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...the class of '49.....


Posted by oliver killeen on May 11, 2012 at 04:37:49:

... a cara.....to live for a time close to great minds ....is the best kind of education....and education is what survives ....when what we have learned has been forgotten....i live beside a school .....and every morning from my perch in the crows nest of this high rise concrete structure where i live....i see the children line up for assembly.....and 365 days a year ...i hear the automated bell ring for recess ...and days end....and today as i drove into the parking lot of my concrete jungle...the end of day bell rang.....and as i waited for the garage doors to open....my mind drifted back to my school days in st.patricks national school.i could see bro nicholas ring that school bell in st pats........i sat in my recliner and began to think of days of long ago....this train of thought had beenignited by an emaili got friend in castlebar ...michael feeney......michael emailed me recently letting me know that an old class mate and friend ...mickey garvey was been honoured at a class reunion ....the class of '49 were been celebrated ...and i was invited to attend the function.....i awas a member of this class .....michael feeney had sent me a list of names ....of that famous class....and although the moon has illumined the sky many time s....since that time....i have never forgotten the boys of that class....most of us started out together in mrs.mcdonaghs infant class....and moved through the system together.....in first class ...we were first taught by bro. raphael.....he left us half way through the first year......but before his departure ...sean heydon joined our class....sean's father was none other than siocholoonie supt. richard heydon who was transferred to the myo detachment under the leadership of chief butler.....sean heydon was a quiet lad....smrt and mannered ...he soon paired himself off with kevin oconnell....son of sean oconnell ...engineer and church organist.....when bro raphael left ....we were ....temporarly left in the care of some boys from sixth class....spidge armstrong being one....and joe dunne....but soon we were asigned a regular relief teacher...a mr daly.....mr daly was a light hearted calm even tempered man ...certainly a pleasant breeze to the strict corporal disciplines which were the hallmark of st. patricks.....one of the things that i have never forgotten about mr. daly was his long blackboard pointer ....which i must say he used only for thst purpose....in fact i can never remember him punishing any of us....he made school a pleasure ....and he was rather musical....one of his musical pieces stills rings in my memory....gliding through the meadow..swift its water flows...runs the merry brooklet ...with its silver glows....we boys of that class seemed to remain paired in the same fashion althrough our primary school days....richard king and tom dempsey sat together....i sat with jimmy ryan....john feeney....sat with tommy doherty......other lads in the class were paddy lally..jimmy sweeney...sean nolan........paddy moylette....big pat moylette....sean omaille....tommy moran..danny corcoran....and of course mickey garvey...mickey waters...sean rice ...patsy haugh....vincent mcnicholas....harry farrell..sean gilboy ...peter moran ...fran tonra....in second class we were introduced to bro abban,,,through to sixth class.....not many hours into his first day he introduced us to his flaggan bottle which he had filled daily with water from the water in the monastary garden....the other was a cane from the weeping willows that grew in the front of the moastary....vincent mc neely was appointed as water carrier.....its been over sixty years since we group of lads....played and fought in the school yard.....we pitched marbles....we stacked turf....we swung on the girders of the school sheds.....and i played tarzan.....after michaels email....my mind strayed back to the that class room ....and i began to paint the many face s of those wonderful friends....of once upon a good ...a difficult....painful time...and so much has changed since then....quite a few of those dear boyhood classmates ...and friends have long gone to their heavenly reward....they're in the great class room in the skies.....looking down on those of us that are still around....probably saying we are much better off than us....since 1949 ...the years of life that have passed since june of '49....have not eroded the memories of those youthful days ...but sadly the journeys of those lads has created a void....because the bonds we made so long ago...were shattered as each of us...manufactured our own mosaics....the manuscript of life ...is written in different journals for everyone......the bonds and frienships cultivated in youth...sadly dilute as we reavch for individual directions....some of the lads may know almost every detail of others ...particularly those that decided to remain at home ...and set up lifestyles there....each time i visit castlebar...i run into some of those ....like john feeney...paddy and pat moylette ...sean cunningham....jimmy deere....sean rice....many of the lads left school in '49.....and for me i went on to st.geralds.....and later took the munster from the north wall for liverpool....and a staem train to london.....in london....i ran into mickey garvey and vincent mcneely..mickey waters...when they stayed in a rooming house with annie mcdonagh ...vincent waters ...in caithness road brook green.....at another time i met paddy moylette in harlesden in london.....later and the last time i met mickey garvey was in january '57....in castlebar....in fact it was a night to be remembered ...for he ...paddy moylette ....bridge mcgreal....and myself hired tom tunney to take us to wesport....and in a night to remember gott kicked out of blowser walshes pub....because of a dare mickey garvey put on paddy moylette....fairplay to scalls ...he almost won the bet...but wound up ....comatose ...and floating in the afternoon dinner.....shorly after that night in covey town ....mickey set out for the windy city....where along with staring a family...he became a champion to the many castlebar ...and irish that hit chicago....sadly although i spent alot of time in chicago ...i never met my old friend...mickey.....i did however spend some time with miceal colgan and his wife...and mossy hamrock there......i moved to toronto....chicago is not far away....but we are seoerated by water and boundaries....during the years together in school ....we picked up a few other lads....like paudeen guthrie....sean cunningham....through those harsh times we helped each other we jumped from seat to seat....we took our lumps...we played ...we cried....in the cold days of the forties we huddled ...or at least tried to get warm from the turf fires that lit the grates....we brought in turf...we br0ought turf....we joked with school janitor johnny ruanne......like alice cooper ...we shouted...schools out for summer....some of us sang in the choir....we became devout during ....lent ...and missions....we wondered at how tom dunne could erect the crib....we lined for our first confession outside fr. hopkins confessional.....some of us caddied at the old golf links in milebush.....but all of us moved on with the tides of life...i ponder as i reflect on the possibility of attending this reunion...what secrets we may discover of each other.....we will celebrate in the succeses of each other....we will reminisce ...we will perhaps for a brief moment in time...drift back to those youthful days....and touch the chords of joy we experienced in the scripting of our lifes parchments.....we will look at the possible physical changes ....we will look at each other with grey hair ...full hair ...and no hair at all...and for in night of get together we will embrace that song of yesterday.....and rekindle the spirit we had in the uncertainties of the forties.....and i know most of us will remember ...that box of quality street brother abban bought on the day of our primary cert.....we will remember the last time we ran down the steps and through the gates of st pats.....i will remember walking with my cousin peter murray...mickey waters ...sean rice ...and patsy haugh....through lucan strret...on our way home....i will remember sean rice ...patsy haugh ...pat moylette ...and myself rummaging through the dump at the fair green.....it was in those moments of history ....so many of us carved the monuments of our lives....each print ....so different.....each one of us got on with our own living....each one has a tale to tell....
kahlil gibran wrote.....and the cup he brings .....though it burns your lips ....has been fashioned on the clay which the potter has moistened with his own sacred tears.....
....none of us can make no eternal evaluation of our achievements....the humblest amongst us ...may well be the greatest ....through out life we remain equals.....all struggling ...with life...and its demands....but once upon a time ...we were all daisies in the same field....we made a chain of life ...and its touching what is left of us will once again make a chain.....we have all walked on the stepping stones of our lives...we each have made our own print....what more ...but embrace and enjoy....we have walked ...the road less travelled...
....tpg go bog e......



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