It Occurs To Me:  Tall tales and deadly fiddling!

“Never let the truth get in the way of a good story”, said Mark Twain.

 I interviewed the great storyteller from Ardboe, Patsy O’Hagan, many years ago, and when I asked him: “Patsy, what is the essence of good storytelling?”, he laughed: “I never told the truth in ‘me’ life!”. 

Of course he did, but he was referring, like Twain, to what is actually embellishment, a crucial element of any good story. I was reminded of this recently at a session where I recalled a character who boasted that he had been in the Swiss Navy and was a ‘Wingman’ on a submarine! 

That also brought to mind the buck whose war record as a fighter pilot included “bombing the pyramids in Egypt” and on his way back home to Ireland, he “stopped off in Switzerland to see men making clocks!” 

At our St Eunan’s College reunion a few weeks ago, I was asked to tell a few yarns and in particular my Carrigart friends wanted a few Paddy Cullen stories. 

Paddy was sitting in Logue’s of Cranford a few years ago when a stranger landed. “Can anyone tell me the quickest way to Falcarragh?” he asked. 

“Are you walkeen, cycleen or driveen?” enquired Paddy. “I’m driving” was the baffled response. “Well, that’s the quickest way!” says Paddy. He was a very generous being and when he found a twenty note outside the old North Star, he bought drinks for all inside. Some time later, JP, the man who had dropped the note came in enquiring about his loss. “By any chance did any of you find a twenty anywhere near hand?” “Was there a hole in it?” enquired Paddy. “No, why?” responded JP. “Well” says Paddy, “there’s a quare buckeen hole in it now!” 

The sergeant once stopped Paddy on his tractor on Carrigart Main Street and noticed a sheepdog in the link box. 

“Have you a licence for that dog?” he enquired. Nonplussed, Paddy replied: “Och naw, Sergeant, but I don’t let him drive that often!” He became very friendly with a visiting Belfast physician who - on entering the North Star one afternoon - met Paddy nursing a whisky.

“You know, Paddy, after that scare you had recently, you’d be better off drinking red wine than spirits”.

The doctor persuaded him to try the alien grape and departed. A few days later, he ran into Paddy again and noticed that the vino was no longer on the counter and there was only whisky in the glass. “No luck with the wine, Paddy?” he enquired. “No Doc” says Paddy, “Mind you, I’d rather be known as an alcoholic than a wino!” 

As regards the wonderful Johnny Doherty, who will be celebrated in Ardara this weekend, he played in Madge the Doc’s in Carrick in the early 70’s, and I was privileged to see and hear him a number of times. Johnny wasn’t just a gentleman, but a gentle, thoughtful person. One night, in that lovely lyrical way of his, he explained that.

“The first time I hit Letterkenny, I thought I was at the end of the world!” Everybody, bar one, listened reverentially to his stories and tunes, and later, he prefaced a tune he’d first “picked up in Scotland”, probably meaning that it was a composition by legendary ‘Strathspey King’, James Scott Skinner from Aberdeen. 

The ‘bar one’, with a whisky too much in him, piped up: “Arrah, Scotland? Sure you said Letterkenny was the end of the world a while ago!’ There was a hushed and embarrassed silence at the offending of a gentleman’s dignity, but Johnny gently lowered his bow, smiled and said, “Ah sure young fella, I was only ever in Scotland wanst or twi’st…you might say I was never there at all!” 

The whole bar erupted…bar one!

                                         The prince of the fiddlers

As you get older, it’s not so much that you have many memories, but many regrets. One of mine is that I didn’t take up the fiddle as a youngster.  My granduncle Andy who sadly died a young man just before Christmas 1934, was a noted fiddler. As Donegalfiddlemusic.ie relates: “Andrew (wee Andy) McGinley of Mín an Aoire was very highly regarded as a fiddle player. He formed an early playing partnership with Mick Carr, with whom he travelled as far as An Port in Gleann Cholmcille and into the neighbouring parish of Ard an Ratha to play at big nights.

He was related to Jimmy Bhidi Mhici of Cionn na Coilleadh and indeed Jimmy often walked to Mín an Aoire to play along with Andy and his brother, Christy. As a result of an accident when he was ten years old, Andy never developed to his full natural height. Unable to work in heavy manual labour, he engaged in lighter duties and found employment as a court clerk and at his father’s shop in Mín an Aoire.

The wonderful Johnny Doherty, who will be celebrated in Ardara this weekend

The Christy mentioned above was my granduncle, Canon Christopher McGinley, who I heard play as a youngster. When Christy was a young curate in Falcarragh in the 1940’s, he came home for a visit to Meenaneary, and Mick Carr played with him in the home place. My mother vividly remembers dancing the night away with her sister and her mother, Brigid.

The connections didn’t end with my granny’s side. Grandad was one of ten Byrnes in his Bogagh family. Everybody, bar grandad Francie, emigrated to the US, and on his only vacation back home, his brother Con was treated to a big night in our barn. Mum recalls fiddlers coming from Glen, Kilcar and further afield, and the girls making sandwiches for the big crowd who attended. 

When Mum’s first cousin and next door neighbour, Michael O’Donnell, was elected to Donegal County Council over 50 years ago, his wife Bridie’s cousins, the legendary Campbell brothers from Glenties, played that night at the hooley in their barn. One day in the 1970s, my sister Deirdre was heading to Carrick and met Johnny walking up the back of Bogagh, and as only a youngster would, invited him back to the house to play. 

The Prince of the Fiddlers spent the whole evening there and allowed my sister Mary to record him, as she was doing Music for the Leaving Cert. She sent the cassette off to the Department as part of the exam and never heard from them again! I’m determined to locate it. 

Oh, how I would have loved to be in their company that evening! 

I’m reminded of the  festival some years ago when I was recording a programme outside near Johnny’s memorial in Ardara, when a visitor from the US looked at the quirky design and enquired: “Are you all commemorating a famous one-armed fiddle player?” Out of good manners, very few of us laughed. If you look at the accompanying photograph, you’ll understand his bewilderment! Mind you, Johnny was so good, you’d think he had three arms!

                                               Priorities!                     

One of the organisers of our college  reunion was Eunan Gallagher from Carrigart. His uncle was a huge inspiration in my early education, as he was the  school principal in Gortnabrade Natiional School. He was a true gentleman and a great teacher… often packing his motor with as many wains as he could, as the school was a few miles from the town…all uphill . On Mondays, Joe eased our way into first class by asking us about our weekend activities, and on one occasion, enquired of a lad from the Mulroy area what he had got up to. “Well, Master, I went tae the Sandy Hills and Tramore Beach wi’ Frankie Galligan and John Boylan.”

 Joe knew how to get the best out of this character and then asked him to give him two reasons why he liked the seaside. His answer was straight and uncomplicated: “Sweemin and weemin, Master.”