John McCullagh

John McCullagh March 13, 2012

“This is Tass Murphy again! I was born up in Derrybeg. Before the Derrybeg Estate houses were built. There was a wee lane, up where Parkhead Crescent is now. There was a pile of us: the McCoys, Begleys, Hartes, McClellands – Michael John Benett, McKevitts, Raymy hamilton, Fegans, Gunner Devlin, Feehans – all gone! We […]

John McCullagh March 13, 2012

A hundred years I have stood Looking out over those dark hills … A hundred years I have seen them come From child to man, down those stiffened slopes: I have stretched my hand to grasp their fears Soothed their sorrows, heard their grief All their whispered words of hope, like silent encrustations – Hang […]

John McCullagh March 6, 2012

If you feel strange using this revamped format, just join the gang!  This is my first effort at adding a story. This is a short but memorable poem by William Allingham. Four ducks on a pond, A grass-bank beyond. A blue sky of Spring, White clouds on the wing: Ah, what a small thing To […]

John McCullagh March 6, 2012

The Newry Journal started over nine years ago.  Here are a few screenshots from over that time – since we will be changing the design of the site over the coming weeks.

John McCullagh February 25, 2012

Amazingly, it is thirty-six years ago.  I have two children older than that!  I’d like to learn where they all are now. (No!  Not my children.  They keep me informed.  The Abbey boys, I mean!).  Here’s a start!  

John McCullagh February 19, 2012

This morning I attended Mass at St Catherine’s Dominican Church, said by Fr Tumelty of Dromalane. Yesterday I got Mass in Notre Dame, Paris and the day before at Sacre Coeur, Montmartre. Congregations dwindle everywhere.