Cabra History.Com

 Willie Lynch once lived in the keyhole on lower Carnlough Road. He headed off to the United States to find fame and fortune. Willie is an accomplished musician and singer. He has entertained in pubs, clubs and on ocean liners. He plays with a very successful band of fellow musicians. Here is the latest update from Willie so click on and pay him a visit. There’s plenty to see…so just click right here and enjoy…http://www.willielynch.com/

  It seems a strange thing now to be standing here on my own after all these years. There were forty two boys in my class at school and almost every one of them could swim, except me that is. This old bridge was the perfect spot back then for diving and jumping into the canal water below. Most mornings during our summer holidays nearly all of us would gather here on the brow of the bridge to plan some kind of adventure for the day. Some lads would arrive with a piece of torn bed sheet or part of an old towel under their arm with their swimming nicks wrapped inside. If a boy had an S-Belt with a snake for the buckle he’d tie it around his bundle to keep everything together. Most of the boys however would run up and down the canal bank to dry off in the warm sunshine. I would sit on the bank with my feet dangling lazily in the water shouting and cheering up at the boys flying through the air and watch them land with a splash into the canal. There were of course some boys who had no swimming nicks with them. They would quickly look around to see if any adult was watching and when the coast was clear they’d leap over the bridge as naked as the day they were born. With screams and roars of delight they too would plunge into the cold canal water below. We had a great life back then without a worry in the world. After a while some of the boys would head across the open fields to the Cabra baths for more swimming. Sometimes my little gang would head further up the canal where there was always a man fishing who never seemed to catch anything.  Quite a distance up along the canal bank we knew of a great place to rob an orchard. Along the way we would plan our strategy as to who would go over the wall first and who would keep watch in case anyone came along. We always had to promise to share out all of the robbed apples equally amongst those who had to keep watch. The excitement and noise amongst us would build up as we came nearer to our goal. Before going over the wall we had to make sure we shoved our shirts or jumpers down the front of our trousers. This is where we stored the stolen apples as we picked them off the trees. This was an easy orchard to rob because it belonged to the nuns and they couldn’t run fast enough to catch any of us. Our little hearts would pound like hammers inside our chests as we’d make a mad charge back down along the canal bank. For some strange reason the apples we robbed were always green and sour. The man with the fishing rod would offer one of the boys a pull on his cigarette in exchange for some of his apples.  We were like the Durango Kid and his gang of cowboys as we galloped along pretending we were on horseback. Out of the blue the old Mullingar train would come plodding along on its track. We’d all pretend that we were going to hold up the train and rob its cargo of gold bars. The dust along the canal bank would rise up into a cloud as we galloped even harder to keep up with the train. Some of the lads would fling their apples across the canal water pretending they were throwing bombs at the train. The few passengers looking out at us probably thought we were a bit simple or something. By the time we reached our starting point on the brow of Broombridge it was almost time to go home for our tea or dinner or whatever was on the table. Yes it certainly is a strange thing to stand here and remember all of those young boys whose names I can barely recall and whose faces I’ll never forget. Where are they all now I ask myself? Do they too remember what I do of Broombridge and the Royal Canal? Perhaps some day we’ll all meet here again and share our stories with each other…MC

One thing I remember well in the late 50s when television came to Cabra West. Before the inauguration of RTE (I had to write a composition about that at school) we had a telly on Dingle Road but the screen was full of snow so we couldn’t see anything only shadows.The engineers used to come to the house and raise the aerial up to the sky and you had to tell them when the picture was clear.  Down they came, took your money and off they went. The picture would be OK for about half an hour and then the snow would come back again. The whole place was full of aerials high up in the air and no pictures. Two doors up from us lived another McGrath family and the boys names were the same as ours.  Paddy, Michael and Noel. Well, Michael was a great footballer who played for Home Farm with Liam Whelan (RIP) and he was then playing for Blackburn Rovers. The teams in the 1960 Cup Final in Wembley were Blackburn Rovers -v- Wolves and Michael McGrath was playing. In our house everyone was trying to watch the match through the snow.Wolves won 3-0 and their first goal was an own goal scored by none other than Mick McGrath.  Needless to say his mother wasn’t too happy about that, nor for that matter were the rest of us on Dingle Road.  The best thing about it was we couldn’t see it very well. Then came RTE and of course no problem with seeing the telly then.  Do you remember when they were encouraging people to improve the Gaelic and began Buntus Cainte.  They were amazed that so many tuned in (rumour has it the big draw was the nice looking girls in their mini skirts (say no more).

Hi Martin  My Daughter Christina is in the process of helping to set up a radio station in

Accidental Drowning: On Tuesday 13th November 1951 the Evening Herald reported the death by drowning of two young English girls. A dense fog had enveloped most of Dublin City on that particular day. The two girls were returning by taxi to their guest house in Clontarf after spending an evening out. They had earlier dined in the Metropole Restaurant and later went dancing to the Four Provinces Ballroom in Harcourt Street. Two men crossing Butt Bridge reported hearing a loud splash in the river. On rushing to the quayside they saw a man struggling in the water.The man was rescued with the help of a life buoy. The taxi driver from Leix Road in Cabra was a non swimmer who managed to escape from his submerged taxi. The taxi had entered the water from the south side of the River Liffey.

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October 1951: The Dublin Board of Assistance today approved the recommendation of the visiting committe that a new dispensary be erected at Carnlough Road to serve the West Cabra housing area.

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