Category: Kerry - Reading the Signs

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The Pope In Ireland

22/8/2018

In 2014, we spotted the vinyl record of the visit of Pope John Paul II on the walls of Ard Bia restaurant in Galway. It led to a discussion among friends and colleagues as to 1979 being a very different time.

As a teenager then, I was brought to Limerick. I remember walking back to my uncle’s house afterwards and it was as if everyone in Limerick had been at the racecourse – the roads were so quiet on way back.

My cousin went to Dublin and Galway. A neighbour of similar vintage was on a coach to Galway with a sing-song the whole way up.

I am contemplating travelling to the vigil at Tuam this Sunday. The Dublin vigil looks like it will be very well supported.

I do not know of any one person attending Knock or Phoenix Park this weekend – definitely different times.

I was very surprised to recently see reference to the visit of Pope John Paul II on a headstone at Kilbannivane Cemetery, Castleisland. I will be so much more surprised if a see in the future a reference on a headstone to the visit of Pope Francis – these are very different times.

Ard Bia, Galway - 2014

Kilbannivane Cemetery, Castleisland

Victims of the War – But Which War?

15/8/2018

Quite a few blog posts hereabouts have been accompanied by the expression that ‘it is a bad day when one does not learn something new’.

Last week, I learned something completely new. Upto then, I would have thought that it could not have been true. It was so ‘not a bad day’.

Private A. George died 21st March, 1921

Serjeant F. Boxold died 11th February, 1921

Those of you who regularly pass by these pages are probably aware of my interest in Commonwealth War Graves – the inscriptions; the dates; the distances travelled; the alias; the location; and, the neighbours in the graveyard.

I had understood that such headstones were erected to those who had died in the World Wars or slightly after as a consequence of action in a World War.

Brits Out – Still Happening

19/5/2018

While the women of the house sit in front of a television, waiting for the appearance of a wedding dress, I am contemplating the removal, deliberate or otherwise, of part of the history that remains from when Ireland was part of the United Kingdom.

I have often blogged on matters relating to postboxes – colour & font; split-personalities; repurposing; quirks of manufacture; and, even, the riddle of Shanagarry. Another blog on a post-box should not surprise too many who pass by here often.

This is another reminder to self to continue the populating of the map that I started – hundreds and hundreds still to do.

This blog has been prompted by a tweet from Eoin Lettice about the upcoming Sheppard’s Auction where Lot 2 is a Victorian cast iron pillar postbox, guiding €2,000 - €3,000, previously resident at Patrick’s Street in Cork.

My recording of postboxes only goes back as far as this website and the VR box from Patrick’s St. was before that. If I were to guess, it may have been replaced by the modern rust-bucket style unit, now at the junction with Academy Street, but I may need to flick through books with old photographs to hunt for more clues.

Maybe An Post needed the money and decided to sell off some postboxes from stores. Maybe some ‘enterprising’ person thought that they were being wasted in An Post stores.

The old boxes definitely are better wearing and hardier than that the modern versions. I would have thought that it would be an idea for An Post to keep the old style to replace the postbox causalities – and there have been a few.

There was an old pillar box in Ballyphehane in Cork that is no longer – or substantially no longer. The base is still there and used as a concrete foundation for the new style box. I suspect this was a victim of a road traffic accident.

The Carron Scotland pillar box at the Holy Ground in Dingle lost its battle with a truck that came down Green Street and ended up in the Woolen Store shop. It was replaced by an old-style Handyside pillar box

The Carron, Scotland pillar-box that stood outside Bandon Road Post Office in Cork city is yet another that is no longer.

But whether this was another victim of road traffic or revenge for the ambush at Ballynamona, Mourneabbey is still open to debate and supposition

Grows One Night

27/3/2018

Not for the first time on our Conversational Irish walk, I was delighted with the literal translation of a new Irish word learned.

Last Summer, I had learned of an expression from West Cork – as tough as ath fhéithlean, a bi-lingual acknowledgement of the strength and stubbornness of Woodbine. I had always known the plant as Woodbine, quite probably the name was ingrained following many visits with my grandfather to those institutions that no longer exist, the tobacconist. He had a preferred mix of a number of brands for his pipe.

It was well into the second half of my years to date before I knew it was also called Honeysuckle.

A few weeks later, as we walked around Blackrock and Bessboro, I learned of “Fás Aon Oíche”, or “Grows One Night”.

I thought it was such a lovely name, perfectly describing what was in front of us – a mushroom.

Only the previous week, sitting on a high stool while on holidays, Tim imparted the benefit of his local knowledge. We now know where to find mushrooms while on holidays.

A few days after that Conversational Irish walk, I headed west for the Dingle peninsula to pack up everything and everyone – the return home after the Kerry Summer Experience. Before leaving that Saturday, I headed out early and collected a cap-full of mushrooms that had sprouted up that night. It remains my most recent meal on the Dingle peninsula.

I can still recall the buzz of foraging and the flavours enjoyed.

A tweet last weekend from Robert Macfarlane on ‘puhpowee’, a native North American word for the force that pushes mushrooms up overnight, assisted in getting this blog from my brain into the virtual world.

It has also prompted a separate section of other words in Irish that brought a smile with their literal translations – Head of a Cat; Seal’s Snot; and, others. Hopefully, even more will be added over time.

If a Book Could Only Talk

24/12/2017

This book was recently taken down from an attic in Ennis where it resided for probably close to 50 years. It is assumed that it belonged to the man who built the house but he was educated in Partry, Co. Mayo where he was born in 1918.

The web educates that fifth edition of the book was published in 1910. There is nothing to say whether this copy is a first or later edition.

Among those thanked in the Preface is an tAthair Pearar Ó Laoghaire, who died in 1920 and is buried in Castlelyons where Thomas Kent was reinterred in 2016. Seán Ó Catháin and Diarmaid Ó Foghludha are also thanked and, if I found the correct men, they died in 1937 and 1924 respectively, and were involved in Irish education.

sJames Griffin of Main Street in Dingle has his name written in the book. The 1911 Census reveals that there was only one James Griffin in Main Street, Dingle, the then youngest of ten children living with shopkeeper Michael and his wife, Kate. Their house was at 33 Main Street.

Having gone up and down the street on Google, very few premises have numbers on their doors. Even fewer appear to have the building number on their website or on weblistings. My best guess is that the south side (Foxy John’s; Benners) have odd numbers and the north side (Currans; St James’ Church) have the even numbers.

Number 33 would appear to be in or around McKenna’s . My mind supposes that young James Griffin, as one who had no problem with writing his name in many locations, was more interested in playing around the corner on Dykegate Street rather than perfecting the art of Irish Composition. The fact that at 4 his parents did not consider him able to speak either Irish or English, adds to that image.

I can understand how the book travelled from Partry to Ennis and why it resided in an attic for 50 years but am intrigued as to who Pat Carroll was; was he the second of three owners of the book; where was he living.

How the book got from Dingle to Partry is another riddle remaining unsolved.

I don’t think I have ever before enjoyed a book so much without reading it.

Headless in the Glen of The Wedge

11/11/2017

I was sorting through some photographs taken during the Summer and spotted that today was the anniversary of the Earl of Desmond.

As good a reason as any to try to get back to more regular blogging.

Logainm assists with the meaning of Glenageenty – Gleann na Ginnte

Another word added to my Irish vocabulary – dícheann – to behead

A Hidden Gem in Dingle

23/7/2017

My conversational Irish weekend took me west of Dingle last April.

Saturday late afternoon had me walking around Dingle when I came across this manhole cover.

It records the raising of the Green Irish Republic flag over the G.P.O. in Easter 1916 by Eamonn Bulfin. Finola on Roaringwater Journal educated that there were actually two flags raised with Gearóid O’Sullivan’s raising the tricolour, remembered in Skibbereen.

Dingle

Skibbereen

I was intrigued as I had not seen one of its type previously, or since – and I do look out for the likes of manhole covers.

Last week, we left our holiday location for a spin over the Conor Pass to Dingle where I was hopeful of discovering more about the manhole cover. It was the first that the Tourist Office knew about the manhole cover. They suggested a visit to the library who were equally unaware.

On the off chance that it was a specially commissioned piece, I did ask at the Green Lane Gallery but they had not spotted what is near their door.

My next step was to be a visit to the Council offices on my next trip west but the internet has provided some answers.

There were manufactured by EJ Co in Birr, Co. Offaly – the former Cavanagh plant. The August 2016 edition of the Local Authority News publication advised that the commemorative covers were designed in conjunction with Siobhan Bulfin.

Twitter revealed that Kerry County Council installed one in Listowel.

I do think that such covers are a great way to record and commemorate, as well as display art – I do hope that there will be more such commemorations to be spotted under our feet.

Patrick Costelloe - from Boolteens to New Zealand

25/4/2017

On Sunday, I was returning from my conversational Irish weekend, happy and relaxed. I decided to go along some roads not before travelled by me. I took a stroll through the cemetery at Kiltallagh, outside Castlemaine.

I met with the name of Patrick Costelloe.
I was particularly struck by the fern. To my recollection, this is the first time that I have seen a CWGC headstone with the New Zealand insignia, for someone that served in the New Zealand forces, and I have seen a few in my cemetery visits. This caused to be pause a while longer.

A tweet today from the Imperial War Museum educated that the Haka was first heard and seen by many in Europe in the fields of World War 1 when performed by New Zealand soldiers. This reminded me of Dave Gallaher.

I knew that Irishmen fought in the armies of very many different countries in World War 1. Dave Gallaher from Donegal was captain of the first All Blacks team to tour in 1905, called the Original All Blacks. He died after the Battle of Broodseinde on October 4th, 1917, shortly before his forty-fourth birthday.

Patrick Costelloe died in September 1915, less than 3 months after departing from Wellington His father was from Boolteens on the Dingle peninsula. He was born in Castlemaine and was single when he died at the age of 25 years. He is remembered on the cenotaph in Auckland.

This morning, the web advised that today is Anzac Day. It is 102 years since the Australian and New Zealand forces landing at Gallipoli. It is also the day upon which New Zealand and Australia commemorates their soldiers who were killed in war, and honours returned servicemen and women.

It has been only two days since I first learned of Patrick Costelloe. I have wondered why he travelled so far from Boolteens.

For Anzac Day, I thought I’d share his name.

From Kilmalkader to Grafton Street

30/3/2017

A short while back, a blog post arrived in my inbox containing a lead photograph of the boat above and I immediately recognised it as being from a headstone at Kilmalkader in Corca Dhuibhne – the two blogs earlier this week, prompted a third.

The carving is on a beautiful and unusual headstone at the bottom of the cemetery, looking out to sea. The wording engraved is a simple message that Dr. Paddy Moriarty, who ministered to the peninsula for 30 years, died on 31 May, 1944.

My interpretation of the boat was escapism, Jonny Baker’s was returning to a safe harbour – there are probably many other interpretations. The engraving was memorable to more than us.

And that was where the blog would have finished until I went searching for more information on Dr Moriarty and, unless there were two Dr. Paddy Moriarty’s on the Dingle peninsula in the 1940’s, the headstone story weaves through Patrick Kavanagh, Raglan Road, a Fianna Fáil minister, and on to Dido.

‘On Raglan Road of an autumn day I saw her first and knew
That her dark hair would weave a snare that I might one day rue’

Raglan Road - Patrick Kavanagh

Dido wrote Grafton Street in memory of her father, who was a nephew of Hilda Moriarty – O’Malley, the dark haired beauty that snared Patrick Kavanagh. The Irish Times said that as ‘a young girl, Dido was obsessed with great-aunt Hilda, the tales of her beauty and her role in Raglan Road’, and that she sung Raglan Road to her father as he was dying.

Hilda Moriarty was a student at U.C.D when Patrick Kavanagh spotted her on Raglan Road – the poem, and song followed. In 1947, she married Donogh O’Malley who went on to be Minister for Education and introduced free post-primary education for all.

In U.C.D., future President, Paddy Hillery, was a classmate. Richard Harris was a friend.

It was Autumn 1944 when Patrick Kavanagh spotted Hilda Moriarty and was smitten. He followed her home to Dingle peninsula, uninvited, that Christmas.

If there was indeed only one Dr Paddy Moriarty, that was the Christmas period that he died, aged 51.

A lovely headstone now has a story attached to it in my head.

‘Hilda was the daughter of Dr Paddy Moriarty who worked as a GP in Dingle, County Kerry. Fellow Kerryman, Con Houlihan, describes Paddy Moriarty as ‘a good doctor and a brave man’. Stormy seas would not deter him from visiting sick patients on the Blaskets or Valentia Island.’

Gary Culliton - Irish Medical Times

‘When Hilda went home to Dingle for Christmas in 1944, Kavanagh followed her. There was no invitation to the Moriarty home, of course. A middle-aged, out of-work journalist and ex-small farmer was not the kind of husband Dr paddy Moriarty envisaged for his beautiful daughter. Kavanagh put up at Kruger Kavanagh’s guesthouse in Dunquin and defrayed his expenses by publishing an article on “My Christmas in Kerry” in the Irish Press.”

Liam Cheasty

Remembering Thomas Russell

27/3/2017

When looking back through my photographs from Kilmalkader Cemetery for the dramatic masks, I saw that on this day 99 years ago Thomas Russell died. It demanded some web searching.

There is some confusion as to the date of death - Wikipedia says his death was 18th March, 1918; BMH record says 24th March. Both differ from the headstone saying 27th March. He is mentioned in The Clare War Dead by Tom Burnell.

He was teaching Irish at the Sinn Féin Club at Carrigaholt, Co. Clare. He was stabbed and died later that night.

A new name committed to the memory bank.

On 24th March 1918, the usual weekly meeting of the Carrigaholt Sinn Fein Club was in progress. I was there and I was standing at the door. About noon, a knock came to the door which I opened. A British military officer was outside along with some soldiers carrying fixed bayonets. He asked me if I was in charge and I said "Yes". He then inquired if Michael Keane was inside. I again said "Yes". He then asked for Keane who went out to him. The officer then said to me: "You must clear this hall". I asked him what he meant by this action and said that this was a meeting of the Sinn Fein Club which we had a perfect right to hold, that we had been holding meetings Sunday without interference. He thereupon shouted an order to his men to charge and, simultaneously, soldiers with fixed bayonets burst in through the door and formed up into a square in the centre of the room. A military sergeant gave orders to clear the room.

Some of the members got out by the back door. I was still at the front door trying to keep it open as the soldiers had begun to lunge with their bayonets and our people began to stampede. I next felt a bayonet stab in the back which caused me to let go the door, and in a rush out of the building the crowd swept me out into the street. Outside, I heard that Dr. Studdart was in Behan's Hotel and went up to see him. I found him attending to Thomas Russell, a Kerryman who was employed by the Gaelic League as an Irish teacher. Russell had been severely wounded by a bayonet thrust while at the Sinn Fein meeting. Dr. Studdert treated my wound and also those of two others who also had been bayoneted. Russell was -10-S removed to Kilrush Hospital the following morning but died that night. He was buried in Kerry.

BMH Statement of Eamonn Fennell

UPDATE 2018.03.24

Following some recent messages which can be viewed below, you may be interested in the following links:

Radio Kerry has details of the exhibition at Dingle Library which continues until 8th April

An Saol ó Dheas has a piece, as Gaeilge, about Thomas Russell and the commemoration on Easter Saturday 31st March, 2018

A Dramatic Headstone

27/3/2017

This morning, I spotted a retweet mentioning that it was #WorldTheatreDay. It included the image of two masks which reminded me of a headstone in Kilmalkader.

A bright lovely Sunday morning last April, this headstone did cause me to pause and wonder, and smile.

I have not seen the masks on a headstone before or since.

It has proved memorable.

Similar Faces, Similar Fates

10/10/2016

In April, 2015, I learned of Dún an Óir and the massacre of 600 men and women. This morning’s update from Stair na hÉireann reminded that the killings took place on this day in 1580.

In April 2015, I was on my conversational Irish weekend down in Buailtín (Ballyferriter). Waking early after the first night, I set off for a walk along Béal Bán ending up at Dún an Óir where another dot of information and knowledge was added to my limited reservoir.

My first thought upon seeing the monument was that the faces were very similar to those thah I had seen at Kilmallock and Kilfinnane. I had to go back to my photos to compare and still think there is a likeness.

All three memorials are to people who died hundreds of years ago. The dead were all killed and nearly all, if not all, beheaded. These may be factors in the similarity – 'what image records might actually exist' has now gone on the list of , ‘To Find Out More’.

In searching for some more information, it appears that Bishop O’Healy, the first bishop executed by the English, arrived into Smerwick Harbour in 1579 – one year before the soldiers who built the fort at Dún an Óir – I assume its remoteness and isolation, which I appreciated that morning, did make it attractive for unseen entry to Ireland.

Just like those at Dún an Óir, Bishop O’Healy was killed in the same year as his arrival in Smerwick.

Just like part-way up Mount Brandon, the rules of bilingual signage are tweaked slightly.

Quarter Mile Marker

8/9/2016

I very much like the idea of bringing metal or even street furniture into the garden as a feature.

I still hope for a phone box – and a letter box. I was jealous of JV’s Cannon Bath.

I do have a hopper, a yellow fire hydrant ‘H’ sign and recently got the top of an old bus stop when CIE were installing the new design bus stops. I think that they improve the garden – not everyone agrees but they definitely provide a discussion topic.

The most recent acquisition is a church pew – an adequately sized location is the current hurdle.

When in Kerry during the summer, my envy increased a few levels when I spotted what I assume to be a railway line marker.

The Inchicore Works from 1899 for the Great Southern & Western Railway – absolutely lovely and guaranteed to start a discussion.

An absolute beauty – in the eyes of this beholder.

Remembering The Seanchaí

11/8/2016

2015

I have been to Gneeveguilla only once. Entering the village as the light was fading on a lazy Sunday evening, I never expected that it would inspire a streak of inquisitiveness that has led to very many dots of historical information that are now connected in my web of a brain. Neither did I expect that a year later, the visit would prompt a visit to the theatre for a very enjoyable performance.

Leaving my family behind on the Dingle Peninsula to enjoy a warm summer week, I returned to Cork to continue the struggle for the legal tender. I diverted to Gneeveguilla, a detour promted by a previous blog when I learned of a ‘Gneeve’.

The detour was profitable in feeding my hunt for grottos and postboxes before I arrived at the village where I was brought back to many evenings watching television in my youth. I grew up within 15 minute walk of Patrick St yet the stories of The Seanchaí were always watched and enjoyed.

A month later, visiting friends, I spotted The Apprentice on their bookshelf and it went on to my ‘To Find & Buy’ list – within months it was taken off that list, as were two other Éamon Kelly books.

2016

Within the last couple of months, the three books have been read and appreciated. There were not enough flysheets to accommodate the very many notes that I scrawled to remind me as to possible future (or past) connections to add to the web of knowledge. I prefer the flysheets to notes in the margin – time spent finding the page with the margin note has taught me that lesson.

There was quite a number of nuggets about people and places that I had blogged previously – Jerome Connor’s statue that he spotted in Washington; acting in the plays of T.C. Murray and adapted from Seumus O’Kelly; and, the tradition of telling the bees of family news to which Mikel Murfi first introduced me.

My interest in matters relating to Seamus Murphy was also stirred in that I learned that there was a one-man play adapted from his book Stone Mad and that Seamus Murphy believed that the lettering on Nelson’s Column was the best example in Ireland – I sense Donal Fallon’s book moving onto that list.

Gneeveguilla, Co. Kerry

Cork Arts Theatre

To Find Out More List

The three books have provided little bits of knowledge about so many things that I need to find out more (ever connecting).

I have enjoyed a pint in The Blue Bull in Sneem. It was Éamon Kelly who educated that The Blue Bull was a Synge Play.

I will need to return to Gneeveguilla to photograph the plaque to Mick Sullivan who was shot by Black & Tans while Éamon Kelly was in the adjacent school – the list of Civil War and War of Independence memorials ever growing.

There are many traditions that intrigued, sounded lovely or just demanded further exploring – families joined in butter; overnight fasting prior to receiving Holy Communion; family owning a church pew so those standing at back did not have funds to purchase and pay rent on pew; stopping the clock upon a death, as seen in Jean deFlorette; and the giving of a disease to another similar to leaving cloth on a rag tree at a Holy Well.

It also introduced words to me, many appear derived for Irish. These will keep me going for some time. The list is below but any education as to ‘gripe’; ‘hoult’; ‘fakah’;or, ‘roiseters’ would be welcome.

A Visit To The Theatre

This week I spotted that Jack Healy had a play based upon the stories of Éamon Kelly at The Cork Arts Theatre on Camden Quay.

Yesterday lunchtime was a magnificent hour spent listening, smiling, laughing and remembering.

More than halfway through the show, I was reminded as to one of my flysheet notes in The Journeyman. There had been quite a few different stories. Éamon Kelly in The Journeyman was writing of ‘In My Father’s Time’ – ‘We found that a number of stories told one after the other could sound episodic. There had to be a changing relationship between the pieces, and the links had to be carefully thought out to make seamless the fabric, which we hoped would be colourful and entertaining’.

My flysheet note was that the book, unlike The Apprentice which I found much more interesting, was failing to flow. Fair play to Jack Healy. With the benefit of reflection on my hour or so in the auditorium, the different aspects and stories flowed; and, the knitting of the stories was brilliant and of a manner that brought the occasion up to date.
I had heard or read of a few of the stories but the delivery, verbally and with actions, made them a new experience – I laughed even when I knew the punchline.

It is in the Cork Arts Theatre only until tomorrow night but is intended to travel later in the year.

I do recommend.

Dive Bombing

20/7/2016

There may be a difference between the strategies of city based and coastal based seagulls.

Last week, I was enjoying a dirty black pint with my chips and sandwich at Murphy’s Bar at Brandon Pier - there is something extra tasty about a summer lunchtime pint.

Sitting there, us city dwellers saw for the first time dive-bombing seagulls.

They are possibly common and seen by nearly all but me. As new to me, I thought it warranted an upload even though it is not a sign (or is it) and especially even though I have yet to find out how to manipulate video to turn 90°.