Throwback Thursday: Identifying the protester in Vietnam war rally in Cork city

RIGHT, before we do anything else, let’s sort out that vexed question of the exact location in Cork city where the picture of a Vietnam protest was taken back in January, 1967.

You will recall that Frank Desmond first raised this query, so when we published his request for more detail, my editor obligingly put in the same picture. And that brought on a flood of replies, because it wasn’t quite the same!

The first picture, showing the front of the group, had, by reason of exigencies of space, been cropped. The second, taken just after the first, and showing the second half of the march, was the full picture as taken on that wet January day.

Both of them are shown here, so you can see what we mean.

From the full sized picture, you can see very clearly that the students were marching down from the back gate of UCC, past the old jail gates, and out on to Western Road. (Hope you enjoy the sight of a large and formal member of the Garda in full regalia including regulation raincoat, standing by to keep order.)

It’s easy to see now, but in that earlier cropped picture, it could have been almost anywhere. Including indeed the corner of Highfield Avenue and College Road, which Frank suggested as a possibility.

Yes, a picture tells a tale, but what if it isn’t telling the whole story? (Reminds me of those stories of old family albums where the faces of certain offending relatives have been carefully snipped out.)

These days we are all trained to ‘selfies’, with just two or maybe more friends all jutting their chins upwards at the phone and grinning inanely, but back in the day there could be all kinds of other people in the background who might change the story entirely if they were noted and identified.

And there is another train of thought - the office worker sacked because his employer recognised him in a news clip on TV about the rugby match/horse race/hurling final/marbles marathon?

But then, new technology makes it very possible for the camera to lie…

Charlie Lyons, an expat now living in Dublin (“got a one-way ticket from God’s own county many moons ago”), wrote to say: “This photo was taken at the junction of the Jail Walk & Western Road (notice the old jail building in the background). 

The shop on the corner was a grocery/ post office at the time run by a family called O’Donovans. 

"The shop Daybreak which Frank mentions at the junction of Highfield Avenue and College Road was also a grocery/post office at that time run by the Clifford family.

“Keep up the good work as I look forward to your Throwback Thursday every week.”

Michael Quinlan agreed, and helpfully noted that the corner shop is currently the Noodlee Café.

That particular premises, in what must always have been a key location, has in fact changed identity multifarious times over the decades, both before the Vietnam protest and afterwards.

This writer’s own parents (who alas can no longer be asked) would have known it in their day. (My father often claimed that students were late to lectures on the morning of an execution at the old jail when he was up in the 1930s, but that was just his love of a good story, never mind the actual truth. The last such event was in fact in 1923.)

Mary O’Leary has written to say that it was known as Finnegans in her day, back in the 1960s.

Fintan Bloss, who has contributed so much fascinating detail on our city’s past, has written to confirm Charlie Lyons’ view that the premises was known as Donovans, and was a shop and post office combined.

Indeed, you can see the plaque proclaiming its PO qualification up there on the wall on the corner if you take a magnifying glass to the image!

But Fintan has done more - he has identified the leader of the march! You can just see him on the left of that first (cropped) picture.

“That is former next door neighbour of mine, Dermot Quish of Galtee House, 14, North Mall, leading the protestors onto Homeville Place Western Road.

“Dermot has been living in Dublin for several years and featured in the Holly Bough some years ago in a story concerning Quish’s Hotel, which caught fire on Patrick’s Quay in the early 1960s before his parents, John and Mary Quish, moved the family along the river to the North Mall. A William Lillis ran a co-op stores in the 1940s where Noodlee now operates on that corner.”

Well, Dermot Quish, we hope you are reading this, or that some kind friend will let you know of your leap back into student fame! Do write and let know how it felt that day and at that time.

Pat Kelly has sent some more memories about the Model School, which seems to have provided early education for so many readers. He also has vivid memories of the quayside pubs mentioned by Willie O’Sullivan in Throwback Thursday of January 25.

“That page mentions the pubs at the junction of Anglesea Street and Union Quay,” writes Pat. 

I remember the shop nearest to the Model school, still there, which was Caseys shop and pub. The Phoenix was the Black Swan, owned by Billy Heaphy.

“You also mentioned the teachers in the Model. In my day, Mrs Lillis looked after second class, while ‘Murph’, Risteard O’Murchu, took third and fourth.

“Fifth was Danny Cummins. He would get the racing papers, and would often send one of the boys out for a creamy Thompsons cake.

“Sixth was Mossie Donegan, who had been an IRA officer. He was a dead straight military man, with a red face and a stern expression on his face. We were terrifed of him, but in fact he was a pussycat and a good teacher.

“My family, Mam, Dad, my brother Jim and I moved into Collins Barracks married quarters, at No.4 house, No.4 block. My brother and I first went to St Patrick’s National School, then in St Lukes cross, where we were for Low Babies, High Babies and First Class.

We then moved back to Haig Gardens, and we attended the Model. Jim and I were the third generation of our family to attend that school. I remember the turf fires, and the pot-bellied stove in Third and Fourth Class.

“The best thing about the Model was a free day when the school was being used for elections, and a whole extra week at Christmas, when the PO used the school for sorting mail. I also remember a visit by Pa Mc Grath, the Lord Mayor at the time.

“The caretaker, MrsManning, lived in the two storey upstairs next to the tower. She cleaned the school as well as lighting the fires.

“Strangely, I subsumed Irish naturally, but am horrified at the changes in the language today. I remember once we were marched to the Savoy, where songs were projected on the screen, and one was in Scots Gaelic, it was the Eriskay love lilt. We could read the words, but could not understand them. I was shocked at Mallow now being called Malla, which is the Irish for eyebrow, while Mala was a school bag.”

So, you had an enlightened teacher at the Model, Pat, who would send a boy out for a Thompson’s cake?

Well, what wouldn’t some of us in other city schools have given for such welcome treats in the long school day (what am I talking about, I wouldn’t mind one right now!)

Fintan Bloss read our discussion of Cork bakeries last week, and contributed a few more interesting facts on that.

“One of the Donnelly Bakery family members runs a Gala Shop on top of Strawberry Hill / Blarney Road,” said Fintan. “I think John Spillane sang about Strawberry Hill in one of his songs?

“I remember Fitzgeralds bread being delivered to my parents’ house at 15, North Mall, while the milk came by a Tom Buckley. His brother, John, also delivered milk from Ballinahina Dairies.”

Fintan well remembers the refuse being collected by the Corporation, “in trucks which had two sides that resembled a sliding bread bin that moved up and down.

“Waste food was often collected in bins by different individuals who used the food to feed pigs. 

I also have recollections of historian Richard Cooke’s mother, Chrissie, plucking chickens that we kept in the back garden. The Cookes lived on the Rock Steps off the North Mall.

“Hope this is of some interest to you and your loyal readers and I wish you continued success with your weekly features.”

Well, they will continue to be successful and widely read, Fintan, while we can rely on you and others with long vivid memories of Old Cork. Keep them coming in!

It’s an interesting February this year, with that festival of love and affection, Valentine’s Day, coming up next Wednesday. Very nice, you might think, let’s book a table somewhere, get a good bottle of wine, and celebrate.

BUT, but - next Wednesday, February 14, also just happens to be the start of Lent! Yes, Easter is particularly early this year, at the end of March, and that means Lent is on us sooner than we expected.

So next Tuesday will be Pancake Day. Better go get the lemon juice. Pancakes aren’t pancakes unless they are drowned in sugar and lemon. These new-fangled ideas from across the Atlantic - maple syrup and the like - aren’t in it at all.

What are your memories of Valentine’s Day or Pancake Tuesday, or indeed of Lent, back in the black days when fasting and ‘giving up’ were strictly enforced?

Did you endeavour to stay off sweets - a cruel effort for any child? Did you experience fasting, and that fabled ‘cup of tea an’ a biscuit’?

Let’s hear it for the fabled Connie Dodger, historically said to have been invented at the Green Door Café above Le Chateau on Academy Street, but more recently claimed by several other locations of the same period.

Doesn’t really matter who first thought of it, the vital basic points are the same. Large (naturally) and thick (what good did a thin biscuit ever do?) Fruit, optional. A good layer of quality chocolate, essential.

One of those inside you with a strong mug of tea, and you’d be ready to face the rest of the day.

Did we ever mention Newfie Mug-Ups? They are a delightful variation, which can be sourced only on Newfoundland, whence many Irish emigrated during the fishing season on the Grand Banks and settled down there for good. The villages on the island are packed with Irish names, and there must be some wonderful history to research there.

But the Newfie Mug-Up, you demand impatiently? Well, it’s a great big container of tea (if you can get both hands round it, complain to the waiter), well sugared, and imbibed during a break from the fishing with a large doorstep of bread spread with treacle or molasses.

Gets cold up there, y’know. No messing around with dainty little porcelain cups and fairy cakes.

Quick, now, let us have your memories of pancakes and Lenten experiences.

Email jokerrigan1@gmail.com (be sure to include that ‘1’ in the middle or your message goes all round the world), or leave a comment on our Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/echolivecork.