A site for classic vehicles, social histories, and anything else that is old and has a connection to the Island.
In homage to all those photo blogs out there, here are a few of mine. You will have to forgive that they most were taken on my phone. It is not an expensive one, or particularly high tech, but I like these few pics.
A ship called Dignity - On Arran many years ago (OK, this is in Scotland, but I wanted to get this pic in).
The boat house at Castle Ward, Co. Down.
Dundrum Castle, Co. Down, looking towards the Mournes.
There is a hero in this story; his name is Ken McIlwrath. Belfast was not a very inviting place in the 1970’s.The city centre was closed off and fortified.
Getting to the shops meant passing through a heavy duty turnstile, and
submitting yourself to a search by armed security staff who in turn were
watched over by soldiers. Those who were old enough at the time will remember
the automatic reaction of entering a shop and raising your arms for the search;
a reaction that could be a bit embarrassing when travelling outside our small
province!The city’s night life had
either moved out of town entirely, or to Great Victoria Street, an area then
known as the ‘Golden Mile’. The bar trade in Northern Ireland was largely run by the
duopoly of Bass and Guinness back then. Bars were supplied by one or other except
for the black stuff which made it into all bars, with occasional pretenders
being introduced to northern drinkers by Bass such as Beamish or Murphy’s.There was little choice for beer dri…
My mother died earlier this year, so while her stories of growing up and making her way her in Ireland are still fresh, I thought I would write a few down. I hope you enjoy them. _____ We all know that the last 40 years or so have been a time of
massive change throughout the world, not least because of technological change.The transformation of Ireland from insular
island to outgoing European state has been no less spectacular in that
time.Go back another 40 or 50 years
beyond that, a time still in the living memory of many of our older citizens, equally
great influences like the great depression, world war and the birth pains of
the Free State itself were making their mark.Into this maelstrom, in 1929, my mother was born on a small farm in the
Ox Mountains of Co. Sligo, right on the border with Mayo. The middle child of three, they seem to have had an idyllic
upbringing. My grandfather was obviously in love, for at some point the family moved
to a farm near Coolaney, Co. Sligo, and f…
If you have read my write up of putting Boomers bike on the
roof at the Paddock you will already have seen how a story can take on a life
of its own in 30 years or so.This tale
came to my part of the family around 70 years ago, but originates another 30
years before that.It was only after
noticing a discrepancy in an old photo that I did a little research and found
out that the story as told was not entirely true.This is a great pity, because in my humble
opinion, the myth is a far better story than the reality, but read on and make
up your own mind. First lots of background info I’m afraid. This story comes from my Mum’s side of our family, (which
you may remember comes from Co. Sligo), and became real for me through a little
gold watch that lay in her jewellery box.I was fascinated by it as a child because the back of the case hinged
open to reveal the intricate mechanism ticking as its cogs slowly turned.The makers name (Rolex), meant nothing to me
then.It didn’t …