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

A Round Tower, Nestlings in Dromin and Censorship

Road to Rattoo in May 2021 Photo: Bridget O’Connor

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Mattie and the Censors

SENSLESS CENSORS.

By  Mattie Lennon

Flann O Brien had a burning ambition to have at least one of his books banned. When he invented the character Fr Kurt Fahrt he said, “  The name will cause holy bloody ructions. It will lead to wirepulling behind the scenes here to have the book banned as obscene.”           But the book wasn’t banned, which brings me to sensors.                                                              

It has been said that every editor should have a brother who is a pimp. To give him (the editor that is) somebody to look up to.  Should every censor have a similar sibling?  

There is a World Day Against Cyber censorship. It is celebrated every year on the twelfth of  March. Should there be a world Day against the other sort of censors?     My namesake,  the critic Michael Lennon wrote that Ulysses was,” . Not so much pornographic as physically unclean……” I am not in a position to agree with or contradict him. Because despite numerous attempts over the years I have not yet got to Molly Bloom’s “Yes I said yes I will yes.”   Of course contrary to popular belief  Ulysses wasn’t ever officially banned in Ireland   so  ninety-seven years after its publication I can’t blame the censor for my lack of erudition in that area.

  However, though I am reluctant to use the word “victim”,   for more than three score years I have 

been a soft touch for “censors” of various hues.  Although in most cases I took Sam Goldwyn’s advice to, “Don’t even ignore them.”

  As a bus inspector I once submitted a report on a complaint from an irate passenger.  I had transcribed, verbatim, his objection which included many expletives, known in polite society as “the vernacular of the soldier.”  My Divisional Manager asked me to change the wording,   explaining, “I can’t ask the girls to type that. “

   As   fifteen year old,  due to strict parental supervision, I was obliged to devour the exploits of The Ginger Man,  Sebastian Balfe Dangerfield , and his fantasies about Miss Frost,   in the semi-darkness of the cow-house in remote  west Wicklow.  While “the shelves of Patrick Kavanagh’s library” were the hedges of his small farm at Shankaduff my book collection  was kept on   the wall-plates of a thatched byre  which lacked diurnal illumination  By the time I got my hands on “Goodbye to the Hill” a neighbour had moved out, his cottage was empty and I could savour the carryings on of Paddy Maguire around Ranelagh and Rathmines  in relative comfort.

  A wise man once said that if you want something to last for ever you should either carve it in stone or write a song about it. Although I grew up within spitting distance of Ballyknockan granite quarries I am no stone-cutter.  But I did on  occasions make a feeble effort to record local happening in ill metred verse. Court cases were threatened more than once  but , sadly, didn’t materialise . And before you ask .  . . I haven’t ever been prosecuted under the Obscene Publications act.

  My verbosity didn’t escape censure either. My olfactory organ, you will have noticed,  has a Grecian bend. And what, you may well ask ,has that got to do with censors?  I didn’t acquire my nasal fracture through walking into a wall, falling down, or being hit accidently. No. It happened in Blessington  fifty-five  years ago when a civic-minded man, head-butted me on the grounds that I had been using un- parliamentary language in the company of females. The ultimate in censorship I think you will agree.

When my one-act Play,  “A Wolf by the Ears” was staged by an amateur drama group in Kildare the producer removed just one line. “In case there would be somebody sinsitive in the hall “, he said. 

   I have no way of knowing when I will be finished with censors but I know when it started. 

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The Supreme Court sits in Dromin

Photo and Caption credit: Paddy Fitzgibbon

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Remember this ?

I took this picture in 2007. No doubt this drinking trough had been there for hundreds of years, maybe even when it was a cows’ lawn. Health and safety concerns necessitated its removal.

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Believe it or Not

Switzerland only gave women the vote in 1971

(From: 1339 Facts to Make your Jaw Drop)

Tralee Town Park in May 2021 and Handball Memories Sought

Photo credit; Bridget O’Connor

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In Childers’ Park

Out and about with pets in Listowel Town Park

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Schools’ Folklore, Clandouglas School

This story was told to the writer by William McElligott, a farmer of 65 years of age from Glenoe between Listowel and Tralee. He was bred and born there and still lives there. He told me that Gleann na Léime was so called from Finn Mac Cumhail who used to hunt in that district with his Fianna. It is said he jumped from one side of the glen to the other a distance of 500 feet and that he attempted to jump it back again but failed. He fell in the rocks between the two hills. His footprints are still to be seen six inches deep in the solid rock. He then threw a stone 2 tons in weight, and it alighted in a meadow 3/4 miles away in a field in Mr. McElligott’s farm. That meadow is still called Rockfield. The stone stands there still, five feet under and five feet over the ground.


There is another field in Mr. McElligott’s farm called “Andy’s meadow” . He always heard the tradition that in the time of the “White Boys” they used to practise drilling there. It is believed that guns were hidden there.

The same man, Mr. Wm. McElligott, Glenoe told me the following story which was told him by his father who died years ago.
One night he, the father, got out of bed to look at a field of corn as he was afraid the cows would break in to it. He found one heifer in the corn, and he set the dog on her. The dog drove the heifer out of the cornfield + followed her a circuitous route to the house, the man himself coming across the fields in the direction of the house too. When crossing one field he heard the galloping of horses and cracking of whips and he had to run to get out of the way of a number of horsemen. When he reached the fence he looked again and saw them steering their course for the wild bog and they were soon out of sight.
When the man reached the house, he found both dog and heifer in the yard. He tied the heifer in the stall and went to bed. In a short time after the heifer appeared outside the window of the room, bellowing. He remained in bed until morning, when he got out and dressed.

He went to the stall to see if the heifer was there. There she was tied, as he had left her earlier in the night.
COLLECTOR Margaret Shanahan

INFORMANT Mr William Mc Elligott

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Changes in Town

Grape and Grain, Church Street
Number 18 Church Street

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Remembering the Handball Alleys

I have been contacted by Caoimhe about this exciting new project. Below is her call out to everyone with any memories of Listowel Handball Alley. Maybe you have played there, courted there, took part in a decorating project there…any memory at all, Caoimhe wants to hear from you. She will be in town in the next few weeks. If you’d like to talk to her to share a memory drop me a line at listowelconnection@gmail.com

IN YOUR WORDS…

Do you have a handball alley tale to tell? 

Airy, natural, honest, unadorned – handball alleys are magical spaces full of stories – we’re creating a collection & would love to hear YOURS.  Get involved by contacting Caoimhe at broadreach@coisceim.com with memories of your handball alley. We are welcoming stories in written form via email, but Caoimhe will also be visiting Listowel in the coming weeks so if you would like to tell your tale and have it recorded or transcribed – just let us know!

Find out more at https://coisceim.com/inthemagichour/ or email broadreach@coisceim.com for further details.

IN THE MAGIC HOUR is presented as part of Brightening Air | Coiscéim Coiligh, a nationwide, ten day season of arts experiences brought to you by Arts Council Ireland. To see the full Brightening Air | Coiscéim Coiligh programme, visit www.brighteningair.com

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Believe It or Not

The man who sent the world’s first email in 1971 can’t remember what it said.

(Source; 1339 Facts to make your Jaw Drop)

Coffee, The Man’s Shop and Some People I met in the Park

Wake up and Smell the Coffee

 There I was bowling along, listening to Pat Kenny and Prof. Luke O’Neill on Thursday May 6 2021, when Pat told us that studies had discovered that people who had lost their sense of smell due to Covid 19 had it restored by smelling Turkish coffee. They also told us that your sense of taste is very closely bound up with your sense of smell so if you have lost both due to Covid it’s worth a try at restoring them by smelling the coffee.

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The Mans Shop

Ned O’Sullivan shared this photo of his family shop William Street. It was taken in 1963.


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Out and About with Camera

It was lovely to run into friends I haven’t seen in ages.  We are all missing the attentions of professional hairdressers.

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Jim and Liz Dunn were making a rare foray into Listowel. I was pleased to note that they are in good spirits, part vaccinated and looking forward to resuming their very busy lives.


Seán Treacy was sporting an impressive head of curls.


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Lovely New Coffee (and lots more) Shop in Ballybunion

They even have a little creche for your dog while you are indoors.


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*Look out for News of a moving house nature tomorrow*


Things we used to do and a Story of a Lixnaw Robin Hood


Glentenassig photo: Martin Moore

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Bobby Darin used to sing a song about “the things we used to do”. 

I’ve been reminiscing a lot lately about things I used to do.


Every night I sit here by my window (window)
Staring at the lonely avenue (avenue)
Watching lovers holdin’ hands and laughin’ 
Thinkin’ ’bout the things we used to do….


During Covid 19 I have missed the folks at home and trips to the shows to support their horses.

Shows like this one in Clonakilty are a highlight of the summer.

Meeting the horses at home is another summer activity.

Dublin Horse Show, cancelled now for two years, will surely return in 2022.




This is my brother welcoming the newest addition to the yard. She is named Cashew. The naming policy has gone nuts. It used to be rugby players. I’m looking forward to seeing the newest smallest sweetest nut very soon.

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Remember when we had great walking tours?

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Lartigue Drawbridge 

A lovely picture of one of the Lartigue monorail’s unique drawbridges.

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St. Mary’s is open for Worship again


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Seáinín Cois na Tine, a Bold Raparee

From Clandouglas School in The Schools’ Folklore Collection

This story was told to John Reidy who lives in Ballyhennessy and is a postman about 45 years of age, by an old man named William Hennessy who lived in same place and was born there. Old William lived up to last year and was 105 years old when he died. John Reidy told it to me about a month ago.

Seáinín complained of the cold in the hottest weather and loved to sit as near the fire as possible, hence his name. He (died) was hanged about the same time that old William Hennessy was born, but stories of his daring are told up to the present day.
He belonged to the poorer class and championed them when needs were, in the way of stealing cattle from the wealthy people and distributing the meat among the poor, hiding the tallow in kegs in the local bogs. 

One night a landlord named Supple who lived in Ballyhennessy gave a great party to his Protestant friends and fellow landlords and he asked each guest to come heavily armed to the party lest they would be waylaid by Seáinín. Seáinín heard it in the meantime and decided to keep out of the way. 

The Banquet started and as each guest sat to the table he hung his firearms on the back of the chair. Every thing went on right royally for a long time and when the feast was at its height, Seáinín suddenly burst through the window glass and all, holding a loaded pistol in each hand. He shouted “the first man who moves will be shot”. Nobody stirred knowing he meant what he said, and he ordered each man to empty what money he had in his pockets into a bag which hung at Seáinín’s side for the purpose. They did so and he decamped, afterwards distributing the money among the poor of the place. 

Then the police were on his track and in a house in Dungurrow east of Ballyhennessy they came upon him. He was heavily armed and succeeded in killing 3 police but the woman of the house who happened to be very powerful and strong, fearing that her home would be burned down for harbouring a Raparee, stole behind him and pinned his arms to his sides. In this way he was captured taken out, and hanged from the nearest tree. 

Also during Seáinín’s time, when he heard of a notice to quit being served on a tenant farmer by the Landlord he used to send a threatening notice to the L.Lord warning him that he would be shot if the eviction took place. In this way he often saved an unfortunate family from being flung on the roadside

COLLECTOR
Margaret Shanahan
INFORMANT
John Reidy
Gender
male
Occupation
postman
Address
Ballyhennessy, Co. Kerry


Visitors in Times Past, Our Man in Washington and a Holy Well in Lixnaw

 Ballybunion

Photo; Bridget O’Connor

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I miss visitors. One of the great joys of my life is the visits of family and friends and introducing them to our lovely town and its attractions.

My visitors love nothing better than a walk on the beach in summer or winter.

When in Listowel, do as the locals do and attend a book signing.

You’d never know who you’d meet on a walk with Nana. This was our first sighting of a drone when, one day, we met Brendan Landy with his new piece of kit.

Fun in Tralee town park with the girlies

Sadly we’ll have to wait another year to take visitors on The Lartigue.

Tony and Mary McKenna from Kildare are regular visitors. I haven’t seen them in over a year.


Oh to walk again with the Listowel Writers’ Week regulars

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Schools’ Folklore Collection, Clandouglas School

St. Michael’s Well

This is situated in the lowland of Ballinageragh about a quarter of a mile from Lixnaw village. The well or the bed of it is deep and is surrounded by high mounds of Earth. Worn steps lead down to the well which runs dry in warm summers. It has no visible outlet though a dyke of water runs along the south side about 15 yards distant from the well. The mounds of earth are said to be the remains of an early church which was dedicated to St. Michael who is patron of the Parish of the present Roman Catholic Church there. His feast day is celebrated on 29th September and in the last generation that day was held as a parish holiday, no work was done, and the people dressed in their best assembled in Ballinageragh after hearing mass in the village church. 

Ballinageragh is a little village in itself, bounded on the western side by the marshes which lie along the River Brick. The name is supposed to mean

the townland of the Berries (sloes are plentiful there)} 

 or the townland of the marshes. Others say a pattern was held there on the 29th Sep. Plays of all kinds, tinkers, thimble men, “Maggie Sticks,” Pie shops and SHEBEENS (Irish: síbín) were general features of the pattern. Pipers also attended, McCarthy the Piper (R.I.P) being the last piper to attend there. Roadside dances were carried on to the strains of music, and that night he retired to the house of a neighbouring farmer and dancing music were carried on to the small hours of the morning.The waters of the well are believed to cure toothache, sore eyes and general complaints including nervousness, mental trouble. An elderly woman, Mrs Dan Quilter, Gurthenare (Gortinare – Gortaneare) Lixnaw, Co Kerry, still living who had mental trouble paid several rounds at the well and was finally cured. She then put up a statue of St. Michael on a slab over the well in thanksgiving for her cure. Some years after she got another attack of this same disease but it did not last long. 

The round at the well is paid as follows. Kneel in front of the well and start one round of the beads

Then stand up and walk round the well three times, finishing the fifth decade in front of well. Then start another round of the beads and walk three times round the well and finish 5th decade in front of well. The third round of the beads is started in the same way and finished in front of well. This means 3 Rosaries and 9 rounds of the well. You then wash affected part in the water of the well getting the water in some vessels. Some of the water is also taken home in a bottle.

There is a tradition that you should leave 3 tokens at the well after you; it may be 3 hairpins, 3 matches, 3 strings, etc. for fear the Saint would not know you were there until he would see the tokens, one for each “round”.
M. Shanahan
Clandouglas N.S. Lixnaw Co Kerry
Information got from Mc Tom Lawlor aged 70
Irribeg Lixnaw Co Kerry


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They’ve brought Donie in


Photo posted on Twitter by fellow Irishman, CNN’s John King


We’re used to CNN and Cahirciveen’s Donie O’Sullivan out and about interviewing conspiracy theorists and Trump supporters. We also knew that he spent time at CNN behind a computer screen fact checking stories.

Now he’s been promoted and, instead of the warm coat, he is suited and booted in the studio contributing on air.

Well done, Donie,  flying the flag for Kerry in the heart of U.S. media.

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