More than a half century has passed! How time flies. I know little about these children, now retired adults! I would welcome your comments!
Reminiscence
Linenhall Square 1935 : last
Of these occupants of the famous Linenhall Square in 1935, eight were no longer resident in the next generation.
Of the rest, you will know these people as well as me.
Illicit Trade on The Mall
It was wartime food shortages, coupons and restrictions that brought the Butter Market to an ignominious close in 1948. That end was expedited by the growing enterprise of
Grief of a Mother
Hughie’s coffin would not fit through the porch door. The window of the little bedroom – his bedroom – had to be removed.
St Bride’s: to sawmills
My first clear memory of St Bride’s was of
Pluffers
When the ‘season of mists and mellow fruitfulness’ drew to a close, we were compelled to seek elsewhere for casual distraction.
Come early December there was little left on the trees and bushes except those berries of minimal food value and which had little attraction even for the birds of the air. Still, we could put them to use.
You are probably aware that a few weeds – such as the wild parsley – have a hollow stalk with a bore not dissimilar to that of the average haw berry. We had a fair share of wilderness about us – today these plants can only be found where man has not encroached on nature’s preserve: the Tow Path and The Rampart spring to mind. My walking companion and I harvested a few recently to make ‘Pluffers’ of them. And for a few moments behaved like children again!
The favourite practice ground was ‘The Matinee’ at one of our three local cinemas [Savoy, Frontier and Imperial] on Saturday mornings or afternoons. With a pluffer or two in one pocket and the other stuffed brimful of berries, we made a scramble for the back seats. (Just a few years later we would have a very different reason to seek out the back seats!). From our vantage point we had an 180˚ field of operation as we deftly, every few seconds, picked off unsuspecting targets.
Our companions in the seats in front of us were now at a distinct disadvantage. If they were to turn around and shoot back, they’d likely choose the wrong target and thus become the subject of concentrated reprisal fire! Also the light emerging from the projector above would identify both them and the Pluffer in their mouths to Aul’ Torchy.
They would usually content themselves with making further trouble for Torchy. That limelight above would cause any object traversing it to blaze up like a lighted match. We weren’t so foolish as to play with matches so: but if we could convince Torchy that the rolled-up balls of paper we flipped with our thumbs were lighted matches, well, that was his problem, wasn’t it?
Everybody’s favourite target, of course, was ‘Torchy’.
It is with a sense of deep remorse and contrition that I now recall how we tortured these poor souls who obviously had a very trying and poorly-paid occupation. I do not remember the name of even one. They were ourselves of just a few years time: desperate for any job, part-time or otherwise. But for now they were The Enemy!
They could see in the dark somewhat better than us, not merely from their advantage of carrying the eponymous torch, but from being better adjusted to the constant gloom in which they worked. Still they were repeatedly bombarded with volleys of ‘peas’ from our home-made ‘pea-shooters’. How to react was their chief dilemma.
Occasionally a companion would be caught red-handed and unceremoniously ejected on to the street. The chorus of whoops and cat-calls in support of this unfortunate ‘victim’ would cause a few minutes of total disruption that spoiled the film for even the serious viewer. Old ‘jook-the-bullets’ Audie Murphy would be forgotten, as a much more exciting drama played out in the cinema!
Then Torchy would resort to an appeal to our better nature. This brought just howls of derision and uncontrollable laughter. Then he’d try identifying and isolating the ‘ring-leaders’ along the end-seats where he could better control them. This required the previous occupants’ co-operation, which was seldom forthcoming.
His best defence was attack.
‘I saw you there, young McCann!’ he’d roar.
‘I know your father! You’re for it when you get home!’
The most successful Torchy was the one who could so identify a greater number of the Pluffer-blowers; the fear of retribution from older brothers, or father or mothers, finally quietened most of us.
At some point, his short-skirted female equivalent would appear with a dainty tray of goodies for sale projecting horizontally from her midriff. It contained drinks, ice-creams, sweets, crisps and the like. We were convinced that management raised the central-heating temperatures just before, in order to boost sales. Mostly the sales were made in the dark with a tiny torch-light helping the girl to make the transaction. One needn’t worry about the quality of the goods for sale (it was usually of the worst kind!) for disappointed customers would readily advertise their annoyance.
‘Yer crisps are RATTEN!!’ was a normal enough reaction, broadcast to the whole cinema – and sure enough, no more crisps were bought!
The film ended, we’d spill on to the streets, blinded by the harsh afternoon sunlight, but oblivious of the danger, we’d veer recklessly across and through the traffic, roundly smacking our own haunches and straining on non-existent reins, trying to control the runaway horses we imagined we were riding.
(To be continued..)
Where are they now?
It was that comment about the young debutante who genuflected before entering the stately pew in the old Florentine caf
I started reading back over the ‘Where are they now?’ lists and adjudged they all deserve to be elevated to Main Pages status before their forthcoming removal from Discussions Threads (.. ‘Nothing lasts for Long’ as Joni Mitchell sings on her supurb ‘Travelogue’ album.)
I have retained most pseudonyms here also. I know some real identities and like to guess at others! Maybe you will enjoy that aspect too! Finally apologies to our regulars (especially those who didn’t use pseudonyms) whose names are not here included. They’re still there on the Discussion Threads!
Horst Jankowski
In the course of our walk in the
We were quick to jot down the following list:
1. The Joy Bells (Sunday evenings)
2. The Chinese Burn (Put out your hand!)
3. The lead drinking cup on a chain in the
4. The Maypole & Shepherds
5. Griskins ( Anderson’s of
6. Curley’s Chip Shop ( Jim Reeves on the jukebox)
7. 12 aniseed balls for a penny (18 if you’re over 60)
8. Goosegams
9. The Chapel Entry
10. Going Round The Hill (St Clare’s Convent)
11. Herrings Alive! ( Bring out your plates)
12. When your lunch was called your ‘piece’
13. Sleeping suits ( What a superfluous crease in the trousers!)
14. Fly papers (The last public hanging in Newry)
15. The Holy Family Confraternity ( ‘Happy We Who Thus United join in cheerful melody’)
16. The men’s aisle and the women’s aisle in churches
17. The Rag Store (
18. The Mascot Annual Christmas Dance ( Even money you win the draw!)
19. The Back of The Dam
20. The Frontier, The
21. Pledge Pins & Fainnes ( What a laugh a minute they were!)
22. Bread poultices (Put out your leg!)
23. The two shilling selection box for Christmas (Join Our Christmas Club)
24. Sunday Nights at the Parochial Hall
(“Do you fancy a mineral?”- “Would that be an occasion of sin?”)
25. Eye patches on spectacles ( “You have a lazy eye!”)
26. Ear muffs (“You have a lazy ear!”)
Meanwhile back in the
27. People who poured their tea from cup to saucer ‘to cool it’
28. Martin, Nesbitt and Irwin (
29. Mystery tours (Three times round the Big Clock with the blinds down)
30. Black diamond patches on sleeves when a close relative died
31. ‘Offerings’ at funerals
32. Awnings outside shops (“We’ll stand in here outta the rain”)
33. Fried Christmas pudding (Close your eyes and you’re a child again)
34. “Dear Santa, please bring me a gun and ‘pooch’ and a packet of caps.”
35. Magnifiers strapped to 12 inch televisions (What next? Lucozade wrappers for colour?)
36. Ronson Variflame lighters (A dragon blast of eyebrow-singeing flame)
37. Dobbin for football foots and ‘tube-and-covers’
38. Black-shawled grandmothers
39. Fathers giving children a ‘spin on the pedal’ of their
40. The white National Dried Milk tin with the navy blue writing
41. A spoonful of malt in the mornings / cod liver oil / concentrated orange juice
42. A spin on the
43. Radio
44. The pig market in
45. People with mottled legs (“Sit well back from the fire!”)
46. Sukie Sunkap Orange (“What was IT made from?”)
47. Navy and fawn duffel coats (Some people are still wearing the originals!)
48. ‘Fawn’ – Now there’s a word you seldom hear these days ….
49. People who wore plastic bags on their heads when it rained
50. A peerless pint of Bass in Tommy Casey’s (Well worth waiting for)
51. Seven O’Clock blades
52. Paris Buns, life-size Wagon Wheels, Snowballs and ‘Slim’
53. Marbles: waterloos, taws, glassies and wee dingers. (“Where did they all go?”)
54. Marble talk 1 (“Knuckle your trig and shoot like a pig!”)
55. Marble talk 2 (“Back slappins doesn’t count. There’s no back in a marley!”)
56. The breadcrumbed skating rink outside McCann’s Bakery when it rained
57. ‘Upstairs model’ bicycles (“Mister, your back wheel’s catching up on your front one!”)
And finally, exam results ….
What a change from today’s 10 A stars, 2 A’s and a B.
Back then, a gardener needed one ‘hoe level’, a farmer … one ‘hay level’,
and a joiner … ‘one spirit level’.
Nyuckraker
The smell of Mansion polish.. Blue bag in the washing.. The Newry Telegraph.. The Frontier Sentinel.. the Sun and The Comet comics.. Radio Fun.. Film Fun.. mothballs in the wardrobe.. Crookes Halibut Oil capsules.. scones made on the griddle on the range.. Guinness XXX.. Monk Ale.. Radio Eireann before school (Whelahan’s of Finglas, Gael Linn, The Walton programme (“The Songs our fathers loved’)..Jimmy O’Dea (‘Hands across the border’).. (O)Callaghans hardware shop with the earth floor.. Timoney’s ice-cream in
Getting paid (peanuts) for gathering raspberries out past Savilbeg on the
Aaah! It all comes back… down the Big Slide on a flattened cardboard box.. burning the ‘banks’ (accidentally, of course).. and don’t forget the other big water-hole the GREEN Motion.. and up the
Cloaky
Trays of day-old chicks twittering loudly as they were loaded on the green UTA bus to
A penny worth of Brandy Balls served in a newspaper cone in Jimmy O’Callaghan’s grocery/confectionery in
a)”Flingers”, primitive frisbies made from lollipop sticks.
Normally there were five lollipop sticks held together by their own tension, but you could make “six-stickers” or even “4-stickers.” Some referred to them as “boomerangs” but they seldom came back of their own volition.
(b) “flying saucers”, the silver caps of milk bottles which could be carefully removed from the bottle and washed free of cream. By holding the rim firmly between first and second fingers and briskly “ficking” them , they could be made to describe graceful trajectories.
(c) “Pixies” , knitted helmets for girls with a phallic projection at the back of the head.
(d) Corduroy “jerkins” with zip fasteners for boys.
(e) Advertisements for “Aer Lingus” on Michael Coyle’s coal delivery cart.
And various
And what about “Knifey-knifey” at great risk to your feet?
Anybody remember playing “Jacks” with 5 wee stones?
Does anyone remember playing with a Hoop. This was a single bicycle wheel propelled and steered along the street using a piece of stick.
Yes. Still got a scar on my right cheek just on the cheekbone where I tripped and hit the wheel rim. Wish I’d used a hula-hoop.
what about this one – getting a wash at the jar tub (sink)
Wasn’t that a ‘jaw box’, Sandra?
Cloaky: You didn’t mention paper planes. What an art! Some with a tail and wings, made with new A4 page: some of the jet type. The former, if thrown with index finger along the top, thumb and second finger beneath, would describe several most graceful loops before making a perfect descent and landing!! I still make them for the grandchildren, who crush them immediately. Another lost art??
Marble Talk 3. ‘Fuggy Annie Dowdle in the Wee Town Hall’.
I haven’t a clue what it means but we used it a lot along with ‘Knuckle your trig and shoot like a pig’.
Here are a few more:
The Bucket (fancy a dance)
The Flo (see you in there for a coke)
The Satellite (where we ate the greasiest chips in the world)
Spricks (how many did you catch)
Guest Teas (whose table are you sitting at)
1 p Dainty (chewing for ages)
C& C Drinks (which flavour was best)
1/- worth of cream from The Shelbourne
Black Jacks.. sherbet powder with liquorice ‘straws’.. liquorice ‘laces’.. gob stoppers.. Five Boys chocolate.. Cadbury’s Chocolate Splendid.. Lemmon’s sweets.. Sloane’s liniment..toffee apples.. Inglis (?)penny biscuits.. the watering trough in Trevor Hill.. the Big Clock!.. the ‘Golden Teapot’ teapot!
Ball bearing carts – looking for spare timber at Fisher’s to make them.
Parochial Hall and Town Hall dances on Friday nights.
Marbles and conkers.
The ghost at the
Bag of broken biscuits from Woolies.
Liquorice pipes.
Brandyball sweets.
Clove Rock sweets.
Treacle Apples.
The watering trough at
Door to door collection of refuse to feed farm animals.
Rope around the trees for swings.
Round pink bubble-gum.
1. The Milkman coming to your Street selling
Buttermilk by the jugs. (I hated the stuff)
2. Tommy Byrne with his Tricycle operated ‘Ice Cream
Buggy’.
3. The Mineral Man selling various flavours of Pop,
usually six were purchased much cheaper than from the
shops.
4. The Breadmens Vans daily deliveries. (Arthur Mc Cann,
Bernard Hughes and Sam Warwick.
5. ‘Big Chief’ white sliced pan bread.
Sliding down
Pocket money from selling sticks round doors for firelighters.
The rent man calling every Friday night.
Tin bath in front of fire on Sat evenings.
1.collecting blackberries and bringing them to Gavigans.Benny Connor once took out his uncles seven cutthroat razors and we used them to cut the berries off the bush
2. School ceilis in the Parochial Hall with John Murphy and a young Susan Mc Cann
3. The bus to the Adelphi in
4. Carnival tents in Camlough, Mayobridge, and other places.
5. Dances in the Osbourne in the Point
6. Rockview Rangers and Barney Fitzpatrick
7. Hot orange in the Florintine
Whitening for gutties (powder storm as you walked)
Creamola Foam (add to water for a flavoured drink)
Standing on Dublin Bridge as the train went past (black faces and coke in your eyes)
Swinging on the structure of Dublin Bridge.(great fun)
Hanging onto the back of the milk lorry for a spin (let go at the right moment)
Throwing duckies into the tide to retrieve the ball (the game must go on)
Walking on the glar in the tide if the duckies didn’t do the job (the game had to go on)
White dog turds on the street?
When an ‘impertinent brat’ got a ‘cuff on the lugs’.
Or a “box on the jaw”
. or got the face ate off him (especially if he had a bad eye in his head)…
Or… You’ll laugh the other side of yer face;
Or… I’ll draw the back of ma hand across yer face;
Or… When one of your mates was eating an apple and you wanted him to share it with with you;
“Leave us yer root”.
.. or got the face ate off him (especially if he had a bad eye in his head)…
____________
I’ll bet you know more…………………
Towpath: WIN
Across the road from ‘the pipe’ was Chivers Factory (the Jam Factory), nowadays called the
WIN Business Park today
It was the sort of place that I would have loved to explore, but we would have got short shift from the men who worked there if we had attempted to venture in through the front gates. Even in the evening time, after work for the day had finished, we still didn’t dare explore the wonders of the Jam Factory for fear of the night watchman.
Scott’s big house was beside the Jam Factory. There was a large orchard to the rear of this house. At certain times of the year we used to try and relieve the good people who lived there of their surplus apples. They were not amused by this and usually resorted to putting the dog after us.
This point on the canal side is officially the end of Canal Quay and becomes the beginning of the towpath. As we travel onwards and around a left hand bend on the towpath we come to the first of the thirteen locks on the inland canal (Not counting Victoria Lock on the ship canal).
This first lock was known to us as Riley’s Lock. Mr. and Mrs. Riley lived here; they had two sons Tommy (who later reared a family in The Meadow) and Pete. Mr Riley was the lockkeeper here in the days when the canal was in commercial use. They had a pretty little side garden bounded by a picket fence. Mrs Riley also had a hen house in this garden and there were always hens wandering around somewhere or other.
Behind the lockkeepers cottage was Brady’s Field. We used to play in this field; strangely enough it was one place that was not classed as out-of-bounds to us.
‘Mum we’re going down to Brady’s field to play.’
‘Ok but mind you stay away from the canal!
And I’ll skin you alive if I hear that you’ve been near that pipe.’
… personal tragedy …
Meadow 1957: Boat is launched
