Centenary
Published in “A New Ulster “ Magazine - Issue 63 – 2017
Made it! – pay for ticket, grab it, stick it
into checking machine, pull it out, push
through into Station, run onto platform –
right, train just curving down the line
from Balbriggan towards Skerries - stand
catching my breath and watching the
new green leaves of Spring on the trees
up the road towards Milverton, white
clouds piling in from the sea .... and
“Please Stand Behind Yellow line”, more
gold than yellow... as the train door
hisses open, and I step on board, look
for seat at window, all taken, hate sitting
on the outside but can't be helped,
woman staring out the window, flicking a
glance as I search for notebook, fountain
pen (love fountain-pens) - would really
prefer to be on the inside myself but
anyway – train moving slowly as
Windmill, Watermill, Mill Pond,
Martello Tower on Shenick Island slide
past across the aisle - scribble a bit -
people talking on mobiles, talking to one
another, young man with woolly hat,
“She threw me out, but I have to see the
baby, the Judge said ”, and we're
beginning to pickupspeed – other
young man, “Me, I spent St. Patrick's
Day in the Garda Station – me sister
came and bailed me out” -
beautifully-cut black hair, designer
stubble, and I watch as the smooth green
Golf Course flies past, and through the
opposite window, the Lighthouse faint in
mist out at sea , and a girl in the seat
across from me taps at her laptop, red
hair, tan boots, long coat - black, - mine
dark blue, scarf, white woolly hat that I
stuff into my bag, warm high boots,
writing fast, trying to get it all down as I
will try for the next forty-or-so minute
journey to Dublin , gold fountain-pen nib
moving fast, moving towards Clontarf
(Hello!) , Connolly, Pearse - but first
rushing towards Rush (hah!) and Lusk...
and I'm watching out for the castle on the
hill, something...something - Bal -
Baldungan - supposed to have been built
by the Knights Templar, the warrior
monks - must look them up - and the
train begins to slow down , no
rushing now (snigger) and then stops
, the car-park full, red, white, blue
...cars left earlier by commuters
working in the City...and a hiss and
some boys and girls get on, going to
College, maybe...laughing, shiny hair,
laptops out of satchels, fingers flying
already, and the door closes and we
are off again....slowly gathering
speed.... all the stations, all the stops and
all the people - Portrane coming into
view, Lambay Island off the coast - learnt
about that at school - the Vikings
landing on Lambay Island, the Vikings
coming up the Shannon to Limerick too.
Lom na n-each, The Bare Place of the
Horses, - Limerick, a sore place in my
heart, the City of Pogroms and
Sodalities, of long summer days by the
Shannon, of primroses and violets in
Spring, of pussywillow and corncrakes,
the City of the Broken Treaty – broken
- leave that , don't think about all that
...the
train fillingup, the early passengers going
to jobs, more and more again finding
work in Dublin as the recession ends, but
not down here, says my brother-in-law,
no recovery down here as he tries to keep
a family firm going, importing oak and
mahogany from all over the world , trees
that once covered Ireland , “cad a
dhéanfhaimíd feasta gan adhmaid “–
seized by England for England's
Elizabethan ships, that garnered (great
word that!) an Empire for that small
country ..... and I hope I'll be able to read
my awful scrawl back, the result of all
those English compositions years ago at
school - and outside an old grey stone
house, some glass houses pewter under a
leaden sky, golden furse in the ditches -
or gorse- or whin - gorse we called it
down our way - always loved that nutty
almondy scent - green spiky leaves,
white daisies in the fields, clusters of
tiny golden flowers ...all of us...all of us
walking out into the country, kettle, pan,
collecting wood, making tea, boiled
potatoes for frying, sausages, jelly and
custard in jam-jars - all of us.......and
there's a notice up on the carriage wall -
“Réabhlóid 1916, Rebellion 19l6 - Come
to Dublin, Experience the Pageants, the
Exhibitions , the Re-enactments “ - an
invitation to the Nation to celebrate... no,
I prefer commemorate - Easter Monday
1916 when a small group of men and
women - extraordinary men and women -
poets, writers, actors, dreamers, rose up
against England, while the Great War
raged, The War to End All Wars,
“England's difficulty, Ireland's
opportunity”, a ferment of ideas that
brought about a change, the plays and the
poems – and “Step into History” - that
billboard on the wall again...all
that...and again the train slowing
down at Donabate but not so many
passngers now...all that energy, all over
Ireland, clubs and organizations ,
feminist groups, political groups -
G.A.A. , Cumann na mBan, National
Volunteers, National Women's Franchise
League, Irish Volunteers - and the Abbey
Theatre a melting pot (cliche that - but I
like it, nice rhythm, ”mel - ting – pot”)
anyway, a list as long as your arm of
actors of both sexes, playwrights, screen
painters, wardrobe mistresses, all
working towards political freedom,
religious freedom, personal freedom, and
- “Did a play of mine send those men out
to die?“ - ah, for feck's sake, Mr. Yeats,
it wasn't just your play and anyway,
Lady Gregory wrote most of it! – and
the train pulls away from Donabate,
matted couch-grass on the sides of the
high banks and the moving red digital
line over the door into the next carriage,
- An Céad Stáisiún – the next Station -
“Jesus Falls the Second Time” – moving
down through the Church, praying at
each Station – each station bringing me
nearer to the City, - the Eternal City? -
(Getting carried away with yourself now,
Marie!) ) - and then the Malahide
embankment, sheets of silver-grey water
on each side, marshy land, water holes
and grey old reeds, no new life yet,
boatyards, apartments, - thinking of the
chat and talk in Dublin , about books, the
work, the hopes – and again a hiss and a
stop , people getting on and off, and a
hiss again - sky still grey, the train
running between high banks of old
bracken now , trees skeletal here , the
low sun of Spring not yet able to do the
work of regeneration, and we're slowing
towards Portmarnock, and yellow lines
again ... Please Stand Behind... man on
platform, grey hair, bomber jacket,
grumpy – old , old station hut, grey
stone, fluted wooden ornamentation on
peak of roof beside car park “Stad
Carranna – Car Stop? - Carranna,? -
Carrana? ... what happened to
“Gluaisteáin? - many of us still not able
to speak our own language after nearly
thirteen years of intensive learning at
school – but book learning – no
conversation and no fun at all! - unless
you were lucky and joined some kind of
Irish-speaking group and lived in the
language - and outside now new houses,
hipped roofs, cream – row after
row.....and apartments – but half-built -
the ghosts of the Celtic Tiger boom times
– young people living in half-finished
estates, children playing against high
metal fences, the dream of your own
house, your own place - but stranded
now, no chance of selling up...who would
want to buy here? ..and more and more
houses , older, inhabited, the
grey-painted stairs over the railway lines
at Howth Junction, girl standing reading
on the platform as we go by, boots, a
mini-skirt (never go out of fashion\!) and
the train rushing towards the City, station
after station, no stopping now, churches,
factories, the Dublin Mountains in the
distance, the Liffey on the
left......beginning to get frazzled , trying
to catch it all , the ideas, images ,
memories passing through my mind –
over a bridge, a small river, Poolbeg twin
chimney stacks coming nearer, houses to
the left, to the right, big, small, streets
winding through, and the woman on my
left still glumly looking out the window-
when I could perhaps have passed the
time of day with her, talked about this
and that, even heard her story – rattling
across that old bridge , always nervously,
- but I am too busy getting it down,
making it happen on the page, and I and I
...I'm tired now and want to finish, but I
won't let myself, I'll go on......passengers
chatting, boy pulling out ear-phones,
woman settling her hat, putting on
gloves, girls flicking hair, laughing,
excited...very near Dublin now, only
Connolly, Tara and then finally....
..Pearse, the station named after one of
the Signatories of the Proclamation , the
visionary - the teacher - author of the
book, “The Murder Machine”, not about
the Blood Sacrifice, although he wrote
about that too, put words into his
mother's mouth, “I do not grudge them,
Lord, I do not grudge my two strong
sons” ... but I would have grudged mine,
and my two precious daughters too,
screeched against my great loss...but she
was proud of her sacrifice, they say, God
help her....a different time.... slowing
down now.... slowing down and
stopping at Connolly Station , James
Connolly the workers' champion ,
wounded at the Post Office, carried out,
seated in a chair.... shot dead by the
British........and as the train slowly glides
away towards Butt Bridge, I am excited
again, as always, from when I was at
school and loved history and loved the
idea of Dublin, all the buildings, all the
lives lived, all the....”the passing parade”
- me, fourteen - standing outside the
Gaiety Theatre , brought by my aunt all
the way from Limerick to see an
opera....watching it all....and the train is
edging into the Centre of the City, the
high blocks of offices beginning their
stately waltz, showing first one
facade...and then another.... as the
railway line curves towards the iron
bridge , the glass pagoda of Liberty Hall
silver-pewter under the grey sky.... green
white and gold flag flying over the
Custom's House ....and there's the Liffey
below, streets either side crowded with
cars, lorries, buses, traffic lights green ,
the white paper of a new page catching
the gathering words, the gold nib
flashing, as the train enters Tara
Street Station, (the harp that once
....hah!) ...and again the carriage door
hissing open, people jostling, rushing ...
door closing, and the high buildings
graceful, a slow waltz again, the street
below swaying between shops and pubs
and offices as the train glides into
Pearse Street Station , quiet now at this
mid-morning hour, passengers gathering
bags, closing down laptops, pigeons
fluttering towards the Victorian glass and
iron roof as the train slows down
and stops ...and I stop. End of the line.