Wonderful memories growing up in a Cork pub

Following on from Brian Cronin’s wonderful memories of life in a hotel on the Lower Road in Cork city during the 1950s and ’60s in last week’s Throwback Thursday, Stephen Twohig has sent us an equally vivid from the Kanturk of the 1970s.

“In retrospect, I suppose our bar in the Commercial Arms was known as an older crowd place,” reflected Stephen.

“You had your usual regulars on their particular evening. Bridge night was on Mondays and you had all the respectable ladies from around town come in for their gin and tonics. Wednesday and Saturdays were card nights, and every so often a party or ‘social’ on a Friday or Saturday.

“Your regulars always took to their favourite spots and hung with the same crowds, the banter and jokes flying back and forth,” added Stephen.

“Looking back, there really were some incredible characters. Uncle Paddy holding court with Johnny Breen, Paddy O, and always the odd few gardaí. I suppose the latter frequented ‘The Hotel’ as they knew there would never be any ‘after hours’ problems, and they could uphold the law when working and when not.

“Paddy Callaghan, or ‘Paddy O’, was the local garage owner. Johnny Breen worked over in Callaghans and was as avid a rally er as we were. We would go to many rallies with him and have great times.

Then there was Tiger O’Neill, and what a funny man he was. Every word out of his mouth was hilarious. His sons were of course called the Cubs and he ed his wit on to many of them. I will go years without seeing him, but when we bump into each other above in Bobs’ bar or down in Kelly’s, off we go on a joke-for-joke tirade.

“Tiger’s brother Peter was a regular too and a good man for a song when called on.

“If Tiger was our (Rodney) Dangerfield, then Peter was our (Marlon) Brando He could capture audiences and the place would hush to hear his booming operatic voice . He did the same in the many great plays in which he performed in the Edel Quinn.

“Come to think of it, he even looked like Brando (the Cork version.)

“The Edel Quinn was our local hall where anything from discos and bingo to boys scouts and band practices went on.

“With regard to plays, these were put on by a local crowd from time to time - I don’t think it was a definitive theatre group per se.”

Stephen continues his enthralling memories of growing up in the Commercial Arms in Kanturk.

“In the early evenings, we had Pat Crotty and his wife June. Pat was a local dentist and was a soft-spoken, kind, and intellectual individual. His wife was like him in that they were always reading and quietly enjoying an evening drink as they read.

“June would go on to publish a novel or two and it would turn out to be a great success. It was in their genes, as their son Vincent, who had been the piano player in our band, would go on to become a great artist. He has made a great name for himself, winning awards at home and in the States.

“Of the gardaí that frequented the place, I John Cremin, John Casey, Ger Dowling, Brendan Flannagan, and John Fuller. John Cremin was a gentleman, an easygoing relaxed individual. He would sit there smiling, pulling on his pipe and taking it all in.

“Other memorable customers would be Johnny Taylor, John Forde, Liam O’Connor, Harry and Esti Howard, Mickey Breen and wife May, Old Johnny Breen, Michael Linehan, Gerry Browne, Peter Goggin, Michael Bowman and Jerome Healy.

“Michael Bowman lived across the road and what a wonderful character he was: solicitor, historian, comedian, and all round entertainer.

“In his eloquent manner, he could hold an audience in his hand, and it’s many the night he held court and entertained one and all. He also had time for us younger ones where sometimes we had been ignored.”

Stephen recalled: “Jerome Healy lived across the street from us. He had a great laugh and had great stories to make you laugh too.

“He tried hard at fishing and told one story of a long night fishing behind at The Feale without so much as a bite. Finally, in the wee hours he packed it in as those around him were pulling in fish left and right and he was getting frustrated. 

As he reeled in his line, he found to his surprise and dismay he had been casting all night with just the line and no flies!

“Donal Leahy was the brother of my Aunt Eilish. He was a salesman up in Dublin and would drop in now and again if travelling nearby.

“Over Christmas, he would always be expected. Like his brother and sister, he was a talented singer. He had a booming tenor voice that would captivate everyone in his company. He could have been a professional singer in my estimation. He was a fun loving, laughing, gregarious, and life-loving individual. Sadly, he would leave us at an early age.

“I still hear him over the din of the crowd singing Jerusalem, Ave Maria or O Sole Mio.”

Stephen says there was a tradition in Kanturk of asg varied and colourful nicknames to those you knew.

“Quite often, nobody has a clue just how these names originated, but it didn’t matter. They were never intended to be malicious or degrading, in fact quite the opposite.

“Most were nicknames of affection for characters we held dear. Mentioned already were Tiger O’Neill and his Cubs. There was Soapy or Christopher Mullane, who was the drummer in our band, and his brother Pigeon (William). This was the time that all the Bruce Lee movies were playing at the Cosey Cinema and I think Pigeon fancied himself as the Cork version of the martial arts guru. He was forever in the Karate Kid stance, one leg raised, arms at the ready, and cooing to add to the effect. Hence the name.

He was harmless and humorous though and always gave us a great laugh.

“Then there was Piper. Who didn’t like Piper?

“Other nicknames I were The Duck, Doc, Compo, the Kitten, the Badger, Paddy Titrum, Toby, Scholar, Sham, Shakey, BIF (RIP), the Hobbit, Babyface, Noddy, Swanky, Jimmy the Yank, and many more.

“Then there were the abbreviations of Paddy O, John D, Noel C, ET, TJ, AJ, KC, DC, and many more.

“Our beloved Paddy Titrum, in his tweed jacket, wellington boots, and matching cap askew on his head, would make his rounds around town and bring smiles to all who meet him.

“As children, we were first afraid, but when we got to know him he was sweet and harmless. Arriving in to the pub, he would add another layer to the already rich evening.

“I’m reminded of an occasion when Paddy was in some bar and the question was asked who could name all the counties of Ireland. Paddy says ‘I can, I can’, and proceeds to name them all; ‘Cork, Kerry, Limerick, Tipperary, Newmarket, Rockchapel, Banteer, Mallow.., Well you can imagine the laughter.

A tribute to him hangs in the snug of the Alley Bar and it captures him perfectly.

“Another character I want to mention is Don Reilly. Don would make the daily rounds visiting everyone, happily sauntering up Main Street and Percival Street, his arms swinging. One and all liked Don and would cheerfully stand him a lemonade or orange. As colourful a character as you would meet on your travels.

“Once, when very young, Don was over in the old park and swinging off of the branches of one of the tall old trees. Along comes the grey- haired and feisty Fr McCarthy, a character unto himself. He could be seen puttering around town in his old yellow Volkswagen and his sermons could be sharp and caustic or witty and hilarious.

“Well, everyone knew that you could not talk down to Don. Don was his own man. a Prince in the Kingdom of the Old Park.

“Father McCarthy says to Don: ‘Come down from there, Don, before you hurt yourself.’ Don replies, not meaning to be offensive, but in the ‘just leave me alone’ attitude, “F- off Father.”

Fr McCarthy replies in a flash, “F- off yourself, Don,” and with a swish of his black robes, struts off in temper. Uncharacteristic and characteristic both.”

Stephen adds: “Last year, I was above in Bob’s bar in the throng of a Friday night. In walks Don to many greetings and pats on the back. He s our little circle and is proud and smiling that he soon is to turn 40. I hadn’t seen Don in years. I can’t when.

“Out of the corner of his eye he spots me and without missing a beat says. ‘You’re home on a visit Steve, welcome back,’ and continues with his conversation. I was amazed and touched.

Don is an important thread in the fabric of our colour and personality.

“Working in the bar, you learned what the usual was for each customer. For some it was the nod of a head or the tilt of a glass that let you knew the order. Sometimes I felt like an auctioneer taking secret bids.

“Filling a pint was like an art piece: some liked it flat, others with a rich, tall head. Learning to tend bar at an early age for my keep was a pain and nuisance at the time, but looking back it gave me some qualities and skills in reading and treating people that are invaluable in life.

“I always felt that a bar man was like a priest, there to hear your woes if needed, knowing when to listen, when to talk, and always with discretion.

“As a child I quickly learned how to answer the phone discreetly in the hallway outside the bar door. I still someone yelling loudly in the door, while holding the receiver, ‘Johnny... Are you here?’

“There were great socials held on Friday or Saturday evenings. The three-bar Superser heater would have been lit in the late afternoon and the floor scattered with dance crystals.

“I can still hear The Kadettes, with their amazing music; Neilus on the smooth sax, Lily smiling on the keyboard, and Jackie grinning on the drums .

What great nights they were, and as well as the wonderful dancing, the old favourite singers would come up to sing.

“Timmy Lynch, my uncle Paddy solo or in a duet with soft-voiced Aunt Eilish, Michael Linehan or Bowman, the aforementioned Peter O’Neill, and many more.

“One would wish for nights as these now, and even though I might have been grumbling back then that I was working, what I didn’t realise was that I was witnessing a play of life with a host of amazing characters intermingling on a nightly show that would entertain for years.

“I think of the faces now and sadly few of them are left. None can fill the void left in their wake.

What wonderful characters we had and what amazing memories they gave us!

Stephen’s family ran the Commercial Arms as a hotel from around 1970to 1985. “It became Madigans after that, but now has an Indian restaurant, plus a newly-opened pizza house where the bar was. Sic transit gloria mundi…”

Wonderful recollections, Stephen. You make it all come alive again. The rest of you, if you enjoyed that, get writing and tell us your own memories! Email [email protected] or leave a comment on our Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/echolivecork.