All I wanted was to be back in the Meadow or “Medda” with the prospect of street football - or indeed anything but this dancing lark.

Yet I was about to get involved in a great, life-changing experience.

Irish Dancing has given me memories to treasure.

So it was Thursdays with Arthur Burns. No problem.

Dancing? Big problem! Dancing with girls, bigger problem still! And then thee problem, the wearing of a kilt.  At times I looked at my mother and seriously wondered about her and the direction of my life.  Football was easier to understand, even playing out in the street was easier, but this lark?  It was to push me to consider, ever so slightly, leaving home, the great Ballinlare Gardens!  Or throwing a weekly sickie on a Thursday.  Yet my mother was wise to this and still I ended up in the Foresters’ Hall.

When I look back I am amazed at the number of families that I was privileged to get to know, from my participation with Ceilidhe Dancing. So if I leave any out, please feel free to add your names (via Guestbook here) because I certainly have damaged some brain cells over the years.

This is my generation because there were ones before and after me.  From the “Medda”  the Allen, Ruddy, Campbell, McManus, Fitzpatrick, Teggart, Poland, Murphy and Courtenay families. I will let the reader add the Christian names.

From Clanrye Avenue or perhaps Daisy Hill, the Murphy’s. From Bessbrook came the Young and Quinn families. Dromalane had the Jennings, Moore, Rea and Carroll families and I know I am missing names out here.  The Fegans of Derrybeg Cottages. The Nolan family from Castle Street.  The McManus family from Courtenay Hill.

The Sweeneys from Carrivemaclone.  The McNally family from Rostrevor. The Kearns from Warrenpoint Road.

So to my memories. I hated Newry Feis, but for one reason only. The chance of being seen by mates, school or otherwise, wearing a kilt.  I distinctly remember the day my mother took us outside the Town hall for a photograph and she wondered why I would not smile! The fear of God was in me of being caught with a kilt on.

 I loved being encamped in the hall though and the buzz and tension of competition. Newry had that edge in competitions.

 I loved Newcastle Feis, the bus trip, the craic at the field and the weather. There was also the chance of a bit of boating if Arthur was in a kind or relaxed mood, and not pushing to return early.

My first trip to the Ulster championships was in 1970 in Derry and we were staying in the Bogside.  Irish Dancing was broadening my horizons.

For some unknown reason I stayed because the Irish dancing had the craic element that I enjoyed as I grew older.  The sense of enjoyment was tempered by the sheer nerve-wrecking ordeal of dancing ‘solo’, - all too much for me.  I loved the team dancing.  As I got older I was to dance in the big teams.  The Sword of Light, the Rose among the Heather and my favourite, the Four Winds.  We danced these Three Tunes so often, even I got sick of it.

 Now back to 1970 because it was to have thee piece of magic. Arthur had persuaded me to renege on a school trip to France and instead join the group going to the South of France for the two-week summer trip.  It was here along the Côte D’Azur that I finally felt at ease wearing the kilt. It was a glorious evening as we strolled back in full costume from the International Folk Festival, to head for our Café for the craic, when out of the blue, this girl ran up to me with a piece of paper and a pen in her hand.  She wanted my autograph!!  Talk about fame! Give me this anytime! I wore a real stupid smile for the rest of the night. It could only happen in Nice, never Newry and I was so pleased.

Oh one more event was dancing the Three Tunes in this village square when the “threading of the needle” was to happen.  One big problem, we were dancing around this tree, so there was this hurried scramble and a holding of dignity but we still made it.  Arthur though was laughing at the unexpected ending.

Unfortunately I was unable to make the next trip in 1973.

One more international trip. This time to Rome and Sicily. Memorable moment, Rome. We are all heading out of the hotel for the audience with the Pope when Arthur sends us back in.  Get changed! He ordered. We had to be in costume.

It was while in the Audience Hall that Eamon Ruddy was going to have a “nun” experience and a fight to hold on to his dignity.  He still talks about this unholy episode in this holy of holy places with the Pope high on his chair and only feet away.

Another negative thing was that because of the very tight security we were not allowed to actually dance for the Pope. A person cannot have everything.

What I did not know was that this was to be my last international trip.

The next few years saw an enjoyment in Irish dancing. Winning was not important, just the fun we had when we danced together. I did attempt one last solo dance at competition but it was too much of an assault on my nerves.  I knew my limitations.

 I suppose if I was to try to remember everything this would turn out to be a right epic with the great chance of leaving someone out and thus creating offence.

I look back at it and I remember the joy my mother had when we returned from Killeavy Feis with our first-ever medals: the joy she shared with all the other mothers when we won in Newry and being there in the hall to see it. The first and only time I was ever called back for a recall at solo level - and at Newry of all places. I wanted to die, the old nerves again. The only saving grace was my mum was not there.

Brendan Quinn on a packed Saturday Newry Feis Championship night, the hall was extremely quiet and tense as Brendan listened to a radio and an England-Scotland match. Scotland scored and Brendan roared and everyone was looking at us.  Time to die again. An intricate six hand reel only once performed at Newry Feis. Being sent to a Dundalk Feis in full costume on the normal bus service and hoping people would not notice my legs.

I had a few regrets when it all ended.  I missed it so but more so the people I met along the way.  Years later I am sitting with my mother so I asked her why I was sent in the first place.

 To keep me off the streets?

 No! 

To keep me from falling into bad company?

 No!

 

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It was to cure my brother’s stammer! 

 

There’s ju.. ju.. just ne.. ne.. no  no answer to the.. thee.  the.. that!