Unlike today, when everyone expects a week or two away, in the 1940s holidays were unknown. So when the Bosco Club in Kilmorey Street decided to arrange a week’s holiday in Cranfield for its senior members (‘senior’ as in youthful but members of some years standing!), pandemonium broke loose. The arguments began as to who was and who wasn’t going!
When things were eventually settled I think everyone was ecstatic and the happy throng set off for their holidays. For those unused to it, a week seemed a long time to be away from home. Some parents arranged an evening bus trip to the holiday camp to reassure their boys. They were pleasantly surprised with what they saw: the boys were housed in Army Nissan huts (with corrugated roofs) and were enjoying the experience of sea, sand and a Mediterranean tan to boot! After some refreshments the parents returned home happy.
Needless to say, this holiday became an annual affair for some years after, but unfortunately my pals and I were too young to attend them.
On the last Monday in July all of Newry closed down for the Newry General Holiday. Trips were organised by many organisations to all arts and parts of the country. Men, women and children all got involved. The one our family looked forward to most was the Mitchel memorial train trip to
Superstition was strong in those days and as we passed over the