The Christmas Dinner That (Nearly) Never Was…
It was early 1965 and I had just invested
in my first car, a five-year-old black Ford Prefect, DI 6858. It declared its age proudly, sometimes letting out a groan
or a rattle. On Christmas morning 1965, my mother, two aunts and myself (the
navigator) prepared for our annual visit to Longford, to another member of the
family, for the Christmas get together. This was an annual event, a renewal of
family bonds, an update on all things small and great.
We took off about noon (after the 11.30
a.m. Mass) in good weather conditions; no snow, no frost, no flooded roads to
contend with. As we swung into Abbey Terrace the ‘Old Faithful’ started to
splutter and chug a little, slowly grinding to a halt at Abbey Terrace
Bridge
My knowledge of the workings of a car was
extremely limited to say the least, a few basics and that was it. ‘Thinking
things that never were and asking why not’…I remembered a friendly little man
named Paddy Conroy who lived a short distance away at No. 8, Lower Marian Road Taylor
After a gentle, well-nuanced, knock his
good wife Mary answered the door. I wished her and the family a very happy
Christmas and then with an intake of breath gave her the bad news of my
predicament. “Come in Christy, he’s sitting here in the kitchen. You can
explain it all to himself,”
Mary said.
Things moved quickly from there. Paddy
promptly collected his magic kit (the tools of the trade) and led the way. In
the midst of all the hype and the hope I couldn’t help but think of a local
Medical Doctor of the time, hurrying to give relief to a sick patient somewhere,
or perhaps help bring a baby into the world. Paddy was the Doctor that morning
and time was of the essence.
He raised the bonnet. Open heart surgery,
hopefully not; too much choke, perhaps? Check the plugs! Minutes passed, the
bonnet still open, Paddy eliminated a few more possible problems and said: “Try
her now Christy…again…again”. At the third time of asking, the engine kicked
into action. The sense of relief was so palpable ‘it couldn’t be described’.
The Miracle Worker (not quite Anne Bancroft) gave a little smile of
satisfaction and simply said: “Keep going and don’t stop till you get to
Longford. See you sometime in Boyle!”
Paddy, God rest him, will forever remain
in our memory for his wonderful deed of kindness that morning and for making Christmas one of the best we’ve ever had.
Christy Wynne
What a lovely post,it brought a tear to my eye. I am Paddy's youngest daughter. My full name is Julia Bernadette although I was always know as Bernie. I was about 7 years at that time. It just goes to show kind deeds are always remembered. I thought I would share another tale with you. It was 1977 I was trying to get home from Charlestown for the weekend,at that time was almost impossible. I got a lift from a friend to Castlerea, I then hitched a lift to Boyle. A kind man stopped he said he was going to Frenchpark which was about half way, I was very nervous as I had never hitched before. He asked me my name when I said he asked are you any relationship to Paddy Conroy I said he was my dad. He then said I know your dad very well he fixed my car many times when I was young and never charged me, just said buy me a pint sometime. When we got to Frenchpark he kept driving, I said I thought you were going to Frenchpark he said I am not going to leave Paddy's Daughter here and drove me all the way to Marian Road.He let me out just before the house so dad wouldn't know I hitched. Such kindness always comes back.
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