Merries at the Mardyke... all the fun of the fair

TIM Cagney was delighted with the further detail on Fred O’Dwyer, a former teacher of art at Christians, whom we mentioned in Throwback Thursday a few weeks back.

“Freddie Dwyer and Fred O’Dwyer have to be one and the same person,” he said. “I had a pal called George O’Mahony, who lived on Montpellier Terrace. Their front garden descended to Summerhill, across the road to where your parental home was located, Jo.

“George’s dad - Jimmy - was a member of an art circle with Freddie and one or two others, and they used to have weekly painting sessions in a loft over the garage.

“One of their number was also called Jimmy, one of a family called Neff, who made religious statues.

“Jimmy (Neff) was a most gifted painter - I actually still have a portrait of myself, executed by him when I was about 22. It languished - like an old ‘lost master’ - in George’s loft for decades, until he resurrected it a few years ago, and let me have it.

“Unfortunately, it had become partially damaged, and the signature of the artist was lost. However, I retrieved what I could, and then had it framed. It now hangs in my ‘man-cave’.”

And, courteously, Tim sends us a shot of that portrait here showing the determined young man he was then.

“A little bit of startling coincidence about 4, Empress Villas, where Miss Cahill had her dame school, also mentioned in a recent Throwback Thursday,” Tim adds. “My wife once lived there! She wasn’t my wife at the time, of course - she was working in a broker’s office on the Mall - Bain O’Donnell Ltd. I was working there, too.”

This would have been after Miss Cahill’s passing, when the house was presumably transformed into apartments handy for the city.

“At that time,” continues Tim of his wife, “we were both romantically involved with other people. Margaret shared a flat - on the upper floor of No.4 - with another girl. In 1974, she ‘emigrated’ to Dublin, to work at PMPA - I had done exactly the same thing, a year earlier.

“We were, by then, both free of our former romantic entanglements, and we started ‘doing a line’ in September, 1974. Three years later, we got married.

“A month ago - October 7, 2022 - marked our 45th wedding anniversary!”

Well done, Tim and thank-you for sharing your story.

Tom Jones has written from Florida - don’t we get around on EchoLive.ie? - to say how delighted he was to read other readers’ memories of the Sunday train excursions to Youghal in our recent columns.

“The experience truly was indelible in the zeitgeist of our times,” said Tom. “I was particularly enraptured by the lady, bless her heart, who took the time to write and tell of her own recollections, as they confirmed to me that we indeed brought our own tea, milk, sugar, and sandwiches, cups, spoons, etc.

“As I also recall, it was only boiled water we purchased for our picnic back in those tough times, Fado, Fado.

“Yet, along with such joyful remembrances is the mention by many of The Merries, which leads me to share with you and your readers these recollections of my own.”

Those were the magical days and nights when the Merries actually came to Cork, that amongst other events, to some degree, became markers to the chapters of our lives.

“Those of us of a certain vintage may recall the summertimes of yore when they rolled into town and encamped in a field next to the cricket grounds up The Dyke,” added Tom.

“At that time, in the Cork of the 1950s and ’60s, the Mardyke still had an exposed stream that ran alongside the road. There were short, maybe 3ft in height, iron poles with three strands of wire running between them, protecting one from falling in, with trees and hedges along the way. The stream ran from I believe what was then the Malting House for the Cork Distilleries, at the city end, all the way to Fitzgerald’s Park.

“I wonder if your marvellous paper has anywhere a picture of the Mardyke as it looked back then?”

Tom continues: “Down the Dyke headed the eager kids of the city, rushed through corrugated iron gates, and across the bridge to enter the enchanted site.

“The stalls generally consisted of games, such as throwing a rubber ring over a cone, or attempting to land a ball into a hole in a board. Then there was the inevitable ball or bag to knock down objects, and other types of games of chance.

“The most popular choice of all of course for our mothers, who brought us there in the early years, was buying tickets for the Spinning Wheel of Fortune, where more practical prizes such as kitchen utensils and various other useful articles could be won.”

(Oh, do you remember that heart-rending story by Patrick O’Donovan which we featured back on October 6? That was at the Merries in Crosshaven, and he had got the winning ticket for the Wheel of Fortune. Thrilled beyond reason, how dreadful was his disappointment when he ended up with a steamer pot for potatoes!)

For Tom Jones on the Mardyke, however, the biggest attractions were undoubtedly the gaily-painted horses on the merry go round, and the swing boats which described their terrifying arcs high overhead. Possessing the pennies for a ride on one or the other was the highlight of the visit.

“The swing boats were equipped with a rope tied to an eyelet on a beam overhead, on which you pulled to propel you to a greater height, hence a greater swing. The older kids would sometimes pull so hard, we were terrified we would spill out!

“Later, as we grew a little older, and would go there with friends, the Chair O Planes became the thrill of choice. Spinning high in the air, we would grab the chains of another chair, from which they were suspended, then kick off from that with our feet for a little bit of extra excitement!”

Above all, though, in Tom’s memories, were the noise and excitement of the Bumper Cars. “Just to watch the sparks fly from the arc created between the electrified metal grid overhead and the contact which protruded from the top of an insulated pole rising from the car itself was a thrill. And the excitement and total chaos, where many a time life and limb were risked just to capture a car as they changed riders. You simply stood there watching at the rail, waiting like a boxer for the bell to sound for the next round. Actually, a bell did signify when that session was up.

“Then you rushed on to the floor, ready and eager to jump into a car before the person occupying it even had a chance to stand up. Sometimes, in doing this, you would end up frustrated when the person sitting in the car decided that they were going to stay for another round.”

It seems strange today, but Tom does not recall any such thing as a queue for tickets back then.

“They collected the money as you sat in the cars. Actually, a guy hopped from car to car, standing on the rubber rim, collecting the fare, doing so as you rushed round, avoided, and crashed into other cars! So much for safety concerns in that long-ago and faraway place in time.”

Mr Jones cannot, however, recall a pellet gun or shooting gallery of any type involved with the fairgrounds back then. “Maybe they were afraid we would lose an eye in our enthusiasm?”

Once into the pre-teens, the roulette wheel became a popular game for Tom and his pals, as they carefully placed a wager of a penny or two.

“Generally on Black, which was even money, with Red at 2 to 1 odds, and Yellow being high risk/high gain at 8 to 1 odds for the more adventurous. Somehow it always ended up in the stallholder’s favour, though, no matter how many pennies you ventured!”

And do you remember the Penny Falls, Tom, where you could roll a coin down a channel and maybe - just maybe - nudge a few pennies off the other end to recoup your losses?

The Merries up the Dyke later also became a ritual meeting/courting/getting together venue of sorts as they entered the tender years, recalls Tom.

“Then, having made a connection, we walked back down the Mardyke towards Sheares Street with the girls, chatting, laughing, talking, with all the time in the world before us. We didn’t know it then, but the next stage of our life and development was waiting round the corner and coming on fast.”

Thank-you for those lovely memories, Tom. We can almost get the sharp tang of the bumpers and hear the shrieks of excitement from the swing boats.

Now here is something really amazing to finish with. We keep seeing on this page how the memories of one correspondent strike a chord somewhere else, and often lead to long-lost friendships being discovered, childhood recollections shared all over again.

Remember Noel Dillon’s stories of his young days at Graball Bay, and his friend who went away to join the RAF? And how that friend’s son got in touch so many years later because of this Throwback Thursday page? There have been so many more like that. Here is one a little bit different, though.

You will recall that a couple of weeks back we shared Tony Finn’s story of his very first flight from Cork, back in 1965, when he went ahead of his family emigrating to the UK. He wrote: “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?”

Well, you won’t believe this, but I got a call from Padraig Mac an Ri, current principal at Colaiste Chriost Ri. He had read that story, and went straight to the school archives, there to burrow determinedly until - yes, he found it!

He found Tony Finn’s Intermediate Certificate, all nicely done out in blue ink on parchment, still waiting to be collected! You could hardly credit it, but it’s true!

Of course, we contacted Tony immediately. He was so moved that he immediately made arrangements to fly back to Cork and collect his certificate in person later this month.

Padraig Mac an Ri is preparing the ceremonial presentation, and we can assure you that we will be there to record the great occasion. 57 years late, but what’s a spot of time between loyal Corkonians? Keep watching this page and we will show you the pictures!

Sometimes, real life is stranger than fiction. And all credit to Padraig for spotting the story and deciding to take it further with some serious digging into the files!

That got us wondering if there are any readers out there who were up that year of 1965 with Tony Finn at Colaiste Chriost Ri? Can you remember sitting the Inter Cert and receiving that all-important scroll? Do you want to get in touch with Tony when he comes home this month?

Please do email jokerrigan1@gmail.com and make yourself, and your own memories of schooldays at CCR known!