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: Pat Ahern Page 2 of 3

Food Fair This Weekend

Pat Ahern and Enzo in Ennis

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New Hair Stylist on Church Street

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Listowel Pitch and Putt

I happened to walk by the clubhouse on Sunday last and I enquired what sort of competition was in progress. It was a three club invitational. The day was sunny and warm and the course was in tip top condition as usual.

These friendly gentlemen were minding the house. I asked them is they had a photo of the founding fathers. The club is 50 this year and I have so much respect for those early pioneers who gave us this beautiful amenity, that I’d love to post a picture of them.

They told me that a photo collage is in the making to mark the 50th. All the photographs are with Billy Moloney who is looking after this project. I look forward to seeing the finished picture.

I subsequently met Billy and he says that there is non picture among the ones he has of the men who set up the club. So if you have such a picture, will you give it into the clubhouse or to Billy, These men deserve recognition in this the 50th anniversary year.

Billy told me that the delay with the collage is the difficulty in getting a frame big enough, but he’s on it.

Watch this space!

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St. Michael’s Class of 1972 Reunion

When these men got together to reminisce, much of the talk centred around football, a big part of their St. Mick’s days. (Essay on the way from David Kissane)

Christy Walsh and Jason Foley got together to crown their night with a visit from Sam Maguire.

Jim Fitzmaurice sent us Gerard Hussey’s great essay capturing life in St. Michael’s in the early days of “free education”.

         “Donagh O’Malley’s Boys”     by Gerard Hussey

They came in those first yellow school buses in 1967 from Listowel’s hinterland, from Dromerin, Clounmacon, Lisselton , Bunagara and Bunglaise in Duagh, and mixed with the Borough Boys of the Town.

Donagh O’Malley’s inspired free education policy spawned a rake of the newly educated that met again on Sat. Sept 17th after fifty years (fifty five if you count the lost years!). Those fellas from the country taught us townies a thing or three.

Their compositions stood out, descriptions of the bog went deeper than a sleán. They knew a thing or two about sciortáns and ciaráns  – “lá breá brothallach” how are you?

And they could field a ball for you  – Paddy Quilter and Tim Kennelly, the Horse with his trademark drive out from the square and a drop-kick from the lawn end that went into Captain Shanahan’s yard. That’s two  hundred yards, by the way, and speaking of which – wasn’t Eamonn Carroll (RIP) the champion sprinter in our day. I once teamed up with him and Conor Heaphy in a relay ….. a few Pilates are all I can manage now!  I still pine for a two-hundred yarder with a Callaway driver!

I remember Old John ‘volunteering’ me one Friday for a week-end cross-country event and coming along to Neilius Brosnan only to be told…  “No thanks, Sir”. Courage a plenty, Neilius – fair dues. Sure it was no pleasure to be lapped by Gerry Kiernan or Dave Kissane and John Hartnett .

Despite the regime, we learned a lot to prepare us for life during our five years. Sure, didn’t Rocky’s “Sets” stand to us …… back in the Gaeltacht and Ballai Luimnigh! And Greek and Roman history ….useful  when perusing Budget Travel brochures! And, Miss Murphy telling us that a triangle was the finest form in the natural world, and I, innocently thinking it was 36-26-36 !

Funny incidents, mixed with humiliations , were the order of the day for many of us. One day Danny Kelliher, a Butcher’s Lad was driving sheep down Cahirdown ….. and they darted into St. Michael’s. Mad for  classical learning – no doubt. “Ye can’t goin thare”, roared Danny, so we helped unround the sheep – which gave us fifteen minutes of distraction from the regime.

We all recall the unhelpful refrain…. “ and what colour chalk shall we use?” when someone lost their way trying to solve a difficult Maths problem. Humiliation was too quick to follow any mistake. 

 The heart of the matter was captured by  Tim Danaher, who once offered up “Hard Times” to Fr. Danny when he inquired what we were reading outside of school books.  I think our knowing laughter was not lost on him either! Hard times indeed,  but it formed us into a bunch of fellas that would stick together and  you’d be happy to meet again. 

We were imbued with a sense of justice and fair play from our experiences.  Neilius reminded us of a week’s strike that we took once to make our  point about a grave injustice to one of our own – a good sign of fellowship.

Donagh’s Boys went on to make a worthy contribution to Irish life, in Education, Construction, Business, Agriculture and Miscellaneous  Professions. It is worth noting that our year of 72 produced 10 teachers.  The basic education was no burden – I gained my own further education during 3rd Arts in UCG, when I shared room with Padraic Breathnach!

It’s the fine fellas that you meet along the way that lighten the world’s load – I can count those I met at Christy’s on our 50th Re-Union as fine a cross-section as you’d like to meet  ….. a fine “Set” indeed. Thanks Rocky! 

Footnote : A few little anecdotes of our times at St. Michael’s

WE learned hand-stands at P.E. ……. we held each other up  …….. time to do it again  surely, Lads!

My first concussion ….. it wasn’t the Horse giving me a mighty shoulder  ….. t’was the  bringing down the full weight of a hard-back anthology  on my noggin…..”Alliteration, young Hussey is things sounding alike”, oblivious to the effects of the  bounce of the book on my head!

Junior  was putting up a rough chalk map of Ireland and throwing in mountains that were fish bones, for some odd reason. “The Comeraghs”, I offered as he pointed towards Tipperary. “You’re too small Hussey to be moving mountains!”  says he. The Galtees me boy.

Fr. Danny coming around once a month to collect for his propagation of the faith and checking for long hair and the trade-mark yellow-stained cigarette fingers – Frank got caught on both counts. Down to Quigleys for the hair, with Danny paying the bill, while Frank rubbed his fingers at the front school pillars to remove the yellow stains.  Maggie Stack had his measure though by putting the haircut money in his pocket and never returning. I hear he still has a fine head of hair!

Free spirits, we had a few,  and our reunion noted the missing souls: John Scully, Tim Kennelly, Vincent Donegan, Eamonn Carroll, Tim Danaher. Rest easy boys!

Our final leavetaking  had   Fr. Danny giving us  the profound declaration  “Ye’re going out into the world as rare birds with ye’re classical training”   ….. while Brendan Keane whispered “extinct birds  more likely”.                  Wit, the great leveller !

“ All life was there”, John B said of McKenna’s corner …… well, so too it was at Christy’s – a well-rounded crew and not a chip in sight,…. except those paired with the goujons!

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Some Halloween Windows

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Listowel Food Fair

Here’s the link;

Listowel Food Fair 2022

Something old, Something New

The Square, Listowel in August 2022

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Brother and Horses

In Bettyville, Kanturk

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Weight Gain

Here is a laugh for today’s young people. Once upon a time, not a hundred years ago for I remember it well, you had to pay to weigh yourself. Scales like these stood in the pharmacy and you put a penny in the slot to operate the weighing scales.

People didn’t have bathroom scales. Many people didn’t have bathrooms. These scales offered a public service. This one appeared recently in a post in my Kanturk Memories group. It stood not in a pharmacy but in a diner style café. The owners , the O’Sullivan family, had returned from the USA and had brought all kinds of new ideas to Kanturk. Their café had banquette seating in booths just like in the movies, it had a juke box and this weighing scales.

When we went to the city; Cork, we loved to weigh ourselves in Woolworths because their scales gave you a little card with your weight on it. Would we want it now?

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Time Flies

These two young men walking with their Nana in Gurtinard last weekend are the same two boys I snapped on Church Street on a visit to Nana in another lifetime. They are Killian and Sean Cogan from Cork. I am the Nana.

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It was Roses, Roses all the way

Our girl is off on her tour around the country and by all accounts, she is wowing them wherever she goes.

I put my money where my mouth is but by the time I got there Edaein was already installed as the favourite. 😍 🤩 🥳

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Revival, the Reunion

It used to be the Races, now it’s Revival. One visitor described Friday evening at Revival as 1000 people in a carpark standing and chatting with old friends and 500 people upfront attending a concert.

Among the former were Seán, Valeria, Richard and Elaine.

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It’s still Heritage Week 2022

You’ve got two more chances to see Bliain dar Saol in Kerry Writers Museum. It’s on today, Tuesday Aug. 16 2022 and Wednesday Aug. 17 2022. Both showings are at 2.30 pm.

I snapped these two local heroes yesterday August 15 2022 on their way to mass.

John Lynch has preserved lots and lots of Listowel memories on film. He made Bliain dar Saol in collaboration with John Pierse. It records a year in Listowel fifty years ago.

Pat Walsh served us well in McKenna’s for years. He was also one of the men who worked so hard to keep the Pitch and Putt course in perfect condition.

Men like these are the salt of the earth.

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Music in Ballybunion and a few family photos

Gurtinard Wood, April 2019

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Music in a Ballybunion Cave on Easter Saturday 2019


The weather was glorious. The beach was thronged. The town was alive with runners and walkers taking part in the annual run.

There was a mild sandstorm blowing on the beach.

And there in a cave a group of musicians and singers were entertaining a good crowd of delighted and surprised onlookers.

A section of the audience

Singers and musicians

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Black and Tan recruiting poster


Bernard O’Connell found this one.

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Family



Easter is a time for family


When you really really want to go to Funderland but there is a minimum height restriction on some of the rides…..

Unfortunately she didn’t measure up but there were lots of rides for smallies too.


My brother Pat with his latest pride and joy

My Trip Home, a Funeral, A Hunt and Kitchener is remembered by a “school chum”

Holly at the Bridge








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Adventures on Returning Home in November 2016


Recently I went back to my roots for the sad occasion of the funeral of my Aunty Nun, Sr. Perpetua Hickey of The Convent of Mercy, Charleville, Co. Cork.  She wasn’t really my aunt at all. Her sister was married to my uncle, but all my life she was known to me as she was to all her nieces and nephews as Aunty Nun.

The Mercy sisters in Charleville are lucky in that they still live in their convent in the centre of town. Unlike so many sisters nowadays, they live in familiar surroundings among people they have lived with all their adult lives.

The wake in the convent chapel was like taking a step back in time.

The coffin of Sr. Perpetua was shouldered by relatives and friends the short distance from the convent that was her home to the nearby parish church.

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Never a Dull Moment


I love to go home to Kanturk. My old home is a warm welcoming place always full of bustle, friends, family and incident.

One incident from this visit will not be forgotten in a hurry.

I was stung by a Kanturk wasp  on November 26 2016!!!!!

On a more pleasant note I got to see Duhallow Hunt gather for their meet in Kanturk and on Day 2 of my visit I got to see the farrier at work on EPA’s new acquisition who is called after Conor Murray. In case you are new to my blog, the Aherns naming convention sees all their horses named after rugby players.

That is my brother in his element, among fellow horse lovers.

These beautiful hounds waited patiently some distance away as the hunt got mounted and ready.

Their handlers know every one of these hounds by name .

They only leave their waiting spot when instructed to do so.

Here they are, heading out on the Greenfield Rd. ahead of the hunt.

It was a perfect day for riding out, cold, crisp and dry.

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The Farrier


The forge is a thing of the past. The farrier or blacksmith now comes to you. Luckily, while I was still at home, C.J. called to shoe Conor. The horse behaved impeccably for his first experience with the farrier. 

“Thank you, Pat”

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Kitchener… a friend’s account of him from the archives



Northern Star (Lismore, NSW ):



Wed. 5th July 1916







KITCHENER AS A BOY.



AT SCHOOL IN; CO. KERRY.



A CHUM’S RECOLLECTIONS.



Mr. Michael Byrnes, who is now on a visit to Manly, was a schoolmate

of Kitchener’s



” It- is over 55 years ago,” says ‘Mr. Byrnes, since Lord Kitchener

went to the old National School at Kilflinn, Sweet County Kerry, which

I attended. It was half-way between Listowel and Tralee, and his

father, .(Colonel Kitchener), had a farm called Crotta Domain. My

recollections of the boy Kitchener are very distinct, although it is

so many yours ago. We were neighbours and playmates together, and

always ‘the best of chums. We were just about the same age, both

under 10 years, and we were both literature lovers and rambled about

the beautiful countryside in each other’s company. Although there

was nothing very remarkable about the boy in the way of cleverness

at school, yet I’vealways vividly remembered him through the long

years. No doubt he had a personality; He was a very strange boy in

many ways, very reserved, and studious. 



He preferred being by himself very often, not that he was stuck up in

any shape or form, and although not many of his schoolmates shared his

confidences, he was liked and respected by the. whole of them, and

enjoyed a popularity which was strange considering his studious moods

and attitude of aloofness. He never cared for footall or hurling, but

was passionately fond of horses. He was always happy on horseback, and

loved to follow the hounds. The sight of the huntsmen and the, dogs

and the sound of the horn, always woke him out of his usual

seriousness, and he used to get very excited and enthusiastic when the

meets were on.



At school he was not by any means a dull boy,  I said before, he

didn’t, to our minds at least, show any signs of cleverness. The

masters, however, thought a lot of him, and he always managed to get

through his lessons without difficulty.



Every summer we boys used to spend a month at a Strand, a little

watering place on the sea.Young Kitchener always came with us?  we

all stayed with uncles and aunts of mine. With all of my family he was

a great favourite and the womenfolk particularly were fond of the 

gentlemanly, quiet lad. Strange to say, he had  a dread of deep water

a big wave would always drive him back to shore, and he would never go

in any depth. The remarkable thing was that he was utterly fearless

in every other direction. Looking back on his extraordinarily boyish

fear of the deep sea, it appears uncannily, pathetic now that he has

found a lonely grave in the depths of the ocean.



There are some stories of the late Lord Kitchener that convey the

idea that he was official and unapproachable, but my experience of him

to me, on that memorable morning of his visit to Sydney,’ showed that

he was possessed of indeed very human qualities. 

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What I’m Reading


Best :Loved Poems; This is an absolutely lovely book and perfect for a present for a lover of literature and pictures and perfect for a lover of Kerry.

The poems are introduced and curated by Gabriel Fitzmaurice and the photographs are by John Reidy,

The collection includes one of my favourite poems; 

Though there are Torturers by Michael Coady

Though there are torturers,

 There are also musicians

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Though the image of God

 is everywhere defiled,

A man in West Clare,

Is playing the concertina

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HOYS, Mumming and broadband in Ballyduff

Gurtinard Wood; Early Autumn Morning

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HOYS



The Horse of the Year Show is called Hoys by everyone in the know. It is the pinnacle of achievement for a show horse. I was there last week at the NEC in Birmingham to watch the lovely Sonny Bill make his debut in the big arena, under lights.

These are the old owners: my brother Pat and his daughter Elizabeth with the new owner, Jane Collins. Jane is an MEP but she took annual leave to watch her new Irish hunter perform.

This is the big moment when Sonny Bill made his entrance into the big time. It’s a long way now from hunting with The Duhallows in fields around Kanturk and Kilbrin.

Jane and her daughter, Rebecca had organised VIP seats for the visitors.

There were 22 horses in his class and the judges placed Sonny Bill 8th. This was a very satisfactory outcome for his first time in the big time. I’ll let you in on a secret. Sonny was wearing hair extensions in his tail. It’s all about appearance in showing….a kind of beauty pageant for horses.

Elizabeth was delighted with her rosette from HOYS. Sonny is still showing in her name even though he is no longer hers.

Pat and Elizabeth with Sonny Bill’s new English friends.

Sue Walker and her husband Nigel run the yard where Sonny is liveried. Here Elizabeth is showing them the horse she intends buying next.  They approved.

Hoys is a huge show with 250 retail stands. Unfortunately most of these were equine. There were some really entertaining shows in the arena. One of these was the Clydesdales.

This man was selling  a Mojo. He had them for horses and humans and they are meant to cure all aches and pains. A few of our party fell for his patter. If there is a huge improvement in horse or man I’ll let you know.

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Listowel Square with St. John’s



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Have you ever Heard of Mumming?


At the moment I am continuing my research on Jimmy Hickey’s life in dancing. One of the unusual things that came up was mumming. Jimmy Hickey and his dancers attended the Welsh Eisteddfod on several occasions. The only other representatives of Irish traditions was a group of Wexford mummers.

This is Sheila O’Connell’s photo of the Wexford boys. Sheila was one of Jimmy Hickey’s Sliabh Luachra dancers.

Mumming is an ancient Irish folk dance. The dancers hold sticks in their hands and clash the sticks as they perform the figures of the dance. The tradition is a bit like our wren boys and was often performed at Christmas time. John Kinsella, who hails from Co. Wexford remembers his father mumming.

This is Sheila O’Connell of Ballydesmond in her traditional Irish costume chatting to one of the mummers. Sheila is wearing the traditional hat worn by the mummers. That black one was the leader’s hat. The rest of the dancers wore green and gold and their hats were a bit like a bishop’s mitre.

 The mummers were also accomplished musicians. Here they are giving an impromptu performance while cooling off in the river.

This is Mary Doyle R.I.P. cooling off as she listens to the music. She is wearing a tr.aditional Welsh bonnet which many of the Irish contingent bought as souvenirs.

This is Jimmy Hickey and the Sliabh Luachra dancers. The box player is a very young Liam O’Connor

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The March of Time


These photos are from the Ballyduff Facebook page. The first is rural electrification in the 1950s. The second photo is the laying of fibre optic broadband cable in 2016.




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