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

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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.

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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!

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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

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A Fact

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

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