B S: Sean, when you were standing at your front door, could you describe to me your street, you know what was opposite you, what was maybe your view?
S L: I certainly can, I certainly can. Outside my door eh of one-eight-five was the blank wall with the background of Mount Saint Joseph’s eh brothers college. It was the mother house of the Presentation Brothers of the world so to speak and that was truly the mother house which is today -- in, in today’s terms is used as Share accommodation. Eh the Brothers are out of it as such but eh there were dozens of brothers there and you’d see them marching in and there was a lovely big driveway and majestic-looking steps going up into that beautiful building off Blarney Street. It’s eh -- the the steps are done away with, the driveway is still there. Some local people are actually working up there with the, the older folks there now that are accommodated above there and em the -- I’d say it’s lovely inside there because it was a beautiful building. But right across the road from me was the eh derelict site so to speak. There were ten or twelve houses there for the last I’d say about ten years right across the road at this point now so that side was totally occupied at this point but em. When we’d lose a ball playing outside our doors now so to speak -- because there was very little traffic in the forties right up long the whole lot of the fifties. We’d have steering cars out in the middle of the road. There wouldn’t be a car on the road and we’d oil em up in such a way like -- who was going to be the fastest coming down to the Brothers’ gate you know and em all of that and we spent hours oiling them up and the old ball bearings from the garages we, we’d go to a garage and say, ‘Have you any old ball bearings?’ and we’d get a set, they’d be delighted to give them. And eh then we’re out the country then, to make another bob then -- was eh picking the blackberries and bringing them in to the market or bringing them down to Ogilvie and Moore’s and we’d actually pick bucket-loads of them but you’d have to get the down before the day’s end because if you left them over for the next day there was a kind of a fur, they weren’t as fresh looking as the day before, and you’re going to lose money by saying -- ah they’re yesterday’s fruit. But they’d still take them but if you can get down there and run yourself back down into the city and get, get them sold you get a nice couple of bob then and we’d do that for days, for as long as the season would last and em they were all little bits and then we, we’d have our little bits gamble then with our bowl playing and whatever. And all of the friends and the friends that were there that time are my friends today. S- Anywhere in town or going out the road, you’re friends forever with them. And they’d be literally hundreds and hundreds of people of at those bowl-playing scores at the time. My dad was very involved as well on the -- for the -- bringing senior players on the Clogheen Road and we’d play out then to the, the laneway running down to the Curraghk-- Curraghkippane em graveyard which is two or three miles I’d say in length in the score. ‘Twould take hours to get there. Trying to push out the amount of people at the time but they were -- you’d never think of home you know or food or anything you’d just be out there. You’re part and parcel of the scene that was in it. ‘Twas a lovely social scene you know. I think the kids today you know eh -- there’s a different direction today but the minute the television came there in -- what? ’60, '61, '2 whatever time around that -- when you were renting a television at the, at the time and it just sucked the children in off of the streets literally overnight, and ‘twas never the same after.
S.B: I grew up on the Commons Road in Blackpool, em and it was a great place to grow up. Everyone left their doors open, so everyone would walk in and out of each other's houses. So it was it was a great place to grow up. We had a huge field, it’s called, used to be called “Tuckers”, we used to call it “Tuckers”, it was the coal field, and it was just all baron. With streams and trees and all hideouts and little bridges em, we used to have our bonfires there and em, a friend of ours, her Uncle used to give us loads of tyres for the bonfire and we used to chop down our own trees and build our own camps and stuff. So yea it was a brilliant area to grow up in.
E.H: Sounds, sounds really nice, it’s em, and would there be like any memories of people from the area that you were growing up with like any characters that stand out or anyone that’s, that comes to mind?
S.B: Any characters. Em, one of my friends ‘Spriggsy, he em, he used to always just be up to mischief, always getting in trouble. Em, he was just one of these, one of the nicest boys that you could ever meet, but just constantly in trouble, just always in trouble and he was a great character. Em, we used to have a bit of rivalry with all the Farranree lads and girls and stuff and he used to just always caused this trouble. You could be walking through Tuckers and Spriggsy would be running because he’d be after saying something or doing something to the Farranree lads or something you know em. Yea he definitely sticks out in my memories because as well as that he was a great soccer player, absolute great soccer player, em, and yea just a down to earth funny guy as well. He’s definitely would be one of the people that would stick out.
E.H: And what was the rivalry, what was the rivalry between the two?
S.B: It was just kind of area you know. I mean Tuckers was Commons Road Blackpool. Tuckers field was Commons Road Blackpool, so that was ours. But the Farranree gangs used to come down and try to take over or something, it was like something you’d see in Harlem or something. Mafia style. Yea so there was never fights, bit of stone throwing or, at each other.
E.H: Name calling or. . .
S.B: Yea, yea but em that was really it they used you know like around the bonfires, we used to have the biggest in Cork, and that was it like. And the Farranferris people used to try and come along and take over the bonfire but we used to have none of it. Cause my brothers would, would have hung around, we would have all kinda hung around in the same gang so our gang was huge. All brothers and sisters of my friends as well, you know, we used to all just chill out and all this kind of thing you know. But yea that was a huge thing the rivalry was a huge thing.
J E: Em how would you think the the kids of today’s lives would be different to yours and what kind of message might you give to younger generations.
P K: To young children, to young generations. Oh my Goodness em you know well there times are so different for them now that the thing I suppose to try and make them realise that the simplest things can be most enjoyable and most entertaining. That they don’t have to have everything they see advertised you know? That family and friends are much more important than material things. It would be hard for them maybe to understand that now. Em certainly eh there’s such a gap there I suppose there are two generations now between when I was a child and the little children growing up now and there’s such a gap in in experience and em oh you know that the computer age having come in and the television age having come in that it got terribly hard to explain to children the happiness that the children of my age had in the simplest things of life and what gave them the biggest thrills in life would be just not understood by the children nowadays. I suppose if the Grannies of nowadays talked one to one with the little children of nowadays they’d be absolutely fascinated but it would be as it is actually a different age they’d be talking about because no more than my age group would understand what the Victorian age was like and what children had then as compared to what I had, growing up. So it would be very difficult only to tell them to keep simple and to keep, have a great regard for for people rather than things. That people are what matter, I would say. That the kindnesses and the neighbourliness that we had as as children em should be kept going with the children nowadays. I think that’s really as I say it would be very hard to make them understand you know that the things that they can buy aren’t as important as the things that they have and the things that they are themselves because they’re very precious and every person is precious, you know?
J E: Em.
P K: So that’s that’s really all I could say about it and about those little ones.
P McC: And of course, we had the fishermen there then on the quay. I mean they used put their boats there and their nets. You know we had.
CO’C: And how many around would there have been?
PmcC; Well, they mostly the fishermen with families, they would go back the generations again, you know. The Flynns, they were mostly families even to this day now they fished down outside Blackrock. The Quilligans, they fish on Blackrock area, that’s their fishing rights now that’s going back generations.
CO’C: And the men that you remember being out here, where would they have lived?
PmcC: Oh they’d lived on Witherington’s Hill or Cobbidge’s Lane. They’d have lived on the lanes around and they actually used have their little boats there and the nets then would be thrown over the quay wall.
CO’C: Okay.
PmcC: You know even in my time. But they were families then again. You know like the butchers were families. ‘Twas all kept within families, the trade, well the fishermen wouldn’t be trades but the trades were and you couldn’t get into them. So if you were, if you had nothing you couldn’t kind of get a trade because ‘twas closed shop. You know.
P.H:
My mother, she was a very gentle woman. She never hit us. My father never hit us. She provided very well for us. We always had good dinners even then in the, say in the early sixties. I think she fancied herself as a cook, you know, and like we’d have cabbage of a Sunday, we’ll say with corned beef or something like that and then she’d make soup from the corned beef from what was left of the corned beef so you’d have that for eh before dinner during the week because when I was at the North Mon, we’d go home at half twelve, I think it was and you didn’t go back ‘till two so we had our dinner in the day time and then father would have at night when he came home, you know, so that’s the way we used to be, all the boys would have their dinners at one o’clock.
And em so, you know, there was, there was sort of set dinners for the week, you know, you’d have the meat, the mutton or the corned beef mainly, there was a very very little steak that time, on the Northside of Cork city, you know, people didn’t have money to buy it. And so you’d have mutton or corned beef and on Sunday and Monday, then we used to have bodice which you probably know, I think they call it spare ribs nowadays, you know, so of course they would be boiled and then you’d have tripe and drisheen, I think we used to have that on a Thursday and then of course Friday was fish. You know for the Catholic observance. So we had fish on a Friday, and then I forget Saturday you had chops, or something like that you know, so that’s the way it was and it didn’t vary an awful lot, there were no pizzas and no pastas, no nothing like that.
And then on Shandon Street, you, you see all the shopping was local so you have a, you’d the pork butcher, the beef butcher and Billy O’Callaghan, I think was the beef butcher, ah the mutton and the beef chops and then you had em Jerry Nolan; he’s still there. I used to go around with him. They had a shop there; a butcher shop and then you had a man further up about three doors from Gerry; I can’t think of his name and I think he used to sell pig meat, you know heads, crubeens things like that, tripe and drisheen and of course you had bakeries there. You had Creedon’s bakery; you had Donnelly’s which I saw this morning is still there and you had Ormonde and Aherne’s and em so all the shopping was done in Shandon Street.
T.D: You mentioned Peacock Lane there. Is that lane still there?
N.M: It is indeed and as a matter of fact, it’s amazing how many of the old lanes are still there right in this part of the city that I’m speaking about which is the Northside and specifically alright in Gerald Griffin Street which as I said commences above in, by the North Cathedral junction and goes down to the junction at O’Connell Street. But there is a myriad of lanes there as a matter of fact when they, the film Angela’s Ashes was being made alright, I mean like the filmmakers came up there to Peacock Lane and to surrounding lanes there, Patrick’s Arch and so forth to film because Limerick had been modernised if you like and where the writer of Angela’s Ashes was grown up sort of no longer existed so they came up here to Gerald Griffin Street and Peacock Lane and Patrick's Arch in particular. So I guess there’s a lot of those lanes still left.
0.00.00 - 0.04.01 |
Background information, House on Friars Walk, Doyle Road and eventually Ballyphehane. Father did not want to return to the house he built on Doyle Rd after Marie's Mother Died, instead choosing to be housed in new corporation house in Ballyphehane even though that meant paying rent. Mother was from Middleton, Father born and raised on Friar’s walk. He went to the model School on Anglesea St. Like to hunt with dogs. Marie went to the South Presentation convent till she was eleven when she move to Guildford, England to her aunties for three month, returned to Ballyphehane but grandmother sick so Marie never returned to school. |
0.04.01 - 0.06.35 |
Ballyphehane in her childhood. All country, spent her days out in the Well Field by the snotty bridge. Pack jam sandwiches, going swimming in the stream and a well for drinking water. Her child hood house on Friars road was the last house on the road. After that it was all dirt road. It would have been across form where the Marian Pharmacy is now. Across the road was tory top lane (not to be confused with Tory top road). The other street (now Reendowny Place) they called ‘the lane’ but when her friend’s boyfriend the captain of the Innisfallen came looking for her one day he called it First Avenue which subsequently stuck. When her friend married the captain they got VIP treatment on the Innisfallen. |
0.06.35 - 0.09.27 |
The Layout of Lower Friars walk. Market Gardens, all of Ballyphehane was market gardens. First house in lower friars walk lived in By a guard by the name of Kearney, he rented from Gerry Coughlan. Next house John Barrett the builder rented from Michael Halloran. The house Marie lived in was Tim Hurley’s, he had a market garden all around the house. He had four daughters, three became Nuns. One got married. There was hill view which was three houses, one was grandmother of Hurley’s, one was Horgan’s, and the other was another Hurley which had nine of them living in it. The next family was the Scannell’s who had a market garden. Then Hosford’s a protestant family who had an orchard. Next was Cotter, the last house on left hand side was Coughlan’s. On the Right hand side of Lwr Friars walk. Jim Barrett and Joe Barrett, then you an O’Connor. The next was William Halloran Marie’s Grandmothers brother. His daughter was married to Paddy Foley and they lived in the house below, also market gardeners. Next was Halloran’s orchard where the church is now. |
0.09.28 - 0.10.18 |
Halloran’s orchard. Small gate through to a small house, Marie’s aunt lived in. Halloran’s (Marie’s great Grandparents) reared her. Marie’s grandmother had six daughters and one son. Further in was the Halloran house, they had a daughter that never married called Katie and she was in another house. Nat the back of the orchard you had Crowley’s and they had an orchard too. |
0.10.18 - 0.11.57 |
After the Halloran’s Orchard you had Riordan who was involved in the I.R.A. Marie is unsure of the exact details but remembers prisoners being released from England came looking for Riordan, Marie’s grandmother sent them to another Riordan who lived in the big house. Then sent word to the real O’Riordan to get out. |
0.11.57 - 0.13.33 |
After his house there was a lane way to Pouladuff Road. Donovan lived there, they called him ‘Murder the Loaf’ and his son ‘slice pan’. Then the next family was Daly’s on Tramore road in a cottage and that was the end of Friars Walk going down. They Called Tramore road Tramore road, but was also known as Hangdog road. Marie’s Grandmothers brother lived where Healy’s cleaners is which was called low lands, In a big house. Marie was caught kissing her Husband Gerry (her then boyfriend) in the ‘Confessional boxes’ (concrete cubicles) by the priest, Who asked if they ‘had anything better to do?’ |
0.13.34 - 0.15.14 |
Halloran’s Orchard. Marie doesn’t remember her great grandparents having it, it was her uncle paddy who ran it. Massive orchard went all the way to Pouladuff rd., with many people employed to pick apples. After Marie’s grandmother got married first she work in the orchard, her husband was a plaster. Originally grandmother was meant to marry a farmer from Ballygarvan, but she was already going out with what would turn out to be her husband and had no intention of marrying famer her parents had matched her with. Great-grandfather told her that all she would get from him in that case is a pair of grey horses to pull her carriage on the wedding day and nothing else. Never got her dowry. So she was the poor one of the family. But it came to her later, one of the Halloran’s that lived by the park died without a will, he was never married, to sell his property every member had to sign, grandmother told not to sign but said ‘what my father never gave me I don’t want’ and she signed it. |
0.15.14 - 0.17.08 |
The city was a million miles away to them, only went in to get shoes and they mostly came from England or hand-me-downs. England had better way of getting things even though it wasn’t too much different there. Marie’s grandaunt was a very holy person, the night Cork city burned they left the animals from the mart loose, which led to a bull going own Friars walk with its chains hanging and rattle, Marie’s Grandaunt thought it was the devil coming out of hell. |
0.17.09 - 0.22.40 |
There was loads of children on Friars walk, they all played down Friary gardens. The Davis’ had nine girls and for boys, the Duggan’s had ten. All big massive families all Marie’s age, all played together. Games they played: Gobs a game with stones, flick stones/pebbles in the air and catch them on back of hand, the gobs had names ska one and ska two, Marbles or glassy alleys, Picky, and skipping. Recites some skipping rhymes. Loads of rhymes like that. I the summer they would be in their bare feet. Marie thinks they had better childhood than today, better memories than looking at a phones and tablets. Marie thinks Those devices aren’t good for kids, but they need to use them for school. They would play with twine and make pattern from twisting, like the gate and baby’s cradle. Her uncle in Midleton was a tailor, he saved all the reels for her, she would put four tack in them and put thread around and keep flicking them over the tacks and you would have a big rope. Collecting scraps was also big. There would be murder over them, robbing them and everything. |
0.22.41 - 0.23.00 |
Marie had two older brothers, Teddy died of cancer at forty three, and the other is still alive and is eighty, he thought out in C.I.T |
0.23.01 - 0.00.00 |
Food growing up. They saw meat on Sunday, maybe a shoulder of bacon. Plenty of potatoes, vegetables and rice. They could make rice pudding some days. They would have porridge in the morning. You would have to be sick top get an egg. They would eye up the top of the fathers boiled egg and fight over it. Mother would get the bones out of the butcher on Saturday, boil them with vegetables and make a big pot of soup, which would last a few days. Back bones, her husband was never given back bones or bodice because they were country people, so when Marie married her father told her to get back bone with tail, Gerry came in from work he turned his nose up at it. He came round. Bought pigs head convinced husband to eat it, not too convinced, her father kept saying the ear is crispy. Tongue was delicious. Tripe and Drisseen, tripe cooked in milk and onions for a long time, drissenn on the other hand cooked very fast. It’s very good for your stomach. Children wouldn’t touch it. |
0.25.45 - 0.27.01 |
Marie’s Husband, was from Ballincollaig out the country side in a cottage. He moved to Blackrock and they met in the boat club at a new year’s eve dance. Liam went to school with Marie’s husband Gerry in St. Joseph’s. Gerry’s mother wouldn’t send him to Blackrock because she would see the pupils smoking over the wall by the house and see said ‘you’re not going down there, you’ll only learn to smoke down there’ so he had to go to the mardyke all the way from Blackrock. They had to be left off early for lunch so they could get home on the 12.15 bus and back in to school after lunch at 1.30(7km each way). . |
0.27.01 - 0.36.25 |
Friars Walk cont. Tory top lane ran at the side of the where the Marian chemist is now. The ex-servicemen’s cottages were in friary gardens. At the end where the bungalows are is where the lane turned off. Johnny Crowley had a market garden there and fed pigs. Bella Dunne her mother Kitty Paul and their donkey was so hungry that it ate the door of the shed. Where Connolly road side of the park was called the field, they played there. Barbed wire divvied it from the graveyard, little bit down was McCloughan’s cottage, then Neville’s slaughter house next to another Halloran. By the front of the graveyard there was a big red brick building with toilets and a water font. All countryside, no house after that. Barrett’s on friars walk off Derrynane Rd? Big house in playing field (tory top park) Catharine Mahoney called Catherine ‘snowballs’. And Noel ‘the goat’ and his wife’s mother nanny Callaghan they used to sit her out in a chair Marie thought she was ‘dotie’ thinking about it now she had dementia, they used light paper and put it in the chute to torment them (they called it thunder up the alley), he would come out in his long johns, and they used to call him the ‘devil out of hell’. There was a pump outside their house. House in the park was used as community centre. Then was ‘First Avenue’(now Reendowny Place) at the end of the houses you crossed a field to pouladuff, Noel Halloran lived in the first house, he was killed down in Dunlop’s, a man Meaney, Callaghan’s, Leary, Fitzgerald’s Harris’. They used to call this area the cross, friars walk with ‘first avenue’ and tory top lane being the other roads. Mrs Harris had teeth that were always coming out, Marie’s brother told Marie that they were the father’s teeth. Paddy the milk man , the grandmother used to make Marie get a sup for the cat off him. CMP dairy not on tramore road at time it was a big house. And where Vita Cortex factory is was Ballyphehane House, which was used a school while Coláiste Chríost Rí on Capwell was being built. The woman who lived by there used to wash the football teams jerseys she was call Mag ‘the Whalloper’ she moved to murphy’s lane , they called her husband ‘Hollywood’ because of his immaculate dressing. All bog down there by Mercier park. Turners cross pitch was all bog. The train line ran passed it. Also the Tramore river from the ESB pitch and putt was all open but no a lot is piped over. |
0.36.25 - 0.39.55 |
The Building of Ballyphehane. Marie’s brother worked on it. Big change, her house was taken to they could build houses. Brother was sent to Skerry’s college (civil service training) but after 2 months it was discovered that her brother was just hanging out in Fitzgerald’s park and not attending college. So he was marched to Leaders for a bib and brace sent to Ballyphehane and learnt his trade on the house facing the graveyard. Marie was thirteen when the development started, she loved it, it modernised her life and luxuries such as Lennox’s Chipper and everything else, very positive. On the cross they would have a huge Bonfire every year and put new potatoes in the corner of fire and all eat spuds. No traffic, only horse and carts, they used to ‘lang on’ (hang on) the back of the ‘floats’ (flatbed carts) that brought the men back from the docks. She wouldn’t say she made friends with the new people moving in, but she was at the age where she was chasing fellas so she welcomed the new arrivals. |
0.39.55 - 0.40.59 |
Haunted house or scary stories. . Scanlon’s house where one of them hung himself, another then was put in to the mental home on the Lee road. They had that kind of tendency in the family. Marie used to go to graveyard where Fr Matthew’s grave was a you could see a coffin in a sarcophagus that made them run away. |
0.41.00 - 0.42.50 |
Say’s she had a fabulous upbringing in her youth, freedom, not like now. On her school holidays they used leave the house go to the well field with their togs, no towel and stay out till five in the evening, no worries. Couldn’t do that today. That house Marie lives in now on Doyle rd was built entirely by her father 80 years ago. All the tradesmen help each out. Marie’s daughter lives on Derrynane rd and was brought in to the neighbour’s house to be shown signatures of the tradesmen that worked on the house and Marie’s fathers was there. |
0.42.51 – 0.44.21 |
Revised the Black and Tans story, all names of people living in house was written behind door and they’d check if it matched. INTERVIEW ENDS |
M N: That’s Daly’s bridge yes. But it was the Shaky Bridge when it was – ya right. Then my other used to kill us because if we went up farther and went over Sunday’s Well Bridge you were looking at the mental hospital. But we never knew it as the mental hospital. Twas the madhouse and me mother said ‘Where did ye go for a walk?’ Now there’d be four of us together like. Eh, we were out in the madhouse road. ‘Where’s that?’ And we’d tell her and she’d say ‘ye, that’s very, don’t be saying them things. That’s the mental home’ she said ‘that’s for unfortunate’ she said, that’s you know she’d be telling us all that stuff. And we, we used to call it the madhouse. ‘And where’d ye go for a walk?’ ‘The madhouse road.’ And then you’d see couples and normally they’d be inside in a ditch and there was a load of em on the side of the road and we used to call em confession boxes. [Laughter] That’s what we used to call ‘em, confession boxes. The fellas’ and the girls would be sitting on the on the – the edge and they might be leaning back and you could see the, the print of the two and we used to call them confessions. Honest to god, we were a terror. But then again we never done any wrong to anybody. You know, we didn’t – we just didn’t and you didn’t curse or anything. That was all. Or if you took the double holy name you’d get a smack into the mouth if you did that.
JCK: Well now, there was a substantial population in a very, very small area. Because of small houses, up a laneway, you could have thirty, forty or fifty houses. So with big families in small houses, you had a sizeable population and taking up very little area. Now, the people that lived there -- you had a variety. The variety in the sense you had poor people, but you had people who would be considered very well off. And the reason for it was -- as an example, Corbett’s Lane. If you walked up Corbett’s Lane, the first four houses would be small houses with ordinary people, working class people, in them. When you came to the fifth house, it would be a two-story farmhouse with a big black gate, tarred gate, above it, and a big yard at the back of the house. Now, at the back of that house, the people who lived in that house had cattle and sheep. Now, you could -- you could have the same thing in another couple of houses and then a big double storey house, and you could continue up the lane at both sides with that situation. So you had poor, and people who would be considered fairly well off for the times, all living in the one lane. Now at the top of the lane, my grandmother, Polly Kelleher, lived, my father’s mother, and across the way from their house was two tripe houses, Welsh’s and Reilly’s, and around the corner, you had another tripe house, Dylan’s. So you had three tripe, drisheen places at the top of Corbett’s lane, at the junction of Corbett’s -- top of Corbett’s Lane and Kearney’s Lane. And at one -- at one o’clock in the day the hooter would go in those places and a lot of women would come out with their rubber aprons and their clogs for their dinner break, and they all lived in the laneways around. So you had plenty -- you had a lot of work going on in those places because you -- as well as tripe and drisheen houses you had slaughter-houses. And to go back to those days, we weren’t far from the countryside, so you could understand that a lot of the men that lived in the area were butchers, and predominantly the butchers came from the north side of the city rather than the south side, because of the area that they were, you had the slaughter-houses. Now, as well as that then, you had families who, their father reared them, and they earned their wages by being cattle-drovers. They’d go up -- the men’d go up Fairhill at two or three o’clock in the morning, round up cattle belonging to the farmers and hunt the cattle from there down to Midleton, or to Carrigaline, or out to Macroom for the fairs at seven o’clock. As a matter of fact, there was one fair held every Saturday morning right over off Anglesea Street, across from the Garda Station, in that little square there across from the Garda Station. Every Saturday morning you had a fair there, and there’d be sheep and pigs on sale there. And those two pubs, one -- the two of them are there but one is idle at the moment -- and eh twas -- they were farmers’ pubs.
DM: When I was growing up it would in latter years would always be Blackpool, Dublin Hill looking down on the city. A sense of my own place there like you know what I mean walking through it but I have to say since I’ve been involved in the Cork Foyer Project in the Assumption, sit down there, have your cup of coffee, look down over Blackpool, rained like last winter, last Christmas there when the snow, sit down enjoy inside in the glass house looking out, Jesus ‘twas a piece of heaven, you know what I mean that would be, I’d have to say that scene is good enough for me at the moment anyway.
Other Interviews in the Collection:
CFP_SR00387_sheehan_2010; CFP_SR00388_sheehan_2010; CFP_SR00389_healy_2010; CFP_SR00390_kelleher_2010; CFP_SR00391_crean_2010; CFP_SR00392_mckeon_2010; CFP_SR00393_twomey_2010; CFP_SR00394_stleger_2010; CFP_SR00396_lane_2010; CFP_SR00397_obrienoleary_2010; CFP_SR00398_jones_2010; CFP_SR00399_saville_2010; CFP_SR00400_magnier_2010; CFP_SR00401_marshall_2010; CFP_SR00402_marshall_2010; CFP_SR00403_murphy_2010; CFP_SR00404_prout_2011; CFP_SR00405_walsh_2011; CFP_SR00406_prout_2011; CFP_SR00407_newman_2010; CFP_SR00408_newman_2010; CFP_SR00409_leahy_2011; CFP_SR00411_newman_2010; CFP_SR00412_newman_2010; CFP_SR00413_finn_2011; CFP_SR00414_ohorgain_2011; CFP_SR00415_oconnell_2011; CFP_SR00416_sheehy_2011; CFP_SR00417_mcloughlin_2012; CFP_SR00418_gerety_2012; CFP_SR00419_kelleher_2012; CFP_SR00420_byrne_2012; CFP_SR00421_cronin_2012; CFP_SR00422_ohuigin_2012; CFP_SR00423_meacle_2012; CFP_SR00424_horgan_2012; CFP_SR00425_lyons_2012; CFP_SR00427_goulding_2011;
CFP_SR00491_fitzgerald_2013.
Heritage Week 2011: CFP_SR00429_casey_2011; CFP_SR00430_tomas_2011; CFP_SR00431_newman_2011; CFP_SR00432_stillwell_2011; CFP_SR00433_oconnell_2011; CFP_SR00434_lane_2011; CFP_SR00435_montgomery-mcconville_2011; CFP_SR00436_ocallaghan_2011; CFP_SR00437_corcoran_2011; CFP_SR00438_jones_2011; CFP_SR00439_ohuigin_2011; CFP_SR00440_mccarthy_2011; CFP_SR00441_crowley_2011; CFP_SR00442_obrien_2011; CFP_SR00443_jones_2011; CFP_SR00444_mcgillicuddy_2011; CFP_SR00445_delay_2011; CFP_SR00446_murphy_2011;
Video Interview: CFP_VR00486_speight_2014
Published Material:
O’Carroll, Clíona (2011) ‘The Cork Memory Map’, Béascna 7: 184-188.
O’Carroll, Clíona (2012) ‘Cork Memory Map: an update on CFP’s Online Project’, The Archive 16: 14. https://www.ucc.ie/en/media/research/corkfolkloreproject/archivepdfs/archive16.PDF
Dee, Stephen and O’Carroll, Clíona (2012) ‘Sound Excerpts: Interviews from Heritage Week’, The Archive 16: 15-17. https://www.ucc.ie/en/media/research/corkfolkloreproject/archivepdfs/archive16.PDF
O'Carrol, Clíona (2014) 'The children's perspectives: Place-centred interviewing and multiple diversified livelihood strategies in Cork city, 1935-1960'. Béaloideas - The Journal of Folklore of Ireland Society, 82: 45-65.
The Curious Ear/Documentary on One (Cork City Memory Map) http://www.rte.ie/radio1/doconone/2011/0816/646858-curious-ear-doconone-cork-city-memory-map/