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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A Christmas Victory

Party Ongoing

Maid of Erin, December 2023

A Christmas Card

2023 was the year when a man called Stephen Rynne opened our eyes to an underrated Listowel genius whose work was presented to popes, presidents world leaders and other visiting dignitaries.

This man was Michael O’Connor, a shy self effacing illuminator who regarded his great talent as a gift from God.

He was very proud of his Listowel roots. He collaborated with another Listowel genius, Bryan MacMahon. Their most beautiful collaboration is the Listowel Races piece. They also worked together to make memorable Christmas cards.

Here is one of their cards with words in Irish and English by MacMahon and illumination by O’Connor.

My Dear Old Kerry Home

From The Butte Independent 1927 a poem by D. M. Brosnan, Castleisland

“Tis Christmas Eve in Kerry, and the Pooka is at rest
Contented in his stable eating hay;

The crystal snow is gleaming on the mountains of the West,
And a lonesome sea is sobbing far away;
But I know a star is watching o’er the bogland and the stream,
And ‘tis coming, coming, coming o’er the foam;
And ’tis twinkling o’er the prairie with a message and a dream
Of Christmas in my dear old Kerry home.

‘Tis Christmas Eve in Kerry, and the happy mermaids croon
The songs, of youth and hope that never die;
Oh never more on that dear shore for you and me, aroon.
The rapture of that olden lullaby:
But the candle lights are gleaming on a hillside far away.
And peace is in the blue December gloam;
And o’er the sea of memory I hear the pipers play
At Christmas in my dear old Kerry home.

‘Tis Christmas Eve in Kerry, oh I hear the fairies’ lyre
Anear the gates of slumber calling sweet.
Calling softly, calling ever to the land of young desire,
To the pattering of childhood’s happy feet; 

But a sleepless sea is throbbing, and the stars are watching’ true
As they journey to the wanderers who roam —
Oh the sea, the stars shall bring me tender memories of you.


D. M. BROSNAN, Close, Castleisland, Co. Kerry.

“Straight I will repair to the Curragh of Kildare”

Last week I ventured to Kildare to visit the Curragh based branch of the family. I’ll be telling you all about my trip this week. I took in a visit to the Cork branch of the family en route so I travelled by train from Kent to Kildare. Only way to go!

God bless whoever gave us oldies free travel. It’s brilliant and I found lovely obliging young lively people willing to offer help with luggage and with getting on and off the train. The gap I was asked to mind was at times was fairly sizeable.

I was early for the train so I had a wander around Kent station. I was delighted to discover this.

Wow, what an interesting piece of postbox history.

Not too far away from the postbox is this symbol of a different age.

The steam engine was all decked out for Christmas.

A Fact

I have upped my game with the facts. My friend Catherine, who loves fun facts as well, has lent me her more reliable book of weird but true facts.

First weird, true and outrageous fact;

There are more plastic flamingos in the U.S.A. than real ones.

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A Poet or Two

An Easter Window in St. Mary’s Listowel in April 2023

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Then and Now

On Church Street

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Beautiful Cherry Tree

In Listowel Pitch and Putt Course

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A Biden Story (Kind of)

From Mattie Lennon

When President Biden mentioned his great-grandfather Finnegan, the poet, it reminded me. The poet Paddy Finnegan was a friend of mine. He was from Galway and was no stranger to Listowel Writers’ Week. I don’t know if he was related to “the President’s Finnegans” and there again I don’t know that he wasn’t!

 When Paddy died in 2014 two others and myself organised a “Finnegan’s Wake with an Apostrophe”, in Dublin’s Mansion House.  President Higgins couldn’t attend but his daughter Alice Mary did. We made a DVD of the evening’s events,

I’ve a piece that I wrote about Paddy Finnegan after his death.

Paddy Finnegan passed away, unexpectedly, on 16th July.

Shortly after his death poet and writer Stephen James Smith wrote, “Paddy was a wonderful man who inspired me with his poetry and acted as a great supporter of other young poets too. . . as he speaks to me beyond the grave his verse is still unnerving me with his gravely pitted voice holding my ears. . . .Paddy you’ll always live on in my memory, you’ll always be one of the first people who made poetry sing to me, you’ll always be a writers’ writer, a warrior with words. The Fionn mac Cumhaill of verse.“

Paddy was born “between two years” either in the dying moments of 1942 or just after midnight on New-year’s day 1943 in Dereen, Kilkerrin, County Galway. Like everywhere else in rural Ireland clocks weren’t all that accurate at the time.

While a pupil at the National School in Kilkerrin a teacher convinced his father, Michael, that Paddy had academic potential. He got a Scholarship to St Jarleths College, Tuam, in 1956 and continued his formal education in UCD.

Paddy had a fantastic knowledge of the English language, was fluent in all dialects of Gaeilge and had a good grasp of Greek and Latin. His versatility was increased in the year he spent in Wolverhampton as one of “the men who built Britain”. He became an expert on how to fry steak on the head of a shovel.

He joined the Irish Civil Service in 1962 but office work wasn’t for Paddy. Apart from being on a higher mental plane than most of his colleagues he was an open-air man. During his stint there I’m sure Sigerson Clifford’s line often went around in his head, “They chained my bones to an office stool and my soul to a clock’s cold hands.“

 He worked as a bus conductor with CIE from 1971 to 1980.

When I got a job as a bus-conductor in 1974 I was sent to Donnybrook garage. I didn’t ask who was the most intelligent person in the garage but if I had the reply would have been concise, “Paddy Finnegan.” As a conductor he could reply to any criticism from an irate passenger; in several languages if necessary. During this period Paddy and a few of his fellow intellectual would assemble in a city centre flat which was known a Dáil Oíche. It was a later edition of “The catacombs” as described by Anthony Cronin in Dead as Doornails. With such a collection of intelligentsia you can imagine (or can you?) the topics under discussion. He lived for many years in Lower Beechwood Avenue, Ranelagh. If ever a house deserved a Blue Plaque it’s Paddy’s former residence.

He brought out a collection of his poetry, sadly now out of print, titled Dactyl Distillations. I know dear erudite reader that you know the meaning of dactyl but I had to look it up. It is, “a foot of poetic meter in quantitave verse.”

He was inspired by everyday events. His “Post from Parnassus” was inspired by the annual Saint Patrick’s Day commemoration of Patrick Kavanagh on the banks of the Grand Canal.

Post From Parnassus 

(after Patrick Kavanagh)

by Paddy Finnegan

Here by my seat the old ghosts meet.
Here, the place where the old menagerie
Relentlessly soldiers on
Remembering the old green dragon, me,
On the feast of the Apostle of Ireland.

Ye greeny, greying catechumens
Will cease to stage this ceremony
Only on the command of Sergeant Death.
Then break not the heart of poet past
Nor that of preening poet present:
But know, ye prodigies of prosody
That multitudes in times to be
Will listen to my lays
And look askance
While cods forever fake
Their own importance.

More recently he recorded a, limited edition, CD, Fíon Ceol agus Filíocht. I hope that somebody will now bring out an “unlimited” edition. Since 1995 he was a familiar sight selling the Big Issue outside Trinity College and more recently at Bewleys on Grafton Street.

Paddy always had a story, like the day he was chatting to his fellow poet Professor Brendan Kennelly at the gate of Trinity as dark clouds hung overhead . “ . . . I asked the Ballylongford wizard for a meteorological prognostication. He replied in the immortal words: ‘ There’’ be no rain; it’ll be as dhry, as dhry as a witches tit.’ He wasn’t gone fifteen minutes when amazingly the cloud dispersed and as our old friend Pythagoras used to say: ‘ Phoebus played a blinder for the rest of the day.” That was Paddy.

I asked his brother James if there were poets in their ancestry. He said no, that their father was a farmer but, in the words of Seamus Heaney, “By God, the old man could handle a spade.”

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Listowel Success in The Rebel County

Elaine and Seán O’Sullivan with Bobby Cogan and Carine Schweitzer.

They won the weekend table quiz in The White Horse, Ballincollig.

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An old Post Box

This post box is on the street in Tralee at the corner of Day Place. These pillar boxes date back to an earlier era when they were painted red and had the monarch’s cypher on the front.

This one is one of the ones that had an angle grinder taken to it and the cypher shorn off.

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Just a Thought

My Reflections, broadcast last week on Radio Kerry are here;

Just a Thought

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A Fact

Absolutely pure gold is so soft it can be molded with the hands. A lump of pure gold the size of matchbox can be flattened into a sheet the size of a tennis court. An ounce of gold can be stretched into a wire 50 miles long.

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Comings and Goings

Galvin’s Flats, Listowel Town Square, November 2022

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A Relic of Another Time in Ireland

This is the Royal Cypher of Edward V11. This means that this lovely old Listowel Pillar box is over 100 years old.

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We’re Sound Out

We always knew it. Now the world knows it. Listowel is Ireland’s soundest town. The gang behind the submission to Today fm celebrated the win in Mike the Pies.

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New Kids in Town

Bobby and Carine’s friends, Dulce and Sylvestre have relocated to Kerry. For Dulce it’s a return to The Kingdom, for Sylvestre it’s a first. They are settling in to their new home in Causeway.

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Then and Now

Presentation Secondary School staff, thirty years apart

1992
2022

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From the RTE Archive

A Christmas edition of Play the Game, Derek Davis, Daniel O’Donnell, John O’Connor? and Joe McCarthy

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Candles at Christmas

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Community Centre Fire

Nov 23 2022

All looks peaceful in this corner of Childers’ Park on Nov 23 2022. But in the darkness of early morning a fire broke out in the roof space of our community centre.

Fire tenders were quickly on the scene but extensive internal damage had been done.

Hasty message on the door tells its own story.

The community will rally round and I have no doubt the centre will be back in action in as short a time as possible.

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Listowel Races 2022

Day 1 of Listowel Harvest Festival of Racing 2022, Sunday September 18th

And I was there with my friend, Bridget O’Connor.

I was back on The Island on the last day, Saturday, Sept 24 2022 for Listowel Tidy Towns sustainable fashion event.

And the winner is…

Andrea Thornton is the queen of sustainable fashion. She rarely buys anything new. When her gorgeous dress was bought, it was already vintage with a slightly rusted metal zip and a few rust stains on the lace. Her headpiece came from Vincent’s in Listowel when it was called Second Time Around. She wore her shoes at a Bronte literary event in the UK.

Her fan had to be the most inventive reuse of something. It started life as a Barbie doll’s dress.

Two babies later, the dress still fits Andrea as well as it did on her 21st.

The runner up is another vintage affectionado. Amy G. loves her life, travelling around the world, selecting pieces for her pre loved business.

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When The Owner is an Artist

Traditionally everything in Listowel shuts down for Race Week. Work stops on building sites in town. This premises on Church Street was no exception but look at how they painted the boarded up window to match the colour scheme of the shopfront.

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Tralee Pillar Box from Another Era

This Tralee postbox dates from the reign of Edward VII so it was put there between 1901 and 1910. Hasn’t it weathered the years well?

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St. Michael’s 1972 Past Pupils Reunion

Back L to R.  Jim Larkin,Maurice Sheehy, Jack Flavin, Tom Stack, Brendan Keane, Eddie Flaherty, John Hartnett, Aidan Murphy, Finbarr Prendiville, Gerard Hussey, David Kissane.Front. L to R. Paddy Quilter,Gerard Neville,Jimmy Fitzmaurice, Joe Horgan,Seamus Kennelly, Neil Brosnan, Jer Riordan.

Names supplied by Jimmy Fitzmaurice.

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The Greatest Irish Athlete Ever?

The eccentric Cork athlete , when asked how he felt after winning his 5th. World Championship said in typical understated fashion ‘Fine”.

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Tinteán

Easter altar in Ballylongford photographed by Helen Lane

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John Molyneaux R.I.P.

This photograph was shared by Martin Moore. A young John Molyneaux is on the right in front. Martin’s Dad, Michael Moore R.I.P. is in the centre at the back.

David Kissane’s Tribute to his former teacher, John Molyneaux continued;

We take up the story here at David’s first days in St. Michael’s.

….

The teachers strode in in turn as the classes revealed themselves. In strode Mr John Molyneaux through the door on our left for our Latin class. Head down, full stride, total silence and up to put his back to the blackboard. He exuded authority. The type of authority that God had in the Old Testament. Lists of books and accoutrements were delivered and warnings about homework and dedication as Mr Molyneaux scanned the class for possible trouble. Or worse. Laziness. Yes sir, we understood what was required. The weight of the college began to be felt. We felt a funeral in our brains as Emily Dickinson had written to the west in the US.

And for the five years that most of our class of ’72 spent in the two upstairs rooms in St Michael’s College, John Molyneaux was a teacher. First and foremost as our Latin teacher, a subject he imparted with the timorem dei (fear of god) that the Roman emperors whom he taught us about had possessed. The amo, amas, amat, amamus, amatis, amant that was drilled into us, by both Mr Molyneaux and ourselves, frightened and excited us all at once as he word amo means “I love” and encouraged all sorts of possibilities in our hungry minds. He had an ice of character when teaching in those early days. Roman history was more interesting and the perusing of our text “The Story of the Roman People” by Tappan was immediately a hit with boys interested in war and fighting. We grew into the Latin and the other subjects by hook and by crook. Vercingetorix, Hannibal, Cato, Pompey, Crassus, Romulus and Remus, Lucullus, Cicero, Augustus, the Carthaginians and the Vandals. They became part of our psyche and brought us into a world of battles and wars of the past as the Vietnam war was part of our present in the late 1960s and early 1970s. 

Mr Molyneaux also grew as a character and had his bridging nuances when required. One phrase of his became legendary: “Oh ho!” It was often uttered when a student had made a slip-up in an answer and could have unfortunate consequences but was also used in humorous tales that he would refer to in the course of an aside to the regular routine. When Julius Caesar was faced by daggers, and Brutus (his so-called friend) was among them, the emperor was heard to say “Oh ho!” before the eternal “Et tu, Brute!” According to Mr Molyneaux.

And then there were the English derivatives of Latin words that he usually found a funny angle to explain. When clarifying that the word bullet came from the Latin word for a locket, “bulla” he would have us know that a locket was a shell-like object with a charm inside, ie the gunpowder! Smiles and nods all round. A question about the Latin word “mappa” was answered by one student (from Lisselton) by stating that the word “nappy” derived from it, rather than napkin! Not far away though and Mr Molyneaux smiled at the verbal typo. One all.

Old Latin sayings are a treasure trove of knowledge and he provided the key more more than once. There was the “quis costodiet custodes?” one…who watches the watchers? He related a story about a meeting he was at the week before to appoint river wardens for the Feale and had used the saying to remind the meeting of the necessity to keep an eye on the wardens as well! It reminded us that Mr Molyneaux had another life outside teaching and revealed that in fact he was active in numerous committees. A multi-dimensional human being who contributed to the community that he was born into.

We discovered the further versatility of our Latin teacher when he became our English teacher for Inter Cert. He was immersed in the English language and we were amazed that there was another dimension to his classroom self. Shakespeare’s Merchant of Venice is especially remembered as the play he shared with us. He enunciated the central theme of the play with incredible expertise and for many of us that was our way into the genius that was Shakespeare: “How many things by season season’d are?” and “the quality of mercy is not strained” still taste to the memory lollipop.

 I can see Mr Molyneaux now sitting on top of a desk at the head of our thick-walled classroom in St Michael’s on an April day with the world waking up outside and inner worlds waking up in all of us. The red-covered Merchant book in his hand and his gifts as a storyteller casting a spell over the hushed room. All teachers are storytellers and John Molyneaux was a gifted one. No videos or opportunities to see the actual play in those days. It was happening on the classroom stage and in the words of the teacher. The climax of the play had arrived. Shylock had demanded his pound of flesh for a loan not returned by Gratiano and the judge Portia had asked the shivering Gratiano to lay bare his chest for the knife of Shylock. We feasted on John Molyneaux’s words as Portia dramatically adds “But in the cutting, if thou dost shed one drop of Christian blood, thy lands and goods are confiscate unto the state of Venice”. We were showered with the magic of the words. And the world beyond time and place. Our new world.

The labels of Jew and Christian would be worked out later when our understanding of religion would be challenged in the years ahead, but something magical had happened that day in our English class. In fact, something magical happened in every class most days.

Gradually his influence came to bear in many other ways. His artistic style of hand-writing was emulated by some of us…a not-joined-up style with the peculiar three-pronged independent letter that was copied and used by this student for the rest of his life. The mention of hand-writing may be a mystery to modern students but in the heady days of 1967-1972 it as a status symbol in many ways. It was also the messaging system to girlfriends and pen pals and family.

One of the abiding memories of Mr Molyneaux’s classes is the Saturday morning westerns’ lends. What? Saturday morning? Yeah, we went to St Michael’s for a half day on Saturday for a few years! Westerns? Yeah! Every Saturday at the end of the Latin class, he would bring in a box of Westerns to lend to us for the week. The genre was very popular at the time with boys and men and authors like Zane Grey and Oliver Strange (the Sudden series) were among the most read. In my case my father always read the borrowed Westerns, and the father of my friend Gerard Neville from Inch likewise fed on the books. 

(More tomorrow)

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A New Chapter for Ballybunion’s Tinteán

This huge theatre, 517 seats, has been beset by problems for a long time. It is brave and enterprising of the new committee to take it on and attempt to revive it and fulfill the dream of its founder, Micheál Carr.

The first concert at Easter 2022 was a great success.

Liam O’Connor, Brian Kennedy and Jimmy Deenihan

There is an ambitious programme planned for the coming months. Let’s hope it is a huge success.

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Meanwhile back in 1968

Once upon a time in Listowel, the highlight of the social calendar was McKenna’s Staff annual Social. You did not have to work in McKenna’s to get a ticket.

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Ah lads, what’s going on here ?

I hope the further notice is coming shortly.

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