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: Races

Vincent’s Race Week memories (part 2)

During raceweek many private houses became eating emporiums overnight, to cater for all the visitors culinary needs. Their windows displayed posters proclaiming, HOT AND COLD MEALS, MEAT PIES, SOUP AND SANDWICHES. These posters would have been procured from the printer, Cuthbertson in advance. He  would also have reams of penny ballad sheets ready for the soon- to -arrive ballad singers who would plytheirvocal trades in the streets and pubs of the town during the three days. 

Monies that were made during the week from the the different entrepreneurial ventures were put to good use; rates, fuel for the winter, school fees were paid for, footwear and winter clothing bought and some money could be put away for the rainy day.

The Island bridge was the only entrance to the racecourse from the town itself and one paid to enter here. This allowed entrance to the outside enclosure only.  This was a fully serviced area directly across from the stand. Here also there were bookies, tented bars and a small fun fair. Just like today there was another entrance from the Tralee road up to O’ Leary’s house. The stand area was much smaller than that of today and there was an extra charge for admittance. 

The island bridge itself in the 1950’s was built partially of timber. Horses that were stabled in town accessed the racecourse by means of this bridge. I can clearly remember the sight and  sound of the horses being led to the racecourse  in the midst of the crowd of racegoers. 

Another smell that still prevails in my senses from that time is the particular scent of the trodden grass “coming back from the Island” as people would describe coming home in the evening after the races. At the bridge there were always the three card trick men and their buddies.

The pubs thrived for the week.  At a rough count, I can think of 57 up and running during the 1950s. As evening turned to night and as the drink took hold, singing voices of all standards were raised and Cuthbertson’s ballads could be heard in full throttle.

The town’s two cinemas, Astor and Plaza, would have two evening performances and Walsh’s newly built Super Ballroom had dancing every night.  Mick Delahunty and his orchestra were regulars, aided and abetted by the resident orchestra.A game known as Pongo (a forerunner of Bingo) was played in St. Patrick’s Hall.

Jack McKenna had a very interesting contraption in one of his smaller shop windows in Market Street. It was called a continuous projector. At night it showed Movie Tone News.  This included footage from the year’s Grand National and highlights of The Cup Final. 

The demise of the “tinkers market” came with the building of the mart in the late 50s. For a number of years they relocated to the bank of the river, near where Carroll’s yard is now. As their mode of transport, i.e. horse drawn caravans, disappeared from our roads in the 1960’s so ended this era of traveller tradition at the races.

Vincent’s Race Week memories (part 1)

Vincent Carmody has shared with us his memories of Race Weeks in the 1950’s. I thoroughly enjoyed reading about The Harvest Festival of Racing in a different era. I hope you enjoy the following account too.  

This is surely the one week of the year that Listowel people, no matter where in the world they find themselves, will harbour nostalgic thoughts of their home town and the magic that race week brings. Everyone will have different memories and the following are some of mine.

The build up to the week started nearly immediately after returning to school after the summer holidays.

Writing compositions on the week of the races or a trip to the Island.

The nineteen fifties Race Week of which I write consisted of three days racing, Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday.

Paul Kennelly from Ballinruddery making several trips around the town with his hay cart, firstly, dropping of the large concrete stands in which the poles that the multicolored buntings would stand, when these would be in place. He was accompanied by his sons who would climb large trestle ladders and string the buntings from pole to pole. For a while it was the practice to tie bunches of ivy on to the poles.  This was discontinued after some unfortunate hungry ass, who had been tied to a pole, starting eating the only green within his range and died on the spot. Little was Paul Kennelly to know as he decorated the town that two of his sons would make their mark at another racing festival at another time and in another country, I refer to Martin (Murt) Kennelly and his brother Sheamus, who won the 1983 Cheltenham Gold Cup with their horse Bregawn.

Birds amusements would have have arrived at the weekend and would be ready to open on the Monday night, the bumpers and chair o planes were the main attraction, they were always in the back market. The front market( prior to the building of the Mart premises in 1960) was known as the tinkers market. Very many travelers, from all over, would have their horse drawn caravans parked in rows inside the wall at Market Street. The lower side of this yard contained many sideshows and rows of swinging boats owned by independent operators. The colourful sight of the tinkers caravans at night time with the timber fueled bonfires burning outside have remained in my senses since. 

On the Monday evening special trains would arrive at the railway station transporting racehorses. They would then be walked down through the streets and back-ways to the different stable yards where they would be billeted for the week. Hay, straw and the tack would follow, brought from the train by Joe Stokes or Jet Carroll on their long cars. Most of the stabling was privately owned, however the race company had fifty stables at the back of William Street (below the Creamery yard), now a public car park.

On each race morning there was an opportunity to make handy money, the Race Company had their town office upstairs at Leanes in the Square (Harnett’s chemist shop). One could buy race cards there for nine pence, and sell them at one shilling. Having bought them, there was a ready market with the throngs of people alighting from trains and buses, each race day there were four special trains as well as the regular ones. These would come from Dublin, Limerick, Newcastlewest and Tralee. Buses would transport people from places not serviced by the railway.

 Many private houses became eating houses overnight to cater for these travelers culinary needs. Posters would have been procured from  the printer Cuthbertson in advance. These posters usually proclaimed hot and cold meals and meat pies.

To be continued….

Prince Monolulu

 File:Monolulu.jpg

This man was a colourful character who was a regular visitor to Listowel Races.

Ras Prince Monolulu (1881 St Croix, Danish West Indies – 14 February 1965 Middlesex HospitalLondon), whose real name was Peter Carl Mackay (or McKay), was something of an institution on the British horse racing scene from the 1920s until the time of his death.[1] He was particularly noticeable for his brightly coloured clothing; as a tipster, one of his best known phrases was the cry “I gotta horse!”, which was subsequently the title of his memoirs.[2][3] He frequently featured in newsreel broadcasts, and as a consequence was probably the most well-known black man in Britain of the time.[4]

Although claiming to be a chief of the Falasha tribe of Abyssinia, the reality is that he came from the Caribbean island of St Croix (now part of the United States Virgin Islands). He styled himself as a Prince after being press-ganged on one occasion, assuming that a prince would be far less likely to be shanghaied.

During World War I he was interned in Germany at the Ruhleben Prisoner of War Camp.

He rose to prominence after picking out the horse Spion Kop (cf. Battle of Spion Kop) in the 1920 Derby, which came in at the long odds of 100-6, and from which he personally made some £8,000, a vast amount of money at the time.

The biography of Jeffrey Bernard by Graham Lord describes Prince Monolulu’s death in some detail. It describes how Bernard at the time was working as a horse racing journalist and visited Monolulu in the Middlesex Hospital to interview him. Bernard had brought with him a box of ‘Black Magic‘ chocolates and offered Monolulu a ‘strawberry cream’. Monolulu subsequently choked to death on it and Bernard bade him farewell.[5]

The baptism of Monolulu (as Peter Carl McKay, on 26 October 1881) has been traced in the records of the English Episcopal Church of the Danish West Indies. His father, whose name is not shown in the register, was William Henry McKay and his mother was Catherine Heyliger.[6]

His family (father and brothers) were horse breeders, raisers and racers on St Croix though they were more conventional. There was a case in the 1920s where their knowledge of superior horses was used against a gambler who perpetrated the murder of a child to make a horse win through black magic.

He appears briefly in the 1952 film Derby Day which is set around the Epsom Derby.

I have lifted all of this information from Wikipaedia but I know that lots of older Listowel people remember  him. Anyone like to share a memory with us?

P.S. I know that some people are encountering trouble with posting comments. If you send any stories to me at listowelconnection@gmail.com I’ll give you the credit when I post them. Meanwhile there are a few interesting comments on the first page of this blog.

First day of The Races 2011

Listowel’s very own Hollywood has arrived to the market yard.

It’s a pity that the weather is letting us down but spirits are high. There is a good buzz in town. Shops are busy and the hurdy gurdies were going all night last night. Ruby Walsh is making his comeback on the racecourse so we are set for good week. There are lots of the old on-street attractions which had been missing for a few years making a return too. There will be a barman’s race, a wheelie bin race and live entertainment on a gig rig. There is also a novel jockeys, bookies and uncle Tom Cobbly and all type football match planned. That could be a hoot! 

Countdown to The Races

The town is in full bloom. Everywhere is fresh and clean.

Houses are getting their annual facelift.

 Summer attractions like the live theatre in The Seanchaí are drawing to a close.

The road works on the bridge are finishing. My photo shows tarring in progress yesterday.

All of this can only mean one thing. Listowel’s Harvest Festival of Racing is upon us. Yipee! and a big céad míle fáilte to all our visitors. May you lose a penny and find a pound.

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