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Personal Stories

Patricia Clarke’s Story

My name is Patricia Clarke (nee Leech) and my sister is Margaret Kelly (nee Leech). My father was Walter Leech and my mother Mary Henderson.

I was born on the 19th July 1932, my sister was born on 20th May 1930. We lived at 19 North William St with my father, older brother Jim, younger brother Colm and baby sister Deirdre. My mother had just died on the 2nd March of 1941.  She was 32, leaving a young family, my brother Jim was 13, Margie was 10, I was 8 and a half, Colm was 6 and Deirdre was only 1 and a half.

My father came from Charleville Mall, his parents before him had a business bringing turf and wood from the country on the barges along the canals for CIE and other companies. They lived in a cottage on the canal at Ballybough Bridge. My uncle worked on the barges and when they came from the country, they would put the horses in the stables at the cottage on the canal for feeding and resting. When my father got married his parents gave him the house at 19 North William Street as a wedding present. The house was directly opposite St Agatha’s Church on the corner of North William Street and Dunne Street (where the old folks homes were later built).

My mother came from No. 20 Summerhill Parade. My mother’s father, David Henderson was Corporal in the British Army and fought in the Boer War and in India. When he returned to Dublin he opened a shoe repair business in the front room which was converted to a shop, at the family home at No. 20 Summerhill Parade. My Grandmother, (my mother’s mother), came from Arklow and moved to Summerhill Parade when she got married, she lived all her life there and died at a ripe old age of 99 and eight months (she just missed her £100 birthday gift from the Government by 4 months). After my grandfather died Mr Byrne rented the shoe repair shop and carried on his business there until he died years later.

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Personal Stories

Jim O’Brien’s Story

My father had a hackney car and worked the areas of Stephen’s Green, Merrion Row and Baggot Street. He was a jarvey. His name was Edward O’Brien and he had a white horse named Marengo. He parked around the Shelbourne Hotel and picked up visitors from all around the world to bring them to North Strand to see where the bombings had occurred.

Editor’s Note: Memories written at Fighting Words Writing Workshop on North Strand Bombing at Casino Forum Group, Marino, Dublin 3, 17 June 2011

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Personal Stories

Rita Brady’s Story

The night of the bombs I was fifteen years old and lived in Croydon Park Avenue. I had reserved a gold watch at the jewellers Fitzpatrick’s on North Strand and was paying for it in weekly installments so I would have it for Christmas.

I noticed some noise during the night but my first worry was that the jewellers would be gone and therefore the savings would be gone but it was fine and the watch was there and bought for Christmas.  Everyone was talking about the bomb and rushing to see where it fell.   Was afraid it would happen again. Not knowing was frightening.  People were talking and walking down to see it. Some people were crying, everyone was in shock.

We had a radio. So neighbours would come in to listen to the news, which ended up being very social.  The radio was nice and clear and we were the only family on the street with a radio.

I come from a family of four girls and one boy. Father was foreman checker in Sir John Rogerson Quay. We got a penny pocket money on Saturday. My father worked half a day on Saturday. We would be sitting outside waiting for him to get our penny and then we ran down to the shops to buy sweets. The bombings didn’t affect him getting to work. But my mammy was worried and prayed for him

Editor’s Note: Memories written at Fighting Words Writing Workshop on North Strand Bombing at Casino Forum Group, Marino, Dublin 3, 17 June 2011

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Personal Stories

Jim Morrison’s Story

I was born 5th June 1932 at 47 Bessboro Avenue, North Strand Road. My parents were Edward Morrison and Brigid Butterly.  Father lived in Shaw Street; Mother came from Baldoyle, Co. Dublin. And the people from Baldoyle always said we are going to Dublin. It was an excursion in those days.  I should have said there were one girl and four boys in the family. I was the third eldest.  Life was very simple when we were children in so far as people were all on the same level.  People never heard the word Nationalism.  We would not have known what it meant.  They were happy times. People were content. They were happy days as we did not need a lot to amuse ourselves.  I suppose a big happening in my life was the North Strand bombings. In May ‘41 we were living in Bessboro Avenue at the time beside the North Strand cinema built in 1936 which protected us to some degree.  I and two brothers were asleep in a double bed. The noise of the planes etc wakened us and when the bomb fell on the North Strand we heard a whistle before the explosions.  We seemed to sense danger as we braced ourselves before the bomb fell. I was nine years old at the time and attending the St Vincent de Paul School in North William Street very near where the bomb fell.  School was closed for a period as there were damage and traffic restrictions.  It was a beautiful morning next day and we were up early going around the area and child like if we found a piece of waste metal we would say say that’s a bit of the bomb, I suppose we were too young to appreciate the seriousness of the situation but young enough to remember there were beautiful leaded lights (windows) of Biblical figures on all the windows shattered. They were never replaced because it was too expensive at the time. Priests from the Church attended the injured.  The roofs and ceilings were replaced at no charge where we lived.  I remember buildings in the aftermath of damage being pulled down by men tying rope around the chimneys and using a lorry to pull the dangerous buildings down.  Also a lady who lived in our avenue suggested we all go to Fairview Park as there were no buildings in the park to fall on us. However, in hindsight, I think this was not such a good idea.

Editor’s Note: Memories written at Fighting Words Writing Workshop on North Strand Bombing at Casino Forum Group, Marino, Dublin 3 , 17 June 2011

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Personal Stories

Ann Ryder’s Story

I was six when the bombs fell. All I remember is the loud noise. My parents were awake. They told me to go back to sleep as they said it was only thunder. I recall that my mother was standing on a chair with her head out of the window. My father was in bed telling her to get down for god’s sake. We lived beside Croke Park so my mother could see that something had happened beyond Croke Park on the North Circular Road.  I went to William Street School. Every window in the school was broken so we had not school for a while.  The lovely windows in the Church were in smithereens.  We went down next day to the site but were not allowed near it.  I remember the gas masks; we kept them under the stairs. That’s where my father told us we would have to go if bombs fell again. The air raid shelters were filthy and no one would go into them. We had an air-raid practice every Saturday morning when the siren would go off. Then the siren came on again-the all clear. I think we were supposed to go to the shelters. We never did.

Editor’s Note: Memories written at Fighting Words Writing Workshop on North Strand Bombing at Casino Forum Group, Marino, Dublin 3 on 17 June 2011