Source:
CARLOVIANA 2017 Edition No. 65 Page 56
The changing face of Carlow
town
by Margaret O’Rourke
Remembering Carlow from the time of
my childhood - up to the present - is like painting a
picture, one of those complex ones by modern artists.
Memories come in spurts, forgotten things re-surface in the
mind.
For many people 'the old days' were
the best of times and all things modern destroyed the
quality of life.' But while that is partially true, it is not
the whole story.
There were many wonderful things
about the simplicity of life back then but there was also a
lot of hardship. One area that has improved greatly is that
of housing.
Today so many people have homes to be proud of - it was not
always so. Most people back then lived in houses owned by
private landlords - low rents and no maintenance!
Of course, there were others who
owned their own homes with beautiful gardens and bathrooms.
The latter was something that most people didn't enjoy until
the 5Os and 6Os, thanks to local authority housing. Before
that some houses were little more than hovels and yet fine
families were reared in them.
Sadly, this great housing
initiative slowed down and today, Carlow, like the rest of
the country, has very many people in need of affordable
accommodation.
Back then, faith in God was an intrinsic part of all our
lives and people thought little about the future. Enough for
today was the motto.
Because the town was smaller,
everyone knew everyone else and good neighbours abounded.
People shared their troubles and were not too proud to
borrow a cup of sugar! Today's world has less to offer in
that direction. Then as now, the well to-do and the poor
lived in different worlds but it wasn't as simple as that.
The less well-off came in many
shades and were determine to keep their foothold in where
they stood in the community. When it came to marrying, it
was very important to stay at your own level or move up a
rung. White collar workers were looked on with respect as
not having to get their hands dirty and wearing the good
suit every day was seen as a sign of success!
I hasten to add that most of this
had changed before I was a young thing, going to the Ritz
Ballroom three times a week and open for romance without too
much checking on the fellows' occupations.
By that time, the criteria were
largely good manners, a nice voice, clean fingernails and
the ability to do the Tango! Remembering Carlow from that
time, the mind swings to the centre of the town itself -
Tullow St., Dublin St., and all the interesting side streets
that opened off them. What a lovely, vibrant memory of fine,
elegant shops, with the families who owned them all living
above the business premises.
These were living streets where
people shopped and chatted during the days and walked for
pleasure in the evenings.
Everything you could possibly want was available in the town
centre plus the irreplaceable bonus of friendly service from
familiar faces.
So what happened? Because this, as anyone who walks these
streets knows, is no longer the case.
So many fine, long-established
shops are no more, very many boarded up – the final
indignity. And what of the people who served us with such
friendliness and efficiency? The simple answer is that
large, anonymous supermarkets took their place. The effect
on the town has been devastating.
Let's take a look at the Shamrock
Square and ask, as I do, how Doyle's fine, well stocked
shops were replaced by The Plaza, a structure totally
unsuited to a country town? Across the road stand two burned
out very old buildings that were once a sub-post office and
a grocery. These derelict buildings have been allowed to
dominate the top of our town for a great number of years and
are, I believe, under a preservation order. Just what is
being done to preserve them?
Walk down a little further and look
with the greatest nostalgia at Mary Teresa Kelly's shop, now
boarded up. Mary never let any child go out without a
handful of sweets and she had a kitchen chair in one corner
of the shop where your mother could sit down and take a rest
while you gazed at all the glass cases with delight I could
go on but it is too depressing - gone The Coliseum cinema,
the Nationalist office, a historic building and one that
belonged in the main street, the Ritz cinema and dance hall
and all the families that once lived over their shops.
Dublin St., lost a treasure when
the venerable and beautiful Royal Hotel was knocked down to
make way for a car park (despite, I believe, a preservation
order being in place) and what of the old Technical School,
a gift to the town from George Bernard Shaw?
Enough of that, let the reader fill in the many gaps. But
surely, somebody should have shouted 'stop'.
All of this deterioration didn't happen overnight - it took
years to bring these fine streets to their present stagnant
state.
The Courthouse, a magnificent
building of which we are all proud, is on the way to being
another casualty as the fine, unique railings that surround
it are being allowed to be eaten away by rust. One day soon
they will have to be taken down 'for safety reasons' just as
the fine trees that surrounded it were chopped down before
an opinion was sought from Coillte as to whether they could
be saved or not. Yes, a destructive spirit prevailed where
Carlow's town centre was concerned and we must live with the
results -or live in hope for the promised renewal.
Our Cathedral was saved from being
denuded of some of its finest features by the people of
Carlow taking to the streets in protest. The plan was to
remove the main altar, the two side altars, the marble
communion rails and the gloriously carved pulpit.
Through the public outcry, the
altars were saved and portions of the communion rails but
the pulpit was sent to the museum. However, the end result
is quite beautiful and we can still be proud of our
Cathedral. Yet nothing will ever convince me that a space
could not have been found for the pulpit, one of the finest
in Europe.
Another good development was the
siting of the County Library and Carlow Museum in the
Presentation School when a fine new school was built on the
outskirts of Carlow. Possibly more than anything else, the
library now gives a focus to Tullow St, particularly today
when a host of interesting activities take place there. And,
amazingly, the fine statue of Our Lady has been left in
place outside the building, together with a plaque marking
the bi-centenary of the arrival of the Presentation Sisters.
The museum is also a wonderful asset to the town.
But now, perhaps, it's time to
think of things that have definitely improved since the old
days. What immediately springs to mind is the difference in
local health services since the introduction of the choice
of doctor scheme.
Before that, the poor and the sick
were served by Carlow dispensary on Church St., a grim
building that I ever only glanced into as a child. But a
glance was enough.
Stone floor, rows of wooden
benches on which the sick waited for the arrival of the
doctor. To say it looked a place of cold comfort would be an
understatement. To
go there, you had to have a Green Card, something my mother
never even tried to acquire. However tight the resources, we
paid for our visits to the doctor but, let me add, we didn't
go for any trifling illness. No, instead, my mother had a
goodly assortment of home remedies, including Beecham’s
Pills, Aspro, Sloan’s Liniment,
Bread soda (for
indigestion), hot onions for application when ear ache
struck, iodine, Mrs. Cullen's Powders, cough bottles and
many more. And, to tell the truth, they worked well!
Later the dispensary moved to a new
building on the Green Road but the regime was the same.
Ironically this was supposed to be the first leg of Carlow's
new hospital, which, of course, was never built. So, all
that was accomplished was that people from the farthest
corners of the town had to trudge a long journey, often
pushing prams with one or two occupants, to avail of the new
facility.
I don't have to comment on how different things are today
when those with medical cards see their own GP in his
surgery, by appointment.
And how can one write about Carlow
in the old days without mention of the Sugar Factory? It
dominated our lives just as its massive chimney dominated
the skyline. There was work aplenty particularly during the
three or four months of 'the Campaign' when lorries, filled
with beet, trundled through our streets, and the air was
permeated with the sweet smell of pulp.
Here again one must mention the
shopkeepers of the time who gave credit, particularly on
foodstuffs, until the money started rolling in.
Without
them many families would have gone hungry but the Campaign
was coming and the good traders were prepared to wait.
Living on the Dublin Road, the
railway station played a big part in our lives - the street
coming alive as the trains came in. Hackney cars buzzed up
looking for business and horse drawn floats brought heavy
goods for dispatch.
Streams of passengers passed our doors giving rise to many
doorstep chats. The station was also a wonderful place for
children to play.
I could not end this random
collection of memories without mentioning the transformation
that came over St. Dympna's Hospital which began in the late
5Os, due largely to the arrival of RMS Dr. Bertram Blake.
At that time there were over 2OO
long term (sometimes lifetime) patients in the hospital.
Suddenly all began to change. The enormously high walls came
down, the male and female patients were integrated for meal
times, tables set for four or six.
One of my first assignments as a
very junior reporter was to attend the meetings of the
Carlow/Kildare Mental Health Board, so I saw the changes as
they happened. The biggest one, perhaps, was the day Dr.
Blake announced to the Board that he wanted the farm on the
Dublin Road sold. This was met with dismay and strong
opposition as all the produce of the farm, which was worked
by the patients, went to provide food for the hospital.
But Dr. Blake was determined. This
type of work, he said, was not good for the mentally ill,
too isolated. For those who wanted outdoor work there was
plenty of it around the hospital itself, keeping the grounds
in order. He got his way and that stopped the daily
truckloads of patients being brought from the hospital to
the farm where many spent their time just looking into the
hedges. And then there was the matter of the big hall in St.
Dympna's, a prime venue for dances featuring all the big
bands.
Clubs hired the premises but now
there was an added proviso. The organisers were told that
they could have the hall but only on the understanding that
a list, which Dr. Blake would make out, of patients that
were fit to go dancing, would be admitted. This was done.
No doubt many more changes went on
inside the hospital, many due to some new drugs which
happily had come on the market, but one thing is certain St.
Dympna's was never the same again.
Perhaps there's a plaque somewhere
to Dr. Blake's contribution, if not, there should be.
But then so many fine characters
helped shape our town, many whose names are forgotten. Even
as I end this article other spurts of memory are flooding my
mind.
Time, perhaps, to turn off the tap
- for now!
My thanks to John Shortall and the
County Library for their help.
Source:
CARLOVIANA 2017 Edition No. 65 Page 56