We were in the company of Margaret, Noel and Tony McLoughlin, Sadie and Joe Fearon and that ’font of knowledge’, Muskie Cunningham. These people are all originals from the Chapel St/Boat St area and all cousins and friends of my late mother who hailed from Chapel St.  Margaret McLaughlin (Mrs. McGrath, nowadays) was my godmother.  I tried to convince her that my Christening took place in 1963 but she is quite convinced it was 1949.

With company like that, all one had to do was light the touch-paper and stand back, figuratively speaking.  We were regaled with anecdotes and narratives from an era gone by, side-splitting stories so funny that you could not do them justice when retold later, and stories so sad it would have brought tears from a stone.

T.C. Gorman whose formative years were spent in Castle St briefly joined our company and recounted a tale about his mother and my Aunt Mary Dean going to tackle a local teacher over some minor misdemeanour that T.C. committed during his schooldays.  Modesty forbids me retelling the tale because I would not do it justice, and it was a bit risqué, but it was one of the many high-lights of a great night.

The event awakened in me a pride in that area that was long dormant within me.  I spent many a happy care free summer in that area in the 50’s: this was my Elysian Field; no continental holidays for me, (they were not invented in those days) when I stayed with my Granny McCann, my Aunt Sue Cunningham, and the Muskies up behind the gasworks.  I was very disappointed my other cousins the Dean family who used to live in River St.  but are now resident in London and Spain were not present at the function.  But knowing them as I do, they were with us in spirit.  Their contributions alone reciting stories about their mother, my Aunt Mary, would have been worth the admission fee.  We also heard stories of working class people who were born into a period of great deprivation but had this great capacity to rise above this hardship with an indomitable, unquenchable spirit and rear good families who went out and made their mark on the world.  There must be a lot of proud ancestors looking down from above.

On the night in question Patsy Heaney’s footwork reminded all present what a fit young man he once was, when he was boxing in the Newry Bosco Club all those years ago.  Pity about that shirt Patsy!  Bobo Price commented that he was only wearing it for a dare.  Howard MacAlpine also demonstrated some fancy footwork on the dance floor, again reminding one and all of his penalty box exploits for Newry Crusaders in the mid-60’s. (Oops sorry about that Howard.)

I have a cornucopia of memories to last me a long time.  It is imperative that I mention Stephanie and Kate Fearon who went out of their way to get us home at such a late hour.  I just was not up to standing at the gasworks and thumbing a lift to the ‘Point;  this old pensioner will not forget your generosity. My mother would talk fondly of her humble origins in the Chapel St. area, and particularly ‘down the entry’, during the 20’s, 30’s and the 40’s, (she definitely was a reluctant Warrenpoint resident, much to my father‘s chagrin).

She would earnestly say what a great community her birthplace was, what great neighbours they had, what great characters there were locally.  As I am now the keeper of the flame in our family, I can readily identify with her thoughts and feelings.