Dia is Mhuire dióbh go léir a cairde and welcome to my Report.
Welcome to the lovely month of July. It came in breezy and damp but still visitors from other climes think we have the best weather of them all. So let us be grateful for what we have.
The Willie Neenan 5mile road race is a very special event every year and even though he is gone a few years now, he is remembered annually and his love of running is passed on the our young people for them to pass it on again. Walkers, wheelchair people, runners are all invited to take part with prizes given to for each category. That one day gives an unbelievable lift to our own Fr. Paddy O’Byrne. When they were all young he and Willie and lots more young fellows took part in athletics all over the south of Ireland. Means of travel were not as easy as they are now and there was little help from any club or group to plan their itinary. A lad lucky enough to have a bike took another one on the bar. Tyres and tubes left a lot to be desired so a repair kit was a must on every bike. People were expert at fixing punctures, they had to be or they would miss out. It must have been a heartrending decision for young Paddy O Byrne to leave his family home at the West End where he was surrounded by young friends who were as keen on sport as he was to answer God’s call to join the priesthood. There was an older man called Paddy Hennessy living in the street and he was their mentor. They could all meet at his place and thrash out their plans, enjoy recalling their successes and planning to do better the next time when they lost. But join he did and when ordained he was sent to far away Nebraska to mission there. Funnily enough, his older neighbour across the road Fr. Joe Murphy, was also working in Nebraska, but it’s a very big place and they were miles apart. Needless to say he found it very different and his Irish accent was no help. After the first sermon he gave, he said to his congregation that he hoped he hadn’t gone on too long, but they assured him that it wasn’t a problem because they didn’t understand a word he said anyway. He soon settled into his new life, but he never forgot his love for athletics and soon went into the schools where he organised groups of young people, both boys and girls according to their age and ability and got them out on the sports fields to train. He always regarded weight lifting to be a vital part of training and he pushed his subjects to unbelievable heights. Up the very long ladder, step by step. His great boast today is that for one of the girls in his team to beat the Russians. A first. A wonderful first for the lad from Millstreet who played with Willie Neenan and the others down the lawn and wherever they could. Is it any wonder that today when the Willie Neenan 5M Race Day comes round, that he is filled with jizz at the thought of it all and who can blame him.
Even though the weather is changeable our hedges and gardens are full of flowers and blossoms. The wild woodbine is very eye catching at the moment. Somehow it is special. It lights up everybody’s ego. For me at any rate the very word Woodbine congers up a host of memories as I recall the days of yore when cigarettes of that name were on the market. I wonder are they still? They were considered the poor man’s fag and came in a simple pack of six with the top opened. Some shops sold them individually, a lad could go in and buy just one. I can still see the hunger in a fellows face with longing for a ‘drag’. Some would search the ground and finding a butt with still a little bit left in it pick it up and light up. Having grown up in a man’s world I saw this around me all the time. The man who could afford a box of fags bought John Players or Sweet Afton and so on but not the lad who didn’t have the cash. There was a big difference in the way the enjoyed their weed. The lad with the full box, cracked the match and took deep satisfying pulls to get his fire started with gusto. Then held it between his first two fingers and tapped the ash with a certain amount of pride or satisfaction or pleasure while making conversation. Then a little bit from the end he tossed it from him on the ground. The poor lad who could only afford the woodbine would gladly pick it up but, had to hold the precious morsel between his thumb and two first fingers, forming a sort of nest with the red side turned into his palm and the other side barely peeping out for him to take the pull. As a small child I’d watch them and I know they often burned their fingers and lips, gapped teeth all brown and rotting but still seemed to think that it was worth the pain.
The Sweet Afton came in boxes of twenty, boxes that were a lovely green and, trimmed with gold bands. Lovely to look at and we longed to get some when they were empty to stock up our make-believe shops. I loved the smell of cigarettes back then and I love it today. Yet I never smoked. There was a lovely rhyme on the side, with a Scottish flair and written by the Scottish poet Robbie Burns, in praise of their Afton River.
“Flow gently Sweet Afton among thy green Braes,
Flow gently I sing you a song of thy praise.”
See what memories awake when a certain plant comes into bloom.
The Cullen Special Needs Association will hold their annual Vintage Day on July 14th. With all the usual attractions. Vintage display, Peter lane with music, Children’s games a fun day for all . Please make a note of the day July 14th.
Here are the results of this weeks lotto draw which was held on Sunday night. Numbers drawn were 12,14 16,32 and the jackpot was not won. €100 went to Katie O’Callaghan, c/o Tom Carroll. So the €50 sellers prize went to Tom Carroll. €50 went to Christy English c/o Centra. €20 each went to Lisa O’Callaghan c/o Tom Carroll, Fion Saorlaith & Realtaan c/o K,Hickey, Joan Wall c/o Paula, Jennifer Gray, c/o Eily Buckley, Con Lynch c/o T O Brien Paddy Sheahan c/o Tom Carroll. Margaret Buckley c/o Noel Buckley. D. Healy c/o The Bridge Bar. Next draw July 7, Jackpot € 2.400.
Before I go I’d like to welcome some guests from far away Nebraska who are with me this week. They gave me some wonderful holidays in their land in the past and I’m very glad to have them now. So I’ll leave you now and attend to them.
Sinn a bfuil a cáirde, Slán is beannacht Dé libh go léir.
