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
Author: listowelconnectionPage 63 of 194
Mary Cogan, retired from teaching in Presentation Secondary School, Listowel, Co. Kerry. I am a native of Kanturk, Co. Cork.
I have published two books; Listowel Through a Lens and A minute of your Time
We had neighbours one time, That lived under the hill. In my prayers I remember, And think of them still. And sometimes I think, it was just yesterday. But it fact it is really, A lifetime away.
Two brothers, two sisters, A dog and a cat, There was Katherine and Celia, And Tomas and Pat. All single, unmarried, Their name is long gone. And its sad there was no one, To carry it on.
The sisters kept house, It was neat as a pin. And a welcome was there, For whoever went in. The brothers they worked, On the farm every day. And at nightime together, They knelt down to pray. While auld Ringo the dog, By the fire lay quiet. Where himself and the cat, Settled in for the night.
Now Pat could play music, And Tomas could sing. At parties in old times Great joy they did bring. Celia sang also, and Kate In her chair, Read stories for children, From Kitty the Hare.
Old customs, old fashioned, Indeed this was true. And the ways of today’s world, These folk never knew. No modern components, back then In the day, Their work was all done in the old fashioned way. And I can remember when nightime would fall, Their light it then came, from a lamp On the wall.
With the turf from the bog on an open hearth fire, All the cooking was done, that your heart would desire. And a fine soda cake, it was baked as a rule, And left on the window sill, outside to cool.
To see this house now, it would make Your heart sore, For the weeds and the briars grow up through the floor. No windows or doors, and the roof has Caved in, Never more to be lived in, in this life again. A fine happy home, one time back in the day. Taken over by time, as the years passed away.
God be good to them now, There all gone to their rest, To the place that the good lord Reserves for the best. But my memories of childhood, sometimes let me see, The old ways of life, that one time used to be. And sometimes I think back, And remember them still, Our auld neighbours one time, That lived under the hill.
“On Saturday , at a reading of JB Keane’s hilarious and sometimes poignant Letters of a Matchmaker, are Elizabeth Stack PhD William street Listowel , and Mary ORourke R.N.C of Church Street Listowel at the Irish Historical Society NY.
Elizabeth is the new appointed Executive director of the IHS and hosted a wonderful gathering.”
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Interesting Artefacts
While visiting family in Ballincollig I attended a great night tripping down memory lane. Ten members of the society each brought an artefact and they got 5 minutes each to tell us about the item they brought.
A good crowd gathered for the meeting, mostly people of my own vintage but I did meet Niamh who had just done her Pre Junior Cert.
First up was Rod McConnell. Even though he is Scottish his family artefact was from Northern Ireland. It was a Repeal card. It dates back to Daniel O’Connell and the move to repeal the Act of Union in 1831.
Rod’s great great grandfather, James Gallagher, worked in a mill owned by the Leslie family. He said they were the same Leslies as the Ballincollig Leslies who lived in Wilton in an estate later owned by the SMA and now Wilton Shopping Centre. I wonder if they are the same Leslies as the Tarbert family of the same name.
Rod’s card had a map of Ireland on one side and some facts about Ireland on the other side.
Ireland had a population of 8.5 million people. It now has about 5.1 million so I don’t think we are “full” .
Ireland had 2.5 million acres of bog according to this 1844 artefact.
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A Marian Grotto
Marian grottos are dotted all over the countryside in Ireland. This one is in the carpark of the Bon Secours Hospital in Cork.
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A Fact
The population of Ireland is around 5 million. There are 80 million people around the world with Irish passports or Irish roots.
Firstly I must explain why I keep posting the cover of the yearbook every time I post an extract from it.
Many people come to Listowel Connection through a search engine, some months or years after the post they land on was uploaded so, for them, I treat every post as if it was one off.
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Unity Stone in Kanturk
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Things to look forward to
I photographed these from The Advertiser
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A Fact
The official name of Ireland is Republic of Ireland and the official name as Gaeilge is Éire.
A Paddy Drury ditty remembered by Brigid O’Brien in San Francisco
Oh sweet Knockanure may the heavens still bless you That dear little spot where the dead do resort You can stand in her Abbey on a bright Autumn morning And see the ships sailing to many a port You can see Co. Clare and the fair town of Ennis And the tide at Duneen as it do rise and fall Travel the wide world over for a burying plantation Knockanure Church you’re the pride of them all.
My Grandfather< Jack Casey of Lower Athea taught me that as a kid!
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Sive
The Kildare branch of the family, Tony and Mary McKenna, went to see Sive. They enjoyed the show but they preferred more traditional John B. Keane versions.
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More Success in the U.S. for a Young Listowel Lady
( Thank you Mary Ursula O’Rourke for alerting me to this story)
Irish Central, November 2023
Dr. Elizabeth Stack has accepted an offer to become the new Executive Director of the American Irish Historical Society (AIHS) in New York.
The AIHS announced the news on X, formerly Twitter, on Tuesday, November 21 and said that Stack will begin her new position on February 1.
Stack, a native of Listowel in Co Kerry who moved to New York in 2009, had been named to the interim board of directors.
was appointed the Executive Director at the Irish American Heritage Museum in Albany, New York in 2018.
Announcing her appointment at the time, the Museum said that Stack would be responsible for all aspects of the Museum’s operations.
Stack previously taught Irish American History and was an Associate Director of the Institute of Irish Studies at Fordham University, where she completed her Ph.D. She also has a master’s degree in Anglo-Irish Relations in the 20th Century from University College Dublin.
When she was appointed as the Irish American Heritage Museum’s Executive Director just over five years ago, Stack said: “I have learned that because emigration is part of the Irish story, and immigration part of the American, there is a reciprocity that exists between both countries that exceeds familial ties or time of arrival. “
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Visiting the Horses
Some of the EPA horses warm and cozy in their stables in Kanturk.
Mr. Jiggs, who is 24 years old prefers the outdoors, despite the wet underfoot conditions.
Chabal, Jiggsy’s best friend and constant companion pushed the 24 year old aside so he could be front and centre in the picture.
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A Fact
A giraffe has exactly the same number of bones (seven) in his neck as a human. The giraffe’s bones are just longer.
This year’s Tralee 10K (14th Sept) will honour the great Jerry Kiernan, every participant will receive a commemorative Jerry Kiernan medal. Jerry was born in Listowel. At the 1984 LA Olympics Jerry finished 9th in the Marathon he also won the Dublin Marathon in 1982 and 1992.
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A Family Milestone
I have no sister and only one sister-in-law, so Breeda is an important part of the Ahern Cogan family. Here are the Cogan cousins at Breeda’s big birthday recently.
Me and my children on our night out
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A Poem to Ponder
If you didn’t get the roses, the chocolates, the champagne or even a card yesterday, listen to this from U A Fanthorpe.
Atlas
There is a kind of love called maintenance Which stores the WD40 and knows when to use it;
Which checks the insurance, and doesn’t forget The milkman; which remembers to plant bulbs;
Which answers letters; which knows the way The money goes; which deals with dentists
And Road Fund Tax and meeting trains, And postcards to the lonely; which upholds
The permanently rickety elaborate Structures of living, which is Atlas.
And maintenance is the sensible side of love, Which knows what time and weather are doing To my brickwork; insulates my faulty wiring; Laughs at my dryrotten jokes; remembers My need for gloss and grouting; which keeps My suspect edifice upright in air, As Atlas did the sky.
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Dating a Postbox
I photographed this postbox in Ballincollig and my Ballincollig based daughter found the era of this particular logo on the An Post website
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A Fact
Last month’s statistics to assure you that you are in good company
Pat Nolan’s Corner, Charles Street in February 2024
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A Poem
Mick O’Callaghan muses on the little trials of life when one shares space with a cat or dog
Feline and canine indiscretions
I must say I love gardening.
I get such mental and stress relief
From my regular communing with nature
Gardening is a very relaxing exercise.
When I am planting and weeding,
While pruning roses with my sharp secateurs
Digging up the fresh earth to the delight of birds
As they forage for any worms around
Which are silly enough to stick a head above ground,
In my raking, hoeing, and forking in fertiliser.
In bending, stretching, and pulling,
Pushing the wheelbarrow along
My muscles are stretched on a regular basis.
Relaxing too as I sit on my garden bench
Sipping coffee, nibbling fruit or scoffing biscuits
Soaking up the lovely perfumed natural aromas around
From carnations, azaleas, dahlias, and roses
It is all sheer heavenly bliss.
But occasionally I am taken aback.
While on my knees weeding
I touch some offending matter
In the form of feline indiscretion
The scent and aroma are rather foul .
Disgusting, stomach wrenching stuff
I curse the cats with expletives most foul.
Their owners too,
Who allow them to relieve their bowels
Onto my hallowed lawns edge
And on my manicured flower beds
I arise from my knees, cursing internally.
I scramble indoors to clean off the offending matter.
Scrubbing my fingers and hands with soap and hot water
With annoyance and anger bubbling up inside me
I now just abandon my gardening for a wee while.
And decide to head for a walk in the Town Park instead
To becalm my rising feline aroused anger.
I don my runners and progress out the front door
I pass by Sean Lios Houses and arrive in The Park
To begin my circuits before it gets dark
While strolling, I scent a strange smell
Which follows me around and lingers like hell
In the air around my personal space.
I bring it home to the hall in my head.
As I cross the threshold, I get a strange feeling
Senior house management greets me strangely,
Commenting on the stinking smell now pervading the house
I am quickly banished outside the front door
To take off my runners and examine them more
Whereupon I note some foreign matter
In the form of stinking rotten dog poo most foul
All clogged between the ridges of my runners.
I take them off and I was banished to the yard.
And am ordered to do some immediate de-fumigation
So, I take out garden hose, brush, and disinfectant
To clean doggie poo matter
From the parts of my runners that were canine infected
So now disinfected I’m allowed back into the hall.
I reflect on my day, and I curse humans who have the gall
To let their darling four-legged friends
Deposit their excrement in public at their will.
I don’t own a cat or dog, never did, never will.
And still here I am, inconvenienced, discommoded.
By the indiscriminate depositing actions
Of purring feline and barking canine household pets
Whose owners are not fully aware just yet
Of the toileting habits of their darling pets
And certainly, need more training
In poo bagging and binning
To avoid poo litter sinning.
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Trust
Look mom, no hands,
Look mom, no lock.
I was delighted, if a little surprised, to see a young visitor park their bike without a thought to its safety.
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Trying to Make a Connection
Here is an email from the postbag. Maybe someone is researching the same family and would like to get in touch.
Hi Mary,
I have done some research on my family name and have traced my great-great grandfather and he had come from Listowel.
I am come from Australia to play in the Over 70 football World Cup in Cardiff Wales in August, and looking at coming to Listowel as well.
His name was William Joseph Pierse born 1815 maybe 1819, died 1861 aged 42 or 47? There are 2 death ages on the same document.
His father may have been a surgeons tool maker in Listowel maybe David Pierse?
There is one search at says William was born in 1829? But this made him too young and David Pierse father born 1810 which makes him too young.
Maybe there was two William Pierse from Listowel born 10 years apart.
He, William, became a surgeon, studying at LAC Dublin and came to Australia as a ships surgeon in 1852.
The ship sank in Port Phillip bay and he stayed and married a passenger Elissa Newman.
From here I can follow the family history and how our name changed to the spelling Pierce in the late 1890’s
Told the Pierse with S was Catholic and getting work for Irish Catholic’s was hard in Australia then.
I have seen that you have had other enquires about the same name maybe you have some more info for me before I come.
Keith Pierce. Sydney Aust.
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An Spideog concluded
David Kissane
Post Torun
The weeks after Torun brought some challenging stories for some who had been involved in those championships. The story of our Kerry walking colleague Pat Murphy and his severe stroke was among the more unfortunate ones. Pat’s courage has seen him walking again at Christmas.
When the British Masters walk championships got underway in Derby on a warm September Saturday, my opponent from Torun, Ian Torode was not at the starting line. Hopefully he will be in London in February for the indoors.
And there were more sad stories also. We know we are not getting any younger, but surely we should be allowed to get a bit luckier. This scribbler can account himself among the lucky ones this summer. After a day that began at 6am in July at the national juvenile championships in Tullamore coaching and doing photography, I fell asleep in my van on the way home. No one injured. Luckily. My beloved van wasn’t so lucky and is now recycled. Information suggests that the neck pain and PT playbacks will fade but my advice to any driver is…do not drive when weary. One in five fatal road accidents are due to tiredness.
Dancing in the dark
But the post-Torun period brought some new departures. My walking colleague Serena analysed a missing ingredient to my training. She has a keen eye for such things. She got the bright idea that early morning runs would suit her lifestyle. Would I like to join her? I thought it was some kind of joke, because Serena can be very funny. At times!
Anyway, why not, I says. So began a series of dawn walks/jogs/runs. Up at 6am, in the Ardfert Recreation Centre at 6.30am and watch the sun rise. Serena’s friend Sharon started the sessions also, and she was becoming quite a walker/runner when fate led her in another direction. Then Denis joined in for a while, then Martina, then Marian, then Lisa and a few more on occasion. My cynical neighbour called us the ARC Angels!
But I was hooked. Even when Serena couldn’t attend, especially if she was after getting her hair done or such like, the dawn runs/walks became obligatory in my schedule. It was indeed one of the missing links in my previous training regime.
And then April became May and the mornings got brighter and the birds sang for us and June became July and I was able to celebrate my 70th birthday with a morning walk. And August became September and mornings had broken like the first mornings, to quote the song. October morphed into November and the mornings became so dark that we couldn’t see each other. Serena said that was no bad thing! It became a Mick Molloy/Martin McEvilly situation. Running in the dark. Dancing in the dark.
It carried us through the national outdoors, the British Masters, the Dublin Marathon, the cross country season and the 10K national walks. Then December brought some wet pre-dawns as well morning starry skies – the plough in the stars was so near once that I could have ploughed a furrow with it. Now I am instructed to be at the ARC in the morning at 6.30 for the first 2024 session.
It’s been some journey from crossing the Wisla in March to crossing the Spideog today on January 1st. 2024
Let the magic and the madness continue.
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He Did It
When a contestant wins at Countdown for 8 consecutive weeks he is declared an octochamp and he is retired from competition until the finals in June.
Jack Harvey, with the very tenuous Listowel connection (see previous post), has achieved that honour. And he didn’t need a conundrum to get him there.
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A Fact
During WW2 a complete blackout was observed in the cities and towns of Britain so that German bombers could not easily find their targets in the dark.
However, furnaces from steam trains glowed brightly and could be spotted by enemy navigators. If a train driver heard a plane overhead, he knew that the plan would be to follow the line of light and be led straight to a town or airfield. So train drivers were instructed , if they heard an aircraft, to pull into the nearest siding and leg it away from the train.
These were, of course, goods trains, so no passengers to evacuate.
