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Throwback Thursday: When Santa visited kids in Covid times

EchoLive.ie, 28 Dec

JO KERRIGAN hears a lovely story about a Corkman who ensured Santa

visited his local children during Covid, plus more memories of school

days

New Year celebrations in full swing at Jurys Hotel in Cork city on

December 31, 1972

    

Jo Kerrigan

DID you go out with the Wren Boys on St Stephen’s Day? Or take part in

a Poc Fada along a country road?

We have some great traditions that are still alive and well here in

Cork, and it’s good to participate, reminding ourselves of the natural

turning cycle of the year.

Willie O’Sullivan remembers many an outing early on December 26: “The

Wren on St Stephen’s morning was the opportunity in younger days to

make a few bob going into the New Year,” he recalled.

“Most houses welcomed our singing, but I do remember getting the odd

dish of water thrown over us by the guy with the hangover. Looking

back, it was understandable, I suppose!”

ENDURING FESTIVE TRADITION: Wren boys pictured on St Stephen’s Day in

North Cork in the late 1960s ENDURING FESTIVE TRADITION: Wren boys

pictured on St Stephen’s Day in North Cork in the late 1960s

At one time, you would find groups all over the city and county, all

dressed in ragged clothes and with their faces blackened, singing

outside houses with various renderings of the traditional rhyme:

“The Wren, the Wren, the king of all birds,

St Stephen’s Day, he was caught in the furze…”

Willie also remembers those rare years when the white stuff actually

did decide to fall on the seven hills of Cork, bringing days to be

treasured and availed of to the full for the youngsters.

When we did get snow, and it froze over, we would get our mothers’

plastic washing up bowls from the sink, meet at the top of Spangle Hill

(by the church), and skeet all the way down. How someone wasn’t killed,

I’ll never know!

“We would then wait for the No 3 bus and ‘get a langy’ (Northside slang

for being pulled along) up the hill. Arrive, turn around, and repeat!

“Our mothers, of course, would know where their dishes were gone, and

would give out to us for having to buy new ones!”

Not a thought of health and safety back then…

Willie continues: “You featured Michael Ryan’s schooldays a week or so

back. I also went to Eason’s Hill School. I referred to it by its

nickname, Bulldog College.

“I remember Michael well. In fact, we were in the same class, and we

both came from Farranree. Maybe when Michael reads this he will

remember me?

“Other classmates were Joe Gorman, Jim Twomey, Percy (John) Kelly. We

all palled round together.

“Michael mentioned teachers Mr O’Mahony and Mr Jackson, but he must

have forgotten the headmaster, Mr O’Shea, known by all of us as Barry

O’Shea (as if he didn’t know).”

Willie adds: “Michael also mentioned the Den-ah-hys family. There were

two families. One from Cattle Market Avenue, the other from Mount Nebo

Avenue. They all went to Eason’s Hill in their millions and multitudes.

They were a huge family (kept the school open!)

“The football connection that Michael spoke of was the great Miah

Dennehy (recently passed). Miah was a great friend of mine. He played

with Walsall, Nottingham Forest, and of course Cork Hibs.

Miah had the distinction of being the first man to score three goals in

an FAI Cup Final. I think he’s the only one.

“Michael well remembers the ponnies of milk and the creamy buns, as we

all do. He spoke too of John Creedon’s TV show about the school. John

did indeed attend the school and his family supplied the self-same milk

and buns. They had a shop on Coburg Street, around where O’Connor’s

Funeral Home is now. It was called the Inchigeela Dairies. (The Creedon

family all came from Inchigeela, hence the shop name.)

“Then, right across the road was An Stad Café where you could sit down

for your snack. I can tell you, there were nearly as many relationships

struck up there as there were at Mangan’s Clock on Patrick Street.

Mangans clock on Patrick's Street. Mangans clock on Patrick's Street.

“That time, when you were setting up a jag, you would say ‘see you in

the Stad at eight’. Happy days!”

(For any readers unaware of what ‘setting up a jag’ might mean, we

would refer you to Mr O’Sullivan for clarification).

But back to Michael’s stories, says Willie.

“He wanted to know where the school bus tours went to. Well, there were

two types of tours. The main one was the Official School Tour. This

always went to Owenahincha. Great craic.

“Then you had the other tour. This was arranged by the school for us

kids whose parents couldn’t afford the main bus, but it didn’t matter

anyway because we all went on both buses (by hook or by crook).

“This bus always went to Ringabella. It was called the Fresh Air Fund

Bus. I don’t know where the name came from, but I’m sure we could all

use our imaginations!”

We have some heart-warming tales of festive seasons gone by, shared

with us by avid readers of Throwback Thursday. Here is one from Joan

McCarthy that really encapsulates the Christmas spirit: “I just have to

share this beautiful story about my beloved dad, Owen McCarthy. I don’t

remember it myself, as I would only have been about three at the time,

but my sister Ger remembers it vividly.

One cold, wet Sunday afternoon during the holidays, there was a

homeless man knocking on all the doors, looking for some food. My

father hadn’t heard our door, but when he arrived into the living room

and discovered what was happening, Ger said he looked out the window

and saw the man across the road.

“My dad went out, crossed the road, and brought the homeless man back

to our house. He sat him in front of the fire to heat him up, and made

sure he was fed a warm meal with whatever was in the house

“ For those few hours at least, my father made sure there certainly was

‘room at the inn’ for this man in need. It’s a true measure of the man

I was so blessed to call ‘dad’!”

Doesn’t that make us all feel reassured that there really still is

goodness and kind-heartedness in the world, whatever the chaos in

international matters? Thank you, Joan.

Michael Ryan on his mission to save Christmas for Cork children during

Covid. Michael Ryan on his mission to save Christmas for Cork children

during Covid.

But, you may say, that was way back. Things are different now.

Well, here is a story from Michael Ryan about a more recent goodwill

gesture that made all the difference to local children in that year of

confusion and fear during a lockdown that affected everyone. Here is

how Michael tells it, in his own inimitable way...

“It was coming up to Christmas, but there was a dark shadow thrown over

the city. Doom and gloom was everywhere - this was no ordinary

Christmas, as time would tell. The children were upset. There was going

to be no visit to Santa this year.

“One little girl was heard saying to her mother, ‘Mummy, how will I

know if Santa received my letter? He won’t know what I asked for!’ A

little boy, overhearing this, said, ‘It’s the bug that’s caused all

this trouble. Will it ever go away?’

It was Covid of course, and where children were concerned, it did seem

to have ruined everything. But not all was not lost. For one housing

estate anyway, there was light at the end of the tunnel. Sub-Santa was

coming to the rescue!

“It was all arranged by my daughter, Michelle,” continues Michael. “A

plan of action was quickly put in place. She would collect me in her

car, we would head to the estate, and call around to friends of hers.

So, a week or two before Christmas Day, I went to the attic and hunted

for my red suit which was with the Christmas decorations. Fortunately,

I found it, and it was in good repair.

“On the all-important night, I headed to Michelle’s, and put on the

suit there (making sure the grand kids didn’t see me of course!). Then

off I went, down around the estate with my helper (Michelle). Her job

was to knock on the doors. As the door opened, she stepped back, and we

both kept at a safe distance. The children looked bewildered, in a daze

I suppose.

“ ‘Well, how are ye?’ I shouted. ‘I called around to see how ye’re all

doing. I got yere letters, and no worries, everything is going to be

grand on the day. Do you want to ask me anything?’

“A small one said, ‘Santa, where are your reindeer?’ Well, that caught

me off guard, and I had to think fast. I looked around and from where I

was standing, I could see the cars heading up the motorway to

Watergrasshill.

“So I turned to the little girl and said, ‘Do you see the lights away

over there? That’s my reindeer waiting for me!’ That seemed to do the

trick, thankfully, so on we went to the next house.

“But isn’t there always a smart alec? This one said, ‘Santa, how can

you go down the chimney? Sure you’re too fat!’ I was quick in the

response on that one. ‘My boy, don’t you know I can do lots of magic?

Don’t you know I have a magic key that will open the door on any

fireplace? Although last year I forgot my key and nearly burned my bum

on the fire!’

That brought a few giggles, I can tell you! In the meantime, Michelle

was behind, laughing her head off at me trying to answer all their

questions.

“At another few houses, I told the kids to make sure the fire wasn’t

lit, and to go to bed early for thir mammy and daddy. At one place I

told them not leave out any pies. I patted my belly, and said, ‘Mrs

Santa Claus will have to put me on a diet. But don’t forget Rudolf,

leave some carrots for him and the rest of the reindeer!’

“My very last call was to the grandkids, and thankfully they didn’t

twig who I was. They asked me similar questions to all the others, so

all in all, every thing went well.

“It was great to see the joy and happiness that it brought to the

little ones. Sure, isn’t that what Christmas is all about, keeping the

kids happy and contented?”

Michael admits that he felt a wave of joy and emotion as he left the

estate, hoping that the year ahead would be better than the year

everyone had been through.

Now doesn’t that bring a tear to the eye? What a lovely, thoughtful

thing to do, Michael. Keep the magic going, even in the most difficult

of times.

And Mr Ryan has generously shared a flash picture on the right (taken

by Rudolf, maybe? That red-nosed creature is a dab hand behind the

lens, you know) of his substitute Santa setting off on his rounds.

And we are almost into 2024! Ring in the New Year with confidence and

joy, go out and lay your hands on the trunks of fruit trees, to

encourage them to do well in the warmer months ahead, and make sure to

throw a lump of firewood at the front door at midnight to ensure a warm

and welcoming home.

(OK, OK, Eamon Ryan, but this really doesn’t need to be expensively

kiln-dried firewood; in fact a dropped-by-chance bough will do just

fine…) And do tell us your own memories of what New Years long ago

brought to you and yours. Email jokerrigan1@gmail.com. Or leave a

comment on our Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/echolivecork.

Santa, cribs and toys from Christmas past