Throwback Thursday: No meat, no dancing, no fun: Cork Lents of past

SINCE last week’s Throwback Thursday, we have received more interesting memories of Lent as experienced in the 1950s and ’60s.

We appreciated very much the detail given by Pat Kelly, from Marion Park in Blackrock, which really reminds us of the stern grip of the clergy back then.

“I remember Lent in the old days. Mass every morning, fasting of course, where Connie Lucey [then Bishop of Cork) would publish in the Examiner exactly what we were ALLOWED TO EAT DURING LENT.

“No sweets, no meat, plenty of fish, certainly no TV (if you had one!) or other entertainment other than religious hymns and sacred music.

No dancing, no cinemas, and certainly no enjoyment. What you might call in plain English, misery.

Indeed, weddings were prohibited during Lent, if we are not mistaken (which led to a flurry of such happy occasions up to and including Shrove Tuesday). And, as regards the forbidden entertainments mentioned by Pat, that extended to indulgent practices like reading too.

Sure, uplifting religious texts were recommended, but anything as wicked as children’s stories or (perish the thought) romantic novels were, if not quite forbidden, certainly heavily frowned upon.

“I can remember my father taking away the Famous Five book I was devouring, one Good Friday,” recalls Katie O’Brien.

 “In its place he dropped a heavy-bound 19th century volume of The Graphic on my lap and told me to read that instead, as it was more ‘suitable’.”

The Graphic was a highly respectable London magazine which published stories and articles by leading writers, including George Eliot, Thomas Hardy, and Anthony Trollope. Most of the material therein tended towards the virtuous and uplifting, but Katie, leafing through, discovered a new paradise of delight.

“I found Rider Haggard’s She, all the episodes. I was enthralled! I sat there for hours that day, and all Easter weekend, following the exciting adventures of the hero with beating heart.

“In later years, I wondered if my father really thought that the passions, horrors, and thrills of that great novel with its ferocious and beautiful African queen, She-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed, were suitable Lenten reading? Perhaps he didn’t realise it was in there, between those stiff blue covers!”

Pat Kelly can remember how dull and gloomy everything was during Lent.

The churches were draped in purple mourning, and statues were covered.

“During Mass in Blackrock, where I lived (and still do), all three altars were used at the same time - ie, three masses in the one building at the same time. The church was packed.

“And as for the diet - yellow fish on Fridays, when my mother also prepared mashed spuds, and peas, with white onion sauce.

“Another fish much in evidence during Lent was ‘battleboard’, perhaps better known as salted ling.”

Gosh, we can remember seeing those rock hard pieces of fish hanging up in shops down around Cornmarket Street, back in the day, Pat. They would keep for a very long time, which was their main advantage at a time when very few had a refrigerator, but they took a lot of soaking before they were fit for eating (and sometimes not even then, quite a few who experienced that ‘delicacy’ might say.)

Pat adds: “I also well remember the collation that Bishop Lucey ALLOWED.us eat, just one cup of tea (preferably black, unsugared) and just one biscuit, to keep you from passing out altogether.

So how large a biscuit?

Well, you have to hand it to Cork and Corkonians to discover the devious approach. The Green Door baked a whopper of a biscuit. It was as big as an English muffin, a meal in itself. Ah, the great old Connie Dodger!”

Yes, one wonders if Bishop Lucey would appreciate being remembered for all time in that particular escape route from the demands of his personal approach to Lent?

We must admit, we didn’t know he actually used De Paper to remind his people of their obligations during this penitential time. An interesting fact there, Mr Kelly.

“Thank heavens those times are long gone,” says Pat with real feeling. 

It was a time of deprivation, where at the same time, there was poverty all around anyway.

Good point. Most of our mothers had enough to do getting food on the table without having to cope with this extra obligation.

Even when it wasn’t Lent, the strictures on Friday fasting were rigorously imposed, recalls Pat.

“I remember when I was working on a bread van with Thompson’s in the bad old days. I had been out all day one Friday in dreadful weather, and came home soaked to the skin. My mother was dreadfully afraid that I would get TB (a very real risk in the Cork of those days, where the disease was rampant), so she cooked up some meat to give me a good hot meal and put strength into me.

“But afterwards, I felt I had to confess to the priest about this. He started shouting at me, telling that I had committed a mortal sin!

“Such were the times when we were really scared of priests, and did they ever know it!”

Meanwhile, Willie O’Sullivan has been perusing Throwback Thursday with considerable enjoyment lately.

“It was great to read about all our stories and memories. I’ve met lots of people who linked some of those contributions with myself, and really enjoyed them,” he said.

I told them, no more talk, get pen to paper with their own stories, by email of course (ha ha1) Just like you told me, Jo!

Willie was particularly happy to spot contributions by Finbar Bevan. “A real gentleman. I’ve known Finbar for the bones of 50 years, as you would say on the Northside. Sure he’s a neighbour’s child!

“I do remember the Lido cinema that he refers to and the carry-on or serial films, but for some reason I never got to go there.

“I’m sure Finbar will also remember the Saturday morning flicks at the North Mon school. They would be mainly of Tarzan and Jane and the Apes, all black and white of course. Tarzan was played that time by Johnny Weismuller, who also competed in the Olympics. If I remember rightly, he won gold medals.

“It would be a regular Saturday morning occurrence to see us Spangle Hill lads make our way along Knockpogue Avenue and down Fair Hill to the entrance of the school.

“Just at the school gates, there was a tiny shop which was famous for its Chester Cake, also known as Donkey’s Gudge. We would go in there, get our slab of Chester, and proceed on to the school hall where the brothers would seat you.

“We were all very well behaved because if we were not, the brothers would be standing by with the famous strap. These flicks all took place in the late 1960s.

“I had other reasons to remember Finbar Bevan,” adds Willie.

 “He would well remember the GAA ban on playing soccer. Our local GAA club was Na Phiarsaig, which Frank Desmond recently pointed out on Throwback Thursday was properly pronounced ‘Peersig’.

“There were literally hundreds of young lads in the Spangle Hill area, eager and proud to represent the black and amber colours of the club (it was a bit early for the girls yet!).

“Then soccer became popular and that created a problem. You see, the famous GAA ban meant we were not allowed to play soccer. I know this sounds crazy, but that’s the way it was back then.

“If it was found out that you were playing for a soccer club, or even if it was reported that you played it on the street, which it sometimes was, you would be banned for life from the GAA.

“Then, in 1971, a big controversial debate took place within the GAA and they saw sense. The ban was lifted. This was a huge thing at the time that even saw friends falling out. For some of us though, it was definitely a blessing in disguise.

There were now hundreds of young lads on the streets of Spangle Hill, but no soccer club to play for, even though they all wanted to.

“This is where two of my friends (Mikesy Lyons, and John O’Neill) and myself came in. We were involved with the northside soccer club, St Mary’s, at junior level. We decided to approach the club committee, who held their weekly meetings over the Belphegor pub in Shandon Street.

“We told the committee we wanted to start a schoolboys’ team within the club, and we wanted tracksuits, footballs, and sets of juvenile jerseys, in the famous black and white colours of the club. They duly gave them to us! Hence the start of schoolboys’ soccer in the name of St Mary’s in 1971.

“I distinctly remember on the night, the club chairman, Billy Murphy, asking me how did we think we would do. I said I thought we would be capable of at least two trophies in the first year, the talent was so available in the Spangle Hill area.

“Well, we went on to win the Under 12s Double, the Under 14s Double (which were leagues and cups) and the Under 15s cup. Not bad for the first year!”

Willie says he knows that there are lots of people out there who remember those times and onwards, and would love for them to jog his memory with things that he has failed to remember.

Or even to contradict me on some of the facts. I’m not infallible you know (ha ha!)

“This brings me back to Finbar’s role,” Willie continues. “After a few years I stepped down from my role. This is where I need help.

“I can vaguely remember Finbar and a friend, Anthony Sheehan, taking up the reins with the previously mentioned John O’Neill.

“I do remember John needed a wheelchair to be mobile, and every time you met John he would be driven by one of the lads, Finbar or Anthony,

“While I went down the road of playing and coaching soccer, I do know Finbar took up refereeing. I’ve seen him togged out in the black and white on the sports pages of the Evening Echo (as it was then!)”

Right, there is a good challenge thrown down by Willie O’Sullivan to ardent fans of Cork soccer - whether you’re a Northsider, a Southsider, or An Original Corkonian From De Flat of De City.

Can you remember when you had to choose either the rugby and soccer gang or the GAA, lads? Did you ever pull up your coat collar and tiptoe through the turnstile to watch neighbourhood friends play an exciting game that was forbidden to you?

Most of all, do you remember the glorious achievements of the St Mary’s Schoolboys back in 1971?

We (and all our readers too) want to hear your memories right away! Email jokerrigan1@gmail.com. Or leave a comment on our Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/echolivecork.