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Post by rose5mcdonaghtce on Oct 21, 2008 11:25:50 GMT
Talking about the neighbours and friends in the Camp who looked after one another without a big hee hoo, Well Mam died in 67 I was 12 and Monica 16 Dad in '76 Me 21 and Monica 26. Very young to have lost both parents, but we were also very lucky, we had our other Mammy and Daddy, Tom and Gertie Coyle. When Mam was about twenty she met a chap in Thurles who joined the army went to the depot in McDonagh. After basic training he had a days pass, asks Mam to come up for the day. Boards bus in Thurles and arrives in Camp, asks bus conductor what time this evening or to-night she will get a bus back, informs her no bus until to-morrow. Into Powells shop (then Farrells) and asks about cheap lodgings for the night on the Camp is informed she will have to go to Kildare or Newbridge for that. Girl in shopping asks her is she stuck, tells her she works in the Wes and if she comes down and meets Jack Lewis tells him she wants a job he will probably start her in the morning, but as it is live in she can share the room with her for the night, be safe and hold on to her few bob. Now is told she will have to get up at 6.30 and help with the breakfasts but can say near the time for her bus that she does'nt like the job and is going. Down they go and Mam gets the job starting in the morning. This girl Gertie Byrne later Coyle is on her day off, so they spend the afternoon together, Mam not meeting the chap she had come to visit. Next morning up with the birds they start breakfast and getting near the time to say she is quittting Gert is looking at the clock and Mam, Mam mouths not going staying. Mam is on the Camp a fortnight before her parents know she has left the county. They formed a deep and lasting friendship, as did the men they married (Tom said they had no choice) All through Mam's illness while carrying Monica and long months in hospital Gertie and Tom were there. They shared everything ups and downs even us kids it was not yours and ours they had six kids between them. After Mam died they finished the rearing of us with the Da. Gertie and Tom moved from Clarke to Ceannt in 68 needed a bigger house as myself and Mon were always there. Home was McDonagh and Ceannt. Gertie did everything for us that you rely on the Ma for, when we had our babies, special occasions etc., When the Da died in 76 would not have got through it without them. Can you imagine taking on two teenagers, we had our moments, but we always had respect for them. When I had my second child suffered badly with post natal depression, they were there twenty four seven for me. We have since lost Gertie and it was just as bad as when Mam died. Were in the mess some weeks ago myself Tom and John, Tom talking about years ago when they were single, himself, Gertie, Mam and Dad going to dances in the sweatbox and the old gym. John summed it up while we were sitting there, if Mam had been able to get a bus back that day, we probably would not have been sitting there together going over old times. I am not for a moment forgetting, Betty Duhig, Barbara Mullins, Maureen Dillon, Babie Christie who were all so good to us. In fact met Babie Christie at Tom's 80th birthday celebration in March, still fussing over myself and Mon and talking about Mam like she had just died a few months ago. Would just like to say thank you to them all there was'nt a Ma on the Camp that did'nt keep an eye or offer some help. We were extremely lucky as in the sixties a lot of kids who lost parents especially their mother found themselves in Industrial Schools. Rose
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Post by Brendan on Oct 21, 2008 13:49:57 GMT
Wow Rose!
We lived a few doors down from John and the family in Ceannt. Awesome people! And the salt of the earth. Kindness and friendliness emanated from their house. Have to admit, as a kid I was oblivious to your plight and circumstances. Thank you for sharing this wonderful heart-warming story with us. I’m sure there are many like them.
Perhaps you should write a memoir, not so much because you are gifted with the written word, but you have one hell of a story to tell.
Brendan
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Post by caz on Oct 21, 2008 14:52:26 GMT
hi rose just reading your post my daughter is babs christies grand daughter n i remember every sun night going up to mcDermott mess wit jim and babs where they would meet up wit tom n gertie coyle, breda n pat cleary, joe kelly and a few others would come in from newbridge all lovely people who never missed their sunday night out
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Post by Sean Tracey on Oct 21, 2008 22:01:35 GMT
;D Hi All Well what a beautyiful story Rose told there if stories like that could be botteled and sold she would be rich. What else can be said about Mr Coyle and his late Missus warm hearted or what, my late father always spoke highely of Mr Coyle he reaconed that Mr Coyle was one of the best drivers the Army ever produced he always requested him when they would be takeing the Mobile Radio Stations out on test. Mrs Coyle to me was a very warm hearted person . On another note has anyone ever noticed how Women on the Camp of there generation very rearley if ever addressed each other by there Christian names it was always Mrs this or Mrs that, i once asked my mother why this was her reply was I nerver went to school with them. To me thinking back it was because they had Respect for each other something that sadly is lacking in society to day Cheers Sean Tracey.
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Post by tommyhetherington on Oct 22, 2008 19:59:59 GMT
Sean, Very true respect and the basics are gone, I always call the women of that era Mrs because that was the way but even to this day I still do to the likes of Mrs O'Shea, Mrs Sheridan and even Mrs Coyle before her passing and not forgetting Mrs Coughlan Mrs O Brien ( Masie) and Mrs Purcell to name a few. The odd time i might use their first names but it feels odd like calling your own mam by her first name. Respect Tommy H
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Post by tommyhetherington on Oct 22, 2008 20:02:47 GMT
Rose, Great stuff its easy get caught up in your stories and its like being there Cheers Tommy H
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Post by Aisling on Oct 22, 2008 22:03:58 GMT
Hi Sean and Tommy,
It's very true what you said about calling the older generation, if that's the right term to use, by their first name. It doesn't seem right unless you know them very well.
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Post by Aisling on Oct 22, 2008 22:15:57 GMT
; ;D Well said Rose you know my eldest sister Carmal worked with him also, as for Pat Dwyer as you know he was also and still is my bert mate after nearley forty Years or more .I still go and visit him every year . He and his family now live in Waterford. We phone each other at least twice a week ,or use e-mail to send each other stuff like photos etc . Cheers Sean Tracey Was as happy as pig in the proverbial s..t that year in the tech. Pat making it very memorable with his wit and sense of humour, was a gentleman always to us girls, was going to go into journalism, last time I was talking to him he was with Customs. Pat was very good at doing voices, Paddy Costigans wife Tereasa taught the course. making her initials T C. When doing speed tests at shorthand she would be going a mile a minute, Pat would hail " Hold on there TC" just like Benny the cat in Top Cat she would find it just as amusing as us and ask him to repeat it don't think we ever finished a speed test, though we all passed the course with flying honours. Happy Days. Hiya Rose, Was just reading one of your posting. You should put that posting about Teresa Costigan in under Post Primary School. So that people if they were only following the schools, would get enjoyment from it too. I did the secretarial course many years ago, 1993/ 1994 and had the pleasure of having Mrs. Costigan as my teacher. You probably learned to type on the old manual typewriters like me. It is standing to us now. Ha. Aisling
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Post by guest on Oct 24, 2008 22:30:21 GMT
Hi, I remember as a kid, Halloween on the Curragh was a magical time. For weeks leading up to the night we kids would be busy gathering bits and pieces for the bonfire. Each barracks had its own bonfire. On the night the place would be crawling with kids when we would knocked on a door we would all sing out in unison penny for the poor old pookie...Please excuse my spelling. What I would like to know what is pookie night is like now on the Curragh now.
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Post by rose5mcdonaghtce on Oct 29, 2008 10:52:06 GMT
My job within the household was to do the messages on a saturday morning. We did'nt run errands or go shopping in those days it was always referred to as the messages. My first port of call would be Orfords Butchers run by Peter Hade, and every Saturday morning without fail we fell out and had the exact same row. I would arrive, there was a big concrete step up to the door, up on to that, could see that he could see me, turn knob, put one foot on bottom panel and hold on to little bars that ran across the glass in the top part of the door, swing in, door banged off the counter, Peter letting on to get a fright. He would make a big deal of how I would give him a heart attack and kill him one of these days, me knowing that he had seen me coming would be annoyed. He would then say to whoever was in the shop "look at the head on young Smith she's like a wicked chicken" would always reply " the next time you say that to me I'm going to tell my Da and he will come down here and knock your block off " Peter would always respond with " he would'nt knock snow off a rope " offence taken straight away and the row would begin in earnest. Would inform him that my Da was a Sgt. in the Depot that he pulled tug-of-war for the army and that Peter would be sorry when he came after him. "If he comes down here I'll make mince meat of him, Cavan men and especially ones that joined the Army were good for nothing" I would defend to the last each of us trying to have the last word. I usually waited until all the Mammies were served. Would stand into the window and jump on to the floor and make skid marks in the sawdust which was about 2 inches deep. Peter would tell me to get out of the window as I might fall through it, or break my neck falling on to the floor. I won't I'll be alright, then he would say to whatever customers were there "its the wicked chicken in her she's trying to fly" and so the banter would start all over again. Would decide to threaten him with the Mammy tell him she would get her meat in Conlans, that does'nt bother me he would say they don't serve wicked chickens in there so you'll have to stay coming here. He would eventually get together whatever was on the note and take the money from the purse, when he opened the drawer in the counter he would take a ten bob note out leave it on the counter and say to me if you can say: Whiskey when your sick makes you well and Whiskey when your well makes you sick, you can have this. Would use every different version of it I could, but according to Peter it was always wrong. I used to practise it from week to week to no avail. On preparing to leave he would always give me tuppence to go into Feeleys and get something "to keep that big gob busy on the way home" I would say I did'nt have a big gob, Peter would say maybe not but theres a hell of a big hinge on it. On leaving the shop would always remind him to hide as I was definitely going to tell the Da today and he would get him on his way to his plot. Plot me eye he's down the plains with a blonde and tells your mother he's going to the plot, would have a total hissy fit on the step then, would tell him I was going to Maginns next and I was glad as Pat Maginn always says good morning Rosemary what can I do for you when I go in, Peter would tell me that's because he's afraid of wicked chickens. When I would get home with the meat Mam would ask how I got on in the Butchers, would tell her I was sick of going in there as Peter Hade was always fighting with me, she would laugh and say I'm sure you gave as good as you got obviously knew that he always tried to get a rise out of me. Peter had only one daughter Emma she became a nun and she taught me in the Secondary in Newbridge.
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Post by maggie on Oct 29, 2008 19:29:02 GMT
Hello rose,
Have you ever considered putting together a social history of the Curragh; it would be a best seller. I can’t get over your memory, it’s so accurate you bring to life all the memories which I have locked away in my mind, the minute I start to read one of your stories all the memories come flooding back.
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Post by rose5mcdonaghtce on Nov 4, 2008 22:06:54 GMT
In McDonagh the toilet was situated at the rear of the house, out the back door under an open plan type porch and into the loo. Whatever Architect designed the married quarters was not thinking of cold nights or children who were afraid of the dark when he decided where to place the powder rooms in all of the quarters never mind McDonagh, but at least each house had its own convenience no sharing. As a result of his I won't say or her design as I doubt very much there were many women architects the time the blue prints were being drawn up. The situation of said convenience resulted in most or all I would say houses bringing a bucket upstairs at night for wee emergencies. Now every neighbours toilet I used would have the bucket parked beside the toilet during daylight hours, with a drop of disinfectant in the bottom to keep things fresh. About once a year, home from school and the Ma would announce that she wanted me to go down to Danny Dempsey to the stores and get her a few light bulbs and maybe a new head for the deck brush etc., while she would be giving the list I would be doing a small novena that she would not decide to order a new bucket. Now I knew everyone had the bucket on the landing and that they probably knew we had one, just did not want to confirm it for them. I suppose I was a bit of a snob when it came to toileting. When the list would be completed sheer delight no mention of the bucket, but just as I would be going out the door would hear sure you might as well get a new bucket while your at it, put the bulbs in you won't break them then. Talk about planning a course of action, now the stores were just below the Wet Canteen (Nancy's) and we lived at the end of McDonagh, the errand should not have taken any more than ten minutes, could take me anything up to an hour and a half depending on what route I had to take. Would leave the house go down to the bottom of the bank, make sure nobody was playing on the beds, around and up and into the stores, if there was only Danny in there, anyone else, would have to wait until they were gone. In I would go give him the list and ask for the bucket was quietly as possible. The bucket would be white with the blue rim and a lid on it, now at the time I thought this bucket was the size of a barrell, snow white so no chance of it being missed. Danny would place all in the bucket and be singing it praises nothing will get broken on your Mammy in that, me there hating the sight of it. Usually decided to take the route home via the hospital this entailed climbing the gate that led into the morgue (dead house) which meant throwing the bucket and its contents over first as it was a very high gate, around by the turf shed sometimes through it, up to the railings might make it to the ashbins without been seen wait there until the coast was clear and then the thirty second dash up the block to the gate. Usually got home with half of the bulbs broken, dress torn or the hem hanging off, covered in turf mould, coal dust and the bucket looking like it was second hand. When Pat Maginn opened the Supermarket where Youngs Chemist used to be, Mam and Eileen Walker were up for a look, myself and Nuala with them, Pat is following them around showing them all the new products he had for sale, they are looking at packets of dried cabbage made by Erins foods and going on about how the young ones would'nt wash a vegetable and relaying all of this to Pat, when Eileen says to Mam "if you were going to eat that you'd want two buckets on the landing" to which Mam replies "now that you mention the bucket Eileen we could do with a new one" all of this on front of Pat Maginn and a packed shop wanted the ground to open up and swallow me. All the work I put into hiding the fact that we had a bucket on the landing, risking life and limb, the PA's catching me in the turf shed and there they were shouting it from the roof tops.
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Post by tommyhetherington on Nov 4, 2008 23:26:04 GMT
Rose, Your a gem I have just covered the ground through the hospital along with you great stuff hard going getting over the fences.
Tommy H
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Post by maggi on Nov 5, 2008 11:57:12 GMT
Does any one remember when the petrol pumps were installed out side the garrison in McDonagh I think it would have been the late sixties. Come the evening when the work men had gone home and the garrison closed it became a playing ground for all us kids, I can remember claiming down thorough the wood planks which were put there to keep us out , thinking back now it was extremely dangerous.
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Post by Richard Reade on Nov 7, 2008 16:29:06 GMT
My fondest memories of the Curragh, where would I even begin, just reading through the last six pages and my mind is racing: how about this for a mixed bag of memories:
Playing Star Trek, Horse of the year show (where you were the horse and the rider!), Serving 7:30 Mass on a winter morning and walking up behind all the ladies who used to get the bus from Powells. The Tar Yard, Public Swimming Sessions (and that corrugated grey door). Gymnastics. Stealing down to get a shower in the new Gym. Bath night on Saturday night. The Rangers (and the chant when running up Biddy Dobbyns Hill). Gangs were always great too and I can remember the excitement of joining Ceannt Gang (cause we lived on O higgins Rd (or was it Terrace)) and only had eight houses O'Sheas, Reades, Treacy's, Sparrows, Bartleys, O'Tooles, Thomas's and Kellys god how I loved those days, playing on the plains of the Curragh not a care in the world. The other thing I miss of course was the undying smell of Peat Fires.
You were never without a friend on the Curragh, the one thing I can always remember was the women - the mammies what great and strong women they were. Everyone knew everyone and when a problem arose, it was always the women who resolved any issue I can also remember that you never messed around with these Mothers - I can remember once we had a babysitter (I think it was probably the first time in years me ma and da went out) anyway this young one decided to go out with her fella after we were all in bed and for some reason one of us woke up and started to call her. Of course when we realised we were home alone we were in floods of tears and the woman next door (Ma Treacy god I loved that woman) took us in to her house, put us sitting by the range and there we stayed - when the young one arrived back (maybe an hour later) she got short shift from Ma T and legged it from that day forth she was our hero and a great neighbour. Where I live now I dont even know who lives beside me - changed times indeed
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