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

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Athea Mural Relocation

Market Street on Saturday, February 1 2025

From the Archives

Every now and again Jer Kennelly delves into the nespaper archives and finds something with a Listowel connection. Sometimes the story ends there and sometimes the story (remember John J. Foley and Thade Kelly’s Hin?) takes on a life of its own.

Here is such a cutting from 1895 for you.

San Francisco Call, Volume 77, Number 133, 22 April 1895

PARISH PRIESTS NAMED

Father Kirby Assumes Charge of the New St. Agnes Church.

SUPERIOR OF THE PAULISTS. Father Wyman Appointed to Succeed Father Brady of St. Mary’s. Rev. Father Kirby has been appointed pastor of
the new parish of St. Agnes by the Most Rev. Archbishop Riordan, and
Rev. Father Wyman has been named superior of the Paulist community at
old St. Mary’s Church on California street to succeed the late Father
Brady. Father Kirby preached his first sermon at St. Agnes Church,
which is a neat little edifice on Masonic street, near Page, at the
high mass yesterday morning. The church was built as an outside
mission to the Sacred Heart parish, and was under the jurisdiction of
Rev. Father Flood. Father Kirby is a young man of zeal and talent. He
was born at Listowel, County Kerry, Ireland, on April 16, 1860. His
early education was gained at Mount Melleray and at All Hallows. Later
he attended the seminary of St. Sulpice in Paris. On the 17th of
March, 1883, he was ordained by Bishop Higgins of Kerry, Ireland. He
“came to San Francisco in the spring of 1883. His first appointment
was as chaplain of St. Mary’s College, from where he was transferred
to Father King’s church in Oakland. Later he served two years as
assistant to Father Serda at Temescal. On September 2, 1885, he was
appointed as assistant at the cathedral, where he has since resided.
Of his family a brother is a priest, Rev. Thomas Kirby, at Mission
Dolores, and two Sisters are members of the Presentation Order, Sister
Augustine in Berkeley, and Sister de Sales in the Powell-street
convent, this city. Father Wyman has long been a Paulist missionary
and is well known throughout the United States. He prefers missionary
work to the cares and responsibility of a pariah and looks forward to
the appointment of a permanent superior to succeed him that he may go
into the country and preach. “We have received requests for
missionaries from different parishes all over the coast,” he said
yesterday, “and we are anxious to comply. Missionary work is the
object of the order, and for myself I much prefer that field. If we
had the priests we could send them north to Washington and south to
Arizona. Besides, California and Nevada must be looked after.” The
work of remodelling old St. Mary’s Church will begin this week. The
interior is to be handsomely painted and frescoed, and the idea of the
Paulists is to make the historic tabernacle one of the most beautiful
in the city.

An Interesting old Post Box

in West London

Another Photo from Carmel Hanrahan

Left to right: Tom and Eileen O’Halloran, John and Breda Hanrahan and Joe Mc Namara & Betty. 

I took this picture late last year.

This is just a small section of the artwork but it gives you an idea of the complex detail of flora and fauna, legend and history woven into this masterpiece.

The mural was given a temporary home on a long wall until the nearby premises was sold. This has now happened and the new owners have plans for the space so the masterpiece so dear to everyone in Athea must be relocated.

Athea Tidy Town Group undertook the task of dismantling it and minding it.

Here are some of the pictures they shared on Facebook.

A Fact

In Germany about 2000 schools were closed between 1989 and 2009 because of the fall in the numbers of children in the population.

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A Horsefair, A Postbox and Famine Sculptures

First Horsefair of the Year; January 2025

A Post Box Story

I found this story in a Facebook Group dedicated to old wrought iron gates. It was contributed by Michael Dempsey

Post box at Jamestown Cross Laois. When the key was lost the door was broken open in several pieces. While I was thatching the Cottage beside the box 2003, Ned Boland from the Pub across the road asked me if I could do anything with the box as it looked unsightly. We found 6 or 7 pieces of the cast iron which I brought home and welded. There was no key so I dismantled the lock and made a key. There was layers of red and green paint going back to V R which I stripped and repainted, it  will need another coat shortly.

A Poignant Tribute To people who Keep on Keeping On

New Kid on the Block

Tattoo Shop in Galvins of William Street

Native Americans and Us

In 1847 the Choctaw people sent money to Ireland when they learned that Irish people were starving due to the famine. The Choctaw themselves were living in hardship and poverty, having recently endured the Trail of Tears.

Kindred Spirits is a large stainless steel outdoor sculpture in Bailick Park in Midleton, County Cork. The shape of the feathers is intended to represent a bowl of food.

from Brendan ONeill  August 2024

A life-size bronze sculpture entitled ‘The Gift’ has been unveiled outside the National Famine Museum at Strokestown Park. It commemorates the generous aid provided by the Choctaw Nation to Ireland during the height of the Great Irish Famine.

“Esteemed American sculptor Brendan O’Neill, based in Maryland in the USA, sculpted and donated ‘The Gift’ to the museum. It is a replica of his original piece displayed at the Choctaw Cultural Centre in Oklahoma and is now permanently installed in the courtyard adjacent to the National Famine Museum.

Measuring 29 inches tall and 41 inches wide, this poignant artwork depicts an elderly Choctaw woman and a younger Choctaw man embracing in a gesture of support and protection. They extend a hand of friendship to the Irish people as the woman holds an “ampo,” or eating bowl, symbolising sustenance and nourishment.”

Irish Heritage Trust

A Fact

The number of days of racing at Listowel Harvest Festival of Racing has increased from 2 in 1858 to 7 in recent years.

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Kildare Farm Foods

Photo; Mick O’Callaghan

On College Road, Cork

This super sized pillar post box is on a corner of College Road.

It’s been around since the era of George V (1910-1936)

It’s still in daily use, though probably not so busy any more

Near the postbox was this graffitied utility box. The postbox is from the era of Pablo Picasso and Elizabeth Bishop. Today’s artist is Lankum.

Kildare Farm Foods

Our little Aoife has just turned three. We had a great day on her birthday.

We visited Kildare Farm Foods. This is an open farm, a restaurant and a food shop.

Popular summer activity here

This artefact is a reminder of olden times.

Some of Aoife’s Kildare family, Sinead, Mary and Conor were also with us feeding the animals and enjoying the experience.

Clíona encouraged this goat’s disobedience by feeding him through the fence. There is a very clever chute system for delivering the food into a tray. This smart fellow preferred the modh díreach.

A baby alpaca

We learned a bit about maras. There are also camels, sheep, lots of farmyard fowl, a playground and indoor arcade and a crazy golf course in this marvellous facility. They also have a service where you can buy a teddybear and have a little device with a recoding of your own voice message implanted in him.

Can You Help?

I am looking for some info on my husband’s grandfather, John Fitamaurice (1888-1948).  He was born in Kerry, Ireland and enlisted in the 2nd RMF on 12 Aug 1914 , service # 4608.  We know he was wounded and served in France as he received the SilverWar Badge and 1914 Star.  He also received the Army War Badge and Victory Medal.  He was permanently disabled and lived the rest of his life in the Soldier’s Cottages, Listowel, Kerry, Ireland.
I cannot find where he was injured or hospitalized.  I’d appreciate any help or guidance in finding out this information.

A Fact

In 1568 the Catholic church condemned the entire population of The Netherlands to death for heresy.

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A Runner, a Baker and a Poem

Lower William Street in February 2024

Jerry Kiernan to be Honoured

Image and text from Tralee Marathon on Facebook

This year’s Tralee 10K (14th Sept) will honour the great Jerry Kiernan, every participant will receive a commemorative Jerry Kiernan medal. Jerry was born in Listowel. At the 1984 LA Olympics Jerry finished 9th in the Marathon he also won the Dublin Marathon in 1982 and 1992.

A Family Milestone

I have no sister and only one sister-in-law, so Breeda is an important part of the Ahern Cogan family. Here are the Cogan cousins at Breeda’s big birthday recently.

Me and my children on our night out

A Poem to Ponder

If you didn’t get the roses, the chocolates, the champagne or even a card yesterday, listen to this from U A Fanthorpe.

Atlas

There is a kind of love called maintenance
Which stores the WD40 and knows when to use it;

Which checks the insurance, and doesn’t forget
The milkman; which remembers to plant bulbs;

Which answers letters; which knows the way
The money goes; which deals with dentists

And Road Fund Tax and meeting trains,
And postcards to the lonely; which upholds

The permanently rickety elaborate
Structures of living, which is Atlas.

And maintenance is the sensible side of love,
Which knows what time and weather are doing
To my brickwork; insulates my faulty wiring;
Laughs at my dryrotten jokes; remembers
My need for gloss and grouting; which keeps
My suspect edifice upright in air,
As Atlas did the sky.

Dating a Postbox

I photographed this postbox in Ballincollig and my Ballincollig based daughter found the era of this particular logo on the An Post website

A Fact

Last month’s statistics to assure you that you are in good company

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In Kildare Village

Dandy Lodge in Winter 2023

Pres. Day in Pres. Listowel

November 21 was always a big deal when I worked in a Presentation school. It was lovely to see Srs. Consolata, Theresa and Eilish back in the school for Pres. Day 2023.

I took the photos from the school’s facebook page.

Kildare Village is No Place for a Two Year Old

The two year old hates wearing coats so the first struggle started before we left the house. When your Nana loves taking photos you just have to wear your beautiful red Christmassy coat.

Second hiccup; We were too early. Gates closed.

Nothing for it but to repair to the nearby coffee shop. Soother had to be unearthed to persuade her to leave the coat on.

To persuade her to relinquish the soother a smoothie is promised.

A piece of tea cake!

Some kind of unhealthy snack is next. The coat is still on but by now the hair bobble has been pulled out and lost.

Next bribe ( inducement) is a story.

Finally, it’s time to return to the shopping village. Coat is still on but by now it’s raining. Photoshoot back on track…kinda!

I’ll leave the story of how it all went pear shaped ’til tomorrow.

In Portlaoise Train Station

Victorian, I think

+ R.I.P. Sr. Helen Hartnett+

Every now and again I have felt that I was in the presence of a saint. If Sr. Helen is not a saint in heaven at the right hand of God, there is no hope for the rest of us.

Sr. Helen’s Listowel connection is strong even though she never lived here for long. Helen’s family moved to Listowel after she had already entered the convent.

Sr. Helen who passed away on December 2 2023 was a Salesian sister who spent her working life in South Africa, living and ministering among the poorest of the poor.

Sr. Helen “never missed an opportunity to do good.” She believed that every child deserved at least two good meals a day and she believed that education was the way to improve the lives of the children she worked with in the squatter camps.

Sr. Helen was frail in stature but she had the heart of a lion. She lived in a very politically turbulent environment in Johannesburg. She lived surrounded by staff and pupils who were constantly being indoctrinated by political activists to believe that she had no place in the school her order had built, and to which she had given her life.

The most frightening day of her life was the day she arrived to school to be met with open revolt. Teachers, parents and pupils met her chanting, “You are stealing our school and our money.” Terrified, she had to barricade herself in her office until eventually the police, through the intervention of a local supporter, allowed her to go free.

Badly shaken and, of course, hugely disappointed by her experience she, nevertheless went on to move to Capetown to revive a school building project post Covid. She was working on this in conjunction with Irish workers when she fell ill with cancer.

Helen’s family and her religious community looked after her well until God called her home.

So, if you were reading the death notices in R.I.P. ie and you saw someone you never heard of before, here is who this humble holy walking saint was.

Sr. Helen’s Listowel family, her brother Dan, sister Carmel, cousin Eddie Moylan and their families are very proud of her and the work she did. They will miss her gentle presence but are happy in the knowledge that she lived a good life of service to the most disadvantaged of God’s children. She was well prepared for death and accepted whatever God had planned for her.

R.I.P. Sr. Helen. “The day thou gavest Lord has ended.”

Another old card

I don’t think this one is an O’Connor one. Symbols are Ballyduff landmarks and the tone is very republican, The Irish greeting reads Nollaig maith suairc duit, roughly I pray/ wish a good merry Christmas to you.

Christmas Long ago in Ballyferriter

Christmas in Boulteens Ballyferriter by Maurice Brick (Facebook 2015)

MEMORIES OF CHRISTMAS IN GORTA DUBHA.  

                            There was a touch of frost, enough to stiffen the grass but it limbered with the noonday sun. The grown ups were in good humor and we were very sensitive to that. The farm work was done and only the cows needed tending. There was an easiness. 

A great day was when Mam and Dad went to Dingle to bring home the Christmas. Dad had rails on the cart. We were bursting with excitement upon hearing the cart coming with its iron band wheels which could be heard for miles. They had a sack of flour, a sack of yellow meal, various foods, wellingtons, some clothes, decorations and most important, sweets and biscuits and icing clad Christmas Cakes. They also had several bottles of Sandiman Port which were presents from Dingle merchants in appreciation of their custom through the year. 

Searching for discarded jam jars which we would wash and fill with sand to hold the candle we put in each window of the house. Holding the ladder for Dad as he retrieved some ivy from the gable end of the house. Going to the Reen, a field on our land that was reputedly a Fairy Fortress and had some scattered Holly Bushes. The house would be spotless and there was a silent buzz as we went about our chores. The turf fire was blazing and added to the glow. 

On Christmas Eve for dinner we had Langa (Ling), a long stringy fish that had hung for weeks from the ceiling. It was salty and boney but Mam’s white sauce with onions, pandy (potatoes mashed with generous helping of butter) and spices made it palatable. After, there was lashings of Christmas Cake with inch thick icing and we made short work of that. 

Going to Midnight Mass to St. Vincent’s in Boulteen was a treat. We went up the Tóchar a Bohereen and pathway through the fields. Dad had a lantern and led the way. At one point we climbed a few steps to climb over a claí (an earthen stone fence that separated fields) and on top you could see all the houses in the Parish with candles in the windows and it was like a glimpse of Tír Na nÓg (Land Of Youth) if such a place ever existed. 

The Church was small and comfortable. It was full and the smell of molten wax permeated the air. And there was a quietness. My Dad sang in the Choir and his cousin Paddy Brick, Riasc played the violin. It was magical listening to them, performing for us a hauntingly soft rendition of Oíche Chiuin (Silent Night) in honor of the Birth of the Baby Jesus. I remember now, I will never forget, Dad singing his heart out & Paddy Brick his cousin on the violin, watching one another with sideway glances making sure each of them was putting out the best. 

After Mass all the people greeted one another and offered Christmas Blessings. All was done in hushed and calming voices and that has stayed with me down through the years. My friend Pad accompanied us once going home by the Tóchar and he was given to speeching all the way. When we passed by the Cemetery he proceeded to name everyone who died in Gorta Dubha for the past fifty years. I shifted closer to Mam and Dad for the rest of the journey. 

At home, we put up our stockings for Santí and reluctantly went to bed. Dad went to the haggard and pulled a gabháll (bunch) of hay which he spread at the front door to feed the Donkey that was bringing the Holy Family for a visit to our house on Christmas Night. 

After a fitful night’s sleep we arose with excitement and checked our Santí stockings. We compared what we got and though at times it wasn’t much we were happy. Off we went running to every house in the the village. We’d get a piece of sweet cake or a bun and sometimes, even a sip of lemonade. We joined the other children and traipsed about joyfully in and out of the houses. It was Gorta Dubha and all the houses were ours. NOLLAIG SHONA……..HAPPY CHRISTMAS.

A Fact

Cheetahs can change direction in mid air while chasing prey.

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