This blog is a personal take on Listowel, Co. Kerry. I am writing for anyone anywhere with a Listowel connection but especially for sons and daughters of Listowel who find themselves far from home. Contact me at listowelconnection@gmail.com

Year: 2024 Page 16 of 48

Remembering Listowel

Finesse Shane MacGowan tribute window. The Friday evening Revival concert of 2024 featured a tribute to Shane.

Remembering and Connecting

This is Margot McElligott, formerly of Bridge Road and now living in Paris.

Here is the story;

Listowel to Paris 

Recently, I reached out to Mary Cogan, hoping she could help me reconnect with a long-lost friend from my teenage years, Marie O’Halloran (O’Connor). In our exchange, Mary suggested that I contribute to the Listowel Connection blog, sharing a bit about my life today and some cherished memories from the past.

My name is Margot McElligott, daughter of Richard and Nóra, from the Bridge Road. I left Listowel in 1981, embarking on a new chapter in Paris shortly after completing my Leaving Cert. That move was inspired by a school trip to France during my first year of secondary school—a trip that left such an impression on me that I vowed to make France my home. My career has since taken me on a journey through various industries, from the Aerospace press to Communications in Aerospace research, followed by various leadership roles in the Pharmaceutical sector. I am mother of three adult children—a daughter and two sons.

As a small child, my world revolved around Bridge Road and Woodford, where my beloved aunt and cousins lived. Before I even began school, I spent many summer days with my cousin Neil Brosnan, who was nothing short of a hero in my young eyes. Neil devoted countless hours to teaching me about nature, turning every moment into an adventure. He fueled my imagination and created memories that I continue to treasure to this day.

L to R: Margot McElligott and Ann Dowling (a school photo from Junior Infants class…then known as Babies)

My closest friends were my immediate neighbours, and together we created a tapestry of simple yet unforgettable memories. Around the age of six or seven, I began learning to play tennis under the patient guidance of Roly Chute on the courts situated in what was then known as the Cows’ Lawn. Those tennis courts became the epicenter of our world, especially during the long summer holidays. We spent countless days and evenings there, playing tennis with other children from the town until one of our mothers would call us home through the twilight. When we weren’t on the courts, we would picnic or stroll along the riverbank, or even stage our own “Eurovision Song Contest” on the steps behind the typing pool on Bridge Road—though our singing careers never quite took off!

Like many girls in Listowel, my school years were spent at the Presentation Convent, where I was welcomed by the kind and smiling Sister Consolata. I have fond memories of my time there (mostly), and used to love running errands for the nuns !  School also meant broadening my circle of friends, meeting for the first time the girls from the town and surrounding villages. 

Another cornerstone of my childhood was partaking in “The Tops of the Town,” directed by Danny Hannon, which brought together the Bridge Road and the Square. I have a faint memory of a production involving Danny dressed as a scientist or professor in a white coat, some sort of infernal machine, and a creative rendition of “Old McDonald” at the end (sung by me). If anyone remembers that performance, I’d love to know more about it!

Sundays often meant a trip to Ballybunion, a highlight of my week. After dutifully visiting my two aunts who lived there, we would spend time on the beach, enjoy a 99 cone, and top it off with a spin on the bumper cars. Other vivid memories include the Listowel Races, which filled me with childlike excitement. I still recall the thrill of seeing the massive trucks rumbling up Bridge Road, bringing all the amusements to be set up in the marketplace. I would count down the days until the festivities began. The Fleadh Cheoil was another event that captured my imagination, with tents dotting the Cows’ Lawn and the sound of foreign languages filling the air—perhaps my first exposure to French!

Kieran Moloney’s photograph of Margot at work

As a teenager, I worked at week-ends and during festivals at Moloney’s Bar in the Square. By then, I had become fairly fluent in French (at least by secondary school standards), and word quickly spread among the festival-goers that a French-speaking barmaid was working at Moloney’s. This drew a large group of French regulars to the bar for the duration of the festival.

An important part of my secondary school experience was being on the debating team under the guidance of Tony Behan (English teacher). It wasn’t until years later that I fully appreciated the incredible opportunity this was and the profound impact it had on my career—particularly in public speaking and constructing well-articulated arguments. Looking back, I’m struck by how a small town like Listowel in the 1970s provided such a wealth of opportunities for growth in sports, culture, and education. These experiences played a pivotal role in shaping the professional I would become.

Sadly, my mother passed away in 1986 and my father in 1997, and with their passing, my ties to local life and people faded. Yet, my memories remain vivid and deeply cherished. Though I have lived in France for 43 years, I have always proudly retained my Irish nationality, forever proud of my roots and my connection to Listowel.

Playing Board Games

A feature of holidays in Nana’s has always been board games. Aoife, at three, is just learning to take turns. She is enjoying the joy of winning but she is also learning that when there are winners there are also losers.

Aoife in Nana’s garden in August 2024

Playing Animal Lotto

Dirty Washing is a simple children’s game loved by my grandchildren when they were very young.. When you draw a card with a “dirty” garment you get to shout “Dirty washing” and you get to put it through the slot into the washing machine. Great fun, if you are three!

Advice for Parents in a Poem

“Do not ask your children

to strive for extraordinary lives.

Such striving may seem admirable,

but it is the way of foolishness.

Help them instead to find the wonder

and the marvel of an ordinary life.

Show them the joy of tasting

tomatoes, apples and pears.

Show them how to cry

when pets and people die.

Show them the infinite pleasure

in the touch of a hand.

And make the ordinary come alive for them.”

The extraordinary will take care of itself.

~William Martin

A Fact

Starfish do not have brains. Special cells on their skins gather information about their surroundings.

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Out and About with Camera

Time to write…Display in The Listowel Arms

People I Met

I met Mary and Cathriona McCarthy and Joan Buckley on Friday evening on their way to Revival.

I met Mary McGrath and her lovely daughter on their way to visit Peter.

Jessica and Áine were taking a break in Market Street Kitchen.

Three Mountcoal ladies, Chrissie, Eileen and Peggy were having a cuppa and a catch up.

From the Archives

21 Sept 1912

New York NY Irish American Advocate

Chicago News;

A very pretty wedding was celebrated In this town last week when Mr. Patrick J. Buckley, of Clounmacon, Listowel, Co. Kerry, and Miss Josephine Sheehan, of Tarmons, Tarbert, Co. Kerry, were joined In wedlock. The ceremony was performed by the Rev. F. Quigley in the Church of Our Lady of Sorrows, Albany avenue and Jackson Boulevard. Miss Sheehan was dressed In white silk, and carried a bouquet of Killarney roses. Mr. R. Walsh acted as best man, and Miss Marie McKean as bridesmaid. After the ceremony at the church the young couple and their friends drove to 1039 Oakley Boulevard, where breakfast was served, after which the young couple went on a honeymoon trip to California. The presents from the friends of Mr. and Mrs. Buckley were numerous and beautiful. On their return they will be at home at Monroe and Ogden avenue.

A Poem we Learned at School

Ogham

This is the stoney corridor in UCC. It is the most marvellous free museum. Along the walls are stones/ boulders which have been removed for safe keeping from several locations in Munster.

Before there was paper, there was stone. People actually wrote on stone. Obviously if you were chiseling out every letter on stone, you wouldn’t write much.

These Ogham stones have the names of chieftans and important people carved on them. The name was carved in a morse code like system of scratches in the edge of the boulder. The name, I am told was read from the bottom upwards.

It is marvellous to have these great artefacts within touching distance. Of course we mustn’t touch them. We must show them the respect their longevity and historical significance demands.

Caring for their Customers

This is a good idea. Be sure to tell the youngsters, just in case….

A Fact

The longest place name in Ireland is Muckanaghederdauhaulia (muk-an-hand-ra-do-dauter-hal-i-a). It is a 470-acre townland in the civil parish of Kilcummin in County Galway, Ireland.

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A Wet Summer

In the wildflower meadow in Childers’ Park in August 2024

In the Playground

Aoife brought a towel to the playground on Saturday, August 24 2024.In summer 2024 a girl has to be prepared for wet conditions.

Maybe it’s a combination of Kildare and Listowel influences but she loves a ride on anything resembling a horse.

She dried the slide before having a go.

She did her best with the swing but, by now, the towel was saturated.

She loved this musical instrument. Wet or dry this functioned.

Best Dressed Lady

Maria Stack of Listowel took the title of Best Dressed at Limerick show at the weekend. Maria made her own hat.

In the Paper

In Saturday’s Irish Examiner there is a section for readers’ photographs. In that section on last Saturday was a reader’s photograph of our own Matt Mooney whistling away, oblivious of the camera, at the recent fleadh in Wexford.

Drunk

The Demon Drink

I was having a drink many moons ago in the IFI social club in Lamberton, Arklow and a man came in enquiring if his friend was on the premises. The barman told him that he was gone, and our man asked if was long gone. The barman’s response is still stored in my memory bank. Well, he said Johnny was nearly gone when he came in, but he went home before he was fully gone. That was his way of saying that Johnny was fairly drunk or ar meisce when he arrived but left before he was fully polluted.

Isn’t it absolutely amazing how many ways you can say that a person was drunk like maith go leor or he was stocious or legless or footless, langers, out of his/her skull, fluthered or just locked. In answer to questions about what state people were in after a few bevvies people could say s/he was three sheets in the wind, twisted, staggering, in the staggers, all over the place or legless.

These were moderate terms for peoples whose alcohol infused brains had upset their equilibrium a bit but then you can go up the scale and describe people as twisted, jarred, pissed, half cut, polluted, scuttered, ossified

Then you can go into the upper stratosphere of drink and drunk terminology when you say a person was paralytic, shit faced, rat arsed, bollixed.

I think I heard a lot of terms as I grew from boy to man. There was a certain bravado in saying you were drunk, buckled, locked, plastered, or whatever other endearing term was used for being maith go leor and that you didn’t remember anything from the night before. Little did we know what damage we were doing to our brains and general body health. There wasn’t the same awareness of health and the damaging relationship with alcohol. It was the rite of passage to go out for a night and get polluted.

Nowadays there is a much greater awareness of fitness and health and healthy living which are improving the quality of lives and living standards. Younger people are more attracted to gyms, sports arenas and the café culture preferring the skinny latte to the pint of beer.

The pub culture is no longer as popular as it was. I was listening to the radio today and they were speaking about the staggering fact that nearly 2000 pubs had closed in the past 20 years. They also referred to the statistic that alcohol consumption was at its lowest level in Ireland for 35 years and that we have turned into a wine consuming nation. There is also a far greater acceptance of zero alcohol drinks and drink driving is frowned upon. Worryingly there is an increase in the use of social drugs.

We are known all over the world for our love of the jar, and our pub culture but it sure seems to be changing. The takeaway is cheaper than the pub. Everything is getting more expensive from groceries, cars, fuel and housing. All these are putting pressure on people’s wallets and an increasing number of people are putting the demon drink well down the priorities on the shopping list. We will be a better off, healthier people because of this change in culture and lifestyle. Let’s hope it continues.

Mick O Callaghan

A Fact

Between 1880 and 1916, the legal time in Dublin was set at Dunsink Observatory and called Dublin Mean Time. This time was 25 minutes 21 seconds behind Greenwich Mean Time (GMT).

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Winners despite the Weather

Aoife McKenna with the story of Summer 2024

Revival 2024

The music festival was a huge success. A big well done to all the organisers. They brought some world class acts right to our doorstep.

The story of the weekend has to be Sharon Shannon in Áras Mhuire. I got the story and photos on Áras Mhuire Facebook page. They give all the credit for arranging the visit to Aiden O’Connor of Mike the Pies.

Sharon was joined by local musicians, Eamonn and Tom.

Sharon met James Gould

with Breda Moore whom she met first many years ago.

From the Archives

Unfortunately, there is no year given on the poster.

Footballers

Paudie Clifford, present Kerry captain and Jimmy Deenihan, former Kerry captain met up in in Garvey’s Super Valu when Paudie brought the Sam Maguire (on loan from Armagh) to the opening of the revamped Listowel store.

Stone Walls

Some old dry stone walls in Listowel…

A Fact

Russia has 11 time zones.

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A Bronze Horse, Fireworks in Budapest and Historic Poverty in Dublin

A snail in Wexford; Photo credit, Mick O’Callaghan

What an Athlete!

The great Paul O’Donovan this weekend won his seventh world gold medal, this time rowing alone is the lightweight skull championships. He stayed away from any Olympic celebrations, where, of course, he also won gold in a boat with Fintan MacCarthy. What focus, what dedication? Superman!

AND let’s not forget that Siobhan McCrohan won bronze at the world championships as well. That was a great achievement too against a strong field of oarswomen.

Then Liam ÓHainnín shared this from a Love of History page on Facebook.

“The Jockey of Artemision is a large Hellenistic bronze statue of a young boy riding a horse, dated to around 150–140 BC.

It is a rare surviving original bronze statue from Ancient Greece and a rare example in Greek sculpture of a racehorse. Most ancient bronzes were melted down for their raw materials some time after creation, but this one was saved from destruction when it was lost in a shipwreck in antiquity, before being discovered in 1926.

It may have been dedicated to the gods by a wealthy person to honour victories in horse races, probably in the single-horse race (Greek: κέλης – kēles). The artist is unknown.”

Budapest

People may remember my grandsons, Sean and Killian, who used to holiday every summer in Listowel. We used to visit Kennedy’s Pet Farm, Coolwood, The Donkey Sanctuary as well as Ballybunion, The Rose of Tralee and the Dog Track. Happy days!

Now the boys are young men and spreading their wings. This summer their travels took then to Portugal, Strasburg and only last week to Budapest. Sean sent me these photos of the world renowned fireworks display for St. Stephen’s Day 2024.

St Stephen’s Day, Hungary’s national holiday, is celebrated on August 20. It commemorates the first king of Hungary. There is a massive fireworks display on The Danube. It is attended by huge crowds.

Getting home on The Metro was “mental”, according to Sean.

A Monday Kind of Poem

The Bad Old Days

Dublin, 19 June 1915 – The Fresh Air Association has appealed for funds to allow it continue its work of sending underprivileged children in Dublin for a week in the countryside to relieve them from the troubles of life in the city.

The association estimates the cost of five shillings a week procures board and lodging in healthy surroundings for a child for a week. In a statement this week, the association claimed: ‘None but those who work among the poor have any idea of the happiness it affords the young people to see the green fields, and enjoy the pure air of the country.’

[Editor’s note: This is an article from Century Ireland, a fortnightly online newspaper, written from the perspective of a journalist 100 years ago, based on news reports of the time.]

The above is from The National Archives

Jer found the following in a later 1920s newspaper…

At a public meeting in Cork a Fresh Air Fund was inaugurated for the purpose of giving poor children holidays in the country or at the seaside. The Lord Mayor, Councillor Daly, presided. The project was sponsored by Cork Council of Women, and Miss Long, Secretary of the Dublin Fresh Air Fund, explained the working of the scheme.

Does anyone remember any of these children coming to Kerry?

A Fact

The Eiffel Tower was originally intended for Barcelona but the project was rejected.

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