I am enjoying this Endsleigh Remembers project but I am surprised I don’t remember more. Most of my memories growing up revolve around my family. Anne-Marie Hayes sent a message to our WhatsApp group last night. She remembers a bad storm, circa 1973. A huge tree had fallen across the entrance to the estate blocking traffic in and out. Joe McCarthy, who lived in No. 6 and worked as a camera-man for RTE interviewed five children sitting on top of the tree. It was on the 6 0’Clock News that night. According to Anne-Marie I was in the middle of those five children. How do I not remember that?
I do remember trees being a big part of our childhood. Before it was turned into houses, Endsleigh Estate was a very large garden attached to Endsleigh House. The House was bought by Daisy Corrigan and turned into Regina Mundi Secondary School for girls. I went there and actually that’s a whole chapter I could mine for stories. We had to wear lumpy purple uniforms - the royal colour - according to Daisy befitting our place in the world as queens. According to my son, who told me shortly after he started secondary school himself, the boys' schools have a ratings for the girls' schools; Christ King school was known as ‘Christ, they’re ugly’ and Regina Mundi was ‘Reject a monkey’. The best-looking girls, according to this rating, attended Scoil Mhuire.
The trees that bordered the old garden were retained during the house building with the result that all the houses backing onto the perimeter of the estate had mature trees at the end of their gardens. This was lovely except our south-facing garden contained eight huge evergreen trees which blocked the sun completely resulting in our garden and our kitchen constantly being in the shade. This depressed my mother but Mr Sheehan whose house backed onto ours would not allow my parents to cut down them down even though they were growing on our side of the fence. Then came the big storm in January 1974 felling all but one of the evergreens. Better still, they fell into Mr Sheehan’s garden. My mother was ecstatic. In one fell swoop our garden and kitchen emerged from shadow into gorgeous, dazzling sunlight.
The O’Hanlon’s next door, also had a row of evergreens at the bottom of their garden which fell too but the trees collapsed into their garden rather than out. For a week those trees became our playground. The foliage was child-friendly, soft and pliable and came armed with small hard cones which we use as ammo for our war games. All that week, O'Hanlon's garden was the go to place for every child in Endsleigh.
I do remember trees being a big part of our childhood. Before it was turned into houses, Endsleigh Estate was a very large garden attached to Endsleigh House. The House was bought by Daisy Corrigan and turned into Regina Mundi Secondary School for girls. I went there and actually that’s a whole chapter I could mine for stories. We had to wear lumpy purple uniforms - the royal colour - according to Daisy befitting our place in the world as queens. According to my son, who told me shortly after he started secondary school himself, the boys' schools have a ratings for the girls' schools; Christ King school was known as ‘Christ, they’re ugly’ and Regina Mundi was ‘Reject a monkey’. The best-looking girls, according to this rating, attended Scoil Mhuire.
The trees that bordered the old garden were retained during the house building with the result that all the houses backing onto the perimeter of the estate had mature trees at the end of their gardens. This was lovely except our south-facing garden contained eight huge evergreen trees which blocked the sun completely resulting in our garden and our kitchen constantly being in the shade. This depressed my mother but Mr Sheehan whose house backed onto ours would not allow my parents to cut down them down even though they were growing on our side of the fence. Then came the big storm in January 1974 felling all but one of the evergreens. Better still, they fell into Mr Sheehan’s garden. My mother was ecstatic. In one fell swoop our garden and kitchen emerged from shadow into gorgeous, dazzling sunlight.
The O’Hanlon’s next door, also had a row of evergreens at the bottom of their garden which fell too but the trees collapsed into their garden rather than out. For a week those trees became our playground. The foliage was child-friendly, soft and pliable and came armed with small hard cones which we use as ammo for our war games. All that week, O'Hanlon's garden was the go to place for every child in Endsleigh.
Speaking of war games and nothing to do with trees but one of the games we had growing up were 'rock fights.' Most driveways then were gravel so there was plenty of ammunition. We’d split up into gangs and hiding behind gate pillars we’d lob stones at each other. I don’t remember any adults stopping us. One Saturday morning, Dad had just taken a casserole out of the oven when he told me to go outside and call Stephen and Tommy in. I exited the back door and standing at the gate roared, “Stephen, your dinner is ready.” Just then a rock same sailing through the air from the direction of O’Hare’s and hit me in the forehead. With blood streaming down my face, I ran crying into to Dad. Dad drove me into the South Infirmary. I got three stitches. It has just occurred to me that scars on my face are not such a novelty after all. Accusations were made and the denials were robust but nobody got into trouble over it and it didn't stop the rock fights.
The O’Hanlon’s also had an enormous Beech Tree. The first accessible branches were 12 feet from the ground. Mr O’Hanlon nailed a wooden pallet to the first branches which we used as a tree house. The pallet was big enough to support six children comfortably. One morning, Deirdre O’Hanlon, Rosemarie McCarthy and I were up the tree. We were eating something. They finished first and decided to walk out onto the branch that was supporting the pallet. Holding onto the branch directly over them they stood on the branch bouncing gently and chatting. I finished what I was eating and decided to join them. But as I did so, the standing branch suddenly snapped, and I fell to the ground screaming in agony while Deirdre and Rosemarie were left dangling above me. They jumped down landing beside me. Rosemarie said, “I’ll get your father.” With all my screaming, I’d say my father already knew. Dad always cooked on Saturday while Mum went into ‘town.’ He turned off the oven. Carried me into the Ford Cortina and took me to A&E in the South Infirmary. I remember we were kept waiting for hours and in the end the broken arm was only a sprain. I was so disappointed. The wrapped the arm in bandages and put me in a sling. I had something to show for my ordeal.
Stephen remembers being up that same beech tree with Dermot O’Hanlon. They climbed up much further than us. They were at least forty feet up for the ground when suddenly Dermot fell. Branches that could have broken his fall snapped and broke away. He landed on the ground heavily but got up and said he was ok. A week later, Stephen and Dermot were playing on the swings near Douglas Swimming Baths. Dermot fell off a swing two feet from the ground and broke his arm. But that’s Stephen’s memory, I should let him tell that one.
The O’Hanlon’s also had an enormous Beech Tree. The first accessible branches were 12 feet from the ground. Mr O’Hanlon nailed a wooden pallet to the first branches which we used as a tree house. The pallet was big enough to support six children comfortably. One morning, Deirdre O’Hanlon, Rosemarie McCarthy and I were up the tree. We were eating something. They finished first and decided to walk out onto the branch that was supporting the pallet. Holding onto the branch directly over them they stood on the branch bouncing gently and chatting. I finished what I was eating and decided to join them. But as I did so, the standing branch suddenly snapped, and I fell to the ground screaming in agony while Deirdre and Rosemarie were left dangling above me. They jumped down landing beside me. Rosemarie said, “I’ll get your father.” With all my screaming, I’d say my father already knew. Dad always cooked on Saturday while Mum went into ‘town.’ He turned off the oven. Carried me into the Ford Cortina and took me to A&E in the South Infirmary. I remember we were kept waiting for hours and in the end the broken arm was only a sprain. I was so disappointed. The wrapped the arm in bandages and put me in a sling. I had something to show for my ordeal.
Stephen remembers being up that same beech tree with Dermot O’Hanlon. They climbed up much further than us. They were at least forty feet up for the ground when suddenly Dermot fell. Branches that could have broken his fall snapped and broke away. He landed on the ground heavily but got up and said he was ok. A week later, Stephen and Dermot were playing on the swings near Douglas Swimming Baths. Dermot fell off a swing two feet from the ground and broke his arm. But that’s Stephen’s memory, I should let him tell that one.
Directly opposite Mrs Eustace, who lived in No. 4, was the ‘Easy Tree’. This was a joy of a tree that even a toddler could climb. Nobody fell out of that one.
just gorgeous!
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