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

Tag: John Fitzgerald Page 1 of 2

The First TV in Kerry

By

On June 26, 2024

In Listowel, Listowel Writers Week

Looking into The Garden on Europe in June 2024

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Remembering Paddy Fitzgibbon

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Early Adoptors

(Pic and story from Facebook page Anyone from Ballyduff out there)

In the early days, Mr. and Mrs. Bridie and Liam Kearney embarked on their entrepreneurial journey, establishing their business in the quaint setting of Mrs. White’s old shop in Benmore. The very location that now houses Buds was once the hub where they offered an array of products, from new bicycles to battery-powered radios. On December 1, 1961, the Kearney’s achieved a significant milestone by receiving one of the first television signals in Kerry. Their innovative spirit also led them to introduce the first milking machines in the area and to install the pioneering oil-fired central heating systems in newly constructed houses. A captivating photo captures the moment when Liam and Bridie received the inaugural television picture in Kerry, marking a defining moment in the history of their business.

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A Poem by John Fitzgerald

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Death of a Legend

This photograph of the late Micheál ÓMuircheartaigh was posted by his nephew in 2018. In this snap Micheál is celebrating his 90th birthday by abseiling down Dún Síon.

Micheál was the ultimate professional commentator. His legendary witticisms and anecdotes were carefully crafted and memorised. He had a prodigious memory and capacity for instant recall.

He was a gentleman to his fingertips and loved by Kerrymen and Irishmen everywhere.

His will be the voice of commentary as Gaeilge forever.

Slán abhaile a Mhichíl

Go gcloise tú ceol binn na nAingeal go sioraí.

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A Fact

This old man he played one
He played nick nack on my drum
With a nick nack paddy whack
Give a dog a bone
This old man came rolling home….

This rhyme is thought to have originated in the time of The Famine. Irishmen, fleeing the Famine, ended up on the streets of England begging for a living. These beggars were often badly treated. The rhyme suggests that even the dogs were thrown something but not the beggar who was given a “whack” and sent packing.

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Lovely Listowel Memories

By

On November 21, 2022

In Duagh, Listowel, Poem

Listowel Town Square in November 2022

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Round the Block

A Poem by John Fitzgerald

Let us go then, you and I

Round the Block, beneath the sky

Like two prisoners on a street

Back in time when young boys meet

Past busy lanes, bustling shops

Penny sweets and summer shots

Munched in silence when alone

Thinking of those friends now gone.

Up William Street, left and right

Pubs, clothes shops will catch the eye

Smell of commerce everywhere

Traffic vying to get you there

Coffee shops and restaurants

Fancy names when hunger taunts

“Hot dinners” there once in vogue

Pizzas, burgers now to choose.

At the Sheriff’s, Charles Street

Corner boys a vantage keep

Swapping tales and street reviews

Up to date with daily news

Live the painters, the wood grainers

Eagle eyes, true colour changers

Cut stone houses there to see

I know you and you know me.

Leaving Charles Street for Forge Lane

Halfway Round the Block we’ve come

Blacksmiths two and cobblers one

Artists each and everyone 

Short the street but great the craft

Lineage of a class apart

As we head down to Church Street

Last leg of the Block we reach.

Linking Church Street to the Square

Young and old pass everywhere

Shopfronts of an older day

Proudly boast an ancient way

Harp and Lion in God we trust

“Spes in Deo” is put first

Latin, French and Irish mix

In bold relief, in plaster rich.

As we walk we talk a lot

Writers, stories priming thought

Bryan, the Master and John B.

Raise the bar for all to see

Characters, an endless list

Can lift mood at a twist

Each time ventured Round the Block

Transformed but no memory lost.

Threaded beads of incident

To be found in every sense

Raise your head, they put you down

That’s what happens in my town

Lower it and they raise you up

That is what is called support

As the bell strikes in the Square

Our walk is timed to finish there.

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Hollywood Memories

Charles McCarthy spotted this in the Towers Hotel

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Traditional Holly and Ivy Decorations

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Well Deserved Honour for Duagh Broadcaster

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Christmas is Coming

Christmas is coming

And the goose is getting fat.

Please put a penny in the old man’s hat.

If you haven’t got a penny a ha’penny will do.

If you haven’t got a ha’penny

God bless you.

November 16 2022

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Ballybunion, A Ball Alley Poem and a Fact

By

On July 7, 2021

In Ballybunion, handball, Listowel

Photo; Éamon ÓMurchú in Howth

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Ahafona

I have often seen this mural on my way into Ballybunion. Last week I stopped to have a look around.

I think the welcome sign is probably best seen by a drone.

Do you remember the Irish Open of 2000? I was there in a different life.

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As a kind off post script to the handball alley stories, here again is John Fitzgerald’s lovely paen of praise to the alley and four of its best players. The foursome mentioned in the poem are Junior Griffin, Tom Enright and Dermot Buckley from the Bridge Road and John Joe Kenny from Patrick Street.

The Ball Alley

A poem by John Fitzgerald

The Alley

Standing on the dead line

I face the pockmarked wall,

it hides the bridge above me

fond memories I recall,

the side walls mark the theatre,

the concrete floor the stage,

four players take their places

the finest of their age.

The cocker’s hopped and hardened,

Junior’s feet fix solidly

he contemplates the angle

of the first trajectory.

His swinging arm begins the game

the ball’s hit low and fast,

a signal to John Joe and Tom

this will be no soft match.

Dermot standing by his side

sees his neighbour win first toss,

a simple game to twenty one

no ace is easily lost.

I watch them from the grassy mound

behind the dead ball line

 hear the cries of older boys

cheer each one at a time

and in the space of half an hour

the ball has weaved its way

through every nook and cranny

in this battlefield of play,

the long ball to the back line

the close one to the wall

the deadly butted killer 

seemed to hit no wall at all

and in end the four of them

take leave just as they came

and beckon us to take our place

and learn more of their game,

the game that gave such pleasure

the game I got to know.

when I was young and full of fun

in the Alley years ago.

(The cocker was the name they had for the ball)

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The Friday Market is very small these times

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A Fact

Tikka Masala

Where does Tikka Masala, which is Britain’s most popular take away curry, originate from?

No, not Bangladesh or any other Middle Eastern country.

The answer is Glasgow.

This is the story according to my Fact book.

Chicken tandoori began to feature on restaurant menus in the mid 1960s.

A Glasgow restaurant served it to its customers. A diner asked for extra sauce. The chef improvised a sauce of tomato soup, spices and cream.

Masala means a mixture of spices. Tikka Masala contains cardamon, cloves, cumin, nutmeg, paprika, fenugreek and chilli among other things.

Turmeric is the spice that gives it its bright yellow colour and a synthentic dye tartrazine is what causes it to ruin your clothes with an unremovable stain.

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Shops and Signs, A Poem a Recent Snap or two and a To Let Sign

By

On June 2, 2020

In Uncategorized

KDYS /Old Carnegie Free Library

This lovely old building is at the top of Church Street where it joins Dowd’s Road

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Listowel shops and their signs during Lockdown 2020

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Carroll’s is Open

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At the AIB


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Carroll’s Yard


The River Walk

After a long dry spell the level of water in the river is very low.

There was a funeral in progress in the church.

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The Dawn above the Dark


John Fitzgerald has written a poem for those who have forgotten what a pulled pint is.

The Dawn above the Dark

Out of a gold grained silvered font the dark stream seeks the light The gargoyle bows its ugly head To flow it out of night

Into a steady downward plunge that surges up the dawn
and takes it o’er the ticking glass to let the pint take form.

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Snapped in Town



Jimmy Deenihan was having a socially distant chat with a friend.



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First Covid Business Casualty ?



I am so sad to see a To Let sign on one of my favourite coffee shops.

Clean shops, Stag employees in Germany , A Clown poem and a photo of 2 clowns

By

On May 7, 2020

In Uncategorized

Photo; Liam Downes

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Our Shops were never so clean






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Stag employees trip to Germany with Dan Moloney T.D.


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Tralee clowns, Ronaldo and Giogo Fanzini meet Michael Lynch during Listowel Writers’ Week a few years ago

The Clown

by John Fitzgerald



John has another circus themed poem for us today.

The Clown

Who is this one I call the clown, 

Comes in and out of every town? 

You take a child of tender years, 

Fill with laughter, touch with tears. 

You live inside a sawdust ring,

A peg on which the circus clings; 

A whited face, a button nose, 

What is beneath, who is to know. 

A comic look of tragedy?

A tragic look of comedy?
Wise enough to know the fool, 

Kind enough to not be cruel;
A mask that ever hides your face, 

A shining light, a saving grace?

Who is this one I call the clown,
Comes in and out of every town?
Who is this one, what is your role,
When touching hearts, you touch the soul?

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A Spiral Staircase


That which we call a spiral staircase is not actually a spiral at all. It is helical. A spitral is two dimensional, a helix is three dimensional.

At a rough estimate, 10% of the population are left handed solo called spiral staircases were usually designed to favour right handed so that a deciding swordsman could fight off right handed attackers. Listowel castle has such a staircase.

There is a chateau in the Loire valley in France which has a double helix staircase so that people coming down dont bump into people going up. Sounds like good sense to me.

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A Covid Listowel Limerick


During Lockdown diversions we seek,

Of Zoom and of Facetime they speak.

On Liveline, a prude, while Trump talks of Jeyes Fluid.

And worse, no Listowel Writers’ Week 

Mattie Lennon.


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