Listowel Connection

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

Memories and Prayers

Chrismas carol singers ornament

My recent Train Trip

During my recent sojourn in Kildare I attended a production of Calendar Girls in Kilcullen.

It was a sensitive, fast paced, at times funny and at times gut- wrenching staging of this play.

The ensemble cast was in top form…all in all a great night of theatre in this unusual and super comfy auditorium.

Ballybunion for the Holidays

Cork deaf peoples outing to Ballybunion 27/6/1954

This photo is from The Cork Examiner Archive

It accompanied this article…

Stephen Twohig, born in Kanturk but now living in Maine, USA, has great memories of quite a different holiday location.

“For those of us growing up in North Cork, Ballybunion was our choice of summer resort instead of the Cork beaches those in the city favoured. Indeed, Ballybunion was our Disney!”

On day trips, Stephen explains, one could take the bus from the Square in Kanturk on a Saturday or Sunday, with all your gear packed in bags.

“You were laden down with shovels, buckets, fishnets and armbands, blankets and picnic baskets.

“The long road through Newmarket, Rockchapel, and Listowel seemed to take forever, but when we reached Listowel, we knew we were on the home stretch. Finally cresting the last hill and long stretches of these last nine miles, we would call out ‘Ballybunion here we come’ when we saw the gable end of the first row of houses in the town.

Stephen adds: “Ballybunion really was our Disney. It had a magic and mystique about it. It was circus, carnival, sun and fun all in one place.

“Even the harsh winter Atlantic couldn’t erode all the warm memories we have from this seaside town. There are two long beaches split in the middle by a long outcrop into the ocean. On the tip are the remains of a castle, still standing guard.

“In the olden days, the women went to one beach and the men the other and one still called them by those names. God forbid one saw the other in their long, drab flax burlap costumes!

“I would doubt there was any big run on sun block back then. We always went to the men’s or right hand beach. 

You would scoot down the hill, trying not to fall through the coarse, sandy grass and finally plop down on the dry white sand.

“We would stay on the beach from morning until near sundown. More often than not, we would be the last few stragglers left behind, all huddled around each other in goosebumps from the cold. We would erect a windbreaker for a wall and drape a blanket over it if the showers came. When others ran for cover we were staunch and held our ground.

“To give mother her credit, she stayed with us from morning until dusk and never complained of getting bored. Dad, on the other hand, would last about an hour on the sand, on a good day. He would wait for us above on the grass and wave down and wonder when these kids were going to get fed up of the beach and want to go home. He would have a long wait.

“I like to imagine that he still watches over us, and still waits.”

Stephen recalls: “When the tide went out, it left warm pools to bathe in over by the cliffs, and in some cases small caves that you dared not venture in, in fear.”

He and his brother Mike would pull plastic boats or ships behind them.

“When with us, Dad would hold us high on his shoulders as he waded out into the tall waves, scaring the daylights out of us on purpose. 

You could hear the screams and yells of children as they jumped the incoming waves, played ball, held on to flapping kites, or just made castles in the sand.

“And there sitting uncomfortably on the edge of the blanket, looking out of place in his heavy tweeds, shirt and tie and cap, is your man from the front of Roches, waiting. Out of place again, on the edge of more the blanket. He will spend the required time then hoof it up for tea in the shade of a hotel. Or head to the pub to wait it out.”

There were forays away from the beach on those summer days too, recalls Stephen.

“Every few hours, we would hop from foot to foot on the hot tar up the steep hill to the two shops near the bathrooms. These shops had all you ever wanted as a child. Little plastic windmills spun in the wind like propellers, balloons, kites, boats, bright buckets and shovels stuck out from every possible place.

“There, laid out, was an array of sweets and delights that would leave your mouth watering if not so already in the sweltering heat. The smells of cotton candy, cones, periwinkles and sun lotions filled the sea air.

“We would each buy a ninety-nine cone with a chocolate crumbling ‘flake’ stuck in the top. Then, before it melted, you would climb up the coarse grass to the hill on top and look down on the beach far below, trying to see your own blanket.

“When we’d finished, we’d scoot down the hill again with a runny and melting cone for the mother.

“In the late afternoon, we would be left to ourselves as the parents went over and had tea at the far end of the beach. If feeling indulgent, they would treat themselves to a warm seaweed bath. All we could think about was the slimy. shiny fronds of the bubbled seaweed and we couldn’t believe they would willingly bathe in it!

“If it was wet or rainy, we would go for tea and Club Milks at Dana’s. There you would pick out postcards from the revolving racks and write and send them, though we probably would be home before they got there.

There were always treats in the front window of Beasleys that would catch your eye, and we wouldn’t be happy until we had emptied our pockets and had it in our hands.

“There were toy cars, diaries, seashells, boats, storybooks and the ever favourite candy rock. This was a long piece of hard candy, the outside pink and inside white which cleverly had the word Ballybunion ingrained in the white centre. You would bring them home as gifts or ruin many a good appetite or tooth.

Two Hours Free

More Asdee prayers from the Schools Folklore collection

“God bless the break down” is said of a horse broke his leg.

“The light of heaven to the poor souls” is said when the lamp is lighted in the evening.

“Praise be to God” is said when some wonder occurs.

“Jesus, Mary and Joseph” is said when some bad story is heard.

“God help us” is said to a person in trouble.

“God increase you” is said when a person gets some food in another house.

“That God may help you” is said when giving alms to the poor.

“God guard us” is said if you saw something terrible.

Dia linn agus Muire Máthair agus Rí na Domhnaigh agus Naomh Eóghain baiste linn”. If this prayer is said when a person sneezes that person will never get a toothache.

“God be with him” is said when a person emigrates to a foreign country.

“God direct you” if a person is going on a journey or doing some work.

“If my Guardian Angel be truly fond of me, the darkest night I shall have light from your lantern, to have me conveyed to the gates of Paradise. Oh heavenly Father Thy pardon I crave”.

“God guard us” it is said when a person saw something terrible happened.

“That God may help you” it is said if you gave a piece of bread to a poor person.

“Matthew Michael Luke and John God bless the bed that I lie on if I die before I wake I pray to God have my soul to take”.

“God have mercy on us” is said when a person is troubled

“Welcome be the holy will of God” is said when a misfortune happens.

“The light of heaven to all the poor souls in Purgatory and our own souls at the last day” is said when the candles are lighted on Christmas Eve.

“That we may be all alive to see them lighted again” is said also when the candles are lit Christmas Eve.

“God save the hearers” is said when the thing happens but very seldom.

“O Divine Jesus lonely to night in so many tabernacles I offer thee my lonely heart may its every beating be a prayer of love to thee thou art always present. –

The sacramental veils in thy love thou never sleepest thou art never weary of thy vigil for poor sinner. O Loving Jesus, O lonely Jesus may my heart be a lamp of light of which shall burn and beem for thee alone watch Sacramental sentinel. Watch for the weary world for thy erring soul for thy poor and lonely child”. is said to wish good night to our Lord in the Blessed Sacrament.

“God love you” is said to a young person who does something for an old person.

“Snuachan maith chugat” is also said to a young person who does something for an old person.

“Hail and blessed be thy hour and moment in which the Son of God was born of the most pure Virgin Mary at midnight in the piercing cold in the stable of Bethlehem. At that same moment and hour vouchsafe my God to hear my prayer and grant my request through the merits of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ”. This prayer is said fifteen times every night from the 30th. of November to Christmas Eve.

“I wish you a happy Christmas” is said to a person on Christmas morning.

“God grant you all happiness in the New Year” is said to aperson on New Year’s morning.

“A long life to you” is said to a person who gives something to the poor.

“Bad luck from you” is said to a person who does some good act for another person.

“More luck to you” is said to a person who wins something playing cards.

“Lord save us from all dangers” is said in time of thunder.

“Salvation to you mam. Amen a Thíghearna Íosa Críost” is said by an old woman who gets a pinch of snuff from another woman.

“The Lord have mercy on all the poor souls who left you and that you may meet them the last day” is said by a beggar who gets a grain of flour.

“Welcome be the holy will of God” is said when a misfortune happens.

“Go bhfóiridh Dia orainn” is said when a person is in trouble.

COLLECTOR

Eddie Murphy

Gender

Male

Age

14

Address

Tullahennel North, Co. Kerry

School; Astee

New Businesses

While I was away the town went into overdrive, with a new business opening up every day. Here are a few.

A New florist on Church Street

A new barber’s on Church Street

CB Aesthetics, a skincare specialist in Tae Lane

A Fact

Close on one million turkeys are sold in Ireland in the run up to Christmas Day.

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Grandchildren

Christmas scene in Ballincollig

Continuing my Nana tour

Carine, Bobby and me supporting Sean in his Winter League tennis match. His team, Lakewood, won.

You know you’re old when your grandson joins you in a Christmas drink.

Ever played Rummikub? It’s a great game. Cora is the family champ.

If you know the game, you’ll have sympathy for me here. I had 28 tiles and was being accused of holding up the whole show. I still couldn’t meld (i.e. start to play). You can only start by putting down 3 tiles adding up to 30 or more.

A Creative Writer helping Ard Chúram

I missed the launch of this one but I’m enjoying reading the book. Some of Dick’s writing has appeared on Listowel Connection before. The title of his latest book might give the impression that it is a scholarly work. It is a very accessible book with something for everyone.

A Robin photographed by Chris Grayson

The First Christmas essay of 2024

Christmas is a time when it’s nice to wallow in the familiar. I make a point of reposting the same Christmas stuff year after year. You’ve read this before but it’s worth another read.

MY BEST CHRISTMAS  SO FAR.

   By Mattie Lennon.

   It was mid-December in the third decade of the twenty-first century. I was at a Toastmasters Table Topics session. Because of my dubious ability to read upside down, I could make out the Topic master’s list of questions at the top table. One jumped out at me. “What was your best Christmas ever?”   I hoped I’d get that one. I had an answer.

    My best Christmas was Christmas 1956 but I didn’t know it at the time.  About the eighth of December that year I developed a pain in my stomach which didn’t feel all that serious. .  Various stages of discomfort, ranging from relatively mild to severe pain, continued until the end of the month.  By this stage a hard lump could be felt in my stomach. All kinds of remedies from the relic of Blessed Martin de Porres to Lourdes water to many folk “cures” were applied. None of them did me any harm. Medical intervention hadn’t been sought. And because of the thinking of the time and the climate in which we lived I don’t blame anyone for that… On Sunday December 30th Doctor Clearkin from Blessington was called.    As the December light was fading he examined me. His work illuminated by lamplight as rural electrification was still in the future. He told my parents that if it was appendicitis then I was “a very strong boy.” He was puzzled and didn’t make a diagnosis. His best guess was that one of my testicles hadn’t descended and he insisted that I was too ill to be out of bed.

   He called the ambulance and on arrival I wanted to sit in the front but Mick Byrne, the driver, was adamant that I would be parallel with the horizontal in the back. I don’t know what time we arrived at Baltinglass Hospital but the doctor there was equally puzzled. 

   I was loaded up again and we hit the road for Mercer’s Hospital in Dublin. It was only my second visit to the Capital. The previous May my father brought me to Frawleys in Thomas Street to buy my Confirmation suit.

    Two years earlier I spent some days in hospital with a knocked-out elbow so I wasn’t all that perturbed by the clinical environment.

 My details were taken as well as the name of the local postmaster as the post office in Lacken was our nearest phone… I received a penicillin injection every four hours and I still remember the taste of liquid paraffin. Many doctors examined me and all were equally puzzled. . One of them described me as “intelligent” but very few people have agreed with him since.

. Whenever I hear the ballad “Sean South from Garryowen” I’m transported back to the radio of Patsy Cavanagh from Craanford County Wexford, who was in the corner of the ward. It was New Year’s Day 1953 and the main news item covered the shooting of Sean South and Fergal O’ Hanlon at Brookeborough, County Fermanagh the night before.

   I’m not sure if I turned off the immersion this morning or where I put the car keys but I’m amazed at how many names of my fellow patients I can remember after more than three score years. There was Seamus  Osborne also from Craanford, Tony Hand, from Arklow, who was younger than me and whose father was in the army. Pipe smoking Kerryman, Tim Toomey, who was a guard in Enniskerry. When he learned that his father had died he asked me to say a prayer for him. George McCullough, a farmer,  from Goresbridge, County Kilkenny who was a seanachai and didn’t know it.  

  On that  first day of the New Year, my father came  to visit me. He was able to tell me that one of the surgeons in Mercers had “his hands blessed by the Pope.”  When, not quite out of earshot, he asked a doctor about my condition, he was told. “Well, He’s an unusual case.” ( I was still a mystery to the medical profession.)  

   I didn’t ever ascertain how close to death I was. I meant to look for my medical records before Mercers Hospital closed in 1983  but procrastination got in the way.  So far I have lived through 77 Christmases, all of them good even if some of them resulted in severe hangovers. But the best one was in 1956. . .  because I was alive to see it.

    Oh, at the table topic session I was asked “If you had to cook for eight people on Christmas Day what would you do?”.  I wasn’t disappointed that I didn’t get the other question. How would I have fitted my prepared answer, to the other question, into two minutes?  

A Fact

From 1945 to 1966 the Abbey Theatre pantomime was in the Irish language.

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Old Days and Old Ways

McKenna’s Christmas Window

If you think you are beaten, you are

Recipes

A Celtic Brooch

The Hunterston Brooch, produced around 700A.D. and made from silver, gold and amber, is a fine example of early medieval Irish metalworking. The brooch was found in Scotland in 1830. An Old Norse inscription names its owner as Maél Brigda, meaning “devotee of Saint Brigid”.

In Kildare

In Newbridge there were giant reindeer everywhere.

In the Whitewater Shopping Centre

The Rabbit Industry

Thanks to John Bradley for the photos and story.

A Treat for a Sunday Evening

A Fact

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Christmas cooking, decorating and card writing

Mags Deli at Christmas 2024

Fairytale of New York

The people at Mags’ Deli loved this year’s Christmas windows theme. They did a great job on their Fairytale of New York installation.

Maura Laverty’s Cookery Bible

Talk of Maura Laverty and her recipes brought back memories for Judy MacMahon, who still refers to her mother’s copy of the book. Full and Plenty is a classic, no colour, few pictures, just recipes and instructions.

The Proof is in….

Michael O’Callaghan sent us this recipe from Carmel Ní Ghairbhín…her grandmother’s recipe. This one sounds nice and spicy.

A Little Rail Trip

Free travel is brilliant. What a pity we don’t still have a railway station in Listowel. I took my journey to Kildare from Kent Station in Cork.

Look at the gap I was asked to “mind”. The word mind in this case always fascinates me. In the case of Kent station I mind dreadfully for it is an understatement to call it a gap. It’s a chasm.

A Poem

Christmas Cards

A letter to The Irish Times…..

I’m posting this today because I agree with John.

This year’s Kerry Hospice cards are as beautiful as usual.

Kerry Hospice Christmas cards 2024

A Fact

A 32p Irish stamp featuring a robin was issued by An Post in 1997.

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Mona Bradley R.I.P. of Listowel and Kanturk

Photo credit; Chris Grayson…Elegant stag in National Park

Christmas Decorations

Innocent times in the 1950s and 60s when we made our own decorations. The only shop bought decorations I remember were paper streamers and what my mother called mottoes. There were glossy sheets of card with phrases like “God Bless our home at Christmas” and “Happy Christmas to All”. They were pinned under shelves and mantlepieces. Christmas cards were displayed as decorations as well.

The ESB booklet had a few suggestions for homemade decorations. People, particularly women, had loads of time for this caper when we had no TV or internet. Can you imagine anyone trying this today?

The following one predates The Sound of Music but it has a whiff of Maria Von Trapp about it.

Mona Bradley R.I.P.

This is the story of a lady, part of whose life journey was a mirror image of mine. Mona spent her young life in Listowel and went over the border to Kanturk on marriage.

Here is her story as told to us by her son, John.

Listowel Connection

Nora Mary Duggan was born 08/05/1934 to parents Jack and Hannah Maria Duggan, Dirha West, Listowel.  Nora Mary, better known as Mona, was the 4th youngest of a large family consisting of 8 girls and 5 boys. 

Sadly, Mona lost her mother when she was only 13. Hannah Marie Duggan, nee Walsh, passed away at age 47.

Mona worked as a barmaid in Broderick’s Bar in Tae Lane, Listowel.  During this time circa 1955 she met Michael Bradley from Kanturk who was a regular visitor to Listowel as the company he worked for (Fitzpatrick’s Hatchery) also had a premises/shop in Church Street, Listowel.  Mona and Michael first began dating in September 1955 at the Race Dance. 

Mona and Michael on their first date

She married Michael Bradley on 24th June 1959 and moved to Kanturk where she lived for the rest of life. In Michael’s marriage vows he promised to take Mona every week to Listowel, which he did every Sunday to visit her sisters and relatives.  Even when Michael retired he continued with the Listowel visits every week.

June 24 1959

Mona and Michael had 4 children, John, Breda, Joan and Monica who also spent a lot of time in Listowel and Ballybunion of course.  Mona always went to Listowel Races for the whole week and always looked forward to meeting all her relatives and neighbours.

While in Kanturk, Mona went back to her love of bar work taking a part-time job at The Alley Bar.  Mona was always a Listowel (Kerry) woman, and her favourite times were Munster Final Days when more often than not Kerry would prevail.  She would have her Kerry hat on when everyone would call that night in the bar and the slagging would start.

Behind the counter in The Alley Bar, Strand Street

Mona was a hugely popular woman in Kanturk where she made loads of friends and went on to have a very happy Life.

Mona Bradley outside The Alley Bar a few years before her death

Sadly, Mona’s husband, Michael, passed away in February 2002 after a short illness and Mona passed away in November 2019.  

For the Diary

Decorating St. Joseph‘s

When I was in St. Joseph’s last week, Christmas decorating was underway.

Mary beside the Christmas tree in the cozy recreation room.

A Fact

Birds sing mainly in spring and early summer but robins sing all year round.

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