Extracts from "The Way It Was", Part 1
compiled and edited by Paul Gannon
"It was very easy to run a pub in 1947. The whole scene was very uncomplicated and relaxed.
I could close up the pub at the blink of an eye, any time of any day during
the week, if I so desired, without fear of criticism from the general
public. If I wasn't open, people would simply go to some other pub. I
played a lot of football in those days, and I could devote as much time
as I like to training. I think it would be fair to say that up until 1960
the whole institution that was the public house seemed to just trundle
along without even being conscious of itself. It was merely an adjunct
to a more important business, a sort of backroom sideshow. "We'll go into
the back," they'd say. The men would sit around the fire on barrels; boxes
even planks in some instances and break into easy conversation. The weather,
the price of cattle, and fishing were the usual topics of conversation.
The atmosphere was homely and pleasant, almost like being in one's own
living room. Pubs were pretty run-down places in the late 1940s. They
hadn't changed or developed in decades."
From "A Backroom Business", remembered by Francis Mannion
"It was as traditional a scene as one could ever wish to see. The kitchen was the heart of the
house and the dance was always held in the kitchen. Whatever sparse amount
of furniture was removed into one of the two bedrooms and planks, rested
on big stones, were laid out around the perimeter of the kitchen to enable
one group of dancers to take a breather while another group were out on
the floor. My parents sat, one on either side of the big open fire, keeping
an eye on proceedings as well as playing music. The kettle would be hanging
on the crook and I often remember eels and smoked fish hanging over the
fire. The cailleach was in the corner next to the fireplace but the curtain
would always be drawn across it during a dance. Bags of onions would usually
lie hanging from the rafters.
Apart from the light from the
fire, the only other light was the paraffin lamp on the wall above the
fireplace. It was always my job to buy the paraffin oil and clean the
globe of the lamp with newspaper. My father always reminded me to make
sure there was enough paraffin oil for the night of a dance. The only
picture that adorned the whitewashed stone walls was the Sacred Heart
with its little light. The fire cast shadows on the flagstone floor and
the sparks would fly from the hobnailed boots as the dancers flew around
the floor in a frenzy of excitement. "Mind the dresser and give the oul
cailleach in the bed more porter" they'd shout as the dance would rise
to fever pitch. "Up Ballaghdereen" was another favourite."
From "Mind the Dresser", remembered by Teresa Bradley
See also
Using St Mary's Church, Clifden's first Roman Catholic Chapel, and the nearby graveyard, as a focal point,
Kathleen Villiers-Tuthill traces Clifden's history from 1812 right up to the present day.
written by himself, on Jürgen Kullmann's
Irelandman.de site.
"...built on land that had been farmed by the Whelan family who were tenants on the D'Arcy estate and resident in the area since before the famine." From
coastguard-station.com.