Category: Uncategorized Page 4 of 482

Photo; Paul Madigan, Blackwater Photographic Society

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Remember ACOT ?

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Rachel Blackmore in Mike the Pies

Mike the Pies and Pat Healy organise a very popular event every year at the outset of race week. Pat rounds up some of his friends who are jockeys and they participate in a question and answer session. Rachel Blackmore was one of those jockeys in 2018.

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Going to Mass in Listowel in 1999

Cathleen Mulvihill posted this lovely picture recently in Glin Historical Society. The artist is Senan O’Brien. Cathleen tagged Whytes art auctions in the post but I couldn’t find the picture on the site. If anyone knows the artist or anything about him will you tell us please.

This seems to  be the days before the Writers’ Well

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Make Hay while the Sun Shines

Picture and caption from John Corcoran on Facebook

My uncle, by marriage Vincent O’Carroll of Listowel, and my Grandfather the late Jimmy Lynch of Knockanure, and later Clahane Ballyard Tralee, here in a memorable moment caught in time, bringing home the hay in the early 1960’s. 

Vincent O’Carroll now lives in Tralee..

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Martin Daly’s Cows

Martin Daly on his bike driving his cows home through the town for milking and back to pasture was an everyday sight in the Listowel I came to in the 1970s.

Photos: Anne Wixted

These  photos were taken on the Bridge Road in 1978 and show the late Martin Daly on his bike, driving his cows back down the Dog Track Road (now the Lodge etc.) after milking. The stone wall on the left hand side of the photo has been demolished now, and the Lodge itself has been relocated in to the Town Park.” 

 

Photo: Colm Doyle, Blackwater Photographic Society

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It will Either Kill you or Cure You

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Horse Fair 1972

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The Healing Session at Listowel Writers’ Week.

Mattie Lennon remembers a much loved staple of Writers’ Weeks past and Mattie’s own role in them.

The annual Healing Session was held in John B. Keane’s on the Sunday of Listowel Writers’ Week. For many this marathon Open-Mic session was the highlight of the festival. As far as I know there was no laying of hands . . . although there is a dimly-lit area in the west corner of the bar! George Rowley , Author and Civil Servant , was Master-of-Ceremonies for two decades. His contract expired in 2009 and he informed Billy Keane that he would not be renewing it but he would assist in securing a successor. Billy agreed but with the stipulation that George’s successor would have to be the opposite of George in all respects.

 

He would have to be;

 

*Unable to sing, dance, play an instrument or write.

*Be unattractive to females.

*Come from a county which hasn’t ever been beaten in an All-Ireland Final.

*Have an agricultural voice.

*Be in employment but have a healthy aversion to work.

A shortlist was drawn upand everyone on it was an antithesis of George. Yours truly was included and I was interviewed by Billy Keane in Croke Park at half time of the 2009 All-Ireland football final.

 

I heard nothing for several months. Then on Sunday 04th June 20010 at precisely 12.30 P.M. Billy Keane invested George Rowley as Grand Master of the Healing Session. (I’m told that the sash and other investiture items were since auctioned for charity.) I was then unveiled as the new joint- MC. with Billy.

 

And I mustn’t have been too bad because I was retained  in that role until Coved 19 struck.

It was my job to recruit a continuous stream of performers . That wasn’t difficult. The place was always  like the Marquee in Drumlish, with “Cajon Queens from New Orleans and Marys from Dungloe.”

 

 On my first day my amateur status showed more than once. When introducing a singer/songwriter from the Premier County I got mixed up between the two “Ridings.” A poet from Rathdowney put me wide pointing out, “ . . . there’s also a sort of a no-man’s-land across Tipperary where there’s no riding. When I introduced Paddy Phelan as a reciter Billy Keane was in like a shot to point out that the term is “Recitationist.”

 

The marathon always  finished at five thirty and only because the patrons of the Island Racecourse were due in.  Picasso said “If it’s worth stealing I’ll steal it” but I always said, “If  you come to John B’s the Sunday of Writers’ Week, if it’s worth healing we’ll heal it.”

 

While driving home on the Bank Holiday Monday in 2010 I was still on a high.  By the time I got to Abbeyfeale I had cobbled together the following bit of a rhyme.

 

 

The Healing Session.

By Mattie Lennon

 

The Angelus bell o’er William Street

Put people at their ease.

‘Though signs of irritation showed

In the queue outside John B’s.

The man beside me shuffled;

His face was stern and dour.

“With the Sergeant that’s in Listowel now,

We’ll be here for half an hour.”

When the bolt was drawn, with a stifled yawn,

The landlord scanned the scene.

“I’m stuck” says he “will you do MC”?

‘Twas the voice of Billy Keane.

The author of “ . . .”Our Rivers . . .”

Was quickly in full flow

With Jim Gornal and his small flute

(It’s called a Piccolo.)

We had farmer-scribes from Breffni

And teachers from Mayo.

Some looked like Priests in mufti

(But you wouldn’t really know.)

There were busmen-poets from Dublin

Who knew the “Jimmy Riddle.”

And singers wearing mini-skirts

That wouldn’t dust a fiddle.

Mike Gallagher, reciting,

Wore a Western Seaboard grin.

Tom Donovan whispered strategies

In the ear of Mannix Flynn.

And that woman from West Limerick,

With a bust above the norm,

I think she misinterpreted

When I asked her to perform.

A man who worked for CIE

Read prose about rails and sidings.

When I introduced a poet from Tipp

I got mixed up in the Ridings.

Mallow men and Tralee lads

Would send each other up.

With some things left unmentioned

(Like the Sam Maguire Cup.)

A Minnesota actor

Was delighted with my touch

But a lad from near Dungarvan said,

“You curse too fucking much.”

Retrospective FF bashing

From Biffo through to Harney.

When John Sheahan entered with his Strad

I pretended he was Barney.

The others all could come and go,

Which put me in a rage;

I wouldn’t get a break at all,

I couldn’t leave the stage.

If someone reads an epic poem

Sure I could walk away,

Relax for maybe half an hour,

An’ have me cup o’ tay.

Christ. That won’t bloody happen,

I’ll stick it out instead.

Then Pat McDermott rescued me;

He’d do “The Slatted Shed.”

The rest went very smoothly

With Sonnets and Haikus

With the odd race-goer filtering in

With non-poetic news.

The Healing Session over

(With its myriad acts and strands)

Except in one dark corner;

The laying-on of hands.

Those things can last ‘till Monday

And keep you on a high

But without cop- on will ruin you

And leave you high and dry.

I knew ‘twas time for winding down.

 I needed to get real

When I tried to pass a Squad-car

On the road to Abbeyfeale.

Photo; John Flynn, Blackwater Photographic Society

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Ní Bheidh a Leithéidí Arís i mo Shaol

For me, Listowel has not been the same since Anne Dillon passed away. With Liam now gone to his eternal reward, Listowel is that little bit more grey.

I came to Listowel to live in 1975. Liam was the local shopkeeper and Anne was a teacher in the local secondary school. Today, 46 years later, I am mourning the loss of my two great friends and two of my favourite Kerry born people in the whole world.

I came to know Anne first as a work colleague. She soon became a friend. Anyone who knew Anne also knew Liam. They were a team. Even though they had separate very different interests and very rich separate lives, they shared so much and they were one of the closest couples I know. Anne and Liam adored one another. The care they always gave to one another was magnified one hundred fold when, first Liam, and then Anne, fell ill.

Liam passed away peacefully on Good Friday 2021, two years after his beloved Anne. He was surrounded in his last weeks by his devoted family, Colette, Aine and his best mate, Éamonn.

Go gcloise tú ceol na n-éan ab ansa leat, i measc na naomh is na n-aingeal sna Flaithis go síoraí, a Liam.

I am reproducing here some of the lovely eulogy delivered by Éamonn at his dad’s funeral mass. The photographs that are not mine are  Éamonn’s.

Liam Dillon and his dog, Sparky, in Ballybunion in the 1950s.

Liam was born at No. 62 Church Street, Listowel on the 2^nd July 1941 to John Joe Dillon and Eileen Lane. Liam was always immensely proud of the fact that he was at least the seventh generation of the Dillon family to be born in the town of Listowel itself. Prior to that, his family came from Cnoc an Fhásaigh.

Dad had a truly wonderful life. Liam married Anne Stack from Carrueragh, Knockanure in 1969 and they went on to have three children, Colette and Áine and myself.  Liam inherited the family shop at 62 Church Street and he ran that until he retired several years ago. No 62 Church Street was originally erected in 1870 by Paddy Lane (Liam’s maternal grandfather)  for his daughters. Liam’s paternal grandfather, Bill Dillon, came from further down Church Street where Walsh’s hardware shop used to be. 

Anne and Liam Dillon in The Listowel Arms in 2017

Liam was absolutely devastated when our mother Anne, who looked after him as they used to say “like a sick priest”, first fell ill and then passed away on the 3^rd June 2019. 

Liam himself was initially diagnosed with cancer back in 2016 but Dad never complained and took everything in his stride, and with treatment, he lived a very full and happy life until last Christmas when his health suddenly deteriorated. 

Anne and Liam with neighbours and friends on Church Street

All throughout his life, Liam’s many friends, neighbours and relations in the town of Listowel generally, and in Church Street in particular, were a considerable source of delight to him.  Listowel and Church Street were also very important to him. Liam was born at No. 62 Church Street, had his business at No, 62 Church Street and, even when he retired from the shop at No. 62, he only moved a few doors up the street to the Old Rectory in Upper Church Street. And indeed St. Michael’s Graveyard, which will be his final resting place, is just a few steps further up the Street and across the road from The Old Rectory.  

The importance of place to Liam was always evident. Even though he travelled widely in earlier years, he was always happiest back in Listowel.  Over the past 20 months, since Mum passed away, his neighbours, family, in-laws and many friends all have rallied around. 

Of course, Dad had a very wide variety of interests. Since Anne died, he loved nothing more than spending time in his beloved aviary with his canaries and quail which he got back into after the passage of more than 65 years. 

Liam also loved reading, both history and fiction, his garden and plants, indoor and outdoor and, up to very recent years, walking as well as breeding and showing dogs.  We spent many a bank holiday over the years at Irish Kennel Club Dog Shows all over the country. Dad both showed and judged dogs in the Terrier and Toy classes at Irish Kennel Club dog shows. His registered kennel prefix was “Oldcourt” (harking back to his relations, the O’Sullivans, at the Old Court in Lixnaw) and, when he spotted entries with Ch (denoting champion) coupled with the Oldcourt prefix, he was always intensely proud. For many years Liam also had greyhounds, both coursing and track (an interest he shared with Patrick Walsh). 

Liam loved to tell the story about the time when, with his father, John Joe, in the 1950’s, he went to purchase a greyhound pup in Tipperary. One small brindle pup ran up to him and he selected that. However his father told him that “solids” were better runners and so he put down the brindle pup and selected a “solid”. Dad went on to have great luck and success with that pup and she even ran in the final of the Oaks. However, he would ruefully then point out that the first pup he picked up and put down also ran in the same race and won!

Liam and Anne with Eddie Moylan and myself at Listowel Races a few years ago.

Liam also enjoyed horse racing from the time when he used to attend the races with his own father as a child and that interest endured to the very end  with him enjoying, and keenly following, the racing from Cheltenham just the week before he passed away. 

Dad also loved music. When Dad was at home he played music every day. Our neighbours next door often mentioned to me how much they liked listening to the classical music that he played in the mornings. He especially liked the André Rieu concerts. However I am not sure what they made of the training videos that he regularly played for the young canary cocks to improve their singing! 

When Liam was in the Palliative Care Unit in Tralee for the past nine weeks, we all took turns playing songs that he requested. His taste was wide and varied.  Most of his selections, were, to us, very predictable. We knew what he liked.  “Red Sails in the Sunset”, “Doonaree” and selections from Oklahoma were regular favourites.  But he completely surprised me one evening when he asked me to play “Two out of Three Ain’t Bad” by Meatloaf. When I expressed some surprise at this apparently unusual choice he completely astounded me by commenting that Meatloaf was a great performer live! He went to explain that he had attended a Meatloaf concert in Tralee with our late mother many years ago. Our father, the rocker!!!

 Dad was also very social and it would be true to say that our house was very much an “open house” over the years. Mum and Dad had a very wide circle of friends and relations who regularly called in over the years. We used to joke that the house was like Grand Central Station sometimes. All however were made very welcome and all their friends and relations brought much pleasure to both Mum and Dad over the years. It was one of the great disappointments this past year that Covid-19 prevented these visits. 

On occasions such as this it is often said that a person had a great faith. This was never truer than with Dad. He had a very private and intense faith and belief which never waivered.

 

One of the gifts (symbols of Liam’s life) that was brought up to the altar today was the poem “The Street” by the late, great John B. Keane. I must also say that although John B. nowadays is most often associated with William Street, he was born and raised in Church Street and is thus, rightfully, claimed by us. As we gather here today to honour and to give thanks for Liam’s life, the final stanza of John B’s “The Street” is, I think, rather apt.

“A golden mellow peace forever clings

Along the little street.

There are so very many lasting things

beyond the wall of strife

in our beleaguered life.

There are so many lovely songs to sing

of God and his eternal love that rings

of simple people and of simple things”

Beidh tú saor anois go deo, Liam. Slán abhaile. 

Liam and Éamonn Dillon, September 2020

 Photo;  Angela Copps, Blackwater Photographic Society

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Pitch and Putt

The dedicated people at Listowel Pitch and Putt Club have been putting the weeks of enforced  course closure to good use. It was a work in progress the day I visited but I must return to view the finished upgrade. Everyone is talking about how marvellous it looks.

The lovely tee boxes dedicated to some of the old stock of the town are being repainted.

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Signs of Hope at The Island

Please God by September we’ll be joining the hordes tramping across that bridge.

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A Zoom Date for the Diary

 “Launch of the Brendan Kennelly Literary Archive in the Library of Trinity College Dublin” 

Date Time: Apr 15, 2021 11:00 AM Dublin 

Description: Marking the announcement of the Brendan Kennelly Literary Archive in the Library of Trinity College Dublin and on the occasion of the poet’s eighty fifth birthday later this month, the Provost of Trinity College Dublin invites you to a special online event. 

The event will feature a read message from the President of Ireland, Michael D. Higgins along with selected poems recited by celebrated singer, Bono, poet Paula Meehan and Trinity student Lily O’Byrne,  

The initiative is in association with the Library of Trinity College Dublin, the Brendan Kennelly Literary Trust and the Kennelly Family. 

All are welcome. 

Mr. Jiggs is waiting for warmer weather so he can go outdoors.

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Irish Novel of the Year 2021

It would take more than a pandemic to keep the doughty folk at Listowel Writers’ Week down.

The show is still on the road, albeit virtually. The finalists for the big prize, Kerry Group Irish Novel of the Year, has just been announced. I must confess I haven’t read any of these tempting offers from some new kids on the block. I intend to remedy that omission immediately.  Fair dues to Listowel Writers’ Week for encouraging novelists who have the bravery to publish a book in a time with no book launches, no libraries open and a recession looming.  I’ll be back to you with my verdict on the books

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Some Easter Window Displays in 2021

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Ballybunion Remembers

As you walk around the castle green in Ballybunion it is lovely to read the memorials on the seats. People who once walked where you are now are commemorated on the park benches where you may rest and take in the view.

Here are a few of those plaques. 

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As Clear sighted as a Bat

Where did we get the notion that bats are blind? Most species of bat have eyes  that they use to seek out prey and to avoid bumping into objects. Many do not use echolocation at all. The bats that hang out in Ireland use both sonar and their tiny eyes to navigate and hunt.

The bat market in Wuhan must one of the very few such places in the world, because, according to my book (pictured above) “very few humans find bats palatable.” 

Would you eat one?