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A selection of Memories from the people of the Clare Guest Teas and Hops by Anne Barbour Walking to Mass - Memories of Kathleen Cairns The two ton book by Gerald O'Dowd. The Ghost by Rosemary McGrann (nee Rafferty) From Kerry to Clare by Mrs Hendron Continuing a Long Tradition by Frank O'Dowd. A family bond by Diane Campbell ( nee O'Dowd). Memories of a Clare Altar Boy by Greg O'Dowd First Fridays on the back of a bike by Eamon Campbell The price of a wedding by W.J Greene (Joe) Plantation Road. Memories of a blow in by John McGrann. Sunday Devotions by Margaret McCann, Dunkirk Road The Bleary Bus by Mrs Josie Lavery, Cranny Road, Bleary. A Lorry to Mass by Jacqueline McDonnell (nee Lavery) The Clare Choir by Mrs Cassie McAlinden. Cranny Road, Bleary. Retreats and Sports by Brian Toman. Sugar Island. Bleary. The oldest memories of the Clare by Chris Fitzpatrick (nee Toman). A responsible job by Eamon Magee The mystery of the dead cat by Charlie Monaghan. The wedding tractor by Myrtle Maguire (nee Murphy). A family of altar boys by Bridie O'Dowd. An unbroken connection with the Clare Memories of Lily Moore. The Two fingered Organist by Catherine McEvoy The Clare Gate Parish by Noel McEvoy Altar wine and candles by Jim Rafferty Christmas Memories of Theresa Murphy(nee Curran) by Mrs Anne Murphy. Ever the Diplomat Recounted by Arthur Crothers Redmond and the Zulu Priest by Eddie Diamond. Memories of my parents, Austin & Ruby Donnelly by Ann Donnelly The Clare - a Thatched Mass house by Kathleen Carragher. Fond Memories by Gemma Madden (nee Prentice). Recent Memories of the Clare by Marie O'Dowd.
Collected the “Dues” weekly from people in Ballydougan area. Recorded in book and same returned weekly with money to Priest.
Also enlisted by the “Heating Committee” to go round the houses and collect money to enable heating system to be put into the Clare…1950's…money collected weekly. Heating Committee…Agnes Lavery ( nee O'Dowd), Maggie Moore (nee Green), Kathleen Reavey, John Morrow, Frank Vallery, Jimmy McEvoy.
Member of Legion of Mary & meetings each Tuesday night in Ballydougan Hall. Members of Pioneers Association cleaned Clare Chapel.
Fr. Frank Trainor took a very active interest in theClare congregation. Organised Guest Teas in Ballydougan Hall which generated much income for any Church repairs or alterations. Ann recalls herself and friends cleaning the hall in preparation for the event & on the night Eamon lit the fire in the hall. Guest Teas were extremely well supported & much enjoyed. Great craic and often very competitive in terms of who had the best table spread and nicest food. Fr Fank also organized “Pioneer Hops” for the youth, again in Ballydougan Hall.
Fr Frank also took Legion of Mary on trips….one particular trip was to climb Slieve Gullion & Ann remembers everyone dressing up for the occasion…. wearing their very best and being oblivious to the day ahead many young ladies wore high heeled shoes, stockings , white shoes etc. etc….not the most practical for climbing mountains. However the fun was everything.
Member of the Clare Choir with her sister Margaret. Don't recall having musical accompaniment just sang their hearts out. Legion of Mary was great craic with mischief always interspersed among the prayers. The secret bag always produced a few surprises. On one occasion Seamus O'Dowd joined the young Ladies dressed up in a wig & ladies clothes and shoes etc…as a new member! Walking to Mass - Memories of Kathleen Cairns . Kathleen remembers going to Mass in the Clare Chapel from she was a very young girl. She would have walked there with her family and neighbours and remembers the great “craic” everyone had along the way. One particular memory is of a time when she and her sister arrived early at Mass early and wandered up to the choir area to have a look at the organ. They both had a love for music and were standing just looking at the organ in awe when the Priest appeared from the Vestry and shouted to them ”You aren't in Ballydougan Hall now”! With flushed faces they quietly moved away from the organ and never dared to go near the choir again.
Kathleen & Seamus had 16 children who also attended Mass in the Clare. The girls were active in the choir and the Legion of Mary and some of the younger boys were Altar Boys. Kathleen continues to attend the Clare each Sunday for Mass with members of her family. The two ton book by Gerald O'Dowd.
One of my earliest memories from my childhood is of me standing in a cowshed learning how to speak Latin. No, I am not hallucinating. The year was 1961, and as I had just made my First Holy Communion a few weeks before, it was time to follow in my big brothers footsteps and indeed my Fathers, and become an altar boy in the Clare. This was before the second Vatican Council when the Mass was said in Latin, hence my nightly lessons in the byre learning the ancient tongue from my Father while he did the milking. Night after night he taught me how to pronounce the seemingly unpronounceable until gradually the words came out right, grew into phrases and then sentences, until at last I was fluent in the Latin responses. Little did it matter that I had no idea what I was saying or what the strange words meant and it wasn't until years later when the transition was made from Latin to English that I realized what I had been rhyming off all those times at Mass. Now I could swap the dank odour of the cow byre for the sweet smell of incense on the altar and join the other dozen or so boys in the ranks of altar servers. At that time we had no such thing as a rota or anything like that, so if all the boys decided to turn up at once, as they often did, it must have seemed to the congregation that a mini conclave of Cardinals was trooping out of the vestry for Sunday Mass.
Before Mass would begin, the head altar boy would allocate duties for different boys to perform during the ceremony; one to ring the small bell; one to ring the big bell by striking it with a padded mallet, one to do the Communion plate and two to bring the water and wine to the altar.
But the one job everybody hated, and tried to avoid was holding the “two-ton” book. During a Latin Mass the Priest stood with his back to the congregation, reading silently from a large leather bound missal which rested on a solid brass ornate stand on the altar. The two together made it quite heavy hence the irreverent nick name. Now, at the appointed time the altar boy would leave the safety of his row of colleagues kneeling at the bottom step, go to the centre of the altar, genuflect, walk up the four steps to the altar, lift the heavy object from the altar on the Priest's left side, turn and walk back down the steps, genuflect, walk back up the steps and place the book on the altar at the Priest's right side. It was a precarious manoeuvre which often ended in disaster as many a time the book would slip out of its stand and crash onto the floor or even onto the head of an unsuspecting altar boy on the steps below. Such was the complexity of the moving of the book that it had to be practiced many times in an empty Church before being allowed to attempt it at Mass in front of a congregation. It was made all the harder because you knew the other boys, and indeed I suspect some of the congregation were willing you to drop it also! I would safely say there are no boys from that era who could honestly put their hand up and say that they never dropped the “two-ton” book.
Before Mass began the men-folk would mingle outside the Chapel gates for a chat. Men adorned in their Sunday best, wearing a hat or a flat cap would lean over the cemetery walls, smoke their pipes or cigarettes and regale each other with tales and talk of the weather. They would give a considered opinion of the big news story of the week, generally put the world to rights or read from a newspaper bought from a nearby stall. Good craic was to be had and often laughter and loud voices echoed across the graveyard into the vestry. Then, five minutes before Mass was due to begin an altar boy would be sent to call the faithful to prayer. This was done by standing on the Chapel step and ringing a large hand-bell. That was the signal for the men to knock out their pipes and stub out their fags, fold up their newspapers and make their way into the Chapel. When Fr Treanor left the Parish and a new man took over he put a stop to this practice. On hearing the bell on the first morning he inquired what it was for. On hearing the explanation, he tut-tutted his disapproval, the hand bell was confiscated and locked in a cupboard, its beckoning chimes consigned to history.
Every summer there was a mission in the Parish. This was when the men in black came forth from the South to put some religion back into the flock. There was usually three of them and there was always a cross one, and always one that you dreaded saying Mass for in case you made a mistake. When the cross one was on, the boys would have tip-toed around the vestry, doing everything quietly and methodically, never speaking unless you were spoken to first and avoiding any deed or word that might set to oul boy off. At these times only the most experienced and intrepid of the boys was allowed anywhere near the “two-ton” book. To drop the word of God at the feet of one of these men would surely incur instant excommunication with the promise of final damnation.
The Mission week was always busy because you had to get up early every morning to serve Mass at 6.00am before going to school and then return in the evening for Devotions. It was always an enjoyable week in the Parish and it had the feel of a social occasion about it as everyone seemed to attend. It also was an opportunity to renew your St. Christopher wristband from the Mission stall.
In the mid sixties the Chapel was closed for renovation and Masses were said in the Ballydougan Hall. The hall being a lot smaller than the Chapel wasn't able to accommodate the same number of boys and a lot of them drifted away. Even after the refurbished Chapel was re-opened they didn't come back and our numbers were greatly reduced. But there were always two events in the Parish which always insured a good turn out of boys. Boys who you hadn't seen for weeks would suddenly turn up for duty ready and willing to take part in the proceedings. And the reason for this sudden frenzy of enthusiasm was of course a wedding or funeral. Not that the boys wanted to share in the joy of the newly married couple or indeed to mourn the passing of a fellow parishioner, but there was always a chance that a few quid would be left for the altar boys. Any donations whether from the recently bereaved or betrothed were always gratefully received in equal measure.
The highlight of the altar boys year was the altar boys trip during the summer holidays to Cranfield or Tryella beach. News of the altar trip always provoked the same response from my Father. It provided yet another opportunity to remind us young fellas that we didn't know we were living and that the only trip he got as an altar boy was around the vestry on the point of the Parish Priests toe.
On the day we would all line up to pile into Leo Kelly's minibus with our sandwiches and a bottle of sarsaparilla under our arm. On reaching the door of the mini bus Fr. Treanor would be waiting to confiscate your pocket money. This was to stop you from spending it foolishly and all at once when you arrived. So into the bag went the half-crowns, the shillings and the sixpences for safe keeping while the good Father took a note of your deposit. Little did he know, although with hindsight I suspect he did, the boys all had coins secreted down their socks and in their shoes to be spent as quickly and as foolishly as was possible. At appointed times during the day Fr Treanor would open the bank and a queue would form outside the wound-down window of his little car. Then he would dole out a few more shillings from your account to keep you going for another couple of hours. It was a testament to the man's generosity that you always got much more than was put in. There was always enough to buy the obligatory penknife or petrol lighter.
The innocence of the sixties drifted past as indeed did our childhoods. Adolescence and the seventies beckoned. Those awful seventies whose terrible legacy is often recorded on marble in our little Churchyard, but those are stories for another place and from the pen of a more worthy author. I left the altar in 1969 to make way for new blood. Besides, at the age of fifteen the term altar boy was probably a violation of the trades description act. It was only when I started to write this piece I realized that our boys were playing an important part not only in the history of the Parish but of the Church as a whole. We would have been the last to attend and serve at a Latin Mass in the Clare Chapel after 160 years, and the first to attend and serve at a Mass celebrated in English. We would have witnessed and taken part in a lot of the changes that followed from Vatican Two and that makes our time as altar boys just a bit extra special. Of course now they are referred to as altar servers because girls are now doing the job, a concept which would have been totally unthinkable in our day. Being an altar boy was an intricate part of my growing up and I know my childhood would have been poorer without it. The Ghost by Rosemary McGrann (nee Rafferty)
The Rafferty family has been associated with the Clare Chapel for many years now. My father Paddy Rafferty used to tell me that he took his parents to the Clare Mass by pony and trap. On one occasion coming home from Mass they were joined by a ‘stranger' who accompanied them on part of their journey home. My father and his parents felt sure it was a ghost!
Another story he told me was about a man named Tommy McCoy who lived in the house beside the chapel. My father was seated in the chapel waiting for Mass to begin when Tommy sat down beside him. Tommy leaned over to my father and said “They've started” in his laconic tones to which my father said “pardon”. Tommy then repeated his sentence and again my father had to question him. Eventually he discovered that his hens had begun to lay eggs!!
My brothers Martin and Jim were altAr boys in the Clare during the years when mMss was said in Latin. I remember they always had a special day trip every year.
My earliest memory of going to the Clare Chapel is the Sunday before I was due to start Laurencetown Primary School . I remember leaving the chapel and at the gates met Anne Cairns. My mother and I stopped to have a chat and we told Anne I was starting school the next day – that would have been August 1959. As a child I have very vivid memories of going to ‘The Missions'. The children had to sit in the front row seats with all the girls wearing mantillas or hats. I remember thinking the missioners were very cross men because they always seemed to shout a lot!
The ‘Clare Gates' were always the weekly meeting point where all the latest news was swapped. I can still hear my mother Anna's laughter as I walked up the hill home! My mother always remembered in the November dead list Father Willie Doyle who christened me and who died in his 30's after only a short time in Tullylish.
I was eleven when Joe and Christine Fegan came to live beside the Clare Chapel with their first child Kieran when he was 3 months old. The family grew and when I was home from boarding school I used to baby sit. Joe was full of life and a real prankster. I will always remember the day he was killed in a bomb explosion in 1972 at Newry customs post. This was to be the first of many tragedies to visit the Clare community.
Two of my children Dervla and Oisin were christened in the Clare. The saddest memories of the Clare are when I buried my mother Anna in 1984 and my father Paddy in 1991. The happiest memory for me was when I married John McGrann on the 20 th August 1977 . John, Dervla, Oisin and I still attend the Clare. From Kerry to Clare by Mrs Hendron
After marrying Vincent, Mrs Hendron came to live in the Clare. A Kerry Woman originally, and known to her family & friends as “The Rose of Tralee”, Mrs Hendron found life in the Clare initially very lonely. Then the children were born, seven in total, Patrick, Peter, Frank, Una, Catherine, Maureen and Elizabeth and life was never dull. Mrs Hendron recalls a time when Mass on a Sunday was always packed. Father Lynch, Father Sinnott and Canon Pettit were great Priests.
One event in particular she recalls was the introduction of the envelopes. There was lots of talk and discussion around this. Previously people had given “Dues”. Now a new system was being introduced and people had to sign a covenant for three years at a time. Canon Petit explained everything about this.
During the major renovation to the Clare in 1966/67 everyone went to Mass in Ballydougan Hall. Just before the reopening the priest brought Mrs Hendron to see the newly renovated Chapel. She was very surprised at the layout and changes. Vincent (deceased) was very friendly with Fr. McMullan. He used to visit Hendrons each Thursday evening after Mass and talk about his life as a Missionary Priest and all his travels.
Two daughters Una and Catherine were married in the Clare Chapel. Una married John O'Neill on the 14 th September 1991 & Catherine married Steve on 25 th July 1992. Four grandchildren were baptized in the Clare…Eilidh, Liam, Ciara and Charlotte. Charlotte and Philip were also Altar Servers.
Mrs Hendron and her family continue to clean the Clare Chapel each October and attend Mass there each Sunday morning. Continuing a Long Tradition by Frank O'Dowd.
For many generations the O'Dowd family have prayed in the Clare Chapel. Currently Frank attends each Sunday along with some of his sons and their families … a long tradition being maintained. Earliest memories are of being an Altar Boy with brother Barney and Joe Cloughley in the early 1930's in the time of Canon Joseph Doyle (1914 – 1935), Fr Brown (curate in Gilford), Canon Carr (35-36), Canon Doran (36-48), & Fr. Fegan.
The Mass was very different then with Latin prayers said by the Priest and Altar boys, preceding the Mass itself. The only way to learn the Latin was to listen and learn. Altar boys were never allowed into the main vestry with the Priest. Usually the Canon arrived on horse and trap some time before the start of Mass. The people in the Chapel House had the fire lit in the main vestry. They un-harnessed the horse, put it in a stable and gave it something to eat while the Priest said Mass. Then after Mass the Priest was served his breakfast by the Lady of the Chapel House in the vestry. The Altar Boys remained in the outer vestry and only on exceptional mornings were invited into the Priests vestry to warm themselves at the fire. Frank often recalls that it was sometimes “Ok” to say “Good Morning” to the Priest and sometimes not! It often happened that if they said “Good Morning” they were accused of being insolent to the Priest!
Altar Boys were not allowed to touch the Chalices or Host. It was the Priest himself who attended to all these matters. Altar boys put out the wine and water carafes and lit the candles. There were no readers, Eucharistic Ministers, Collectors etc. but there was a choir with May Molloy as organist. Mass was much more solemn and a place for Prayer. Mass could last over an hour. At Holy Communion the Altar boys turned the white cloth over the altar rails. The people then knelt down at the Altar and placed their hands below this when receiving the Eucharist.
As a youth Frank recalls the men of the Clare gathering holly & ivy from the fields and using this to decorate the Clare at Christmas time. Large ring garlands were made and covered in greenery. Throughout these candles were placed. The garlands were then suspended from the rafters. The window ledges were likewise draped in greenery and candles. On Christmas Eve the candles were lit and the Chapel was filled with people who marveled at its beauty. Many, many people would have come to see the Clare having heard of its beautiful decorations. Many people have noted going to midnight Mass on Christmas Eve as one of their favourite memories.
There was also a tradition of men always sitting on the right hand side of the Chapel and women on the left. Children were sent up to sit in the front rows where everyone could see them (& keep an eye on them). Sermons were long and rambling and at this time the Priest had power and would have told the people what was right and wrong and how to live their lives etc. The “dues” were lifted each quarter and recorded in a book. It was a household payment….and on the Sunday the Priest read the Dues from the Altar… giving each families name and stating the amount given.
Now in its 200 th year Frank and his family like those before him continue to attend the Clare each Sunday. His wife Jean (R.I.P) was a very active member of the Clare Choir and Clare Altar Society. Two grandsons Ciáran & Niáll were Altar Boys in recent years and many Grandchildren and Great-grandchildren have been baptized in the Clare. Also two Granddaughters Caoimhe & Niamh were married in the Clare in 2004 & 2005 respectively. Jean (R.I.P) would have been so proud of the family on these occasions.
As with many in his generation, Frank identifies the Clare as being at the heart of our rural Catholic community. A family bond by Diane Campbell ( nee O'Dowd).
The O'Dowd family has formed a bond with the Clare Chapel that has been created over many generations. There we have worshipped, rejoiced and mourned with our neighbours for generations. I was married in the Clare in 1977. My eldest daughter Caoimhe chose to be married there last October (2004) and my second daughter, Niamh, just in May of this year (2005). My Mother Jean was devoted to the Clare throughout her life. She loved to sing in the choir and encouraged us as children to be part of the choir also. She used her dressmaking skills to provide albs for my brothers and cousins when they served on the altar. My Mother was laid to rest in the Clare graveyard in October 1999.
Although I have not lived in the parish since I married it is my fondness for the Clare and the significance of it in my childhood that brings my family and I back within its doors to worship at important times. Memories of a Clare Altar Boy by Greg O'Dowd
In the early 1960's I joined Fr. Frank Treanor's band of volunteers on the Clare Altar. I can remember the first Sunday I appeared in an oversized black and white outfit which my Mother made on her paddled Singer sewing machine and because of the work that went into it, it was made to last for your full term of service.
After joining the Altar Boys the first task was to learn the Latin responses, for at that time the people stayed silent and the altar boys answered the Priest. This strange language was not learnt from a book, but from listening to the older Altar Boys as they chanted out a response to the Priest. So it was Latin with a Ballydougan-Clare twang.
After learning the responses you then progressed to ringing the bell at Mass, and next to lighting and using the thurible at Benediction. Looking back I now know why they called that decade the swinging 60's. We were not like the servers of today who stand like statues when holding the thurible, for we made it our job to swing that thing till at least the first three rows were overcome with smoke inhalation. My cousin Gabriel O'Dowd was indeed the master of that art.
At that time the altar boys stayed “on” until they were 14 or 15 years old. Now you are thinking “weren't we very religious”…well you are wrong. The reason for this was when you got to the head of your profession i.e. 12 – 15 years old, there was no way you were going to leave and miss the hand-outs from the Brides and Grooms. For that was the perk of the job and on the altar the law of the jungle prevailed. But that was not always the case on the Clare alta,r for Fr. Frank once a year instilled his own brand of Catholic socialism in us. This happened on the Altar Boys day out to Cranfield beach. On arrival he would make every boy turn out his pockets and would collect all their coins with a promise to return them at the end of the day. Then he would dip into his purse and hand everyone a large half-crown for sweets (12 and a half pence by to-days money). His reason was that every boy had the same and none felt left out.
But to finish, although I could go on for hours on this subject, the old ones in the Clare used to have a joke at Mass being at least five minutes longer in the Clare than anywhere else. The reason being it took Fr. Frank five minutes to appear from the vestry, for there was a steady troupe of at least 12-15 Altar Boys to precede him. Weren't we a Holy lot!!! Holy Smoke by Vivian O'Dowd
On my first morning as an Altar Boy I was invited in to stand in front of the fire in the vestry by the Priest. It was a cold day and I gladly stood with my back to the fire gradually warming up. Then it was time to say the Mass. I followed the other boys onto the altar and watched their every move.
As we knelt in prayer I began to notice a strong burning smell. Nudging the boy beside me I whispered to ask him if he could smell something burning. Then to my horror I glanced down to the tail of my alb where a big hole now appeared, smoldering and gradually growing larger. So on my great debut as a Clare Altar Boy, I had to get up and in embarrassment, leave the altar.
No doubt my Mother took over and with great skill and ease did a rescue job, and the same alb was ready for Mass the following Sunday.
Also remember that Fr Frank Treanor encouraged football & the Clare Altar Boy team competed against Laurencetown in football matches for two or three years. Altar Boys in the 60's …..
Eddie Caughey Jim Green Gerald O'Dowd Vincent Green John Vallery Noel McEvoy Martin Rafferty Jim Rafferty Jim Moore Greg Green & Sean Green Noel O'Dowd Vivian O'Dowd & Greg O'Dowd Gabriel O'Dowd Seamus McAlinden & Aidan McAlinden Sean McCartan Liam Moore Peter McVeigh Barney Campbell Tony Tighe Martin Prentice Michael Cairns Seamus Cairns First Fridays on the back of a bike by Eamon Campbell
I have very fond memories of being an Altar Boy in the Clare Chapel during the time of Fr. Doran (later Canon). Fr. Doran used to collect me from the Primary School and after I climbed onto the back of his bike we proceeded to the Clare for First Friday Mass followed by visitation of the sick in their homes. After Mass we called at McStravick's for tea and homemade soda bread.
I recall being an Altar Boy for Margaret (nee McStravick) & John's McCann's wedding. In fact, the very next week when I called to McStravick's with Fr. Doran we were given a slice of wedding cake to enjoy with our tea. I don't recall serving at many Sunday Masses in the Clare, just every First Friday & also during a Mission time. One thing was for sure…there weren't enough first Fridays! The price of a wedding by W.J Greene (Joe) Plantation Road .
Joe recalls that in his younger days the graveyard at the Clare Chapel was like a forest, a wooded area. As a boy he cut and collected the greenery and holly for the Christmas decorations. The married men and adults decorated the Chapel every Christmas. This was around the 1920's & 1930's. At that time the Altar Boys were trained by Peter McCusker (later Fr. McCusker) and Kate Morrow.
Joe himself served at the wedding of John Magee and Maggie Rafferty in Laurencetown Church and was given two shillings, a lot of money at that time. Memories of a blow in by John McGrann.
It does not seem that long ago since I first went to the Clare chapel but it was 1972, 33 years ago. I had got “my feet well under the table” in Paddy and Anna Rafferty's as I was going with their beautiful only daughter, Rosemary. Having been well tested digging in the garden with Paddy and having tried hard to impress Anna with my manners, I was allow to stay overnight on Saturday night in the boys room, it was dangerous in the early 70's to be travelling at night and I could not drive. So on Sunday morning I got up to go to the Clare with the Rafferty family.
My first impression of the Clare Chapel was the unusual layout, the Rafferty's seat meant you sat facing the side of the altar and you could see other people's faces.
Being used to going to large chapels where you were pretty much anonymous, it was a bit disconcerting to go to a small chapel where everyone knew everyone or if they did not they found out very quickly. Everyone was so friendly and it was easy to fit in. Being from Armagh I was an easy target of much taunting and humour from the many zealous Down supporters who gathered at the gate once the football championship had begun. However as the saying goes what comes around goes around and standing at the gates during the football championship has been much more fun of late for Armagh supporters.
There were many characters in the community of the Clare Chapel. I remember Christmas 1975 Jim McArdle, known for his dry wit remarked to Rosemary's Aunt that he saw Rosemary with her doctor boyfriend. I was never sure whether doctor referred to the fact I was a university student or that I had a huge head of curly hair just like the actor Tom Baker who was playing Doctor Who at the time. I remember arriving at the Clare for my wedding an hour early and standing nervously around in the grave yard, when Tom Gardner came along to wish me well, his mother was very ill that day and close to dying, I thought it so kind of him to come up and wish me well in such circumstances. Although not a catholic, Tom was part of the Clare chapel community always ready to chat to mass goers and a great friend of Joe O'Dowd and Father Lynch.
My most unusual memory of the Clare was having to help to dig Paddy Rafferty's grave, it had been so wet that the grave digger could not manage it on his own and called up to the house for help. Paddy still had me digging for him one final time !!
My fondest memories of the Clare Chapel are the many beautiful Christmas midnight masses we attended as a family, the christenings of our two youngest children Dervla and Oisin in the Clare and of course our wedding. Sunday Devotions by Margaret McCann, Dunkirk Road
Margaret remembers her father telling her that he carried her as a baby in his arms to the Clare Chapel. This was to a Christmas Mass which was celebrated at 6.30 am .
As a child Margaret remembers the Chapel decorated for Christmas. In the old Chapel there were rafters, in these rings of ivy, holly and candles were suspended from the roof. The ivy and holly were collected from the graveyard.
The choir stall was at the back of the Chapel and Margaret has a photograph of the choir at that time.
Margaret and Bridget cycled to Sunday Devotions and always went early so that they could listen to Canon Doran instructing the children who attended State Schools before the Devotions began. Canon Doran who liked to smoke always joined the men at the gate for a chat before the rosary and Benediction started. These Devotions were well attended.
In the mid or late 50's Fr. Frank Treanor formed a committee to raise funds that bought new seats and stained glass windows which are still in the Church today. The Bleary Bus by Mrs Josie Lavery, Cranny Road , Bleary.
One of Josies fondest memories was the first Mission held in the Clare during Canon Dorans time by a Fr. Isadore, a Passionate. After that when a Mission was held in the Parish it always included the Clare.
Rose Kennedy who lived on the Cranny Road , Bleary organized for a bus to take the Bleary people to Mass in the Clare Chapel over sixty years ago. Miss Kennedy ordered the bus on a Saturday, collected the money and paid for it. At first it was a private bus, but later on the transport authority ran the bus and collected the money as the people entered the bus. The bus was so crowded that parents could only bring two of their children with them. Having a bus helped the people of Bleary to attend the Clare and keep the Community together.
Jim and Jacqueline, Josie's children were both Eucharistic Ministers in the Clare and Jim continues to lift the weekly collection. A Lorry to Mass by Jacqueline McDonnell (nee Lavery)
Dominic Toman used to gather a squad of men from the Bleary area in his lorry and bring them to the Clare to cut the graveyard. It was always a day's craic.
Dominic also used to take us on the back of the lorry to Mass on a Saturday morning. I also remember walking with friends and neighbours to the October devotions. The craic was great – Tommy McRoberts, Jim Lavery, Mary, Kay and Eileen Fitzpatrick, Elaine Scullion. It was probably the craic that made us go to devotions in the first place. I also remember, if it was Canon Pettit, we would have said it was “Holy Two Hours” instead of a “Holy Hour”.
We went to the Clare every Sunday on the bus. May McConville used to organise the bus and collect the money. The bus would have been packed – the Greene girls, Marie Campbell, the Tomans from Sugar Island etc .
We also went to the guest teas and concerts in Ballydougan Hall and of course Mass was held there when the church was being renovated. My memories of the Clare are very happy ones. The Clare Choir by Mrs Cassie McAlinden. Cranny Road, Bleary.
Cassie remembers the choir in the Clare from her early childhood. Around the start of the 1950's Mrs Lizzie Marr played the organ and trained the choir. Choir members at this time were Mona Greene, Tim Greene, Eddie McConville, May McEvoy, Cassie herself, and others who names escape her at present. There would have been a choir practice mid-week. The members either rode on bicycles or walked to attend. The hymns were in English and Latin for the Devotions. Cassie still remembers all these hymns and still prefers them to modern day hymns. Retreats and Sports by Brian Toman. Sugar Island . Bleary.
Brian was an Altar Boy in the Clare from age nine to fourteen during the time of Fr. Frank Treanor. John McCoy taught Brian the Latin responses and how to serve Mass. Other Altar Boys at the time were Ali Moore, Bill Moore, Colman McConnell. The boys also went to retreats in St. Clements in Belfast and attended sports days. One particular sports day was held in a field on the Sugar Island Road belonging to the Laverys and another at the Clare belonging to Joey Moore.
Danny Toland, Frank Greene (R.I.P) and Micky Greene dug the graves at the Clare for twenty five years until the mechanical digger was introduced.
Brian is photographed as an Altar Boy outside the Clare. The oldest memories of the Clare by Chris Fitzpatrick (nee Toman).
Just a few memories I have gladly collected from my dear Mother Hannah who lived until she was 92 years old and who was with us until 1998. She was blessed with a great memory and had a great love for the Clare Chapel.
Over ninety years ago Mass was celebrated at 11.00am every Sunday and it was a gathering of all the people walking together to Mass which everyone looked forward to. On Saturday night special preparations were made including the polishing of shoes and laying out your Sunday best. Sunday morning came and you met friends and family and chatted all the way to the Clare. We were a close community. Canon Doyle was the parish Priest who travelled from Laurencetown by horse and trap to say Mass. Sam Bodell looked after the horse during Mass and fed it carrots and food from a bag. Robert McEvoy and his wife Elizabeth lived in the Clare house. They gave great assistance to everything that was needed and had a breakfast awaiting the Priest after Mass.
Another special memory was of my Mothers Great Grandparents telling her about the consecrating of the Clare graveyard. All our ancestors stood around the graveyard with lighted candles while the ground was blessed. There would have been people from the Clare and all the surrounding districts and it was a very moving experience from what I am told. I imagine that would have been nearly 200 years ago. Just to think that from April 1975 when we have all lost loved ones through the troubles and who died because of their faith and especially from this area…so many families still trying to pick up the pieces.
I am sure all those people who stood in the graveyard with lighted candles could never have imagined what was to come. But their prayers along with those of parishioners today will still have that bonding which brings a caring towards the Clare Chapel and to the graveyard where it all began all those years ago.
I remember too all the happy occasions of Baptisms, Weddings, also Golden Weddings when all the families gathered to celebrate along with the Priests of the Parish. Such togetherness is bound to unite the people of yesteryear to the people of today. Now that we have reached the Two Hundred years milestone we appreciate the great work our own Canon Knowles has brought to us, such as the thought and effort towards the feelings of people who have lost their loved ones. There is now a special Mass in November to remember our loved ones, a ceremony with many lighted candles which is of great importance. Through difficult times a personal touch brings home the true meaning of sharing and caring.
A final memory I heard from two old friends who were talking about things their parents had told them. Around the year of the late 1800's and just a few hundred yards from the Clare Chapel there was a house where now stands the red telephone box. A man called Matthew known locally as “Matt” lived there and he was a great violinist. He loved people calling in to visit him and never let them go without letting them hear a tune. You could imagine people walking to Mass especially Christmas Eve Midnight Mass while Matt would be sitting by the firelight playing his violin. The people then would arrive at the chapel to find it decorated with holly and alight with oil lamps and candles. Surely a beautiful scene. Such is the Clare Chapel in so many people's memories. A responsible job by Eamon Magee
In the early 1940's I was an Altar Boy in the Clare Chapel. Canon Doran would arrive at the Glen on his bicycle and pick me up. I stood on two small bars or spikes on the wheels and together we proceeded to the Clare for Mass. Often I was a little late arriving to the allocated stop and Canon Doran waited for me, pacing up and down, and greeting me “Come on young Magee, people waiting”.
Mass was said on a First Friday and Sunday morning so twice a week we went together to the Clare. Mass was very different then…very solemn. I said the responses to the Priest in Latin. We were taught great reverence towards the Church and everything in it. For instance an Altar Boy never put his back to the Tabernacle and definitely never touched the Host. Just before the Consecration I went down into the isles of the Church and the congregation raised their hands. I counted the number and whispered this to the Priest. He then counted out the corresponding number of Hosts and these were blessed and given out at Holy Communion. There weren't many people took Holy Communion. Back then it was necessary to have been to Confession the night before and also to have fasted for 24 hours in order to receive Holy Communion. I also remember the Dues being read aloud at Mass once a month and wedding bands being read three months in advance of a wedding.
Being an Altar Boy was a very responsible job and many people thought you might go on to be a Priest.!! The mystery of the dead cat by Charlie Monaghan.
The original altar was a wooden platform raised on three steps. When the altar and floorboards under the altar were removed during the 1966/67 renovations, a dead cat was discovered, as flat as a dried pressed flower, even the skull.
Presumably, when the original altar was installed, the cat had been in the Church, probably overnight and when the workers returned the following morning the floorboards were nailed down, not knowing a cat was sleeping under them.
Charlie Monaghan and his brother John Joe were Altar Boys in the Clare during the time of Fr. Fegan. If there was a “break” in the Altar Boys, (if the new team had not learnt the Latin responses) Charlie and John Joe were brought out and John Joe taught the new recruits the Latin responses. They trained Michael and Dermot Drainey. The Monaghan boys loved this as Fr. Fegan lent them his new bike to ride to the Clare and back. Also during that time, a May Molloy who was a teacher in Lurgan, taught Catechism after Mass on a Sunday morning. During Fr Lennon's time, new windows were bought and installed.
1966/67 renovations : The timber for the Church ceiling was “aframosia” and was also used for the extra seats needed. Charlie Monaghan's joiners made the extra seats to match the existing seats. The slates for the roof came from Belgium . The wedding tractor by Myrtle Maguire (nee Murphy).
I can remember receiving Holy Communion at the Clare, also my sister Veronica and my brother John and I assume we were all baptised in the Clare.
I married Michael Maguire on Saturday 3 rd March 1962 at 9.30am in the Clare Chapel. My Bridesmaid was Nora Jordan and our Bestman John Murphy. The flower girl was Vivienne McCoy. I remember Friday 2 nd March being a beautiful day but when we woke on the Saturday morning there were 12 inches of snow on the ground. Johnny McDowell from Gilford was our taxi man and he drove me to the Clare Chapel. He managed to drive the taxi right up to the Chapel door but then needed to get a tractor to pull the car out again. We were married by Fr. Frank Treanor. On our way to Portadown to have our photographs taken, Johnny had to stop the taxi and help pull a car out of a ditch.
I still remember going to Mass at 6.30am during a Mission (approx 1957) with several other people from Bleary. We travelled on the back of Dominic Toman's lorry. I remember the extreme cold and chatting to everyone. At the Mission stall I bought a little prayer book which I still use today. An amusing memory from the Clare is going to Confessions with my brother. He went into the Confession box and was in there so long one of the two women sitting in front of me in the queue whispered loudly to the other “he must be telling about fogging our orchard”.
My Grandparents, Parents and brother Kevin are buried in the Clare graveyard and I still attend Mass in the Clare from time to time. A family of altar boys by Bridie O'Dowd.
I married Vincent O'Dowd on 14 th June 1953 and came to live in the Clare. We were blessed with six sons and three daughters. All six boys were Altar Boys in the Clare Chapel and our eldest son Vincent married another local girl Bernadette Greene in the Clare Chapel on 15 th April 1974 . Our daughter Sheelagh married her husband Brian McClelland in the Clare on 14 th June 1977 and Dolores married Gerard O'Neill in the Clare on 9 th February 1985 . Vincent and Bernie and their family still live in the area. My late husband Vincent's remains were laid to rest in the Clare graveyard close to the Chapel on the 29 th July 1983 .
I still go the Clare from time to time to visit the grave and join in Mass and other occasions with my family. An unbroken connection with the Clare Memories of Lily Moore.
The Clare Chapel has always been important in the life of our family. After we married Tommy and I attended the Clare with our young family. Both Tommy & I were in the Clare Choir for a time and Tommy was particularly active as a reader, collector and looking after the graveyard. He tended the graveyard for many years and took great pride in having it in good shape for Cemetery Sunday. Our son Liam was an Altar Boy around 1963. I was a Church cleaner for many years together with my daughters Carole and Mary.
In recent years I have attended many weddings in the Clare. Also eight of my Grandchildren have been christened in the Clare Chapel Elizabeth in August 1985; Graham in December 1988; Daniel in September 1991; Aidan in April 1994; Sarah in February 1995; Michael in June 1995; Kate in November 1997; Yvette in June 2003.
A very early memory I have is of traveling to Mass in the Clare on a Sunday in a well filled bus run by Rose Kennedy and later by Mrs May McConville, Bleary. The bus brought us to the Mission in the Clare each year too as very few people had cars. Dominic Toman brought many young men from Bleary on the back of his lorry to the Mission morning and night.
Tommy is now deceased and laid to rest in the Clare graveyard. I continue to attend Mass in the Clare. The Two fingered Organist by Catherine McEvoy
For me, the Clare Chapel means everything! My earliest memory of going to Mass in the Clare is of misbehaving! I remember walking up and down the side aisle during Mass, (much to the amusement of Leo McEvoy who encouraged me) and being sent straight to bed on my return home! My three brothers were altar boys and Noel and myself used to walk to Mass every Saturday morning. This was something special – allowed to go to Mass without your parents – and I can still see Tommy and Maggie Byrne there. I was always fascinated by Maggie's bicycle. We all loved Tommy and Maggie. Fr. Frank taught us the Latin responses and I can still hear the ‘Dominus vobiscum' ring out, to which we loved responding ' Et cum spiritu tuo'. It was only in latter years that I realised it wasn't ‘et come spiri two two O', we were saying!
Ballydougan Hall also brings back fond memories – the concerts and guest teas. I remember doing Irish Dancing there – the only time! I was so much in awe of the older girls – Mary and Kay Fitzpatrick, the Cairns girls, Joan Greene, the Haddocks, the Tomans and so many more. I remember a raffle being held there and I won first prize of a beautiful doll in a pink cot, but my father was on the committee and he said, because of that, I had to hand it back! Political correctness to the extreme!
I remember Father Sinnott and Canon Pettit saying Mass there in the hall when the chapel was closed for renovations in 1966-67. One of the sad memories was the death of Marian Prentice. I didn't know Marian well but remembered her from going to Mass and it was a very sad time.
The re-opening of the chapel was great. I was at boarding school at the time and as Ascension Thursday was a Holy Day, I was home for the day, but was allowed to stay at home an extra night because of the opening!
My mother always had the mistaken notion that I would some day be able to play the organ in the Clare! Father Lynch also had that mistaken notion! He said that as long as I could use one finger on each hand, it was good enough! So, at the age of 15, I was drafted in to play and a choir was formed. The choir was great – Jean O'Dowd, Lily Moore, Anne Haddock, the Cairns girls, Pat McEvoy and many more – I think about 12 in all. We practised faithfully and were ‘O.K'. I even played for a mission – God help us. Then, one Christmas Eve, the air bag burst on the organ and a sound close to the strangling of a cat ensued. That was the end of my ‘year' and ‘career' as organist!
The COMMA (Children of Mother Mary Association), was a little organisation that grew from the Legion of Mary in 1979. Carol Moore and Antoinette O'Dowd (R.I.P.) were the first leaders and after they went to University, Mary McCann and myself took over. We met every Sunday in the church and, at times, up to 50 primary school age children would come along and draw, paint, act and do various exercises based on religion and the parish. Mary and I went to Bleary every Sunday to collect and return the children. Eventually we formed a choir and I remember Orla O'Dowd getting a guitar for Christmas. When Orla learnt a new chord, we learnt a new hymn! We had a really good folk group with many young musicians ‘cutting their musical teeth' in the Clare Chapel. I think the COMMA continued for about 10 years and during that time almost every child in the Clare area had been a member, taken part in Carol Services /Christmas Shows / Good Friday Stations of the Cross/May Processions.
As the years passed I witnessed the changes in the church and the official presence of women in the sanctuary. I say ‘official' presence because some years prior to that, Fr. Murphy roped Imelda Moore and myself into serving benediction one Sunday evening! Fortunately for us, very few people attended Benediction, as we were not the best role models for any budding server! Years later, I became a reluctant reader and a Eucharistic Minister which, due to ill health, was short-lived. In recent times, my role has progressed – or regressed – to sacristan – a role, which I consider to be an honour. In being able to help grieving families with funeral arrangements, for example, is both a privilege and a humbling experience.
To quote from the words of Canon Knowles on Cemetery Sunday, the history of the Clare is inscribed on our tombstones - we only have to take a walk around the graveyard and look at the headstones to realise that the Clare has had more than its share of sorrow – so many babies and young people who never got the chance to grow old, including my uncle Frank who died in 1920 aged 3years. ‘The Troubles' brought many funerals to the Clare, Joe Toland, Jimmy Marks, Rosie McConville, Joe Toman, Joe, Barry and Declan O'Dowd, Gerard and Rory Cairns - marvellous people who will never be forgotten. I remember also Joe Fegan, who lived in the Clare House with his wife Christine and children, at the time he was killed.
For generations my family have been involved in some way with the Clare – my father and all his brothers were altar servers there at the beginning of the last century – most of my ancestors are buried there, right back to my great grand-parents - the O'Neill's of Ballydougan. I still see the faces from my childhood, praying at Mass – Sarah Jane McConville, Mary Catherine Greene, Tommy and Maggie Byrne, Dominic Toman, Mrs. Toal, Frank Greene, Kitty Toman and so many others. From more recent years –Ursula Doran, Phyllis Magee, Jean O'Dowd, Jimmy and Rosealeen Curran, Seamus Cairns, Bernie McRoberts, ‘Tish' McEvoy and of course my own father and mother, Paddy and Anna McEvoy – how proud they all would have been at this time. It is no wonder then, that when any of us visit the Clare, we feel we are among friends and what a marvellous thought that, on our “Day of Celebration”, they will be surrounding us as we gather to give thanks for all those people who have gone before, celebrate with our friends in the present and look forward to the future in the sure knowledge that even though many may leave the Clare, the Clare will always be in their hearts! The Clare Gate Parish by Noel McEvoy
Whenever I look back to growing up as a boy in the Clare, I have only good memories. I was lucky to have grown up, knowing so many characters. ‘The Clare' as it was known, had a lot going on for a small community and I am pleased to know that it continues in the same way to this very day. It was a close-knit community that cared about each other and the people were all interested in what was going on. It would have been great to tape many of the conversations that went on outside the chapel gates after Mass. No one was ever in a hurry home as this was the highlight of the week when people touched base and reference was made to all the important things in the community such as the price of hay and, of course, births, deaths, weddings, funerals and recent courtships, particularly neighbouring ones if land was involved! A lot of bills would have been paid outside the gate. Barney O'Dowd was the milkman and coalman and Jim Greene was the travelling grocer (who I used to think made the Tayto crisps with the little blue bag). Barney was always great craic and as we sold the milk to Barney, there was always a close connection between our two families. I will always remember that my son Mark and nephew Gary were born the day after the tragic deaths of Joe, Barry and Declan.
Dominic Toman, if alive today, would probably be the Lord Mayor of Bleary. Dominic would have been the representative of the Bleary community and was held in high esteem by all. He participated in a lot of the organising of the various festivities held in Ballydougan Hall. Dominic was the key Bingo Caller, and if he wasn't available, one of his two deputies, Jim Ferris or Joe Toal, stepped in. Jim also took up the collection on a Sunday morning. It was often said that if the priest were not available, Dominic would have been capable of stepping in! There was always something going on in Ballydougan Hall. One of the magic moments was when there was a ‘lucky dip', which was a tea chest full of sawdust and full of great surprises! You always got the key for the hall across the road in Miss Green's and Maureen McCusker's. I was always scared of Maureen because she always wore her hair in a net and walked really fast and I don't think she has any teeth! The house was always spotless and sometimes you would have got a cup of tea.
Tommy Byrne and Maggie were always great craic. Kathleen Reavey, who was a sister of Maggie's, owned a ladies shop in Lurgan. They were always so well dressed and ready for the craic. I remember Kathleen smoked Peter Stuyvesant cigarettes, which she kept with her lighter in a cigarette case. In a child's eyes, she must have been a millionaire! Tommy usually sported a cream mackintosh and collected the St Vincent de Paul money after Mass. This was a really big job, I thought, not knowing who this guy St. Vincent de Paul was! Kathleen Reavey plus, I suppose, most of the other parishioners who owned a car, always parked in the same position and pointing in the one direction.
Margaret McCann and Bridget McStravick lived in the same area as Tommy and Maggie and were very involved in the running of the Clare. Margaret's husband, John McCann would have been on the Parish Committee, as was my father Paddy McEvoy. In a child's mind, these people were the ‘Leaders'. Margaret and Bridget's father, James McStravick always wore a starched shirt with pointed corners and I used to think he must be well over a hundred years old. Mary McCann is John and Margaret's daughter. The Cairns family were also very involved in the community. I thought they must be the biggest family in the world. At school I remember Ann swallowing a marble. Of course she was known as Marble Ann after that!
Joining the altar boys was a major achievement. There were always loads of altar boys in the Clare. Eddie McConnell was the head Altar Boy and, in my eyes, he was the equivalent of the Bishop! This was the one job I would hope to have, one day. There was always loads of practices to ensure you were capable of doing the various duties, such as carrying the cross, holding the candles, carrying the holy water, being the thurifer or carrying the incense, ringing the bell at the Sanctus or being in charge of the water and wine at the offertory. One of the biggest jobs was at the Benediction when you had to put the cloak and veil on the priest's shoulders. This was totally technical, as you did not dare drop it. So, you had to hold the two clasps in the right position and get it up just at the right time. Eddie McConnell was always great for giving you the nod.
There was always something going on in the Clare – Station of the Cross, Holy Hour – or longer depending who the priest was, Benediction, Weekly Mass and of course, the Mission. The Mission could be great, depending which Order was giving it, or it could be hell-fire and brimstone. There was always Mass at 6.30am for the Mission and Benediction in the evenings. You always made sure you were there as there was a prize at the end for the best boy at attending and being really good! The prize would have been a holy prayer leaflet or a pair of rosary beads. Some of the preachers would have had great stories, although you were afraid to laugh in the Clare. Emmanuel Green was in charge of the ‘stall' where we bought religious objects and these were blessed at the end of the Mission . Christmas and Easter were always the best times as the chapel could not hold the crowds and there would have been extra duties to perform, particularly at Easter when we had the ‘plastic' candle (paschal candle). We didn't know what it was for but it was very big and hard to light. The thurible was a big job, especially lighting the charcoal. There were always extra matches in case there was a problem. There was a fantastic atmosphere and a great feeling of contentment.
Funerals and weddings were great occasions when you might get time of school. It was always a privilege to be asked to serve at these occasions. A log would have been kept by the altar boys, like a Role of Merit, based on how many times you were asked! I remember I was asked to serve at Leo McEvoy and Ann McVeigh's wedding in Laurencetown. It was a major achievement – like a transfer to a bigger club! The surplus would have got an extra starch for that! I remember funerals in particular, which at the beginning, were unnerving as death was a fairly scary thing! We had to stand beside the priest, as there was a system of ‘offerings'. When a person died, those attending the funeral would have given an ‘offering' of money to the priest and the name of every one who gave money was read out at the funeral. Depending on the amount collected, you would have known if the deceased was popular or not! If you did not subscribe, that was noted by the congregation!
Everyone in the Clare had their own seat and God forbid that you sat in someone else's! Everyone knew what you wore for Sunday and if you got something new, it would have been noticed. If you weren't at Mass, there would have been an enquiry, as people were ‘interested' – I think that was the terminology! The Clare was the centre of communications as there were no phones, never mind mobile phones or internet! People had loads of time. We had a Sports Day in Ballydougan. I remember a big football game - the Rafferty's and McEvoy's played Towel Hill – Eddie Caughey, Jim Green, Barney Campbell and co.
I remember my parents and others used to talk about the ‘changes' coming out. This was always a major topic of conversation – when priests would be changed to another parish and there always a nervousness of losing your parish priest or curate and getting someone worse! Father Frank was the first curate I would have known and he christened me ‘Christmas'. He created great inter-parish relationships between Kilwarlin, Banbridge etc, for guest teas, concerts and Sales of Work.
The Clare was always part of Tullylish Parish, but everyone in the Clare knew that we had our own parish! Altar wine and candles by Jim Rafferty
I became an altar boy, I guess, in 1963 or 1964 being then about 10 or 11 years old. Back then Canon Pettit was the Parish Priest, and had white hair, and Father Trainor was the curate, and had no hair! Later on came Father Sinnott from Co. Wexford. He drove a Fiat 124 and played Gaelic football and was also a great hurling player. Father Conway who then came to our Parish drove a Ford Cortina 1600E and we all loved to have Father Conway say Mass because he said it as fast as he drove that gold coloured 1600E!
When I became an altar boy there were maybe four or five boys as servers but in 1967 or 1968 there was a recruiting programme and the ranks swelled to fifteen or sixteen with seven or eight aside, kneeling erect on each side of the red carpet runner which was on top of the dark stain wood flooring. The most fervent prayers that we altar boys ever offered up was on the day of the altar boys annual trip to Newcastle or Tyrella. One would pray with great devotion that the rain that morning would give way to sunny skies and at the same time ask for forgiveness for sampling the altar wine!
As an altar boy you were uniquely placed to view the Spiritual life of your parish community, First Communions with the girls in white dresses and the boys in short trouser suits. Confirmations, where everyone was dressed much the same but the kids were a bit taller and we had to swear off the altar wine. Weddings, confetti and half crown tips and many funerals, sad and sombre.
When I come home to visit I always walk around the graveyard looking at the headstones and remembering the faces of the people who rest peacefully in the shadow of our little 200 year old Church.
I would offer a word of advice for today's altar servers. When Father asks you to go into the Vestry to light the candles on the candle sticks , don't attempt to carry four candle sticks on to the altar at the same time especially when a service is going on because I do believe that melting candle wax is as hot today as when I was a 10 year old! Christmas Memories of Theresa Murphy(nee Curran) by Mrs Anne Murphy.
When I was a child there was always snow around Christmas and that meant loads of snow where we lived in a farmhouse on the Ballymacanallen Road because the hedges just seemed to collect the snow in drifts.
Mid-night Mass on Christmas Eve really was at mid-night and only daddy could go to Mass in the Clare because we were all fast asleep in our beds and anyway we knew that Santi would soon be coming to our house and going to bed early just seemed to make that magic night longer and morning come quicker.
The next morning we couldn't wait to open our presents. There were four of us and I was the eldest and I remember getting a doll in a box. She had a beautiful smile on her face and funny enough I can remember that every time I opened the box that same smile welcomed me. At breakfast daddy would tell us about the gorgeous decorations in the Chapel. He said that each of the windows held flickering candles that were framed with holly and ivy all twisted and twined around branches and the holly was laden with red, red berries. Morning Mass was lovely but we were really looking forward to the candle lit New Years night. It couldn't come quick enough because there was always a big celebration every New Years night in the Clare Chapel.
The moonlit night and the crisp cold air made our breath look white and we used to make little puffs of smoke in the air. The best night that I can remember is the night we got a lift on the back of our neighbours cart and we would just sit and look up at all the twinkling stars. But when we got to the Chapel it was lovely. There were candles everywhere and holly, just like daddy had said. But the nicest decoration of all was the big round candelabra that lit the centre isle in the Chapel just in front of the altar. I couldn't count the candles on it and the holly was twisted all around it and the ivy was falling down in wisps. It was so good to look at. And everyone went to the chapel and mummy and daddy had lots of people to talk to and we could see all our friends from school and find out what they got of Santi.
There now was my Christmas….. Ever the Diplomat Recounted by Arthur Crothers
I'm talking fifty years ago and a young Father Treanor had come to the parish as a curate. Now some of the men at that time, namely the smokers, while they never missed the chapel going Sabbath, they were just as committed to a smoke at the gospel time and positioned themselves conveniently at the back of the chapel to facilitate this unspoken agreement. So as the congregation made their movements to sit for the gospel the boys at the back headed for the wall beside the chapel gates where their own experiences held court over the biblical ones.
The new curate had had enough of this early exit and so he advised one of the young altar boys to move a small table down to the back of the Church as this was where he was going to say Mass from that Sunday morning. At the first opportunity the little altar boy sped away to the chapel gates where the unsuspecting flock were catching up with weekend stories and they were more than alarmed to hear that the curate, in his wisdom, was moving the altar to the back of the chapel in a strategic move to aid the geography of his congregation.
His flock were alarmed, so much so that on entering the chapel and on noticing the small table occupying their favoured position, they headed straight for the front pews and probably felt amused by the fact that the curate had tried to outwit them. Out came the young father Treanor to the front of the Church and proceeded to say Mass on the altar as usual. The boys were not noticeably annoyed and in fact they remained at the front of the Church for Mass time for most of the remaining church year. It has to be said that the young Father Treanor was fit for the lads, didn't fall out with them and was, “ever the diplomat”. Redmond and the Zulu Priest by Eddie Diamond.
The late Redmond Doran lived in a roadside labourers cottage on the Ballydougan Road , just comfortable cycling distance from the Clare Chapel and it is in that graveyard that his remains lie. This is an authentic recollection by Eddie Diamond, a friend of Redmond 's.
“You have to understand that Redmond 's house was a sort of a ceilidh house and it was a very popular spot for a lot of locals. The people would just have come in and sat down and craiced about life in general and plenty of things in particular. At times someone would read from the Belfast Telegraph and animated discussions would have followed.
Redmond however, always held court and he was good to listen to, once he got going. One night a good local group had gathered each with the usual bottle of Guinness and Redmond had the hot poker stuck in the fire. He would have heated the poker till it was red hot and then stuck it into his bottle of Guinness – it was supposed to make the Guinness extra strong and then you couldn't have drunk as many.
A rap came to the door and wasn't it the Parish Priest with the new curate on his first visit in the parish. Redmond , of course invited them both into the house and on entering the sitting room the Parish Priest clapped his hands together saying “Sure this is great, the half of Bleary's here tonight. That'll save my feet”.
In the course of conversation the Parish Priest inquired of Redmond , news of the previous curate who had left the Clare to go to the foreign missions. Redmond , aware that the new curate was all ears, replied, “Oh yes Father, indeed. He went away to darkest Africa to teach the Zulus all about God. Indeed he did”.
The Parish Priest was now well interested in the story and asked Redmond , whatever happened to him, to which Redmond countered, solemnly shaking his head and knowing that his audience eagerly awaited the punch line “They ate him. They ate him, hump, rump and stump”. Memories of my parents, Austin & Ruby Donnelly by Ann Donnelly
My Mother Ruby's Grandfather was from Corcreeny and although she was born and brought up in Belfast she visited her family home and the Clare Chapel regularly from childhood. Born Ruby McEvoy, she moved back to the Clare with her family and her husband Austin in 1972. Soon after she became a Teacher in Bann Primary School , Laurencetown, now St. Colmans, and within a few years started playing the organ in the Clare and leading the choir. She continued to do so for many years. The original organ was an old harmonium pumped by the feet. The later addition of an engine made it sound like a plane taking off when it was warming up. Eventually the harmonium was replaced by the pride and joy – a brand new electric organ and Ruby was thrilled to bits. She also cleaned the Chapel and arranged flowers with Margaret McCann and Brigid McStravick on a rota with some of the other ladies.
Austin loved the Clare and always attended the quarter to ten mass. He was one of the Clare's first Eucharistic Ministers, read at Mass regularly and was a member of Ruby's choir. He particularly liked attending the Sunday evening devotions and the early morning Masses in the Clare which happened occasionally. When Austin and Ruby first started going to the Clare the Parish Priest, Father Lynch who was a country man and well used to casting an eye over the cattle, observed that Austin was putting on a bit of weight and remarked at the Chapel gate on morning – “You'll be ready for grading soon, boy”.
Both Ruby and Austin were very fond of Father McMullan, a former curate and ex-missionary to China , who was short of stature and had to use a stool to reach the lectern to read the Gospel. The combination of a rocky stool and a coggly lectern used to make the congregation fear for his safety and produce a strange sea-sick effect. Yet another occasion when concerns for his health and safety were raised was on an Easter Vigil when Father McMullan was trying to light the Paschal fire in the graveyard and it exploded leaving his face a bit singed.
Austin was always a member of the Pioneer Association and often went on their outings and trips. Austin and Ruby are now deceased and laid to rest in the Clare graveyard. The Clare - a Thatched Mass house by Kathleen Carragher.
My Mother told me her Grandfather John McArdle of Ballynagarrick, walked to the Clare when it was a thatched Mass House. The people who attended at that time brought turf with them to heat the house during the Mass. John was born in 1838.
As a child my Mother attended the Clare with her family. They travelled by horse and trap, and the horse was stabled at the field beside the Chapel. There were three stables; one for the Rafferty's, one for the McStravicks and a third for the McArdles.
I remember going to Sunday Mass on the Clare bus from Bleary, but for other days such as Feast Days or Missions, the bicycle would have been our means of transport. During the early sixties my sister Maura and I lifted the weekly collection of one shilling per week from families living on the Sugar Island Road . Maura and I went around the houses on a Friday night (pay day), collected the money and brought it to Fr. Treanor on a Sunday morning. Then the envelopes were introduced and house collections ceased. Having a bus from Bleary meant we knew our neighbours and were made part of the Parish, as we attended schools outside the Parish. There was no school in our area.
Also, there would have been Parish trips to the seaside during the summer. One I went on was to Warrenpoint ending up with tea in St. Bronagh's Hall in Rostrevor. We had great fun and had brought bread with us for our tea in the hall. There was a lovely lady there that day, Mary Greene from Ballydougan, who provided cooked chicken for our bread and it tasted great. We also went to ring St. Bronagh's bell in the Chapel. I was married in the Clare Chapel in 1982 to Peter and still feel that the Clare is the Chapel I am most attached to. Fond Memories by Gemma Madden (nee Prentice).
In July 1966 my sister Marion died at the age of 11 years. The Clare Chapel was being renovated at the time so her funeral Mass was held in Ballydougan Hall and she was then laid to rest in the Clare graveyard.
Even before an Altar Society committee was formed to clean the Clare Chapel my parents, Cecilia & Jim Prentice and my aunt and uncle, Sarah and John Catney took it upon themselves to clean the Chapel each week and put flowers on the altar.
Our two children Celene and Colum were Christened in the Clare. Celene was Christened by Fr. Reid in September 1986 during the Sunday morning Mass. Colum was Christened by Fr. Loughran in April 1991. I was a Eucharistic Minister in the Clare in the 1990's and continue to attend the Clare regularly for Sunday morning Mass. Recent Memories of the Clare by Marie O'Dowd.
My first visit to the Clare was in 1985 when Seán I went with Frank & Jean to Mass in the Clare one Thursday night (November time). Even on this dark cold evening I was struck by the beauty of this Church and the warm welcome I received from all I met. Then after we married in June 1987 Mass in the Clare became a regular part of life.
Our two sons Ciarán & Niáll were both Christened in the Clare. Ciarán by Fr. John McMullen (Oct 1988) & Niáll in June 1992 by Fr. Des Loughran. Niálls christening was particularly special because Fr. Des had commissioned Seán to make a Christening Bowl and water jug for the Clare and this was blessed and used for the first time on the occasion of Niáll's Christening - Saturday 20 th May 1992. At the age of eight, both boys became Altar Boys and Niáll continues to serve at present.
Frank & Jean always had a passenger with them going to the Clare- Maureen McCusker. Maureen lived in the house beside us with her Mother Liza and her Aunt Mary Greene. Formerly they travelled to Mass in Jack Kennedy's taxi, then there was a time when Maureen cycled to Mass, but in her later years she travelled with Frank & Jean. Maureen was a quiet gentle woman and she loved a Mission . She went to the Mission stall every night and bought something. Then on the last night of the Mission when the religious artifacts were being blessed she had bags of medals, beads, holy pictures etc.
I remember also so many people who in their own quiet way were devoted to the Clare; Jimmy Curran who was always ready to tackle electrical problems, Tommy Moore who kept the graveyard so well for so many years and also took up the Church Collection, Ruby Donnelly and more recently Rhona Fegan who played the organ while the ladies, and indeed some men, sang in the choir, Seamus Strain who lived at the Chapel house and assisted the Priest in their preparation for Mass, a role now in the capable hands of Catherine McEvoy, the wonderfully people who read the Liturgy, the Altar Servers, and all the ladies who gave off their time to clean the Church down through the years and arrange flowers etc. for Mass and times of celebration.
In the Clare we have had wonderful celebrations especially at Christmas and Easter. The age-old tradition of decorating the Chapel at these times continues and if you arrive late you risk not getting a seat.
Memorable ceremonies include Christmas Eve Mass with Fr. Stevenson, Fr. Loughran inducting the new altar boys, the washing of the feet ceremony on Holy Thursday night and the lighting of the Paschal candle and re-dressing of the altar on Holy Saturday night.
November is a very special month when as a community we remember our dead. On one memorable occasion the Clare was beautifully decorated with candles, autumn foliage and written on little cards were the names of those recently deceased. After Sunday morning Mass the Chapel was closed as usual but unfortunately unknown to anyone a spark from a candle had landed on the display and during the following days created a fire which penetrated through the altar carpet and caused damage to the marble altar itself.
Thankfully in his wisdom Canon Treanor had insisted on fire retardant carpet for the altar and this undoubtedly helped to curtail the spread of the flames. Out of this disaster we have the present-day Clare Chapel with its restored altar, beautiful gold carpet and freshly painted walls.
Currently Mass is celebrated each Sunday morning by either Canon Des Knowles or Fr Arthur McNeill. The Clare is also a popular choice of Brides and Grooms celebrating their Weddings Mass and for the Christening of the youngest members of our community. Likewise many families and neighbours come together to the Clare to celebrate the final Mass of loved ones who have died and are then laid to rest in the quiet of our small rural graveyard.
My closing thought is for the Clare to continue to be a place of pray and peace for our small rural community, as it has been for the last 200 years and hopefully will continue to be for many, many years to come.
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