Remembering the Cork Airport balcony where you could watch planes go by

THOMPSON’S Bakery has featured in many of our Throwback Thursdays, and quite rightly too, since it played so large a part in our lives here in Cork.

Whether you were a housewife needing to buy the day’s bread, or a child looking longingly at the confections in the window, Thompson’s was an integral part of the city’s existence.

Tim Cagney sent us a very moving story about one particular Thompson’s employee:

“Many years ago, in Thompson’s Bakery, there worked a baker called Michael O’Keefe, known to all and sundry as Micka. He was a great friend of my late father.”

Micka, says Tim, never married, and the love of his life was opera. 

“He lived alone - I never knew where - and owned a sizable collection of classical records. He would often invite Dad to his humble abode, to listen to the music. Whilst Dad was not particularly musical, he was happy to provide Micka with company.

“I remember that, back in the 1960s, Micka was one of the first to acquire the new-fangled ‘phenomenon’ of stereo sound. Dad was extremely impressed with this innovation, and told me all about it.

“Micka also possessed a reel-to-reel tape recorder, which he would sometimes bring to our house on Gardiners Hill, and amuse us by letting us record our voices on it.

“Micka never drove, so he had to swag the machine from wherever he lived all the way to our house.

“On Sundays, Micka - assisted by Dad - used to operate a newspaper-stall outside St Mary’s Church, on Pope’s Quay. They sold Catholic publications, such as The Catholic Herald, The Universe and the Messenger, to mention just three. My younger brother (Con) and I were eventually roped-in to help with this operation.

“When trading ceased, the stall - which was, essentially a hut, mounted on wheels - would be pushed by Dad and Micka to a yard at the side of the church, with Con and myself happily riding inside.”

In those days, emphasises Tim, bread was nothing like it is today.

“The loaves were unsliced, with thick, crunchy crusts. It was not unknown for children, on their way home from the shops, to pinch a corner from the loaf, for an early sample.

“Right next to our house was a very small shop, run by the Healy sisters, Eithne and Patty. The bread bought there would often still be warm, and would be referred to as ‘bleeding-fresh’. However, there was always a word of caution from our mother. She deemed that such bread was too fresh to eat, and feared it would congeal into an indigestible mass in your stomach, if prematurely consumed.

“Micka used to lend weight to this theory, saying that bread should best be eaten ‘one day old’. It need hardly be said, of course, that such sage advice was never heeded by Con or myself, as the delights of the ‘bleeding-fresh’ confection were nigh on impossible to resist.”

Tim himself moved to Dublin in 1973. 

“One day, on one of my visits back to Gardiners Hill, I found Dad standing in the kitchen. He told me that they had just returned from ‘burying poor old Micka’. He had tears in his eyes. I’m afraid I don’t remember the year, but Dad himself died in 1986, so it was somewhere in between.

“Rest in Peace, Micka.”

Thank-you so much for sending us that memory of Michael O’Keeffe, Tim. A man who lived a quietly good life and was liked by all. People like that were the backbone of Cork.

Tony Finn writes to thank us for a great Throwback Thursday on the topic “When it cost a month’s wages to fly to London”.

He says it reminded him of his own very first flight, when he was just 16.

“My family was emigrating to Cardiff, and my dad had gone ahead to get a job there, staying with my aunt and her family.

“In July, 1965, I flew from Cork to join him, while my mother and sister travelled to Wales by boat a few weeks later.

“I can’t recall exactly why I was going earlier, but I think it was connected with getting me signed up for a school in time for the new school year.

“We got to the airport (the old terminal in Cork) about an hour before the flight was due to take off. I had very mixed emotions saying goodbye to my mother and sister at the airport, and to Cork, but I was also a bit excited about the new adventure that lay ahead in Wales.

“I was also worried about how I was going to collect my Intermediate Certificate from Colaiste Chriost Ri, something I never managed to do; I wonder if it is now too late?”

Anybody in authority at the Colaiste, do please answer. Tony would really like that Inter Cert to display on his wall!

Tony continues: “I flew on a Cambrian Airways DC3 (above), a plane where you boarded at the front end and walked downhill to your seat!

“The flight was very different from a flight today, as the propeller-driven aircraft could take no more than 32 passengers, so it was pretty small.

“Passengers received a small meal on the flight, and it took about an hour and a half to get to Rhoose Glamorgan Airport (now Cardiff International) where my Dad and my aunt and uncle picked me up without too much bother.

“It took under four hours in total to get from my home at Ballinlough in Cork to my aunt’s house in Cardiff. A similar flight from Cork to Cardiff today (if you could get one) would probably take about eight hours door-to-door.”

And Tony also remembers the old West London Air terminal mentioned in that previous article.

“My Dad and I went there once to collect my aunt, who had come on a flight from Cork to visit us in London. We collected her at Cromwell Road and took her into the Tube system, and while we were waiting for the train to arrive, my aunt asked us what the big holes at each end of the platform were. My dad told her that they had very big rats in London and that they lived in the holes, scaring her half to death!

“The other week, I went to collect some of my family at Gatwick Airport. It was the day that Queen Elizabeth died and the air corridors over the UK and Ireland were more or less cleared of traffic to allow the Royal family to fly into and out of Scotland, with huge delays all round.

“My family members, who were supposed to arrive at the Gatwick North Terminal around 9pm in the evening, arrived in at 11.45pm, and the plane went to the South Terminal, so they had to catch a train to the North Terminal to meet up with me as I had used the car park there.

“I had been prepared for flight delays so I got to Gatwick at just after 10pm. There were a lot of tired people sitting or standing around in the terminal building, some waiting to board delayed flights and others, like me, collecting incoming passengers, but the terminal had more or less shut down for the night so people couldn’t even get a cup of coffee while they waited.

“Finally, when I met up with the family, we returned to my car to be charged £17 for two hours’ parking! I’m afraid that flying is now an expensive endurance and not much of a pleasure for anyone any more.”

Too true, Tony!

And Mr Finn can add three more now-defunct airlines to our lost airlines list:

“Braniff International Airways, Seaboard and Western Airlines, and Flying Tiger Airways; a brilliant name for an airline which is now part of FedEx.”

Indeed, The Flying Tigers was the very first scheduled cargo airline in the U.S, and did yeoman service during the Cold War on military charters, before being bought out by Federal Express in 1988.

And John Harley also remembers the West London Air Terminal on Cromwell Road.

“As far as I recall, Aer Lingus and El Al (Israeli Airlines) had a joint terminal on the Cromwell Road with the same service in the late ’60s and early ’70s.

“I lived in London, and used it to fly home to Cork. It was interesting because both airlines were targets for terrorist attacks!”

Thanks for that little nugget of information, John. Must have made the trip back to see the folks a bit worrying?

Michael O’Riordan wrote to confirm another detail from that popular piece on flying and airports.

“There certainly was a viewing balcony at the airport and here’s a photo to prove it (above). My good friend John and I decided that we wanted to see the ‘City of Light’ and we flew to Paris for an 11-day holiday. First time flying, first time in France - a trip to remember.”

How did they get on with that first big trip, and what made them think of something so adventurous?

“We had, as they used to say in those days, a ball, and with a mini-budget. The idea first came to me from a notice on a school board. As apprentices, we still had to attend classes in a Technical School, which was the only reason that I was still attending ‘school’ in my late teens.

“Anyway, Aer Lingus had this ad for student flights to Paris for £17 - I told my mother and she said, ‘Why don’t you go’ and that started me off. My good friend John also decided that he’d go and so we made out plans together.

“There was a small catch in that John was already working full-time and so could not avail of the student ticket. To ensure that we flew together, I decided to forgo the student ticket and we both got the same price tickets: I don’t remember the cost but it couldn’t have been extraordinary as even on apprentice wages I could still afford it.

“Our pocket money though was fairly limited, but that made it more fun - making ends meet. We saw all of the sights [that were free]. A major disappointment was not being able to see the Bastille but we were about 176 years too late for that.

“Another disappointment was that it was August and Paris was empty of locals and full of tourists so any chance that we had of meeting French girls was nil.

“We flew direct from Cork to Le Bourget but coming home our flights took us through London. Both of our small duffle bags [the original ones not like the pretty things available today] were delayed in London [I don’t remember which airport] so we walked home with our hands ‘hanging to us’ and only our passports to show that we had been to Paris!”

But what memories, Michael, what memories!

Let’s hear from the rest of you with some great memories of the past! Email jokerrigan1@gmail.com or leave a comment on our Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/echolivecork