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The Town I loved so well


Posted by Oliver Killeen on October 12, 2011 at 08:04:56:

....looking back over my life....in the town i love so well

...a cara.......looking back over my life....its been a long.....winding road from ....10 mchale road....to west toronto......saleen lake....would only be a but a spoonful of vast lake ontario...and the towers of downtown toronto.....sure the likes i never imagined....sitting by the range in old number ten......it was a different time then....as dickens...wrote in his tale of two cities....it was the best of times....it was the worst of times....it was the age of wisdom....it was the age of foolishness...it was the season of light...it was the season of darkness...the sopring of hope...the winter of despair....sure it was and grand arah....thanks be to god....we got got through it ...and enjoyed every bit of it....sure...didnt they say the yanks won the war...and saved the world...god bless us...but going to your neighbours and borrowing a cup of sugar...or a grain of tea...was as common as using a piece of the the irish press...to wipe your ass....we had survived the blackouts....do you remember the blackouts....during the dark days of the war....when the firm of messrs. ....hitler...and goering....attacked with v1s and v2s.....the local defence corps...patrolled at night....watching for anything that might appear in the sky....there were...people like peter o malley...chas guthrie mike cunningham my father and others...that walked to the airodrome ...but the only thing they saw....tom brinklow trying tio catch a few rabits...with his ferret....in those hungry days of the '40s////everything looked bleak....the town was more compact....sure you were out of town...when you got to the milebush..and ballyheane cross roads...moneen cottages...although part of the town ...were not...jack reillys ...and the mcnulty family ....homes...at maryland.....were the last houses on the breaffy road...the county home.....or workhouse as it was known...was the marker..on the pontoon end...the county home was a foreboding place....with the residents...wering their familiar grey jackets..and caps.....this was the end of the line for many unfortunates....who were homeless...and broke....and although it also had a hospital wing....it was grim...the structure....was cold and grey....and during the war years...had painted white crosses...on its roof...as did the county hospital...and assylum......mchale park...or sportsfield as we called it....was not even a thought of what it is today....just the field....with its galvanized wall ...running from one end to the other....inside the fence...was aplantation....where as a youngster....i honed my tarzan skills...swinging from one tree to the next....tearing my legs ...with branches....across from fallons house ....there was a big cast iron ....cylinder....that spawned the finest tadpoles...and frogs...that side...of the shannon...the park had a primitive changing room....no bells or whistles...in this shack...just a spot where you could take a shower...but as soon as you pulled on the rope....that ran the water...your balls...did a michael jackson moon walk.....and almost fell off....as the ice cold ...saleen lake water hit ya....the bacon factory was still just that....the beef and and martin dolan had not yet arrived.....danky...zwanne...dan carroll...were the fixtures....but it did have a poultry ....dept....that ran under the supervision of joe mitchell.....here chickens ..ducks...geese....wrre killed and plucked....and rabbits...were skinned.....i often dropped in there to take a look...with my old friend...pat moylette....here...martha ...ruanne...mary b binie gannon and others...the craic was mighty...listening to the binnies...banter...binnie was a character....who lived with her mother on lucan street...but was always on the look out for a man....some of the country lads...would often make a fresh...or sexy comment to her...or touch her....but binnie...was well able to stand up for herself...her rebuffs...to these capers...would bring a......go'way ou' that ....ya...feckin...buffer....have a good wank fer yerself.....she was fiery and staunch...and one hell of a great woman...i got to know her much better...in later years....particularly...in the period...of my lost weekend....she was a mighty dancer....and her slow waltz and tango...would make participants ...of ...so you think you can dance...look like amateurs...her ginger rogers antics with ger taphouse...were town hal....masterpieces...the residents of the road too...were so familiar...the bloxams....the holians....the lindsays...the ruannes...the redmonds...pinky prendergasts shop....the creshams and the freynes....martin moylette...who loved to fish for pike at saleeen....frank deasy...and katie ford....the flynns....the powers...i remember the sunday night ....mrs. clarke...mrs.powers mother died.....she died...whilst the family were at the cinema....rigor mortis had set in ....and when she was found...her eyes were wide open...her kness bent....and so ...her legs had to be broken with a sledge...so she could be put in a coffin....other families on the road in those days...were the fallons....sean ....may and pa...mickie...my uncles tommy and wilie ocallaghan....the omaleys....and of course the dean of the road...charlie guthrie.....one of the most popular figures...was jack cassidy....bill and kathleen...there was the devanneys...the reillys....jim reilly was the goods manager at the station....and like a clock ...his walk to the station at 8 am was as regular....as radio eireann coming on at 1 pm.....clarkes field....was a great place of adventure....for myself and jimmy...sammy...ryan...and jimmy murray....we would go to the fort....this eerie....scary....tale haunting....circular fort that stood in the middle of the field........here the banshee could be ...wailing...and crying at night....fairies....danced...and woe...to anyone found in the fort...after midnight.....but me and the lads mentioned...used this as a playground....shooting haws...at each other through....hollow stalks that grew on site.....maryland was another favourite place....here i would often join...sean cunningham...and carmel gavin....do a trapeeze act on a branch that acted as a perfect...trapeeze...i later remember meeting carmel...in camden town...and we talked of our adventures in maryland...maryland....was like the great oaks of jalna...its amin entrance was so grand....with its boulevard....of red stone...lush fields.....and a string...of daffodil clumps...that lined the road to the bourkes house......the house in those days was grand...and often...i would go there to buy a half pint of milk.....of course....at about this time of year way back then...maryland held another activity...its orchard full of a host of many apple varietys....raiding it was part of growing up....in the winter time....its hill that descended to the soccer pitch in winter...was our kloysters...our toboggan run.....the goods at the station ...were hauled around by....horse and cart....docky mcgreavey...mike gannon...frank mcdonnell....and jim ormsby......frank mcdonnells wife....operated ....a pastry shop ....and the solarium restaurant on main street...and on my last year in stgeralds....myself ...tom thomas...michael molloy...paddy smyth...and his brother frank.....would go there for a pot of tea at lunch time.....darkie laden....his wife and martin....tom connoly....would...bring the road to life on a thursday night....with their....barrows....and the call ...and cry....FRESH HERRINS>>>MACKEREL....friday was fish day....and their was nothing nicer than a herring....even though ...you had to watch the bones....you wouldnt want want one of thiose going down your gullet....no sooner had the fish mongers left the road...than mary maughan....wraped in her shawl.....would make an entrance....with a belting out of ...hello patsy fagan....or the valley of knockanure....we didnt need ...tvs....back then....or two and a half men......we ahd our own characters....and if we lacked any news ...we could always go to a local funeral ...or wake....the recently departed was the the greatest....until the final shovel was thrown over his box....and then his misgivings...were paraded....as blatantly as his earlier praises....t.b was rife......and sadly.....the grim sight of an ambulance taking some one away to a sanatorium was far too commom......old pubs ...and people like paki philbin...on spencer street...rattigans....opposite the cinema...where a sandeman sign rattled in the wind...and where every day it was a ritual to jump up and hit it was part of growing up....byrnnes and paddy kings....and the arch and great green door where...garda ward and his family lived....pa gavins......and the bank of ireland.....the pellys...and imperial hotel....and bea hynnes law office...then hanleys and rock square.....and the grand entrance to the convent....the watsons hugged the corner at castle lane....and ducksy mitchell ...had her veg shop on my famous corner.....where i left my mark for years....leonards...and bourkes buthchershop...with its saw dust floor....basquills....pub acroos the street ....and madamme burkes....mrs tirney operated the erris hotel.....and jim rattigan cashed cheques...his motto...no cheques too big..no cheques too small....tons of cash to change them all ....was his mantra....jim langans ...drapery shop was a landmark....althtough we couldnt afford to shop there...bridgie rice...from milebush....could be seen daily ....making her march in form milebush....to work in langans upstairs...along with her colleagues....michael treacy....paddy flynn ...mr. mccarthy....the heverin irish shop....was also from days of once upon a good time...smiler murphy...where i was later to have my first pint in the snug......along with my old friends...paddy moylette ...and pat ludden....the old town has changed over the years....and the old station....which was for many ....the platform of tears for over the years many said goodbye to hearth and kin...from its concrete....the hardships ..of those years...became the anvil on which many.....made castlebar what it is today....no more will you se you going barefoot...which was prt and parcel of growing up in the '40s and '50s....weve come along way from wiping our as on hay or...a corner of the irish press....they dont trade jam jars...or read captain mac...curly wee or gussy goose...ive lived in metropolices in many parts of the world.....but ....none is sweeter than ...the sitting around the range....on mchale road.....drinking a cup of tea in a mug without a handle...and playing twenty five....pull up a chair...a graid....yer welcome...and sure its grand to see ya....thats how it was ...in the town ..i love so well......let me tell ya...about my first pint...

....tog go bog e...

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