FROM THE COLLAGE OF MEMORIES

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FROM THE COLLAGE OF MEMORIES

Posted by oliver killeen on July 24, 2013 at 10:35:52:

a cara......its been some time since i penned a snipit from my warehouse of memories ....of once upon a time in castlebar.....memory resembles a library in alphabetical disorder.....and with no collected works by anyone ....but the ramblings of the prints of the author...............suddenly memories come back to me ...like the taste of rashers and eggs on sunday mornings...or mutton and peas of the ould sunday dinner....or the lining up at the pit outside the cinema on sunday afternoons......they stand out and tease the mind in warm memories......and the then the well of other memories flow to the front to be revisited and recounted.......such was today as i sat to pen some events of time long ago .........and as i drafted my thoughts they were diverted to other events in the winding road of my youth......three events in local happenings changed the kaleisescope......the the colors of my memories were changed as quickly as the turning of the shaft of my kaleidescopic mosaic...........i read with sadness of the death of some individuals ....of strong local stamp and character........the news of the death of ester waters .....triggered huge cascading thoughts.......johnny waters ....esters father was a local tailor.....a man of character and skill......i remember the waters well ....they lived originally on lucan street......mickey was a classmate .....vincent his brother ....maureen ....ester ...and eamon.......they arrived on mchale road in the late '40s early 50s to take over occupancy of the house of uncle tommy ocallaghan....who moved to mons terrace........i remember the event well as if it were yesterday.......tommy ocallaghan had a privet hedge as green as the words of the song .......when he was leaving mchale road he offered the hedge to my father.....one friday evening we went to the house and dug up the hedge and trasplanted it in our house at 10 mchale road..........sadly it never regained its growth or lustre in its new ground but remained there for as long as i remember in gaps of hedge.........the waters family moved into the road and johnny promoted his suit lengths and skill in the front room window.....mickey and i remained friends and i had small contact with ester.....oh eventually she worked in the bacon factory.......and later moved to london.......it was in london our friendship was forged on netherwood road in shepherds bush.........i lived on goldhawk road ....and mickey and i restablished the friendship of our youth ....in fact mickey is godfather to one of my sons.......most friday nights my wife mary and i would go to mickeys place and drink and sing.....oh those friday nights ....with carmel ainsworth ...ester ....later we would head to the richmond pub on shepherds bush road.......ester was a good friend to my wife mary and often she came to our place.....we'd reminisce of times on the road.......i still see ester on chiswick high road......she had a sunburst smile that made one break out in smile......it was infectuous......the next sad event that altered the type of my pen was the news of the death of elizabeth and dermot lally.........the lally family were a town institution........john and mrs lally were fixtures at the last mass on sundays ......but back in the olden days they lived in moneen.....the moneen road was but a rambling road that meandered from the T cross at the factory ....the old quarry.....was but a pile of rock and gravel.......the mental hospital farm fields bordered one side of the road ........as the road rambled to the cottages....that housed many of my old classmates.....sean rice....patsy haugh.....austin gannon.....and just a house or more up the lallys......i remember when the lallys bought their hillman minx.....a car of luxury in those days...and george was the appointed chauffeur........tom lally was one of my dearest friends .....as we often took to the stage in the many talent events of the travelling shows..........i never had much contact with the lallys until on my lost weekend we anviled a bond in the shrine that was john kennys pub......here on a saturday night .....in the fog and mist of my inebrited brain ...each and every saturday night ....the lally entourage would enter the hallowed shrine........there was mrs lally ....john her husband ....tom ....and young dermot........after a few ports .....mrs lally would be promoted to sign......her loyal sons would demand ciunas ..........dermot would prompt the regulars .....sssshhhhhhh....as mrs lally would give a rousing vwersion ....of i'd rather die young than grow old without you..........the lally gangwould ring the hpouse in applause as tommy would later ....give us his dulcet tones in ......matt momroes ....walk away.........maybe at about 230 am wed abandon kennys......and head to st anthonys ...the lally residence in blackfort........here i often met elizabeth ...and certainly got to know dermot.......a night in lallys was a must.......just yesterday i read of the death of joe guthrie......my cousin....my friend and although we spent little time together we certainly forged a strong bond in my ....lost wekend as we worked together on the moy drainage and town river.....joe was son of frank guthrie.....the town projectionist.....but in other times he worked for joe ...b.dad mcging...in the tombstone works on mchale road........frank was a good friend and was married to molly callaghan my cousin......molly brought me to my first matinee in the cinema.....and later we enjoyed many nights in mitchells pub.........yes these events altered the style of my first post in some time....but rekindled the store house of memories of life in castlebar.....long before the new estates ....and changes .......these were the days ......when a pint .....a package of woodbine ...and a box of matches ...in the words of mr watson the chimney sweep .....killed the bob......when frank beckett fed the pidgeons every morning outside his shop......sgt patsy ....{fagan} egan patrolled the streets......it was a time when the town was a theatre of characters that ignited amusement drama and stamp.............the past the beautiful past striped with sunshine ....grey with mist.....childish ....blooming with hidden joy ....and bruised with sweet sorrow....ah ....if i could only but resuurect one hour of that time........one hour alone........ahhh but which one.......lobnely i wamder through scenes of my childhood ....they bring back to memory the happy days of yore....gone are the old folk the house stands deserted ........no light in the window no welcome at the door........another time the story that was drafted ........events lately have revealed a new imaged castlebar.......not as pleasant or warm as wearing a suit two sizes too big......anois ....tog go bog e......

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