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: Listowel Library

A Robin, Listowel’s Carnegie Library Remembered and signs of Spring at last

Ode to a robin

Chris Grayson photographed this robin as it breakfasted on a meal worm.

Dick Carmody wrote his robin a poem.

The Robin……           

            …….companion for a reluctant gardener.

Reluctantly I kneel to tend my garden, derived of some pride, devoid of great pleasure

Painstakingly I toil to keep apace of mother nature, as weeds compete with work rate

Then I am suddenly less aware on my ownliness, a companion ever present at my side

The Robin makes his predictable welcome appearance to distract from my discomfort.

Red-breasted, he sits proud upon the boundary wall to watch my laboured movement

Takes pride in that he fanned the fire in Bethlehem’s stable to keep the Baby warm

And how the flames had burned his then colourless breast to testify his zealousness

Or was it when he pulled the thorn from Jesus’ brow on his way to cross on Calvary

And now carries his blood-stained feathers as if to show his favoured ranking.

At arms length he follows my every move, often playing hide and seek with me     

Standing tall or sometimes with head erect, motionless he stares me eye to eye 

I could believe him God-sent, no other bird in sight in hedgerow or on leafless tree

Or is it just that he sees me as his meal-ticket, as I gather and discard the fallen leaves

Exposing tasty morsels in the unfrozen ground to help him cope with winter’s worst.

I move along, hunched on bended knee, he follows cautiously close behind, beside 

Sometimes out of sight, I seek him out again and know I will not be disappointed

For sure enough he’s back again here, there and everywhere, not taken for granted

Now gardening is less of a chore as I’m gifted a companion, my new forever friend.

© Dick Carmody                                                                                November, 2013.

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Listowel’s Library used to be housed in this elegant building. This is how it looked on Saturday February 17 2018. My friend, Helen, is crossing the road in the foreground.

Recent posts about the old library prompted memories for some blog followers.

Michael O’Sullivan sent us this clarification;

Hello Mary,

Everybody blamed the Black and Tans for burning the library in the bridge road in March 1921. But with access to the military witness statements in recent years it was revealed that the Listowel volunteers burned it as they feared the British were going to use it as a base. The great house a mile away in Tanavalla suffered the same fate in 1920,

Regards,

Michael O’ Sullivan


Mention of the library brought Cyril Kelly back to his boyhood and a memorable visit to the library with his inspirational teacher, Bryan MacMahon. Cyril shares with us this essay which was broadcast on `Sunday Miscellany;

CARNEGIE
LIBRARY   by Cyril Kelly

This
was the man who led us, both literally and metaphorically, from the classroom
every day. This was The Master, our Pied Piper, who was forever bugling a
beguiling tune, a tune sparkling with grace notes of the imagination. He’d have
us on the white steed behind Niamh, her golden fleece romping in our faces.
Transformed by his telling we had mutated into forty spellbound Oisíns.
Knockanore was disappearing in our wake. The briny tang of the ocean was in our
nostrils, bidding us to keep a westward course, forbidding us to glance back at
our broken hearted father, Fionn. We were heading for the land of eternal
youth, Tír na nÓg.

On
the very next antidotal day, we’d be traipsing after him, into the graveyard
beside the school. The narrow paths, with no beginning and no end criss-crossed
the place like some zoomorphic motif. We were on a mission to see who would be
the first to spot a headstone which was decorated with a Celtic design. The
diligent boys leading the line were in danger of overtaking the laggards at the
tail who were hissing that, in the dark recesses of the slightly open tomb,
they had seen, staring back at them, a yella skull.

But,
on very special days, we crossed the road to the Carnegie Library. Master
McMahon told us that it was the most magical building in the whole town. Even
the whole world, if it came to that. He told us that we were so lucky because
Andrew Carnegie, the richest man on earth, had bought all of these books for
us. We were amazed because none of us knew Andrew and we felt sure that he
didn’t know any of us. As a matter of fact, not one of us knew anyone who
bought books, either for us or for anyone else. Master McMahon said that the
Librarian, Maisie Gleeson, was minding the books for Carnegie and, especially
for the boys in 3rd class.

On
our first day in the library, we all had to line up on tippy-toes at Maisie’s
desk to scratch our names with nervous N-nibs on green cards. Maisie eyed us
all over her spectacles, welcoming each one of us ominously by name, telling us
that she knew our mothers and woe-be-tide anyone who didn’t behave themselves,
particularly any boy who did not take good care of Andrew’s books.

If you have a book,boys, Master McMahon’s voice was echoing around us. If you have a book, boys, you have an exciting friend.

Drumming
his fingers along a shelf, humming to himself, he flicked one of the books from
its place, tumbling it into his arms. Turning towards us, he held it like a
trophy in the air.

The Clue of The Twisted
Candle. Nancy Drew, boys. She’s a beauty. Blonde, like Niamh Cinn Óir. Solves
exciting mysteries for her father.

The
Master took his time to scan our expectant faces.

Here, Mickey,proffering the book to Mikey Looby whose father was a detective. Why don’t you sit down there at that table.
Read the first few chapters. See what Nancy Drew is up to this time.

Turning
to the shelves again, The Master threw back over his shoulder; Sure if I know anything, Mikey, you’ll
probably solve the mystery before she does.
Mikey, clasping the book in his
arms, stumbled to the nearest chair, thirty nine pairs of envious eyes fastened
to him. Sure it’s in the blood, Mikey
boy. It’s in the blood.

Selecting
another book, The Master faced us once more. This time he called on Dan
Driscoll.

I saw you driving your
father’s pony and cart to the fair last week. Three of the lovliest pink plump
bonavs you had. And what a fine looking pony Dan Driscoll has, boys.

Well, here in my hand I’m
holding Riders of the Purple Sage by Zane Grey. This man is a fantastic story
teller. He’ll take you to the frontier lands of America. I promise that you’ll
see and smell the rolling plains of Wyoming more clearly than if you were in
the Plaza cinema down the street. You’ll ride with cowboys, you’ll hear the
neighing not of ponies but of palominos. You’ll meet deadly gunmen, boys, noble
Red Indians. And on the headstones in Boothill, boys, you won’t find any Celtic
designs.
And there, in the vastness of the library,
The Master’s youthful tenor voice startled the silence; Take me back to the Black Hills/ The Black Hills of Dakota/ To the
beautiful Indian country that I love.
By the time he was finished he was
besieged by a posse of outstretched hands and beseeching cries of SirSirSir.
Every one of us was demented to get our paws on that book, any book.

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Spring 2018…….at last!



Listowel Librarians Remembered, Stokers’ Lawn and Liam Miller R.I.P.

A Magpie


Photo: Graham Davies

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The MacSweeney family, Librarians


A while back we were talking about Listowel library.  I received an email from Billy MacSweeney outlining his families long association with the library;

“Vincent is correct about the Carnegie Library. The original Carnegie
Library in Listowel was where Mick (“Four Goals”) Barrett has his Tyre
Centre on Bridge Road. In my youth it was a shell. I was told that my
Grandmother Annie (nee Carmody) Gleeson was the first Librarian,
followed for a short time by her daughter Jo and then by my mother
Maisie (nee Gleeson) McSweeney, each of whom did some training in
Trinity College. The Library burned down but I have no further
information. The next Carnegie Library at the top of Church St was built
sometime before 1940. My mother was the Librarian there until she
retired;  each of my brothers and sisters acted as unofficial librarians
in their turn as we grew up. It was a great education for us.”


Dave O’Sullivan said he’d look up a few things in the newspapers. Here are a few library related cuttings he found.




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Stokers Lawn, off John B. Keane Road, Listowel,


Winter  2018



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R.I.P. Liam Miller

Photo; Féach News on Twitter

Cork footballer, Liam Miller who passed away at the weekend at the age of 36, had played for Ireland, Cork, Celtic and Manchester United.

“Golden lads and girls all must

As chimney sweepers come to dust.”

Sad beyond words.

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A Few Corrections



Here are a few corrections to the list of Listowel people who went to Leinster House as the guests of Dan Moloney, T.D. after their victory in Athlone in 1959.

Front Row From Left:

Jeffrey O’Connnor (Cahirciveen,  Sheila Keane’s Husband)

Brendan Carroll   (William St)

Margaret Dillon     (She played Sive)

John B. Keane        

Cecile Cotter  (‘Tasty Cotter’s’ daughter– Scully’s Corner used to be called Cotter’s Corner)

Nora Relihan

Dan Moloney T.D., (grandfather of Jimmy Moloney)

Second Row Left to Right

John Cahill,  (Main St.,)

Hilary Neilsen, (Bridge Road)

Siobhan Cahill (Main St.)

Bill Kearney  (Lr. William St. – where The Shebeen is now)

Harry Geraghty  (Bank of Ireland or maybe National Bank?)

Eamon Keane 

Mrs. Peggie Walsh  ( The Square)

Back Row, Left to Right

John Flaherty  (Charles St)

Margaret Moloney (Gurtinard)

Kevin O’Donovan (Upper William St)

Seamus Ryle  (Nora Relihan’s brother)

Ina Leahy  (Leahys, Market St)

Dr. Johnny Walsh

Peg Schuster  (John B’s sister)


The Library, Ancestors and descendants, a Dan Keane limerick or two and lifting the North Kerry Railway Line

The Best Free Entertainment in Town

This is the Listowel branch of Kerry County Library. Membership is free for everyone. There are books on every topic, magazines, newspapers and computers to keep you busy for hours. It is one of the most valuable resources we have in town. If you’re not already a member, drop in and join. It’s free.

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Another Loss to Church St.


This business has moved on from here.

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Seeking Lacey or Hickey Relatives

Every now and again people contact me who are searching for their Listowel ancestors. I am not the right woman for this job at all. Kay Caball of My Kerry Ancestors is the expert in this area.

Kay’s latest blog post about common surnames in North Kerry is worthwhile reading for every family historian.

“Popular
surnames in Kerry can be the cause of a lot of head scratching when searching
for Kerry Ancestors.   O’Sullivan, O’Connor, O’Connell, O’Donoghue,
Fitzgerald, Stack, McElligott, Murphy, Walsh families are thick on the ground
and when these surnames are combined with the traditional naming patterns of
sons and daughters, identification of YOUR family can be a bit fraught.


Have I any hints to help you identify the correct family?  I have been
giving this some thought lately. I have been researching the family of William
Walsh who was living in Janesville, Wisconsin in 1860[1].
 His descendant Molly had done sterling work going through U.S. records
and found a William Walsh living in New York in 1855[2]. 
This Census stated that William was aged 30, Head of the Household, lived with
his wife Honora (20), his son Michael (0) and his mother Joanna (54) Widow,
 and his brother John (17).  While we would have to discount all
these ages as only approximate (with the exception of Michael, born in N.Y), we
have really good stuff here – William’s mothers’ name and a brother’s
name.  And most importantly, William’s first son is called ‘Michael’, from
which we can almost certainly take it that William’s father’s name was also
Michael.  See
Kerry
traditional naming practices.
 All are ‘Born in Ireland’ with
the exception of Michael
….”


You can read the rest of this very interesting tale HERE

My quest today is not for ancestors but for descendants or other living relatives.

The request comes from a lady called Tracey Beckley who lives in the Isle of Wight.

Our first person of interest is Henry Lacey from Listowel who married Honora Hickey sometime in the 1920s. Honora died in 1932 leaving Henry with 6 children to raise. The youngest of the family was Mary, Tracey’s mother. Mary was adopted at age 4months and she never met any of her siblings nor did she know what happened to any of them. Henry emigrated to Coventry in England at some point. We know this because Tracey has got his death cert and this is given as his address.

Tracey is anxious to make contact with anyone who might remember this family or know anything about them or where they went. She sent me 2 photos, one of Henry Lacey and another of Edward Lacey, one of his sons.

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A Limerick or 2 from The Master ; Dan Keane R.I.P.

An illiterate poor fellow in Cahir

In his whole life had only one prayer

When he went on his knees

It was certain to please

“Dear God, I am here and you’re there.”

…………..

A lady whose name is Eileen

Her house it is spotlessly clean

Some years ago

She wed Billy Joe

And their family grew up in Trien.

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The End of the Line


Warren Buckley took this photo  1988 as the tracks were being lifted from this stretch of line which is now the John B. Keane Road.

Warren writes,  “My recollection is that it I took the photo near where ALDI is now. The vertical line left of the gate house is the mast that the ESB had in the field opposite Cherrytree Drive.”

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