometown initiated by an energetic local committee headed by Frank Geelan. The star paraded through the town in a vintage mobile, led by the Mullingar Marching Band. It was like a film scene itself as the cameras clicked and rolled. The crowds, recognising a unique occasion, got into, and helped create, an atmospheric welcome which surprised and delighted the star guest to the point where she was visibly overcome on reaching the home of her earliest years. The speeches of welcome were many and creative and Miss O'Sullivan responded in poetic and emotive terms:

"My life has come a big circle. Today the circle has kind of closed and I am home again where I was born and my happiest days were spent.
Whatever poetry is in my soul, whatever goodness is in my heart, whatever love I have of God, whatever it is, comes from here".

She endeared herself to the autograph seekers as the formalities proceeded.
A plaque was unveiled on the home of her birthplace. A commemorative tree was planted with a coin placed at its roots for luck and a leaf taken as a memory. Local ladies gave a spontaneous rendition of; "I'll take you home again (Maureen)". An evening of music, song and dance followed in The Royal Hotel with Jim Casserly leading the dance. Memories of a day full of nostalgia, emotion and of the happy jostling crowds come tumbling forward and what memories there are.

Monkey Puzzle:
On Monday the main event took place at the Riversdale House, home of the Burke family where Maureen had spent part of her childhood and now was an honoured guest. Friends and neighbours were entertained and made welcome with the star planting another tree, a monkey puzzle this time, emblematic of her early film associations. Then it was a tour of the hills and vales meeting long-lost relatives in Ballinafad, the dignitaries of Boyle town Council and being presented with a portrait of her father in the offices of The Roscommon Herald. The party returned to Riversdale by boat, across storied Lough Ce with its islands and history, disembarking at Clarendon Lock below the house.

And so it passed as all things do but I will not forget the two days I spent in the company of a Hollywood film star, Maureen O'Sullivan.
She was from Boyle, and hadn't forgotten.

Political Mouse

2009-12-08T17:23:00.000Z

A political mouse for a day! (First published in The Roscommon People, 13th April, 2007)
In the late sixties I was, for a short time, a ‘Pony Boy’ on the construction of the Victoria Line underground tube line. Last Saturday afternoon I was akin to a ‘mouse in a political laboratory’ which had been set up in King House in Boyle.
I hardly know how all this came about. I got a call from a friend, Barry Lowe, that an agency was recruiting an audience for an RTE political programme which was to be recorded in Boyle. I agreed to his passing on my number to the agency. Subsequently I got a call and was asked almost too many questions, on various aspects of human life. Apparently two political activists had got into the panel of a previous programme and had (arguably) skewed the supposed objectivity of its findings.
One of the questions I objected to, was: “Who did you vote for in the last election?” While many of my acquaintances seem to be able to tell me the answer I am rarely sure! After giving a muddied response to this call I was inducted. We were to be paid a reasonable fee for our leisure. With my own vision of the format being ‘The Questions and Answers’ style, things rested so.
A couple of days later I got a call from the Red Sea which surprised me as I do not know any people in the region but it resolved itself when it transpired to be Red C Recruiting Agency.

The Show’s the thing
On a sunny Saturday, I arrived at King House and aligned with a couple of equally bemused Boyle friends. Things began to shift somewhat when it became obvious that it was not just a Boyle audience and our confidence was dented when we saw people with folders and question sheets. Should we have done some homework?
Former Fine Gael supremo, Ivan Yates, and astute political commentator Noel Whelan breezed through the Long Gallery paying no attention to us -- shades of things to come. Media Consultant Terry Prone was also a participant. A cameraman took some shots and we did our extras bit by paying no attention as if this was routine stuff. After humble pie we were herded to the end of the corridor.
“You will be going up in a short while” we were assured after nearly an hour’s wait. Then an American gentleman with little personal introduction began a process of ‘organising’, as it turned out, his audience. “All those who voted Fianna Fail form into a line”. Nearly half the group fell in line. “You all go up”. It then transpired that there were more audience present that the required number and that some would have to be ‘cut’ -- but were assured of payment which assuaged the pain of dismissal.
I was more curious about the process and joined the next list whether it was mine or not. I was not going to let a principled stand get in the way of education!
On entrance to the ‘saloon’ as it is called in The King House, where the show was going to be recorded, I was just amazed at the amount of technology involved. This was no humble production.
The American gentleman, who, on later enquiry, was a Mister Frank Luntz, began organising his audience with Fianna Fail devotees on one side and the ‘rainbow coalition’ on the other side of the auditorium. I was surprised that a ‘Presenter’ was so ‘hands-on’ in the detail of arrangements but realised why this was so as events unfolded.

The Dial Meter
After a brief warm-up it was down to business with Mr. Luntz cracking the whip like a ring-master. Those with notes and prepared questions were informed that props were out of the equation. It is they who would be answering the questions. Very soon we realised this was no casual show where one could relax and smell the roses. We were going to work.
Questions, political images, audio clips and advertisements were hurled at us like tennis balls and it seemed we were expected to respond like an honours mathematics class. As usual in these situations, a minority were willing to contribute on many of these topics, and the rest of the audience were happy to let them do so. However when a member of the audience was not appropriately responsive the presenter found it hard to accept. By the end of four hours or so in ‘the saloon’ it was a chastened audience that retreated to the evening sunshine.
The purpose of it all was to gain a snapshot of the opinions of a ‘focus group’ of people who were not members of any political party. The problem here was that some of the group did not have much interest in politics anyway and their knowledge was in line with their interest. Indeed the recruiting agency went to such lengths to ensure that the audience was unaligned that they ended up with an audience that verged on the politically apathetic. It was expected that at least some of the audience would have seen the previous transmissions but few in fact had. This meant a hard day at the office for Mr. Luntz.
The images and messages of the six political parties were presented in their various guises with excerpts from their Ard Fheis speeches. During this process we were introduced to the ‘smart technology dial meter’ which you manipulated as you reacted to the varied political comments or even words.
Another scenario proposed was “Which of the six political leaders (Messrs. Ahern, Kenny, Rabbitte, Adams, McDowell, Sargent) would you like to be caught in a lift with for six hours? The Taoiseach seemed to do well, being readily identifiable. Mr. Kenny introduced the idea of ‘A Contract’ with the electorate which apparently is a part-creation, in the American political arena, of Mr. Luntz himself.

Frank Opinion, A Week in Politics Special
Apparently at the two previous shows in Dublin and Clonmel the audience was more vocal, politically aware and incisive. This was in stark contrast to our perceived political indifference. The issues that came across in Boyle to the behind the scenes analysts were: the significance of local factors and candidates and the fact that the rising tide of The Celtic Tiger hadn’t raised all boats, especially in this region. The process lasted over four hours with us and apparently the analysts spent another hour commentating on what they had observed. This will then be edited down to forty minutes for transmission on Sunday night after ten or so. So we look forward with a degree of apprehension to the final cut but then again I could be ‘airbrushed’ out of it and not get my Andy Warhol fifteen minutes of fame!

Mr. Frank Luntz
Oh yes who is Mr. Luntz? To my innocent surprise it took very little time with the internet ‘google’ to find a Mr. Frank Luntz, he being a man of substance and standing in the United States. Born in 1962 he is listed there as a “corporate consultant, pollster and political consultant (then) to the Republican Party. Mr. Luntz’s speciality is testing language and finding words that will help his clients sell their products or turn public opinion on an issue or a candidate.” An example of this softening process is referring to ‘Global Warming’ as ‘Climate Change’. He has worked with former Republican Speaker (Leader) of The U.S. Senate, Newt Gingrich, when he was seen as the primary opponent of President Clinton. Apparently he had a similar ‘focus group’ programme in 2005 for the top BBC current affairs show Newsnight which was said to have a big impact on David Cameron becoming Leader of the Conservative Party in Britain. It is very unlikely that our contribution will have such a dramatic impact!
So here we were, a humble audience in the presence of a real political scientist of international stature. I am afraid a good deal of his efforts, with us, got lost in translation and Mr. Luntz’s frustration was visible. He may not have appreciated the nuance that the BMW region is a different country to Dublin.
Personally, I took it all with a degree of stoic amusement but the clever contributions that I have thought of since rankle. As I said many times in a different environment: ‘Could have done better’. So if you ever get a call from the Red C find out more about what’s in the tin. Otherwise you might unwittingly end up as the subject of an experiment and be a mouse for a day.

Victoria Line Pony Boy

2009-12-08T17:19:00.001Z

Navvying in the Victoria Line tunnel. I was once a ‘Pony Boy’ on, or more accurately in, the Victoria Line tunnel, London.

In the late sixties the construction of this new tube line was the great Civil Engineering project in London. London’s and the world’s first underground transport system began in the late eighteen sixties and no new tunnel had been ‘cut’ under Central London since the early nineteen hundreds. The London underground is one of the great city transport networks of the world. Its distinctive classic-design map and station symbols are iconic features of that great city. The workers on the Victoria Line project were the crème de la crème of the Irish construction army in England at that time. Their ruggedness and courage combined with a swaggering attitude combined with the wages they received, achieved the status of folklore among a wide range of commentators at the time. They were used as subjects for media features and television advertisements. I, however, was but a youthful minnow in this pastiche.

Pit Boss and Pony Boy
The tunnel workers were mostly drawn from two Irish counties, Mayo and Donegal. Tunnels and ‘headings’ were their speciality. I, a teenager, had the temerity to join this group, albeit on the bottom rung of the pecking order, following in the footsteps of my older brother.
There was a definite hierarchy to the work-force in the actual tunnel. The overall co-ordinator was the ‘Pit Boss’. Next came the ‘Leading Miner’. He led ‘a gang’ of around half a dozen workers. The numbers depended on the dimensions of the tunnel. These specialist gangs travelled the country. They were marvellous workers who pursued their craft with, what appeared to be, reckless abandon in a most dangerous environment. Next to the ‘leading miner’ were the ‘miners’. They worked ‘at the face’. Their tool was the pneumatic drill or ‘air spade’ as it was called. The miners ripped the tunnel face with these spades and great lumps of London daub were levered onto a wooden gantry or stage. The next group in the hierarchy were the ‘miners’ labourers’ who shovelled this spoil into ‘skips’. Since our location was, technically, ‘a heading’ for a station area, there was no locomotive to pull these skips to the point of exit. This was done manually by the next group, the ‘pony boys’. I was a ‘pony boy’. This was for the subterranean session of my two sojourns on the line.

‘Banksman’
While these were the main bodies consigned to the depths there was a formidable backup on the surface, one of whom, ‘The Banksman’, was the link between the underworld and the surface. It was he who guided the ‘crane driver’ who otherwise worked in the blind.
The surface of the site had its varied group of construction huts for engineers, surveyors, agents, administration and a ‘rough and ready’ hut used for ‘tea breaks’ and ‘togging out’ to go down. The ‘Gov’nor’ was the General Site Foreman. One of the main Civil Engineering companies involved in the overall project was John Mowlem. The Warren Street heading, where I served my time, was being developed by a company called Mitchell.

Since I did two ‘tours of duty’ at Warren Street I covered a number of portfolios. I imagine the ‘Pit Boss’ was somewhat surprised when he first saw this whipper- snapper of a new recruit, there on my brother’s recommendation. The boss was an old time ‘Cockney’, hard as nails, with a face like well-worn leather. He did not suffer fools lightly and though he had this tough exterior I could not fault him in his dealings with me. I think his name, not unusually for a Cockney, was ‘Fred’ and I can still remember that weathered, older than his age, face.
My introduction to The Victoria Line was on the surface as the ‘Banksman’. Today this necessitates one of those ‘Health and Safety’ courses and a certificate but around the construction sites of The Victoria Line, ‘Health and Safety’, as a specific concept, had no more than a token hold. A number of basic hand-signals such as, ‘take the weight’, ‘raise’ and ‘lower’ were necessary for communicating with the crane driver high in his cab where the yardarm jib met the tower. There was no course required for these basic instructions.

Danger:

Building site management often played loose with safety and sites were often dangerous. The tunnels always had the whiff of danger about them.
Warren Street was close to the heart of London .The service shaft was about one hundred feet deep. The skips, with the mined earth, were pushed along the rail lines to the base of the shaft. They were then attached to the crane and the skip was raised from the shaft and raised over a gantry and tipped. On one occasion the tipping of the skip was nearly my undoing as it came off its tenuous clips tumbled down the face of the mound taking me with it. Apart from a few scars and wounded pride I survived. My other near serious encounter resulted from a misunderstanding with the mechanics of a large cement mixer and its mechanical shovel. There was a fatality once in our section, on an opposite shift, when a young labourer slipped off a tunnel gantry and was killed after his head hit the base ironwork, though the fall was not more than ten feet or so. While there was an investigation it was a short, sharp affair with little obvious reform resulting. On another occasion as the gang were hoisting one of the heavy cast iron plates into position in the ring the assisting air compressor ‘cut out’ resulting in the weighty iron crashing onto the platform close to the working gang. Two labouring colleagues, of just a few hours, looked at each other and without further adieu beat a hasty exit up the maze of ladders into the London haze feeling that the risks were not worth the reward. Their retreat was accompanied by a chorus of boisterous derision from the hardened gang for whom danger was but a harlequin. These rings were bolted together and a sealing grout, which contributed to the distinctive smell, was pressurised into the gaps.

Streets of London

The Banksman sometimes doubled as the humble tea-boy. This necessitated getting provisions from a nearby store. With muddy wellington-boots and a donkey jacket, showing the scars of wrestling with spoil skips, these daily trips presented moments of amusement as the bowler hats and office ladies steered a delicate evasive course on the sidewalk. Once, being short of some necessary provisions, on the night shift, I attempted to secure them in a very fashionable adjacent West End restaurant. My appearance in the doorway was met with a flurry of defensive activity as if an angel of recrimination had appeared. Bearing the label of a Victoria Line worker allowed for a tolerance of these diversions.

Enamel tea bucket

The tea-breaks were something of a rough ritual similar to the experiences of miners of much earlier times. A boiler, maybe a Burco if it was around at the time, heated the water. An enamel bucket was the improvised tea-pot with a similarly organised spout. Indeed improvisation was a key asset around the Line. The ingredient measurements were pretty clear cut. It was usually a straight quarter pound of tea. It was one pint or two of milk with the sugar measurement of even dimensions also. While it now sounds incredible these ingredients might be stirred with a new pick-axe handle. The food the workers brought to this party was similarly roughly apportioned including generous portions of cooked chicken. During these tea-breaks the gang would visit a nearby pub where they ‘skulled’ pints of bitter with speed, determination and appreciation. The pub landlord had to balance income from these muddied Celts with a possible reaction from the more theatrical clientele of The West End. Having slaked their thirst they returned to the hut for the tea and sustenance before descending to their underworld.

Diversion

Most of the workers lived in the Irish enclaves of Kilburn, Cricklewood, Camden Town or The Holloway Road. Here they got suited and booted for the week-end diversion which began in the pubs which became central to he lives of so many Irish labourers at that time. In Camden Town it might have been The Mother Redcap. On the Holloway Road there was a necklace of Irish bars from The Nags Head to The Archway Tavern including The Half Moon. Cricklewood had the famous tavern called The Crown. Then it was on to the dance halls, The Galtymore or The Gresham. Occasionally a very well dressed miner would arrive at the Warren Street hut much too early for his shift after such diversions.

Not Invited

The Victoria Line was officially opened in sixty nine by the Queen. The joke in The Archway Tavern was that our invitation cards to the opening must have gotten mislaid ! By then many of the gangs had progressed to other ‘big jobs’ as rumours began to circulate about an even bigger project which involved restricting the tidal flow of the Thames with a barrier. The piece de resistance in terms of this work, the Channel tunnel, lay in the future. I have not seen any account of its construction but I am confident that the miners of Donegal and Mayo were well represented.
Though it is nearly forty years ago I still retain a clear picture of those labyrinthine tunnels and particularly their odours, a much too polite a word for that experience. Occasionally in tube stations they return.

Most of all I, the pony boy, remember those cavalier miners adorned with the four-cornered knotted handkerchief as headgear and they swapping stories of Glenties, Ardara and Gweedore amid the din and the danger of the Victoria Line.

St. Patrick's Day - 2007

2009-12-08T17:13:00.000Z

A Crowded Day: St. Patrick’s Day turned out to be a busy day for me with quite a number of items of interest happening. The fact that they were running concurrently made it somewhat difficult to fully embrace them all. The weather was something of a spoilsport but the schedule still prevailed. My first ‘event’ was attendance at 9.30 Mass. The special programme, with a St.Patrick’s Day theme of course, including traditional music and Folk Group renditions set the day off to an appropriate start. The lack of shamrock and the national colours being worn was disappointing. I must do much better myself in this respect next year.

The Dublin Parade on Television acted as an early backdrop but it was really a day in which a pot pourri of participating in the town parade and a feast of T.V. sport made it a memorable day. First out to bat were the Irish Rugby Team in the sunshine of Rome. When I had to abandon this game Ireland had not gotten out of the lower gears, Ireland 13 Italy 12. ( The Final result Ireland 51 Italy 24)

Part Two, The Parade:
I was on official duty as M.C. for the Boyle St. Patrick’s Day Parade. I received the ‘running order’ of The Parade Floats from my liason officer of the day, Sean Daly. At Carty’s garage, as the bleak weather tried to rain on the parade, I tried to do some background homework talking to some of the float and parading groups, Lena McLoughlin of The Family Life Centre, Kathleen Hanmore, (A Lady For All Seasons), Sarah-Jane Daly and The Arts Workshop Group. It was then back to the reviewing stand having made some last minute sound alterations with the effervescent and finely bedecked Richie Burke. The Committee seemed to have such confidence in the M.C. that they made no serious intervention at the reviewing point. Soon it was time for a coalition of V.I.P.’s to assume their reviewing- stand positions.

'A' Coy of the 56 the Battalion led the parade with their usual aplomb and took the salute from Commandent Pat Bruen and Captain Danny Tiernan. My printed schedule got a quick test when item number two ‘A Donkey and Cart’ turned out to be ‘St. Patrick leading a Lhama’. From then on improvisation ruled. Cartys ‘Men in Black’ theme was fetching and Bertie looked well cast in the shades. Item number 13 on the pre-parade list was titled ‘ Apostolets’ (C. Brady). This had many possibilities. Christy turned up on ‘The Mobile Bar’. What connection this had with ‘Apostolets’ only Christy could translate. McGovern Plant Hire displayed an almost science fiction looking machine. The Family Life Centre went to a lot of trouble with a fine and overall prize-winning float, ‘bringing colour and support to the community’. The basketball group included a number of personnel from Lithunania, Latvia and Poland (as jack Charlton once said ‘those Balkan countries’!) with veteran coaches Geno Mattimoe and Joe Kennedy. Boyle Music Fest were there, already advertising their August Festival. The Fishing Club continued their traditional strong float entry. There were Elvis Presleys, Pink Elephants and St. Patricks (one with two dodgy looking angels). Boyle Marching Band did their colourful thing as the Conroy Family from Forest View turned up in several guises. The kids were out in force with Community Games, Scouts, Brownies, Cubs, Guides and footballers. D.J. Richie with his dancers did a twirl in front of the reviewing stand. A serious message was conveyed, in a stark symbolism, regarding the closures of various employment opportunities in the town. A fine crowd had come to town and despite the weather the humour and atmosphere were upbeat. The photographers, Mary, Christy, Sean, Donie and company snapped busily away while ‘moving picture’ impresario Peter Hanberry worked his medium. The prizes were presented to the winners; ‘The Family Life Centre’, ‘The Arts Project’, ‘Ladies U 14 Football’, ‘The Mobile Bar’ with ‘Brogans’ scooping the ‘Best Window’ display.
One of the objects of the exercise was to ensure that the town was ‘alive’ for the day. When I visited Daly’s Bar after the official duties this was very much in evidence and this was replicated through the town and is endorsed in the realboyle Guest Book. In Daly’s I saw the highlights of Ireland’s champagne performance against Italy and the dodgy French try which meant that Ireland were denied the Six Nations Championship.

Part Three, Later on the Home Couch:
While I could not avoid hearing the results of The All-Ireland Club Championships in Croke Park I had to wait until 8 o’clock to see highlights on R.T.E. as Crokes drew with Crossmaglenn and Ballyhale Shamrocks, with King Henry (Shevlin), overcoming Loughrea. In the interval I paid a distracted attention to the Wales win over England but never got ‘into it’. Paddy Ryan on his Shannonside traditional music programme ‘Green Groves’ rightly lamented how R.T.E. had given so little attention to Irish traditional culture on the National Day. I do not know if I can say too much in that regard following my reaction after a Nine O Clock News alert on the positive progress and dramatic possibilities of the Irish Cricket Team in Sabina Park, Kingston, Jamaca in The Cricket World Cup versus thoroughbred cricketeers Pakistan. I hotfoot it to my neighbours, O’Donohoes, to watch the climax of one of the greatest sporting achievements by an Irish team. Despite a few wobbles and an abysmal Pakistan performance Ireland emerged victorious, a bit like Boyle Celtic defeating Manchester United.

Miceál O'Callaghan (1923-1986)

2009-12-08T17:05:00.004Z

Miceál was a representative of time and place. Occasionally a person comes to represent his own area or county and is known by many within that county and many more beyond it. For the most part people are happy that this is so and feel a confidence that when represented by this individual they are well represented. For many years this was the case with Miceál O'Callaghan. He epitomised Roscommon in varying ways and at different levels. I think that it can be confidently claimed that there was no one else who knew his own County, its townlands, geography, history, highways and byeways, sociology and people as well as he did. This, also, in a very real way, extended to the Roscommon Diaspora within Ireland and across the seas. Long before I came to Boyle in 1972 I was aware of Miceál. There were plenty of reasons for this, the main ones being his involvement with the G.A.A. and the Roscommon Herald.

C.B.S.
Miceál O'Callaghan was born in September 1923, the central son in a family of ten, to two national school teachers Miceál and Annie O'Callaghan of The Don School, Cloonbonniffe, Castlerea. He went to secondary school at Roscommon C.B.S. where he was a contemporary of many of the great footballers of Roscommon's Golden era such as Bill Carlos and Phelim Murray.

Roscommon Herald.
He joined the Roscommon Herald in '43 and represented the paper in Mullingar and Ballinasloe before returning to Boyle in '52 becoming Editor in '54, a position he held with distinction, until his death.
In 1965 The Herald Works was tragically burned and he supervised the production of the paper in Ballina and later in Longford. In later years, along with being Editor, he wrote a long column titled, 'A Look Around with the Editor', in which he touched on a multitude of everyday issues and demonstrated his knowledge and feeling for his native county and gave voice to it.
An aspect of great people, that for me mark them out, is their range of abilities. A person may be an expert on one element of life, which is fine, but this gives a one-dimensional figure. Micheal was involved in a myriad of organisations and events and unlike some who make a living just attending meetings and functions he was willing to take his jacket off, roll up his shirt-sleeves and lead from the front. Indeed it can be taken as a positive and a negative in him that he was most comfortable out front in any organisation. The adage 'if you want something done ask a busy man' certainly applied here.

Many Associations.
He was most associated with the G.A.A. and arguably this was his first recreational love. He was County Secretary in 48/49 and County Chairman from 1973 until his death in 1986. Indeed I firmly believe that he would have gone on to become another Roscommon President of the Association had he lived.
He wrote long and vigoursly about G.A.A. affairs and his views were highly regarded. In 1945 he published a fine record of Rocommon's great years on the Gaelic football fields, 'Six Glorious Years', an invaluable source for that time and happily reproduced by his brother Colm in '93.
He was interested in promoting all things Irish and was a fluent Irish speaker and a member of the various Irish Language promotional organisations. He was central to the scripting and producing of the much-loved Pantomines in Boyle for fifteen years. He was a dedicated member of The Pioneer Movement and was a critic of the 'drink culture'. He was a deeply Catholic man and a supporter of his parish in all things. Indeed he was the only lay - person I heard give a homily, on one occasion, at a Sunday Mass, an interesting concept.

The Great Fleadhs.
One of his great loves, and I feel his best times, was his involvement in the promotion of traditional Irish music as a founding member of Comhaltas Ceoltoiri Eireann in the County and especially in Boyle. He held many official positions here again and was national President for three years. He was deeply involved in the great All –Ireland Fleadhs in Boyle in '60 and'66. He was to write vividly about these 25 years later, in '85, under a great picture of a crowded town and a headline “Will Boyle ever see the likes of this again?” he wrote “….the memory of it is still fresh in the minds of thousands… and what memories they are…To try and sort them out is almost impossible for they come crowding into the mind in a confusion of sounds and faces and incidents that prevent the pictures from coming sharply into focus, the skirl of the pipes, the lilt and lift of the dance tunes, the ballad singing and dancing on the pavements, the laughter and noise of the happy laughing crowd seem to hang over the streets of Boyle”. I quote this as representative of his feeling in his writing.

Tourist Promotion.
Micheal O Callaghan was actively involved in the promotion of the area in Tourism and was Chairman of the regional Tourist Board, Lakeland Tourism and other related organisations. He was thus central to the great tourist boom of the sixties and seventies. As I have already stated he was not averse to rolling up the sleeves when as a member of Boyle Development Company, with his friends Jimmy Flaherty, Jimmy Sheeran and Anthony Martin, they cleared footpaths in Lough Key Forest Park which they negotiated for the people of the area and the country. Though the same park is well below par today we owe them a great debt for its acquisition and if Micheal was alive and well much of today's nonsense would feel the wrath of his pen and energies.

Political Interest.
Micheal could be regarded as a consensus Nationalist with Fianna Fail sympathies. This despite the fact that his father was a Cumann na nGaedhael Councillor in the '20s'. He was Chairman of Boyle Town Commission for a decade. He did seek a Dail nomination in the '70s' but he was not a grassroots politician or amenable to the compromises involved. He was unsuccessful in this and in a Senate bid, which forum would have suited his wide- ranging talents.

In Print
In 1964 he wrote an important account of the War of Independence in Roscommon which was also been republished by his brother Colm. This resulted from his interviews with old I.R.A. people, for The Roscommon Herald Centenary Supplement in 1959, itself an important County Historical Document.

Opponent.
Micheal was a formidable opponent, being in a strong position as a newspaper Editor. I remember once the Herald's court- reporter being asked to leave by the presiding Judge, for a particular case, which was, apparently, improper court procedure. Micheal buttoned the legal people at lunch-time and whoever or whatever was to benefit from non-reporting, suffered a stronger headline the following week.
There was an ongoing saga with the irascible Roscommon T.D. Jack McQuillan in which the paper's motto of 'audi alter am partem' (hear both sides) was questionable.

Travel.
He travelled widely abroad especially keeping contact with the Roscommon community in Britain and the U.S. who he never forgot in the paper, and for whom he provided a very tangible link with their homeland in times of more limited communication. He was a great supporter of Roscommon Associations at home and abroad and they returned that regard and respect. He was a man of great patience as exemplified when he was so often called from his office in The Herald to talk to people at reception regarding their roots or a myriad of topics. For a writer this must have been trying. He is remembered with fondness by The Herald staff and the many visitors to his Greatmeadow home where tea and good conversation was abundant.

In writing I cannot bring to mind weaknesses as I would not like to just give a view of him as without blemish, as some sort of local Renaissance man. I suppose his self-confidence, stubbornness, his angst when wronged as when the R.T.E. Authority, of which he was a member, was fired in the early seventies, in controversial circumstances, are these weaknesses or just jealousy?

Family and Friends.
Nearly always by his side was his wife Nellie a character in her own right with an acerbic tongue and impish curiosity. Nellie died in August '93. Miceál's daughter Christine continues the G.A.A. tradition while her son, Micheal's grandson, John Tierney is an accomplished footballer with Cavan. They would be a proud grandparents had they seen this. While there were many great players to whom he was close his favourite player and friend was Dermott Earley. He had many great friends none closer than Phil and Mae Gannon of Castlerea, Dr. Hugh Gibbons of Keadue, his Greatmeadow neighbour Barry Feely, Sean Young, Pat Lavin of Tibohine and New York and the Lawrie family in Birmingham.

Assessment.
Micheal was first of all 'a newspaper man' in the classic mould reminiscent of those of the late 1800s' who played such an important role in the political struggles of their time. He could have gone to work with great possibilities at national level. He chose, very deliberately, to stay in his own county and this was demonstrably evoked in the award-winning R.T.E. programme of '75 titled 'My Own Place'. Roscommon was much the better for that in its representation and recording.
On his headstone, over the quill and inkpot symbols of his profession, are lines of his own song in praise of his favourite place Lough Key:

“ Far away from the Country in a new land to toil
God be with you Lough Key near the old town of Boyle”.

In his graveside oration, his friend and former President of the G.A.A., Dr. Donal Keenan ended by saying; “ is feidir linn a ra, nach mbeidh a leitheid ann aris”.

Though it is now coming towards the twentieth anniversary
of his passing, the truth of that summary is all too evident,
regarding this great Roscommon man.

Sean Young

2009-12-08T16:57:00.001Z

Still Young At Heart:

With an enthusiasm undimmed by a lifetime's involvement, Sean Young continues to train under-age teams with a passion, dedication, skill and optimism which few could equal. There are few also who could equal his G.A.A. Curriculum Vitae which has stretched through the decades and through three provinces. These are his native Ulster, Leinster and for over thirty years now, here in Boyle. In that time he has tasted the sweetness of victory and the bitterness of defeat, praise and cynicism in their various measures. Yet as he recites from the old Kipling monologue;

"If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two imposters just the same
You'll be a man my friend"

Derry Roots
Sean was born in the townland of Ballymaguigan on the shores of Lough Neagh in County Derry. While the occupation of his working life, Bank Official, has brought him to many towns his anchor in life has always been his native place. This is reinforced by his family and the circle of friends which emanated from his boyhood GAA Club St. Treas.

Sean was greatly influenced by his father 'The Master'. He went to the great nursery of Gaelic Games, St. Malachy's in Belfast. His first Bank placement was in Ballinamore, County Leitrim. This was followed by a period in Castlewellan County Down where a playing colleague was the great Down player Pat Rice. In 19 and 55 (as he enunciates it himself) he Captained the Derry Junior team to an All-Ireland title over Mayo at Charlestown. He played in two Ulster Senior Finals in the 50s' and was on two McKenna Cup and a Lagan Cup winning sides.

After a spell in Meath it was back to Ballymaguigan for a great Senior Championship victory in '62 in the company of his great friend, the legendry Derry player Jim McKeever. The well-travelled inter-county manager, Eamon Coleman, was also on the team. Sean had a great football spell with Seam Mac Cumhalls of Ballybofey winning two County Senior Championships and disappointingly losing out on an Ulster Club title. Sean married Anne in 1962 and pays tribute to her patient tolerance of his sporting passion.

Boyle's Abbey Park
The distinctive Derry accent was first heard in Boyle GAA's spiritual home, the Abbey Park, in the summer of '72. He had just been transferred to Boyle as Manager of the then Northern, now National Irish, Bank. He was soon involved, with John McGowan and the Boyle team as a player and trainer as they reached a Junior and two Intermediate County Finals. His talents were quickly noted at County level. On the instigation of Micheal O'Callaghan, then County Board Chairman, he was appointed Coach to the County Senior team in '73. This policy was then in its infancy but about to blossom. He introduced an innovative training regime and a tactical dimension which brought success and laid the foundations for the County's great period of the later seventies.

League Final of 1974.
Future success was not immediately evident in his first game in charge of Roscommon in which they dispatched a lowly Dublin to Division Three. If anyone had suggested that Dublin would win the '74 All-Ireland (beating Galway) and that Roscommon would miss out on a National League title after a replay against Kerry, they might have been shown the way to the local hospital. That avoidable League Final defeat is one of Sean's deep disappointments. John Egan's late Kerry goal, in the drawn game, with the Roscommon goalie injured, is etched in his memory.
Sean speaks glowingly of that Roscommon team of '74 and puts them ahead of the All-Ireland finalists of 1980. The names jump out; Lindsay, Heneghan, Regan, Kerrane, Earley, Kelly and Freyne and always the one he rate best of all, Harry Keegan. Sean was succeeded in late '75 by Tony Whyte. This transition could have been dealt with more diplomatically. The more things change the more they stay the same.

Moulding Youth
Sean did not sulk on the sidelines but took over and moulded a talented Boyle under-age team which included, McLoughlin, Fitpatrick, Nerney, and Sean's own son Liam. In this he was assisted by the writer. Double acts were very popular then, even in coaching! It is said that Sean is at his best in this under-age coaching context. This side had many fine tussles with strong teams such as the Clann na Gael of McManus, Nicholson and Pettit; the Roscommon Gaels side of Hession and McNeill; the Elphin side powered by Kelly and Glancy and Michael Glaveys with their stars Paul Earley, Morgan and Doorey. These Club rivals combined to enable the Roscommon Minor team to reach the All-Ireland Semi-Final where they were beaten by a great Cork side. The Boyle youngsters helped in Sean's next Club success with a county Junior title in '81 followed by a memorable Intermediate victory over St. Ronans in '83 at Frenchpark. That team was; John Finn (ably substituting for Gerry O'Dowd who was away),Gerry Carty, John O'Dowd, Dessie Mcloughlin, Gary Wynne (Capt.), Christopher O'Connor, Peter Bolger, John Finneran, liam Young, Sean Daly, Vincent Flanagan, Kevin Young, Gerry Nerney, Colm Loftus, Paul Beirne, with John Joe Carty and Kevin Mahon.

County Calls Again
It was back to the front lines of inter-county coaching in '86 and another bitter pill. The gods did not smile on Sean's Roscommon in the Connacht Final when a late Stephen Joyce goal 'robbed' Roscommon after an injury to Harry Keegan. A strange below-par performance and the curse of the late goal struck again in '87 in Sligo and heralded the end of Sean's Senior involvement with the County. The margin between the elation of victory and the dejection of defeat can so often be minimal. "Ironically", reflects Sean, "these teams did the business after I had done a good deal of the ground-work!" Since his initial involvement in 1973 he has been involved fifteen years with Roscommon teams at under 16, Minor, U 21, Junior and Senior levels allied to a greater number of years involved at Club level.

Return to the Abbey Park
Still Sean soldiered on with Boyle and in '94, the Intermediate team, with a blistering display, captured a second title, defeating St.Dominicks. The team; J. Conroy, G.Wynne, V. Flanagan, M.McGovern, S. Bohan, G.Cregg, F. Costello, P.Carty, T. Ryan, N. O'Donohoe, M. Smith, E. Cregg, O.O'Donohoe, S. Kerins, M. Tormey, with N. Casey, A. King, D. McLoughlin, J. O'Dowd, R. Nerney, B. Shannon, A. Lavin, B. Kennedy, J. Sweeney, D. Kelly, P.Flaherty, and J. Beirne. This was one of the town's best ever teams with power players in abundance. Boyle returned to Senior status and were still a force there when Sean passed on the reins of management in '98.

A creaking hip kept reminding Sean to take time out which he found difficult to do. Eventually he acquiesced. The creaking was attended to and he returned to various under-age teams in the Club and schools. His new squads having won U 12 and U 16 at Division 2 these are now competing in division 1 at Minor level. He has extended his activity to assisting voluntarily at Boyle Primary Schools.

GAA Friendships
Sean was part of a very active and successful Scor (GAA social programme) in the seventies. Accompanied by P.J. and Maureen Keane, Rosaleen Moran and Una Beirne he participated in the All-Ireland Final of the Ballad group. They did not win out due to flawed adjudication but they were selected for an R.T.E. highlights programme. He is a talented singer whose anthem is, appropriately, 'The Town I Loved So Well'. He regards the GAA as a great organisation despite its top level bureaucracy. He sees friendships in every Club in the County, some formed in the furnace of sideline argument. "Talking to Micheal O'Callaghan was like talking to my own father", he recalls. No finer tribute could he pay. "I must mention Barry and P.J., Ernie, Michael Costello and John McGowan and…" Once a list starts it can take on a momentum of its own.

He admits his passion and regard for so many players he has been involved with through the years; "I'd like to thank all the players (Club and County) whom I have coached and are still friends. Indeed now some of my 'students' are young ladies which is an interesting challenge for an old timer!"

In answer to my query regarding the future he answers with optimism; "Hopefully we'll get a Senior Championship so that the major ambition will be fulfilled. Do you know something, if Ryan's shot had hit the net instead of the crossbar, against Clann , '96 could have been our year. I hope to continue to give ye a wee hand with the under-age. I couldn't be passing the Abbey Park without going in anyhow."

He is proud of his family, wife Anne and children Aileen, Liam, Jody, Sean, Paul and Catherine and now the next generation, his eight grandchildren. Paul is heavily involved in the creative arts as co-founder of 'Cartoon Saloon' based in Kilkenny. Sean retired from the Bank in '97 and was feted at a memorable night, in the then Forest Park Hotel, by the local business community and Boyle GAA Club and uniquely by Mac Cumhals of Ballybofey and Ardagh of Longford.

In the enveloping gloom, of a late evening, in the Abbey Park, in the Spring of 2006, while most of the panting figures are indistinguishable, Sean's distinctive voice marks him out. This voice has echoed across all the Gaelic fields in Roscommon, and many beyond, in exasperation, in disagreement but most often in encouragement.

I, a friend also, marvel at his youthful enthusiasm and reflect on how lucky Boyle GAA Club and its youth has been to have benefited from his spirit, for few, if any, have given as much to its cause.

Let's go to York

2009-12-08T16:34:00.001Z

The school trip, especially if it is to another country, is one of the most memorable experiences of school days. Such a trip, to the Yorkshire Dales, with its wealth of grandeur and history, was undertaken by a group of students from Saint Mary's College, Boyle during the Easter of 1986. This is the country of Emmerdale and dreaming spires. These spires belong to some of the architectural gems of Europe. Our interpreter and guide is Mr. Tivnan whose forte this is.

Parting
The trip begins at the railway station at Boyle as parents transfer their care to the tour organisers. A parting for just a few days but a parting nonetheless. A reserved carriage, just as well. Dublin…people with serious faces step out to face the challenge of the capital. We saunter raggedly to the Bus Arus…efficiency…we are expected. We see the hand of the Boyle stationmaster, Mr. Browne, in this. A helpful C.I.E. man…bus to The North Wall (we had thought of walking!). A group travel agent meets us with final documentation at the boat gangway. We wind our way slowly on board. A quick scouting team returns to lead us to a near empty 'Observation Deck'. Seats are claimed by depositing luggage on same. Then the flurry of to and fro as exploration begins. Chips and orange are located while fourth years David Carroll and Tom Ryan explore a world of tapes and the new Walkman radio. The younger set, seek the movie hit of the moment, 'Crocodile Dundee'. John Tiernan has seen it before! Duty Free, duty done. 'To sleep perchance to dream and in that…' Mr. Flanagan succeeds with face buried in…Mr. Tivnan keeps vigil. Rules are reiterated.

Liverpool Dock
'The day dawns…' Liverpool in sight…a slow wind up the Mersey… 'Ferry across the..' We organise to disembark. Through Customs …a suspicious young Kennedy is selected for further examination. All clear. Our Coach and first encounter with our driver, John. Teething problems. All aboard. Out of Beatle Country past Manchester and across the Pennine backbone of England. Sleep. Food…a motorway Café …revival. Mr. Tivnan gets family greetings in Leeds. Finally we arrive at our destination, York. The Hostel feels we are too early. Then the first of how many cathedrals?

York Minster
Our first cathedral is the magnificent York Minster. We say suitable things. We are brought to the Crypt or is that a later cathedral? Then 'The Shambles'. Not what you might think but the narrowest of streets where the upper stories stretch out, as if to touch. We will get very familiar with this street.

Leak Soup
'The Hostel', again the national emblem of Wales as the soup. Debate as to whether the sponge and custard is more substantial than the main course. A night walk through York. Jack the Ripper. The daily hustle is replaced by peace and quietness. The daffodils, 'ten thousand saw I at a glance…". Hostel…codes decoded, phone calls home. All is well.

Fountains Abbey
The coach winds down to the valley and there stretched out lie the remains of the great Abbey set, of necessity, beside its quarry. Magnificent. One of the most impressive sights I have seen. Through the valley to the high tower, across the bridge to the awaiting coach. The sun shines. On to Rippon with its evening bugler and then back to York Transport Museum. So this is what Stephenson's Rocket looked like! From the Transport to the Military and C18 Museums, a vividly re-created Dickensian world.
Evening lunch, spam, potatoes, coleslaw. Must eat. Contact home again. T.V. Dundee reach a European Final.
Early morning. We pay our last visit to Old York to see the hand of St. Margaret Clitheroe encased. Goodbye to The Minster, the Barrs, the Walls and the daffodils.
Our next stop is Durham with its own great Cathedral and university. The rushing vanguard get a cool reception at the Cathedral door but our guide's diplomacy sorts it out. "Why couldn't you just wait?" Our second and last overnight accommodation is a sort of D.I.Y. Hostel. Dormitories allocated, beds assembled. Even our restrained exuberance creates dislocation in this Dingley Dell location. Mr. T. calls the roll while Mr. Tivnan calls 'order'.

Hadrian's Wall
Our quaint abode poses an early question. Breakfast.. 'to be or not to be..'? A Seth-like figure has gone for supplies. Waiter service means all hands to the tiller. Mr. McDonagh's camera is missing. Regretable but educational. On to the wall which the ingenious Romans had built to repel the equivalent of the Scots of those days. The R.A.F. salute us with an ear-splitting fly past. Mr. Tivnan excavates a weighty souvenir. Mr. Flanagan recovers a loss. We are Liverpool bound. The Pogues are on the air. Through the Lake country of Wordsworth. We have time to spare and so cruise slowly like an E.S.B. service vehicle returning to its depot in the early evening. Liverpool again. Circle completed. More cathedrals! The unusually shaped Catholic one referred to as Paddy's Wigwam'. Then a huge ugly mass of rock, posing as another. Enough of that.

Down to the river and the River Inn Restaurant. A decent meal as if trying to let us go with a good taste in our mouths. Tip and goodbye to our driver John who after initial issues became a companion. All aboard. A Carlow Convent group create a diversion. The film is, 'The Mission'. Mission fulfilled. Tiredness as the final legs fleet by. We are back in Boyle station with everyone. Relief, no disaster, even minor, to report. Welcomes, as the sun shines appropriately. Thanks tendered.

Mr.Tivnan salutes a query with an extravagant response
"We are back enriched"

Noel Derby

2009-12-08T15:50:00.001Z

....Stranger on a summer Sunday morning, on the town bridge, to Noel; "Could you tell me where one man with a hangover could get an early drink?" Noel; "No, but I could tell you where two men with a hangover could"
...Stranger leans out of a car window and cryptically addresses Noel on the bridge; "The quickest way to Dublin Mister?" Noel, "Telephone!
....A delicate man to Noel (on bridge) "Could you tell me where Killaraght graveyard is?" Noel, Why what was wrong with the one you were in?"
....Stranger "Have you lived all your life in Boyle?" Noel, "No, not yet!"
....Tourist "Are there any fish in that river?" Noel, "Well if they are not in the river I don’t know where they are " (attributed).
....Noel in Sloans to Joe Simon "Can I have a tin of white emulsion paint?" Joe "Will I put it in a bag for you?" Noel, " No, just leave it in the tin"
....Same location. Noel "I want a pound of nails."Joe "how long do you want them? "Noel " Oh, I want to keep them."
....Noel was once painting in The Infirmary (I think it was called, where Brogan’s Opticians are now). He was painting the ceiling from a table and some spots of paint were dropping on to the table. The matron seeing this came in with a sheet of newspaper; "Excuse me Mr. Derby but I’ll put this under you on the table, it will help". Noel "It’s ok Matron I can reach it as I am."
....In a Boyle Bar after he had made a few trips to Roscommon Hospital, being ill, a wag suggested that they might give him a white coat he was there so regularly. Noel responded "So long as they don't make a habit out it …"
....A tourist engaging Noel on the bridge on the habits of fish especially salmon, Tourist "I wonder why salmon make such a tremendous effort and journey to return to their original breeding grounds?" Noel, "Well until salmon can talk we'll not know that" (Attr).

Dermot Earley

2009-12-08T15:47:00.004Z

Every country, every county and every parish requires its heroes. For almost two decades Earley filled that role for Roscommon people at home and abroad. He reached the highest levels in sport and in his chosen profession. He set standards of professionalism, sportsmanship, dedication and example for more than a generation of Roscommon's young people and indeed for many outside the county. In the seventies and eighties Roscommon people could walk taller in the glow of his reputation.

Football Odyssey:
Dermot's football exploits are pretty well documented. In the mid-sixties, with the end of the O'Malley era, Roscommon football supporters wondered if they would see a comparable player, in the primrose and blue, again. Little did they realise that such a player would emerge within a just a few years. Rumours of this 'special' player filtered through the County in the mid-sixties. His football progression followed a record-breaking introduction of playing Minor, under- 21, Junior and Senior in 1966. He was part of a fine All-Ireland winning under- 21 side in '66 and the future looked bright for the St. Nathy's star. It was to be six years before the Senior side captured a Connacht crown in the scorching heat, of a July Sunday, in Castlebar, in the first eighty minute Final. Earley was an irresistible force at midfield. The characteristics of his play were all in evidence, with sublime fielding, driving solo-runs and precision free-taking. There were disappointments, of course, like the League Final defeat of '74 assuaged by the first All-Star award that year with the second coming in '79. The latter half of the seventies was a golden period for Roscommon with the four Connacht title wins of '77, '78, '79 and '80. As has been said so often this fine team deserved the ultimate award but this eluded them especially in the '80 Final which they might have won. The picture of a downcast Earley, as he left Croke Park after the All-Ireland, contrasted with him being carried shoulder-high after their Semi-Final victory over Armagh. Dermot did not retreat from the challenge of recovery after this deep blow but continued to inspire for a further five years in the County colours. It was an emotional day when he finally called time, (with Pat Lindsay), on his Inter-County career after defeat by Mayo in Hyde Park with an unprecedented tribute by friend and foe alike. The Mayo players carried him shoulder high from the field.

Michael Glavey's:
Dermot of course was devoted to his Club in West Roscommon, Michael Glaveys, named after a patriot soldier of the foundation of the state. His father, Peadar, was responsible for founding the Club. He helped Glaveys to Championship wins at Intermediate level in 1970 and 1972. The friendships, comradeship and fun with his neighbours and friends are always with him, like a band of brothers. This was cemented with the official opening of the Club's fine ground at Ballinlough, named in honour of his father who had died in 1983, and had been a seminal influence on him. Later he transferred to Sarsfields in his new home of Newbridge, County Kildare where he continued to inspire them to further success. On his arrival for a work posting in New York in '87 he was recruited for the Roscommon team and was part of a Junior Championship winning campaign. He also returned to Roscommon for a spell as Manager of the County Senior team in the early nineties and followed this with a similar posting with the Kildare team. He interest was maintained as he followed the fortunes of his son, Demot Junior, in the Lily-White colours of Kildare. Roscommon continued to honour one of its greatest players as he was unanimously selected on the Roscommon team of the Millennium.

Major-General Earley:
In his chosen career, as an officer in the Irish Army he has distinguished himself by reaching the top echelon. This rise has seen him give distinguished service in many troubled parts of the world, where the presence of Irish peace-making forces, with the United Nations, has brought hope and inspiration and left a respect and regard for the Irish Nation. From his cadetship in 1965 his profession has brought him to the Golan Heights, the Lebanon, Iraq, Angola and South Africa and many more danger zones. In 1987 he received the prestigious appointment of Assistant Military Advisor to the Secretary-General of the United Nations, Mr. Perez de Cuellar, in New York. This led to his ever supportive wife, Tipperary-born Mary, and the family living in New York and becoming involved in Roscommon Gaelic activities in 'The Big Apple'. Dermot's work involved continued travel to the world's troubled areas. On his return to Ireland his career continued to receive recognition and advancement to the level it is at today. So behind the genuine warmth and accessibility of the man there is the necessary steel of the leader as was so evident on so many sporting fields.

Man of Roscommon:
Dermot Earley has an abiding interest in the fortunes of Roscommon and is one of its outstanding ambassadors. This is demonstrated by his willingness, in his busy schedule, to make time and return to the County and its far-flung tendrils, often to present medals to young players, to formally open pitches or to give one of his inspiring addresses. In these he will talk with humility and enthusiasm of; tradition, the role and benefit of sport, the pride in the jersey worn whatever the level, and of discipline, discipline, discipline. Throughout 2006 he often visited the Roscommon Minor team during their great All-Ireland victory march and was an inspiration to them. He was feted in New York at a huge function when Roscommon played there in the Connacht Championship. At the function he enunciated what his native county meant to him in an emotional address.
His presence gives these functions the imprimatur of approval and the encouragement to go on to set and achieve further goals.

It will give those present the opportunity to say, into the future...

'Ah yes, Dermot Earley, he was one of the greatest footballers ever. He played for Roscommon you know. I saw him play many times. He could reach the stars. A pure gentleman. A big broad smile and a powerful hand-shake coming straight from the shoulder. I met him a couple of times once at the re-opening of Boyle's Abbey Park in 2005 and again at their Dinner Dance in January 2007'

(first published in the Journal/Book to mark the Roscommon versus New York in New York in the Connacht Champioship on May 14th 2006)

Barefaced

2009-12-08T15:43:00.002Z

"To be(ard) or not to beard that is the question…"

It is a question which has been a little on my mind since November last, especially as the East wind has been more than usually unkind this winter. For a decade past that would not be an issue as my face smiled under its protective brush. Now that Bob Geldof has stirred the conscience of us all what might be done?
» To begin at the beginning. I grew a beard because I always knew I would. Perhaps it was the influence and impression of the Che Guevarra posters which conveniently covered 'accidents' to walls and doors in University (Disney) Land in Galway.
The growth, however, took place in the anonymity of the London streets. It was not that I was going through what my friend T. Hill used to call a 'down n' out phrase'. It was the summer of '74 and while I was respectably employed from September to June in St. Mary's College, that summer I had returned to London to the 'Green' Murphy. The Murphy brothers were known as, 'the green' and 'the grey' as they used different coloured lorries to distinguish themselves. This was a simple expedient in things otherwise alike. Murphy's headquarters was in Kentish town close to the better known Camden Town where Fagin-like, Sullivan John and his acolytes lived.
I was part of what was dramatically called 'a search and find' gang. Search for, find and repair gas leaks in a designated area of East London. The Gas Board or Telephone Company usually pinpointed the location of the leaks as this apparently played havoc with their equipment and by its nature was dangerous. Our gang descended on the location in blitzkrieg fashion, in our distinctive green van, with the attached compressor engine hopping in our train. We took particular delight in arriving at a busy junction, such as East Ham, and urgently erecting, 'no smoking', 'diversion', 'one lane only' signs. We then activated the jack-hammers sufficiently to insert and leave them erect in the ground. By then we discovered it was lunch -time and proceeded to the adjacent 'Rose and Crown' for the necessary pints of Red Barrel and the cheese rolls of the time." We spent a generous hour there, playing Shanghai, while a distracted London Bus Inspector tried valiantly to bring some order to the bus schedules now in chaos, as we tried just as hard to arrive at a double one from a single three. My adventures in London are another story and I have digressed towards them as I always seem to do!

The beard:

The beard progressed nicely through the fashionable stubble toward the foundations of a Sikh attribute." Its development necessitated the inconvenience of missing just one Saturday night at The Gresham (another story).
My bearded return to Fuerty (my native shore) caused little reaction as they were rarely quite sure where I was in those care-free summers, as the decade of the sixties borrowed from the seventies, to continue the party. The only incident I remember was in my second home, Boyle. Here I was enthusiastically welcomed 'home', in Grehan's bar, by John Mahon as he stood in exaggerated disbelief at the fact that I had not yet gone into the kitchen to see my 'mother Bridie'. John believed me to be Tony alright but a different one, Tony Grehan, to whom I was said to bear a resemblance."
Through the seventies, while staying in Paddy Ryan's flat, in Main Street, the beard mirrored periods of untidiness in a life being smothered by G.A.A. jerseys. Like creeping ivy making inroads through the windows of an old house it tended to spread out over my face defeating the timid efforts of the battery razor. The face would appear in occasional photographs as no more than a black blur. In the odd times of resolution, such as Easter, it would be trimmed to within a millimetre of its existence.
To abandon the beard entirely was a latent impulse to be triggered by a respectable excuse. That excuse presented itself in October '84 when Boyle Round Table was having a novelty auction as part of the Ethiopian Famine Appeal. I mutedly offered up the beard. The notion spread when mentioned in class and an active committee of students showed that anything can be commercialised and over one hundred and thirty pounds was the value placed on it in a short campaign.
D-Day arrived. At an appropriate juncture in the Auction the scene was set, with as much theatre as possible, and then barber Gerry Morris did the honours with obvious satisfaction. Lochlainn, my four year old son, watched curiously, having earlier wondered what good my beard would do for the starving children in Africa. In ten minutes or so I had all variations of facial embellishment from beard through stubble and moustache to zero.

Reaction:

Subsequent reaction was varied and curiously interesting. Mrs. Nellie O'Callaghan told me a long hidden truth; " that ould beard did nothing for you anyway". Another lady exclaimed that I looked well, with undertones of relief that another John Merrick had not been uncovered. My wife was a little uncomfortable with the 'new' man while my two year old was re-assured by voice. In Fuerty a local welcomed me home from England mistaking me conveniently for my brother who always stood him a drink.
I went through the full gambit of peoples' observational powers. Some recognised something to be different but could not quite pin-point it. Others, used as an opportunity to do what they had wanted to do for some time and ignored me. A concise salute like 'nice to see you' held the touch of ambiguity.
For myself I suddenly found out I was going to have to shave again and catch up on the ten year advance in that technology, overnight. What of the future now that the emotional billboard stands defaced and this being a year ('85) of elections and new parties, not a time to create confusion and attempt re-branding perhaps. As the old Scottish King exclaimed, "Is this a razor I see before me?"

Billy Kelly

2009-11-29T04:02:00.007Z

A Fifties Boxer from Derry:
I have a memory, either real or imagined, of shedding tears on a May night in 1955 after listening to a sports commentary on Radio Eireann. As a boy, in the later fifties, I was influenced by my father’s interest in boxing. As in so many things, especially sports, the radio was the medium which brought the excitement of such remote events into peoples’ consciousness. While commentators like Eamon and later Noel Andrews did their best with the commentary to fill in the detail and relay the atmosphere, the boy’s imagination knew no bounds in painting the wider canvas. If the fight venue was the United States it meant something like a three am sitting. With one of the Clay versus Liston fights the effort was hardly rewarded with the fight ending in the first round. The fifties was an interesting decade for the sport with Marciano, Moore, Patterson, Cooper, Robinson and Turpin. Ireland too had its boxing icons both amateur and professional. There were some outstanding boxers from Northern Ireland such as, Freddie Gilroy and Johnny Caldwell. Straddling a previous era had been one of the greats in World Flyweight Champion Rinty Monaghan. I remember Caldwell losing to his nemesis Eder Joffre in Brazil for the undisputed World Bantamweight Title in 1962. Later that same year Caldwell was defeated by fellow Belfast man Gilroy.

Donnybrook:
The fight which made that earlier tearful impression on me, however, involved a Derry boxer named Billy Kelly. The fight in question took place on May 27th 1955 in the C.I.E. bus garage at Donnybrook, Dublin. Billy Kelly’s opponent for the European Featherweight Title was Ray Famechon of France, a World Title contender. Kelly had won the British and Commonwealth Title the previous year. In doing so he and Billy Senior became the only father and son to win the same titles. The Donnybrook fight went thirteen rounds and when, at the end, Famechon’s hand was raised the booing was reported to last ten minutes. Few of the six thousand crowd agreed with the Dutch referee’s decision and he had to be given a police escort afterwards. The sports’ correspondents endorsed the crowd’s view the following day.
Billy Kelly who was born in April 1932, is credited with 83 fights, winning 56, losing 23 with four draws. He himself feels that the total figure is short by six with fifty four in his amateur career. His father was also a noted boxer, Billy ‘Spider’ Kelly. The ‘Spider’ addition came from an opposing fighter’s description of his boxing style. The ‘Spider’ appendage was inherited by my Billy.

Search and Discovery:
In April of 2007 I visited Derry and the memory of that night, so many years ago, listening intently to the radio with my father, returned. I thought about my childhood hero. I wondered if it would be possible to meet him, if indeed he was still alive. I made enquiries with confusing signals with regard to his well-being. I eventually found his house close to the Bogside but he was not home. I wrote a note telling him who I was, where I was staying and that I would like to meet him. I felt that was as close as I would come to meeting Billy Kelly. However later in my hotel room I got a call from reception saying; “There is a Mr. Kelly here to see you.” On exiting the lift I scanned the crowded foyer and could readily identify a person who fitted my image from old photographs. My efforts had been rewarded. We talked for some time and he re-counted that fight in Donnybrook. “Famechon should have been disqualified for low blows” he related. He regarded a Gold Coast/Ghana boxer Roy Ankrah, as the finest boxer he met while Sugar Ray Robinson was the finest boxer he saw. He lost to Ankrah in April 1954 over ten rounds, but beat him in the return over fifteen rounds in October at The King’s Hall, Belfast, for the Empire featherweight title. “I fought in The Kings Hall twenty six times. You had to be good to be on the card there.” Other boxers he mentioned were Guy Gracia, Hogan ‘Kid’ Bassey, Sammy McCarthy, Brian Kelly and Freddie Gilroy and he then mentions the work of his brother Paddy with boxing Clubs in Derry. The boxing tradition is still alive with John Duddy now emerging as a new Derry boxing hero.
“With my first decent purse I was able to buy a house and with my second I bought a car.” echoed Billy. His last fight was a draw against John Spike McCormack on St. Patrick’s Night, 1962.
I then happily accompanied my amiable, hamlet-smoking, hero to a nearby restaurant where his daughters were waiting for him with a belated 75th birthday treat. I had brought closure on a sporting disappointment, for a boxer and a radio listening boy from over fifty years ago, by meeting a gentle sporting icon in Billy ‘Spider’ Kelly.
End
Tony Conboy April 2007.

Derry City, ‘Where Hope and History Rhyme’ Tony Conboy April 2007.
Just a few short miles over the Donegal border lies a very different Irish City, Derry the Maiden City. It is a unique City, a city in transition, recovering from great traumas where today the mood is one of hope. Anything else is too despairing to contemplate. History and its legacy seeps, perhaps weeps, from its walls. My visit was supposed to be just ‘a break’ not a polemic but immediately I was enveloped by history and the underlying shadows of mood and resonance. They are unavoidable, they are in the air. One needs to get some idea of this City’s story to get some understanding of what is in train.

The High Walls of Derry:
In other cities like York and Chester their walls are now elaborate, impressive features of a bygone age but in Derry they are an enveloping, perhaps smothering, tapestry of history.
Derry is a Plantation City from the early 1600s’ when it was enclosed by its Walls. During the War between William of Orange and King James the city declared for William and when a force for King James arrived to occupy it, a group of ‘Apprentices’ closed the gates declaring ‘No Surrender’, a term which echoes down the centuries. There followed the Siege of Derry from December 1688 to August 1689 which was broken when a number of supply ships managed to get through.
Derry became one of the great ports of emigration from the North West region through the 1900s’. As a consequence of the Treaty settlement of 1921, Derry, a predominantly Nationalist City, came to be ruled by Stormont and by a Unionist dominated City Council, through gerrymandering and manipulation of the voting system. This also led to strident discrimination on many levels. Some former students will remember Seamus Deane’s bleak portrayal of those decades in ‘Reading in the Dark’. During the Second World War, Derry played a significant part in ‘The Battle of the Atlantic’, against the German U Boat threat. It also acted as a base for thousands of Americans. With post-war education and the example of the American Civil Rights Movement the mood for change and the fight for equality emerged with the Northern Ireland Civil Rights Movement. However those in power were not willing to make concessions. More radical young people revived the near dormant I.R.A. This led to what is referred to as ‘The Troubles’ but what the radicals readily describe as a ‘War’ with the dominant Unionist majority backed up by the British authorities. While there are many sad markers since the late sixties, ‘Bloody Sunday’, on January 30th, 1972 stands out. On that day, in the Bogside area of Derry, 13 people were killed by the British Army.

On a plaque on The Walls overlooking the site of Bloody Sunday are inscribed telling lines by Seamus Heaney:

“My heart besieged by anger, my mind a gap of danger
I walked among their old haunts, the home ground where they bled
And in the dirt lay justice like an acorn in the winter
‘Til its oak would sprout in Derry, where the thirteen men lay dead”

Derry Today:

The Bogside:
This is an area outside and overlooked by The Walls. It is a Catholic area which through discrimination has been economically deprived.
With the current peace process firmly in place, outsiders are calling to Derry. I did the City bus tour with Australians and ‘The Walls’ with Canadians. In The City Cemetery, on the slopes of The Creggan Hill, I visited the burial place of the victims of Bloody Sunday. I had been at their funerals over thirty five years ago.
I walked the area of the atrocity in the Bogside, now marked with memorials, hoping I was not just a voyeur. A number of the surrounding walls are covered with Murals, by the Bogside Artists Group, relating the story and struggle of the people from this area. Here also is the iconic remaining gable of a building inscribed with, ‘You Are Now Entering Free Derry.” Nearby ‘The Museum of Free Derry’ endorses the theme. It is a pity that this tragic site is traversed by a busy motorway.

A Fine Museum of Contemporary History:
The new Tower Museum, underneath The Walls (everything is beneath The Walls) tells the city’s story in a concise and understandable way. A large section illustrates a history which is of our time and which has impacted on our lives and consciousness. The two trenchant strands of the City’s story are delicately balanced. Indeed balance and middle ground is a present and future challenge. This is most evocatively represented by a sculpture of two figures with outstretched hands almost touching. The hope is that those hands will, in the not too distant future, touch as a symbol of final and lasting reconciliation.
The Tower Museum, which I recommend strongly, was being ‘Officially’ opened when I was there. While waiting to enter I met Bishop Edward Daly the handkerchief- waving priest of Bloody Sunday. Also present was Mark Durkin, leader of the SDLP, an honourable Party of the centre, the Party of Hume and Mallon, now marginalised by the ungrateful and forgetful. The centre didn’t hold.

Distinguished Citizens:
Derry has a number of notable alumni through the years and especially in recent times. St. Columb’s College can uniquely boast two Nobel Laureates in Seamus Heaney, from Bellaghy, and John Hume whose name is entwined with the history of modern Derry.
In literature it can nominate Brian Friel and Seamus Deane though I saw no obvious reference to them.
It also has a proud musical heritage with a Eurovision winner from 1970 in Dana (Rosemary Browne) and a notable composer of songs such as ‘Ireland’s Call’, in Phil Coulter. The original script of his iconic song, ‘The Town I loved So Well’ adorns a Museum display. Outside The City Hotel, where I stayed, was a copper sculpture remembering Joseph Locke (or his real name Joseph McLaughlin) and Hear My Song. Some people might even remember a group called The Undertones’.
It has its sporting heroes too especially in boxing with the Kelly family, Charlie Nash and currently John Duddy.
Derry City is a successful soccer Club while nearby is the GAA’s Celtic Park both in the Brandywell.
A number of fine sculptures are by Maurice Harron who is responsible for ‘The Chieftain’ sculpture, between Boyle and Sligo, on The Curlew Hills which I see from my window. Mister Harron taught in Roscommon town for a number of years in the seventies and early eighties. His most significant piece is to be seen in the centre of a Derry City round-about. It is of the two figures, with outstretched hands nearly touching, representing the coming closer of the communities. Continuing this theme the Dove of Peace is to be seen in a Bogside Mural and in a small Waterside Peace Park. The Waterside is a staunchly Unionist area east of the river Foyle. Interestingly west of the river there is a small Unionist enclave, visible from The Walls, called The Fountain. It is readily identifiable from its Murals, Union Flag and the red, white and blue kerb stones. Oddly there was little or no flag-waving of either hue.

Competing Spires;
Towering over the west side of the city is the spire of St. Eugene’s while dominating the skyline from within The Walls is St. Columb’s Cathedral with its defensive features. In its grounds is a monument to ‘The Siege Heroes.’ There are many churches of various denominations. The angle-grinding dismantler of the last British army bastion graciously gave space to the Guide as he suggested that, ‘there are not many old buildings in the City due to the bombing campaign down the years. At one time over sixty percent of the buildings in the city were affected through bombing” mentioning one as, ‘the most bombed building in Europe’ and referring to some rioting activity as, ‘recreational rioting’ or ‘the standard Derry riot’ of times hopefully past. Words like hope emerge regularly. Then we continued along The Walls with their impressive array of canons and the tales of Walker and Lundy, Apprentice Boys, the burning of effigies, humiliation and provocation. The army is no longer ‘installed by that old gas yard wall’. The Guildhall seems empty now that the Saville Enquiry, into Bloody Sunday, has ended.

Reaching Out:
Like Maurice Harron’s reconciliation sculpture perhaps it is time for us too to reach out and by visiting communicate our tangible support for this new era and direction.
It will take a considerable length of time for Derry to recover and arrive at the bustling note of say, a giddy Galway. Many big employers are gone and investors have heretofore been wary. Unemployment is high at a reported fifteen per cent with some social employment acting as a safety net. Oddly housing prices are very high where there has been a dramatic increase in more recent years than ours. McGee College has finally been given the status of a University as a constituent of The University of Ulster a status long and controversially denied. There are a number of fine hotels including The City Hotel, which was opened in 2002 by Sir Reg Empey of the then ‘Power-Sharing Executive’. It was developed, I was informed, by a group of city business-men with the opening plaque denoting grant aid from a variety of agencies National, E.U and U.S. While the street shops have yet to blossom there is the fine Foyleside Shopping Centre. There is an impressive entertainment venue in The Millennium Forum. Twin bars Peadar O’Donnell’s and The Gweedore Bar offer regular, if loud, music. I was told there are plenty of fine restaurants but some, like The Exchange, are shy and may be missed in a short visit. While the City has a number of generous open areas such as The Diamond, Guildhall Square and Waterloo Place there is no defined heart as such. Finding the Tourist Information Centre is a worthwhile challenge. The Bus Tour was not as fulfilling as The Walking Tour.
The people are welcoming and pleased to see visitors. I am certain that the tourist industry will be one of considerable growth. I left Derry, driving across the lower deck of Craigavon Bridge. If one stretched metaphors perhaps this acted as a contrast to the clear perspective from the new Foyle Bridge. In any event I was pleased I’d come back and I departed with a much to reflect on;
“History says, don’t hope
On this side of the grave,
But then, once in a lifetime
The longed for tidal wave
of justice can rise up,
and hope and history rhyme”
(Seamus Heaney, Doubletake from The Cure at Troy)
End.

The Heart Of Ireland

2009-11-27T16:35:00.001Z

In the 1920’s a gentleman called Patrick Sharkey wrote a book about our region and titled it ‘The Heart of Ireland’. I regard that title as a touchstone in describing my own place. While Killarney, Dublin, Clare, Galway, Connemara are well known brand names in Irish tourism we have our own attractions and mysteries in ‘The Heart of Ireland’, North Roscommon. A tag line for my neighbouring County is ‘Sligo is Surprising’ and so it is. It is also part of my canvas, with majestic landscapes, lakes, rivers, waterfalls and special hills. It has inspired the greatest of poetry and the purest of music. This is my country and hopefully I'll be traversing it and its people in this blog as the months go by.