Throwback Thursday: Grand National coup by Cork's northside sisters!

THROWBACK Thursday reader John Kenny was delighted with the recent articles where we all deplored the food waste of today and compared it to the domestic economy of our mothers and grandmothers in the harder times gone by.

“You rightly praised the ingenuity and thrift of mothers of the time after World War II,” says John, “especially where cooking to feed the family, and still somehow managing to make ends meet, was concerned.

“I remember all of the meals which you listed very well and would add ‘dripping’ to that list - slices of bread fried in dripping, they were a great treat.

 My own mother always kept a bowl of dripping.

“I also remember that she produced very nice meals, cooking sheep’s hearts and sheep’s tongues, which I imagine most housewives wouldn’t use today.”

But we will be doing these mothers an injustice if we only mention their cooking and baking prowess, John points out.

“When it came to clothing the children, mothers really surpassed themselves.

“It was usual then for mothers to make their children’s clothes. They knitted jumpers and stockings and made coats.

“The Singer sewing machine was a feature in many houses then. Mothers would shorten or lengthen a garment, taking the hem up to suit a younger child and then, as the child grew, letting it down again.

“If a young boy or girl tore or damaged a pants, a dress, a blouse or a shirt, those hardworking mothers would patch the damaged parts so we could continue to wear them.”

John adds: “If a hole appeared in the heel or toe of a stocking, the mother would darn them so we would still wear them.

“Neighbours of ours were a large family of eight children, seven girls and one boy. The father worked as a porter in the railway. His wages were £1 a week. The mother of that family used to unravel old jumpers which couldn’t be worn anymore. She used to wash the wool in the sink in the pantry, and then hang it out on the line.

“When the wool was dry, she would wind it into balls to knit stockings for the family. The washing and drying refreshed the wool.

“I am happy to relate that the boy of that family got a job in the Civil Service in Dublin and achieved the highest position there before he retired.”

Wonderful recollections, John, and we were particularly delighted to learn of that skill being practised of unravelling old sweaters and re-using the wool.

It’s a skill now being rediscovered in America by those who value the older traditions, but it might not be a bad idea for us to rediscover it here too, instead of wasting valuable, still usable, material.

As for darning socks - does anybody do that any more?

But back to John Kenny’s memories.

“Reading your column every week, a person of my vintage is bound to dwell on the times when we were young,” he says.

There are two words which always occur to me whenever I reflect on times past and one of these is hygiene.

" Hygiene today plays an integral part in our daily lives, both in the home and outside it.

“Again, a person of my generation can’t but compare hygiene today with how it was then.

“In my early years I worked in a grocery and provisions shop. I remember bread being delivered in a bread van which was horse-drawn. At the time in Cork we had many bread bakeries. Thompson’s, O’Shea’s, Hosford’s, Simcox, Hadden’s, McCarthy’s and Phair’s were the main ones.

“I can still see the horse-drawn van stopping outside the shop. The van man or driver got down from his seat and, having secured the reins and whip, opened the back door of the van. He got a large cane basket from the top and placed it on the ground. He then got a long pole with an iron nail at the end of it and proceeded to extract various loaves of bread (unwrapped) and throw them into the basket by hand.

“He then called to houses on the road who were customers of the bakery. The woman of the house would come to the door and handled the loaves in the basket to select the ones she would keep and leave the ones she didn’t want.

“This procedure was repeated at three or four houses before he went back to the bread-van to fill it again by hand.”

Sometimes, the poor horse would relieve itself in the meantime, but the basket was still put on the ground to be re-filled.

John continues: “Having served the houses, the bread man would fill the basket by hand again and come into the shop. The shopkeeper would select by hand the loaves he, or she, wanted from the basket and store them until someone came in to buy bread.

“Of course, the loaf had to be handled again to give to the customer, and sometimes it would be wrapped in newspaper.

I remember the loaves had names like basket loaf, batch loaf, skull loaf, Vienna loaf and Thoma loaf.

John recalls that at that time, Jacob’s biscuits were the only ones available in local shops.

A customer would come into the shop to buy a quarter pound or a half-pound of biscuits. The Jacob’s tin would be opened and a paper bag produced for the biscuits.

The shop assistant would take the biscuits out of the tin by hand, put them into the bag and put the bag on the weighing scales.

Usually, the scales would show that the bag was just over the quarter pound and so the assistant would take one or two biscuits back out of the bag and put them back in the tin.

John explains: “Before serving the bread or biscuits, the shop-assistant could have been weighing potatoes or handling vegetables like cabbage, carrots or turnips, all of which had a lot of the earth from which they were pulled still on them. Washing hands?! It just didn’t happen!

The extraordinary thing is that no-one ever got sick. Maybe it was because there were so many germs and bacteria about that we all built up a protective immunity against them?

Another reader, Willie O’Sullivan, who has shared such wonderful memories of the Coal Quay and Kyle Street in Throwback Thursday, and the days when his mother and his aunts traded second-hand clothing, has sent us more from his recollections, this time relating to hose racing,

“Another one of those memories was Grand National Day,” says Willie. “I’m sure everybody knows what that is, but for those who don’t, it’s the big annual event of the horse racing industry.

“Now, back in the ’60s and ’70s, everybody and their mother had a flutter, large or small on the National.

“At this point, I must mention the Mutt and Jeff cartoon, which was on page 2 or 3, along the bottom of the page, every day in De Echo.

“You might ask what has the Mutt and Jeff cartoon got to do with the Grand National? Well, every year, the night before the race, it was believed by everyone that a tip for the winner was covertly hidden within the storyline of Mutt and Jeff.

This nearly always turned out to be true, as one way or another the name of the horse that won was connected to the cartoon, even if it wasn’t intended.

“Hard to credit it, I know, but that was a firm belief.”

Willie adds: “Back to Kyle Street, and the process of the girls and all the other traders picking the winner of the Grand National.

Everybody would be waiting for the Evening Echo (as it was known then) to study Mutt and Jeff to see what this year’s hint was from them.

“Now, you could read several different reasons for your tip, as the assumed cartoon hint could well apply to any horse, but everybody agreed that when they had the Mutt and Jeff tip, they won.

“My memory stretches back to a particular year, 1976, when the Buckley girls got their Echos, and headed straight for Mutt and Jeff to study it closely for their selection for the race on the following day.

“Somewhere in the cartoon that evening, there was a mention of clothes, or dresses, or suits maybe. I did read the cartoon as I did every day, but I can’t remember what I thought my tip was.

“But at the end of the day, the girls concluded, between their involvement in the clothing industry and their interpretation of the cartoon, what horse they would bet on.

What happened next I can only describe as uncanny. 

"The word went around the Northside that De Girls had made their selection. They were always lucky in the race, so everybody followed them and their choice. Being a large family, everybody and their grandmother bet on that horse - uncles, aunts, nephews, nieces, and friends.

Well, believe it or not, the horse won the race at 14/1! His name? Rag Trade. I’m sure everybody will make the connection between the clothing industry and the rag trade!

“The full details of the result were as follows: Date, Saturday, April 3, 1976. Winner, Rag Trade at 14/1. Trainer, Fred Rimmell. Jockey, Johnny Burke.”

(As a matter of interest, Rag Trade (sired in Ireland by Menelek out of Rage), by being first past the post, had managed to put off Red Rum’s third victory in the National for a further year. And it was Rimmell’s fourth success, having previously won the race with ESB.)

But back to Willie’s story.

“As you can imagine, a good weekend was had by the whole family, even the young ones, because of course they were in on it; even though they couldn’t place their own small bets, it was done for them by the adults, so they all got their due winnings, which was spent on the pictures, sweets, swimming, and all kinds of goodies.

“A typical bet could be ten bob each way for the Mam, half a crown each way for the kids, and then the dads who would be more likely to have a flutter and make his own heavier bet. Anyway, it was a good week for everyone.

“A lot of the celebrations would have taken place in the local hostelry frequented by the whole family. This was the Social Bar, situated around the corner from Kyle Street. Anybody fond of a tipple and living on the Northside would have memories of this pub.

As most characters in the northside drank there, those people will have good memories of The Social.

“The name of the bar was actually Portrays. What kind of place was it? Well, it was an institution rather than a pub. Too long a story for this time, but maybe notes for the future, coupled with other northsiders’ memories.

“I’ll start the ball rolling by mentioning the owners. They were a family from Kerry, Paddy and May Healy, daughters Majella and Patsy, and son Michael, who continued to run the bar for decades after their mam and dad had passed on.

“Let’s hear it from the regulars of the past!”

Tell us your own memories!

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