Waterford Articles & UpTheDeise MomentsWaterford Icons
by Paul C & JackPaul C's List
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EDDIE BAT.
CASHIN.
MILLER.
TAWDY MORRISSES.
THAT FELLA WEARS THE MAD HAT AND LOOKS LIKE NOSTRADAMUS.
MANKIE MAGGIE.
6 FOOT 4 FOOT.
EVRYWAN FROM NORRISS CORNER.
THAT FELLA THAT USED GO TO CLUB LA WITH HES NANNY.
JOHNNY WELSH FROM MOUNT SION.
PUNJAB .A.K.A DAVY SINGH.
QUAGSIE.
THAT HUNCHBACK LITTLE FELLA.
SHAMMY.
PATSY DA COARSEY.
THREE DOGS KEATIN
STUEY SUTTON.
FATHER OFFENDER.
HEAD AND SHOULDERS A.K.A shyte.
PISS BIARD.
PADDY LUCAS.
Jack's comments
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here you are paul try these you might find them interesting
dont know if your old enough to remember??
Every urban area has its "Characters". These were mostly itinerant handymen, pedlars, street musicians etc., who decided, for a variety of reasons, to "stay put." A number of them were just poor unfortunates who had some problems, be they mental or physical, in dealing with life. Some of these people lived from hand-to-mouth, sleeping in the Men's and Women's Hostels and sometimes sleeping rough. The rise of the Welfare State has all but done away with these "Characters" but, up to comparatively recently, our city had an unusually high number of such people. The list of "Characters" is long and here is a sample. also give a brief description of some of them .
The Boer, the Bat & Tom the Rat
Mugs Power & Itchiewalla
Chichity Dick put up his stick
And bid them all 'Good Morra.'
We had "Mikie Moore, Mary the Rake, Ivy Leaf, Billy the Bawler, Denny the Hock, Whack Dunphy, Ankle Socks, Stab the Rasher, The Dummy Synnott, Harry the Horse, Horse's Head, Who ate the dog's dinner, Holy Hogan, Pumphry, Matty the Jennett, Christy Cooney, Hannah Mooney, Cock Up, Monkey Tricks, Lackendarra, Polish 'em off, Slip me F'ippence, Musty Flap, Cuckoo, Switchy Dick, Mug Power, Itchy Walla, The Boer, The Bag, Tom the Rat, Spain, Popeye, Wexford, Bawdie Bess, Bala, Micky the Mauler, Indian Meal, The Bird Man."
The most famous of them all was 'Mikey' Moore. He generally worked with the farmers around the Knockhouse area and he was remarkable for his sallies of wit, especially when he was 'in his cups'. He drank all he could get his hands on but he was a decent man who worked when he could get it, was never abusive or crude and who never cursed in his life.
One day, whilst walking up Barronstrand Street, he saw two fellows painting the top of Woolworth's shop. "What are ye doin', lads?" he asked. One of them said, "We're paintin the clouds with sunshine, Mikey!" and Mikey replied, "Well, If I take away this ladder, ye'll be paintin "yee'r arses with iodine."
On another occasion, when Mikey was 'skint', standing on the 'Hill' during Lent, two fellows approached him and asked, "Do you happen to know where two fella's might get a drink?" "No", said Mikey, "But I've a fair idea where three fella's might get one."
Describing a dinner he got from a rather mean farmer (who had been over generous with the cabbage water) Mikey declared that "he had to wait for the tide to go out before he could find any meat."
He got an occasional meal with the Sisters of Mercy in Philip St. and, once, he was asked, by a nun, how he liked his egg. Mikey replied, "With another one".
He also frequented the Mental Hospital, where he got occasional work. He was sitting on the hospital wall one day when two men came through the gates with a horse and cart full of manure. Mikey asked them what they were going to do with the manure. The men. thinking to get a 'rise' out of Mikey, replied, "Oh, we're going to put the manure on the rhubarb. Why, what do you put on the rhubarb, Mikey?" to which Mikie replied, "Well, I put custard on mine!"
Mikey was once asked by a tourist as to how you could tell the difference between summer and winter in Ireland. Mikey replied, "The rain is warmer in the summer".
A local Baker tried to pull a 'fast one' on Mikey when he went into his shop to buy a bun. "They are gone up a penny, today , Mikey", said the Baker. "Right", said Mikie, "I'll have one of yesterday's".
Another character was Hannah Mooney, an old 'Bag-woman' who was always walking the streets shouting and roaring at all and sundry, mostly when she had too much to drink. One of her favourite stands was outside Christchurch Cathedral (Church of Ireland). One day a visitor to the city, guide-book in hand, asked Hannah, "Is this Christchurch?" to which Hannah replied, "It used to be, sir, but the Protestants own it now!"
There was 'Mary the Rake', who would sit on the steps of the shops in Patrick Street and curse the daylights out of all her tormentors,
'Knock Hard' (from a persistent knocking on the doors in Alexander Street),
'Ivy Leaf', played tunes by blowing through an ivy leaf placed in his cupped hands,
'Billy the Bawler'. who was once brought to the Tramore police station on suspicion of stealing. The sergeant said, "We have two witnesses who saw you stealing the goods." "Well", said Billy, "I have ten witnesses who didn't see me stealing them."
'Harry the Horse' was a small man who seemed to have the gift of bi-location. He could, apparently, be in two places in the city at the same time, sometimes in three or four. He was everywhere. Harry frequented the railway station and, for a few pence, he would drag your luggage, all over the city, on his hand-cart. He also attended every funeral in the city and he was never known to miss one.
Another famous character was 'Holy Hogan', who was seen, or rather heard, at all the Masses he could physically attend. It was a common sight to see 'Holy' running from church to church in his quest. He had an incredibly loud voice and he would stand at the back of the church - the best place to effect a quick getaway - and bawl out the hymns.
There was Christy Cooney who had what must have been the bandiest legs in the world. You could put a beer barrel through them.
Another was Davey Daw. He wore a multiplicity of coats and he went around imitating the cuckoo.
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Sean Kelly - Waterford's Greatest Sports Star!
by DungarvanOakon 06/11/2005
Sean Kelly recently won a poll run by WLR to find Waterford's greatest Sport's person. Since Kelly's years of dominance were in the late seventies and the the eighties and the fact that cycling, at the moment is not as popular as it once was (indeed during the eighties due to the efforts of Kelly and Stephen Roche, cycling was for a few years big news in Ireland.), many people may not have realised just how great Sean Kelly was. So to honour Sean Kelly this is my summary of his great career. Read More → ^ TOP
Waterford City Walls
First Chapter in Packie's ThesisINTRODUCTION
Location and Name
The area occupied by Waterford city has in the past been known by various names. Many of the classic histories of the city, such as Smith writing in 1746, make reference to Cuán-na-Grian (1746, 166) i.e. the harbour of the sun. Another such name was Gleann-na-Gleodh or the valley of lamentation (Ryland 1824, 109) after a bloody battle between the Irish and the Danes. Port Láirge, which occurs in early annalistic references, is thought to commemorate Láirg, an early Viking leer (Oftedal 1976, 292). But the name that has remained, Waterford, is in fact derived from the old Norse Vedra( r )-fjordr, meaning ram fjord or windy fjord (Bradley and Halpin 1992, 105). Its corruption from ‘wind’ to ‘water’ tells us a lot about the area, and suggests just how important the natural vantages of the area were to past settlers.
Waterford is located in the south-east of Ireland, just up river from the confluence of three major rivers (the Suir, the Nore and the Barrow) which together drain nearly a quarter of Ireland’s interior. This vantage, and “one of the greatest any city can be blessed with” (Smith 1746, 168), has been central to the establishment of settlements here. Economy and defence were the two forces that most expressed themselves in this landscape, a fact which can be seen as we look at the circumvallation and walling of these settlements.
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My Best Waterford Memories
by Railway Squareby Railway Square
5th September 2004
My best memories include the first swim in the sea - always Woodstown with a late tide warmed by the hot strand. Tramore, Dunmore, the Cove and maybe my favourite for swimming, Rathmoylan, were all face-able after that.
Others are Ring, Helvic Head, the much under-rated Passage East; Paddy Browne's Long Road complete with "confession boxes" (before it was built up); Reginald's Tower, and as a kid, remembering where the cannon ball lodged.
The People's Park probably played a huge part in all of our up-bringings. How many families do NOT have photos of kids sitting astride the cannons? I even remember the Tramore Railway, and in later years, being able to hitch both safely and successfully virtually anywhere.
Delacato's in Johnstown was the best chipper in town. A great feed for 6d (six old pence in the days when there were 240 to a pound the size of a bedspread) when you brought your own bowl.
Chucks, spare ribs and cabbage, dilisk, cockles, mackerel bought fresh at the pier and fried straight away, real lard and dripping, blaas (of course), settled pans, soda bread, Clover sausages ("Oxford" and "Countrystyle", as a treat, I.C.M. the norm).
The more I think about this, the more I remember.
Going out John's Hill, collecting blackberries before the days when traffic pollution made them impossible to eat, bringing them home and me Ma either making blackberry tarts (the absolute best), blackberry and apple tarts, nearly as good, or just washing them and mashing them in a saucer with sugar.
Then there was going out early September, even earlier mornings, and picking field mushrooms. I can almost taste them now. Could be fried, fried on toast, done in milk with loads of pepper but best of all, the heads placed on top of the range (forerunner of the Aga or Stanley for those of you reared on ceramic hobs etc,) with salt and pepper sprinkled over them.
Collecting watercress. Do any of you remember watercress sandwiches or blaas? Forget hang, Tayto or red lead. These were the real deal. The blaa, butter, watercress and salt. And how much did they cost? Word of warning. Nowadays, like most else, if any of you want to pick watercress, do so in streams not near fields with sheep who carry parasites that don't do you a lot of good. A by-product of modern science.
Ok, obviously these activities were not unique to Waterford. But we had the opportunity to carry them out. And they were an integral part of our heritage.
I remember wet slack being put onto fires to keep a steady glimmer that didn't cost a lot. I remember someone calling at the front door to collect potato and other vegetable peelings for the pigs. I remember turf bits, small pieces, that were sold cheap. I remember seeing the old ration books for butter and sugar, leftovers from the emergency.
What has this to do with the best memories of the Deise?
They were simple, hard times but the way they were handled, the way our people treasured and respected what we had and the occasional chances to revel in the beauty of our surroundings speaks volumes for our heritage. The same heritage that made many of us emigrants. But, other than jobs, did we find anything better? I don't think so.
Last one, taking the bus to Woodstown, bringing a picnic, including tea and a teapot, sitting down in the dunes eating sandy sandwiches and drinking hot tea courtesy of the little shop who charged 3d for a pot of boiling water. Now THAT was convenience food!!!
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A Yank in Croke Park
by A Yank in Croke Park12th August 2004
I am an American just returned from Ireland after a trip through Waterford and Dublin that included a stop in Croke Park for the All-Ireland match between Waterford and Kilkenny. I thought you might be interested in a hurling-ignorant yank’s account of our trip to Croke Park and how I now find myself a Waterford supporter.
On Thursday night my wife, brother-in-law, his wife and I began our tour of the wonderful pubs in Waterford. Eventually we ended up at a pub called The Woodman chatting with the bartender who patiently answered our stupid questions about all things Waterford. There was a sports page on the bar with the picture of a hurler on it. The ladies found him "cute" and asked who he was. We were informed this was "Ken McGrath."
We had been hearing this name a bit around town so my bro-in-law and I began asking Stephen (our bartender) all about hurling. Stephen told us McGrath was the best in the game and that this Sunday he was going to head up to Dublin to see McGrath and "the Déise" take on Kilkenny in an All-Ireland semifinal. Many pints and Powers Whiskeys later it was settled. We were going to Dublin to try and get tickets for Sunday and take in some Hurling and support Waterford.
On the way to Dublin we stopped for a night in Kilkenny. While there we gleefully informed everyone we were heading to the match on Sunday and that we would be supporting Waterford. Most people gave us a little bit of **** in good fun although at some point in the evening I received a smack on the head by someone in a Kilkenny jersey. Whether this was because we had been talking about supporting Waterford or because I was a drunk American is anyone's guess. I couldn't understand his Irish. He later bought me a pint and told me his wife had taken his two boys and left him as he had problems with holding a job, the drink and his temper but that he now had everything "in moderation." We later saw him sitting in the corner weeping. But I am getting off track.
That Sunday we made our way through Dublin on foot to Croke Park. We got tickets and sat in the Upper Tier of the Cusack Stand, on the edge of a large group of Waterford supporters. Fantastic folk. Friendly and rowdy good people. We assured a few that although we were from North America (I being the lone American traveling with 3 Canadians) and rooting for Waterford we also found George Bush to be "a ferocious langer"!
Then the match started and the rest was a pleasant blur. I was totally swept up in it. I tried to keep my eye on McGrath but there was action all over the field. #15(we learned he was Paul Flynn) was great. I groaned in agony as "the guy in the green helmet"(Henry Shefflin) tapped in his second goal and wondered why the Waterford goalie was so short.
Midway through the second half I was stomping my feet screaming along with the rest of the Waterford faithful (who were much louder and supportive than the Kilkenny fans). I found myself getting upset with "the big guy" because he could have made a run and (I think it was) McGrath looked to feel that way also as he lead him with a pass that "the big guy" didn't get to. We later found out this was Dan Shanahan. I was yelling at all the slipping and sliding with each near miss in front of the Kilkenny goal.
These guys were dead tired. You couldn't help but get the feeling that Kilkenny was the better side and that Waterford needed some help somewhere to break through the defense. Waterford was so close. Then the crowd got into it. Not to sound to hokey or corny but the Waterford fans started cheering like mad and the team really seemed to respond! What an effort by Waterford in the last five minutes! Christ!
When it ended I felt like someone had punched me in the stomach. I looked over at my wife and she was giving me a look as if to say, "Do I know you?"
As we walked down the GAA museum someone informed us that the players are amateurs. I couldn't believe it. These guys were running their guts out and beating the crap out of each other. In professional sports, athletes won't even cross the street without some type of appearance fee. I would later read about what happened with John Mullane. What a class act! I am afraid to think of the media circus that would have taken place if this had happened in a sport (amateur or professional) here in the U.S.
I spent the rest of the day hitting a few pubs with a smile on my face but a sense of loss as we watched Waterford fans make their way home through Dublin.
Hurling. What an absolutely fantastic game! I am completely hooked and plan to return to Waterford next season to see them play.
Up The Déise!
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