Murrintown memories
MICHAEL SILLS, WHO WAS RECENTLY RE-ELECTED PRESIDENT OF THE LONDON WEXFORD ASSOCIATION, SHARES A SPEECH HE MADE TO PAST PUPILS OF MURRINTOWN NATIONAL SCHOOL ON HIS CHILDHOOD MEMORIES OF GROWING UP IN THE VILLAGE IN THE 1950s
GOOD evening ladies and gentleman, or should I say fellow pupils from the class of 1956. It is an honour to be asked by the committee to recall some happenings from my childhood memories of the teachers and pupils of Murrintown National School during the 1950s.
I will also reflect a little on the activities in Murrintown, its people, and characters of that time.
I have so many memories, most of them happy; that I’m sure I could write a book about the place.
I will start with a story about myself. When I was eight years old my father Robbie decided to take me to Croke Park to watch Cork beat Wexford in the 1954 all-Ireland final.
I travelled in the carrier of my father’s bicycle to Wexford North Station, where we caught a train to Dublin.
Everything went well, I saw the match and at the interval I was treated to an apple and a pear. After the match we went to my Aunt, Josie’s house for tea and a bite to eat.
Before we boarded the train back to Wexford my Aunt decided to give my father a large tot of whiskey to send him on his way. I slept most of the way down and when we arrived back at Wexford station I climbed back into the carrier and we proceeded on our way to Murrintown.
However, disaster struck as we rounded the Crescent Quay. I fell out and father continued his journey without me. He had almost cycled to the Talbot Hotel before he missed me.
Whether the whiskey had affected him I do not know. But when he came back there were two ladies trying to console me.
They said to him: ‘Is that your son?’, He replied, ‘I told him to stay awake. Now climb back in and remember to keep your bloody eyes open for the rest of the journey.’
And I’ve been trying to keep them open ever since. That was my memory of the 1954 all-Ireland Final.
In the early 1950s, Murrintown was a very ordinary rural village. Its people helped each other and got on with life the best they could.
Nothing spectacular or exciting ever happened apart from the arrival of electricity to our townland, when we all got rid of our paraffin lamps and candles.
There were a few concerts and dances in the big hall and a Children’s Christmas Concert in the little Hall (Fianna Fail Hall).
I remember Bernie Radford came on stage and sang the Mocking Bird Hill.
Stanley O’Keefe played the music and John Cousins played the tin whistle. McFadden’s travelling Theatre used to come there as well.
But in 1955 along came this dashing young curate, only recently ordained, who swept over Murrintown like a mighty wave.
With the spirit and courage of the men of 1798 in his every vein he was of course the late Father Harry Sinnott, and by God did he transform the place.
And what a great job he did for the youth of Murrintown at that time.
Entry into the league, sports days, field days came to light, and the great battles he had with Father Paddy McDonald and Kilmore on the playing field.
We were the first altar servers to receive breakfast from his housekeeper Hannah after serving Mass, much to the annoyance of our teacher Mrs Cleary, for we used to be late for our first lesson.
His enthusiasm created a great spirit of camaraderie within the parish and he had almost everyone in the parish eating out of his hand.
He had a great committee working with him. People like his right hand man, the late Jimmy Furlong of Dennistown; also the late Pat Quirke, Pat Pender and Christy Kehoe.
Seán O’Reilly and Bernie Radford were also some of his many helpers that who come to mind.
September 1956 is remembered with happiness and sadness in my mind. Wexford beat Cork to win its second all-Ireland Hurling title.
Chipperfield circus came to Wexford Race Course and the late Paddy Nolan taxied us there to see it. However, the parish was in a state of shock and disbelief when news broke that Fr Harry was to be transferred by Bishop Staunton to Wexford Town, after only 19 months here.
A petition from the parishioners to the Bishop to have him stay failed.
It is my belief that certain elders in the parish were the cause of his removal, as they were not prepared to grow accustomed to the rapid changes he was making to the parish.
However, Murrintown’s loss was Wexford’s gain as he went on to found the St Joseph’s youth club.
I will mention the people and characters around the village at the time when we were attending school – John and Mary Fitzhenry and Tommy and Una Nolan, Lar and Elizabeth Walsh, Tom and Evelyn Sills.
The postmen Mark Hayes and Robbie Sills, Nellie Padge, and little Jack Murphy, Whang (Bill) and Dan Devereux, Phil and Mary Berry, Aunty and Jack Kearns.
The Bowers family, gravediggers, bell ringers etc. I remember watching England win the 1966 World Cup at Whang’s house. He had the first television in the village.
I remember my mother sent me over to Phil Berry’s shop to buy a turnover loaf and when she took it out of the bag she discovered a mouse had put a hole in it, and when I took it back to Phil he accused me of being hungry and piercing a hole in it.
While on the subject of mice, I remember a grand old lady who lived in the village, her name was Aunty Kearns.
On occasion my mother would send me over with some eggs and homemade butter. She would never let you go unless you had had a cup of tea and a slice of bread.
I would guarantee you that nine times out of 10 mice would join you at the table, they would do a river dance if you disturbed them by moving the table cloth.
I would be here all night if I was to talk about the characters of the parish.
I will just mention one: the late John Cardiff of Gurteenminogue. He was a grand old man who travelled around on his donkey and cart who loved the company of children. He would often take us for a ride in it. But his trickery with children was to invite them over to his garden to see his lollypop and mints trees where he would pick mints and lollypops from it. What a lovely man.
I attended Murrintown National School when the school was overcrowded and the facilities were barely adequate.
There were no school buses to transport us to school then. Most of us had to walk, and then spare a thought for the long journey the O’Connors had to travel from the mountain.
The teachers were Mrs Cleary and Miss Donohue, and we all have our opinions on their teaching methods.
In my case, I often thought in later years, if only I had listened to Mrs Cleary a little bit more, who knows what I could have achieved?
She often said to me: ‘Michael Sills, if you don’t concentrate and pay attention at lessons you will end up a dunce,’ and how right she was.
My cousin Marie was her favourite pupil in our class and when any of us misbehaved she would always single out Marie as the model pupil she would like us all to be.
Betty Lambert remembers that she did like my golden hair though, and when the sun shone on it in the class room she would come down and stroke it – God?, where has it all disappeared to?
There would be disruptions in the classroom from time to time.
The time I remember the most involved Mrs Cleary’s brand new coat, which she had placed on her chair and was always admiring.
One day, Jack Duggan was placing his pen in the inkwell to get some ink when all of a sudden his hand started to quiver, resulting in the ink splashing all over her coat.
When she discovered the damage to her coat she made enquiries as to who did it.
Someone must have grassed because Jack was banished to the cloakroom – or coal-hole as we used to call it – for the duration of the lesson.
We were not all saints. On other occasions drawing pins were placed on her chair. Other pranks also occurred.
I used to like her singing class. It was the only time in class you got the chance to relax, with her ‘do-re-mi-fa-so-la-ti-do’ and ‘Beir Mi Eo’,
‘Cill Cais’ and ‘Maidrin A Rua’ were other songs that came to mind.
I also remember Nurse Kehoe coming to school and dishing out iron tablets and checking for nits in our hair, or Guard Hartigan coming to give us a lecture on road safety, and we all had to be prim and proper for the school inspector’s visit, with Mrs Cleary telling some pupils not to bother coming to school that day.
We also had to bring a penny to school for the black babies collection.
There were hot summers then and cold winters too.
I remember the tar boiling on the road and us bursting the bubbles with our sandals and being told off by our parents when we came home with tar all over them.
The last tale I tell is coming home in the month of November.
It rained heavily all morning; the roads were flooded and the streams were bursting. At Jack Radford’s there was a little stream.
Toddy Radford, the late Michael Furlong of Boggans Road and myself were walking along together, with Jack Duggan and Michael Radford ahead of us. The boys stopped to look over the bridge at the stream, and as we approached we heard Jack say to Michael: ‘There’s one’ and Michael said: ‘There’s another’.
When we enquired as to what they were looking at, they replied; ‘Fresh herrings’.
When I got home I told my mother that Jack and Michael saw herrings in Jack Radford’s stream. She said; ‘Never mind those two boys, sure they’re always playing tricks on other kids.
I’m delighted to see so many fellow pupils here tonight, and also lets remember those who have gone to their eternal rest – may they rest in peace.
Although the years are catching up with us and the hair is getting scarce on some, and grey on some others, thank God we are alive and kicking.
I am sure as the night goes on there will be a lot of talking and banter as we chat among ourselves and reminisce, with a story and an odd song or two thrown in.
To conclude; I finish by saying that whatever destination life’s travels take you to, always be proud of your townland, its heritage and above all your Irishness.
THE PARISH WAS IN A STATE OF SHOCK AND DISBELIEF WHEN NEWS BROKE THAT FR HARRY [SINNOTT] WAS TO BE TRANSFERRED. A PETITION FROM THE PARISHIONERS TO THE BISHOP TO HAVE HIM STAY FAILED