North Strand Bombing Reminiscences

May Donnelly’s Story

Admin — Mon, 24 Oct 2011 15:14:50 +0000

I was four years old when the bombs were dropped and we lived in one room in Camden Place. We, being my parents, and brother and myself. I remember the searchlights and noise and my father not wanting me to see as my parents looked out of the window. No one slept that night, not knowing what was going to happen next. Both parents died within three years so there was no one to ask later.

Julie Coombes Kiernan’s Story

Admin — Mon, 24 Oct 2011 15:07:31 +0000

It was May 1941; I was seven years old and just about to make my first Holy Communion. My mammy brought me to Summerhill not far from where we lived. She had a docket for a certain shop. This docket she would pay back by weekly installments but would only allow one to us it in a particular shop.

It must have been very near my communion day because the shop was sold out of white dresses. The sales lady showed mam some little blue dresses. They had a print of little pink flowers. I still remember my mammy saying she had hoped to get me a white dress, but the sales lady was telling her the blue dress was pretty on me and went with the blue coat.

I was disappointed but like all children of that time we had not say. We just did as we were told. The Second World War was on but I was only vaguely aware of bombings in England. The name Hitler was often mentioned. Being one of a family soon to be nine children, our lives were occupied by hearing talk from our parents about making ends meet. Bread and potatoes were our stable diet. Oh how I disliked the taste and colour of bread during the war.

The night before my big day, I must have slept very heavy because when I woke up I was in my mam and dads bed. There seemed to be a lot of excitement happening as my mammy told me the Germans had bombed the North Strand which was only a street away from Killarney Street, where we lived. She was delighted I hadn’t woken up as all our windows were broken from the blast. She had taken us all into her bed.

Looking back now she must have felt at that time if we were to die we would all die together. Still life went on as usual and I went to the church of Our Lady of Lourdes. Some of the girls wore black sashes over their white Communion dresses. I was the only one with a blue dress. The day after my First Holy Communion my granddad Coombes brought me by the hand to the top of the street, he lifted me up to look across the barricades at the Five Lamps and the rubble of all the houses and shops. I was too young to realise the terrible loss of life.

Julie Coombes Kiernan

Patricia Clarke’s Story

cityarchives — Tue, 16 Aug 2011 12:20:16 +0000

My name is Patricia Clarke (nee Leech) and my sister is Margaret Kelly (nee Leech). My father was Walter Leech and my mother Mary Henderson.

I was born on the 19th July 1932, my sister was born on 20th May 1930. We lived at 19 North William St with my father, older brother Jim, younger brother Colm and baby sister Deirdre. My mother had just died on the 2nd March of 1941. She was 32, leaving a young family, my brother Jim was 13, Margie was 10, I was 8 and a half, Colm was 6 and Deirdre was only 1 and a half.

My father came from Charleville Mall, his parents before him had a business bringing turf and wood from the country on the barges along the canals for CIE and other companies. They lived in a cottage on the canal at Ballybough Bridge. My uncle worked on the barges and when they came from the country, they would put the horses in the stables at the cottage on the canal for feeding and resting. When my father got married his parents gave him the house at 19 North William Street as a wedding present. The house was directly opposite St Agatha’s Church on the corner of North William Street and Dunne Street (where the old folks homes were later built).

My mother came from No. 20 Summerhill Parade. My mother’s father, David Henderson was Corporal in the British Army and fought in the Boer War and in India. When he returned to Dublin he opened a shoe repair business in the front room which was converted to a shop, at the family home at No. 20 Summerhill Parade. My Grandmother, (my mothers mother), came from Arklow and moved to Summerhill Parade when she got married, she lived all her life there and died at a ripe old age of 99 and eight months (she just missed her £100 birthday gift from the Government by 4 months). After my grandfather died Mr Byrne rented the shoe repair shop and carried on his business there until he died years later.

My grandmother’s house was later turned into Tony Gregorys offices for a short time before it was demolished and apartments built in its place.

No. 19 North William Street was a two storey house with a basement, two kitchens, three bedrooms, sitting room, dining room and an area in the front. We had a tenant who lived in the basement, Jem Lee and two sisters who lived upstairs. At the time, my father had employed a lady Mary Markey to look after us after my mother had died and she lived in the sitting room.

On the night of 31st May 1941, I was awakened with a terrible noise of banging at our bedroom door. The lady who looked after us was shouting “Walter, Walter (my father), get up, get up, we are being bombed”. (On the funny side now, she ran down the stairs in her bloomers and her vest with her handbag tied around her arm with an elastic band).
We all got a terrible fright. We were all gathered together and my father ushered us all down under the stairs, the family, the housekeeper, the tenants, my father, all huddled in under the stairs. All except Jem Lee, he was deaf and he couldn’t hear us calling him. We were all praying and crying at the same time. There was a silence for a long time after the bombing so we all went into the kitchen and sat down on the couch.

We heard another terrible noise, we all started to scream and cry we were thrown off the sofa to the stone floor, the soot came down the chimney and covered us, we were all black. My Uncle Bill who had come down from my grandmothers on Summerhill Parade to check that we were all right and was standing at the hall door and was thrown down the stairs. This time the bomb had exploded on the North Strand. I believe the time was about 1.30 a.m. My father had gone upstairs to see what was happening. My sister Margie got under the arm of the couch with the baby Deirdre, I went looking for my father and myself and my younger brother Colm ran upstairs after him, just as I passed the window on the landing, it came in pieces behind me. I was really lucky but frightened. My brother Jim appeared with a tin helmet on his head and said he was going out to help; he had only recently joined the ARP as a messenger boy….Hence the helmet. My father stopped him from going out, he was 13 years old.

My Uncle had spoken on the steps to a Mr Boyle, who was on his way down William Street to check on his wife, we later heard that she had been killed in the explosion.

I remember too, an ARP man called to ask was everybody safe in the house and we were to go over to the shelter under the church. But my father kept us in the house.

All the neighbours were going to the shelter, where they were looked after. My father would not leave the house. I think my father thought we might be separated. Even when the house was being repaired he would not leave it and it was a long while after that before they were all repaired and in a fit state. It was probably the 1960’s before the site was eventually cleared.

My older sister Margie and baby sister Deirdre went to my grandmother’s house on Summerhill Parade, as they went up William Street past the convent, the basement windows were smashed and they could see the children and the nuns crying and praying, they got to my grandmothers house and stayed for a few hours, to see that she was ok.

I could not sleep for weeks after that.

The next day we went up on to the steps of the house to have a look out, there was a rope tied from our railings across William Street to the bomb site, so we had to stay put in the house. If you went out side the rope the men in charge would not believe we lived in the house that had the rope tied on it.

All we could see was rubble and glass and slates on the road, it was terrible.

All the neighbours were rehoused while their houses were being repaired, but my father would not leave the house even though it was in a bad state, again he was afraid we would all be separated and of course with my mother only dead a couple of months, he wanted to keep us all together. It was a long time after that before all the houses were repaired.
When I got the gas mask and the evacuation card, I cried in bed for a long time every night thinking we were all going to be separated and sent down the country to different people and away from my father. I still have that card and whenever I look at it, I get very sad.

There was a siren put on the school roof and every Saturday it would go off as a test and I suppose so that people would be ready in case of another emergency.

Margies sad memory of that time was a telegraph boy on a motor bike delivering a telegram down to William Street, he did not see the rope and drove into it and he was killed instantly outside our house. He was about seventeen years of age. She has never forgotten him, but never heard anything about him after that.

Gaynor’s sweet shop was just around the corner from our house on Dunne Street, we could go out the back door up the steps, out the gate and into Dunne Street. On the night of the bomb itself my brother Jim came in and told us that the shop was blown in and that there were sweets and chocolate all over the street. My father wouldn’t let Jim out again to pick up sweets and we were dying for some.

My husband Desmond Clarke lived in Pearse Street at the time and he had heard the drone of the planes. He got out of bed to look as he had a great view over the city, and he saw the bomb being dropped, now I don’t know if it was the North Strand or the North Circular Road.

After that there was of course a state of emergency.

After the Bomb

As I said the site wasn’t cleared until the 1960’s however, we had a great time playing.
We used to build houses on the site, with all the bricks, we had a bedroom, kitchen, sitting room, even a hall door, we didn’t have bathrooms in them though!

In the winter when it snowed we made slides with the rubble, we had a great time playing on that site.
We used to collect ‘chaneys’ (coloured broken glass) on the bomb site and set up shops and pretend to sell the sweets.
On Sunday mornings, Hector Gray would set up on the bomb site and sell from a van. (I think this is how he started out), I remember him well.

During the war time of course we had to put up Dart Curtains, or anything black on the windows, there were no lights.

The Glimmerman Calls

I remember well how we got gas in the middle of the day, we had been shown to stick a knife in the Gas meter and turn and it gave us more than the glimmer. Of course when the glimmerman came around to collect the money out of the meter we would be short and have to pay anyway, but at least we got a bit of credit.

Bread

I remember the rationing, there was a shop in Portland Row which used to sell loaves and we would hear about it and go around to queue, you might be queuing for 2 hours for your loaf of bread.

We were lucky, my father worked in the North City Mill and he was able to get sacks of flour, he had to buy them of course, but they would be delivered to the door. We used to make lovely bread and pancakes.

We used to buy the turf or coal by the stone up in Summerhill, this would last for about 2 days if we were lucky.
Of course Tea, Sugar, Butter, Jam were all rationed, but we had coupons, we were allowed a certain amount per person but that would run out of course during the week and we would have to go to the black market for tea. We didn’t mind the butter, because we could fry the bread.

We used to make toffee squares with Cocoa and condensed milk, mix it like a paste and put it into a tin box and leave to set over night, we used to call these chocolate squares.

Editor’s Note: Memories written at Fighting Words Writing Workshop on North Strand Bombing at Casino Forum Group, Marino, Dublin 3, 17 June 2011

Jim O’Brien’s Story

cityarchives — Mon, 15 Aug 2011 11:39:11 +0000

My father had a hackney car and worked the areas of Stephen’s Green, Merrion Row and Baggot Street. He was a jarvey. His name was Edward O’Brien and he had a white horse named Marengo. He parked around the Shelbourne Hotel and picked up visitors from all around the world to bring them to North Strand to see where the bombings had occurred.

Editor’s Note: Memories written at Fighting Words Writing Workshop on North Strand Bombing at Casino Forum Group, Marino, Dublin 3, 17 June 2011

Rita Brady’s Story

cityarchives — Mon, 15 Aug 2011 11:37:53 +0000

The night of the bombs I was fifteen years old and lived in Croydon Park Avenue. I had reserved a gold watch at the jeweller’s Fitzpatrick’s on North Strand and was paying for it in weekly instalments so I would have it for Christmas.

I noticed some noise during the night but my first worry was that the jewellers would be gone and therefore the savings would be gone but it was fine and the watch was there and bought for Christmas. Everyone was talking about the bomb and rushing to see where it fell. Was afraid it would happen again. Not knowing was frightening. People were talking and walking down to see it. Some people were crying, everyone was in shock.

We had a radio. So neighbours would come in to listen to the news, which ended up being very social. The radio was nice and clear and we were the only family on the street with a radio.

I come from a family of four girls and one boy. Father was foreman checker in Sir John Rogerson Quay. We got a penny pocket money on Saturday. My father worked half a day on Saturday.We would be sitting outside waiting for him to get our penny and then we ran down to the shops to buy sweets. The bombings didn’t affect him getting to work. But my mammy was worried and prayed for him

Editor’s Note: Memories written at Fighting Words Writing Workshop on North Strand Bombing at Casino Forum Group, Marino, Dublin 3, 17 June 2011

Jim Morrison’s Story

cityarchives — Mon, 15 Aug 2011 11:36:02 +0000

I was born 5th June 1932 at 47 Bessboro Avenue, North Strand Road. My parents were Edward Morrison and Brigid Butterly. Father lived in Shaw Street; Mother came from Baldoyle, Co. Dublin. And the people from Baldoyle always said we are going to Dublin. It was an excursion in those days. I should have said there were one girl and four boys in the family. I was the third eldest. Life was very simple when we were children in so far as people were all on the same level. People never heard the word Nationalism. We would not have known what it meant. They were happy times. People were content. They were happy days as we did not need a lot to amuse ourselves. I suppose a big happening in my life was the North Strand bombings. In May ‘41 we were living in Bessboro Avenue at the time beside the North Strand cinema built in 1936 which protected us to some degree. I and two brothers were asleep in a double bed. The noise of the planes etc wakened us and when the bomb fell on the North Strand we heard a whistle before the explosions. We seemed to sense danger as we braced ourselves before the bomb fell. I was nine years old at the time and attending the St Vincent de Paul School in North William Street very near where the bomb fell. School was closed for a period as there were damage and traffic restrictions. It was a beautiful morning next day and we were up early going around the area and child like if we found a piece of waste metal we would say say that’s a bit of the bomb, I suppose we were too young to appreciate the seriousness of the situation but young enough to remember there were beautiful leaded lights (windows) of Biblical figures on all the windows shattered. They were never replaced because it was too expensive at the time. Priests from the Church attended the injured. The roofs and ceilings were replaced at no charge where we lived. I remember buildings in the aftermath of damage being pulled down by men tying rope around the chimneys and using a lorry to pull the dangerous buildings down. Also a lady who lives in our avenue suggested we all go to Fairview Park as there were no buildings in the park to fall on us. However, in hindsight, I think this was not such a good idea.

Editor’s Note: Memories written at Fighting Words Writing Workshop on North Strand Bombing at Casino Forum Group, Marino, Dublin 3 , 17 June 2011

Ann Ryder’s Story

cityarchives — Mon, 15 Aug 2011 11:32:31 +0000

I was six when the bombs fell. All I remember is the loud noise. My parents were awake. They told me to go back to sleep as they said it was only thunder. I recall that my mother was standing on a chair with her head out of the window. My father was in bed telling her to get down for god’s sake. We lived beside Croke Park so my mother could see that something had happened beyond Croke Park on the North Circular Road. I went to William Street School. Every window in the school was broken so we had not school for a while. The lovely windows in the Church were in smithereens. We went down next day to the site but were not allowed near it. I remember the gas masks; we kept them under the stairs. That’s where my father told us we would have to go if bombs fell again. The air raid shelters were filthy and no one would go into them. We had an air-raid practice every Saturday morning when the siren would go off. Then the siren came on again-the all clear. I think we were supposed to go to the shelters. We never did.

Editor’s Note: Memories written at Fighting Words Writing Workshop on North Strand Bombing at Casino Forum Group, Marino, Dublin 3, 17 June 2011

Edward Maxwell’s Story

cityarchives — Mon, 15 Aug 2011 11:30:11 +0000

At the time of the bombing I was living at 28 St Aidan’s Park. On 31/5/41 I remember playing football most of the day. As a result I was exhausted and slept throughout the entire bombing. My brother, myself, and two pals were the only one to miss all the excitement. The next morning we heard all the stories of what happened. My older brothers and sisters heard noise and opened the front door and my sister was blown the length of the hall to the kitchen door. Some of my neighbours were members of the A.R.P and were very busy for the next few days. It was a few days later when we realised how serious the bombing had been. I also remember the bombings on the South Circular Road. My father had a shop at Leonard’s Corner and all the glass was smashed. One house was opposite the synagogue. Nobody was seriously injured. The owner of the house was a rabbi named Raite.

Editor’s Note: Memories written at Fighting Words Writing Workshop on North Strand Bombing at Casino Forum Group, Marino, Dublin 3, 17 June 2011

Ann Canning’s Story

cityarchives — Mon, 15 Aug 2011 11:25:55 +0000

I lived at the time at 14 O’Neachtain Rd, Drumcondra. I was in love with a gorgeous fellow who lived in Killarney Street. I was mad about him. I was very worried about him because I felt sure he was killed or injured. I did not know at that time how to inquire about and even if I did know I didn’t know how if you know what I mean. I heard the noise of the bomb falling. I was 21. I was born in 1921 and at that young age you don’t worry about things. We were not in O’Neachtain Road then. We lived near the corner of Richmond Rd and Drumcondra Rd near a chemist shop. I think it is a plant and flower shop now. I worked off Grafton Street in Andrew’s Lane. I was a tailoress. The bombing did not keep me from work. I knew the butcher whose shop was bombed. His name was Mr Savage. He had eight children. His head was blown off. I knew his daughter very well. My father was a member of the A.R.P. He went out at night doing duty during the Emergency. The initials stood for Airwave Raid Precautions. They wore a special hat. I never went down to the North Strand to see the bomb scene. I just heard reports of it. We were young then. Mr Savage’s shop was on the main road near the Five Lamps. They had a flat over the shop as well as the house on Richmond Road so he was either in the flat or the shop at the time. When I saw the picture of Richmond Cottages I remember the O’Connell school boys in their red blazers and little red caps to match.

Editor’s Note: Memories written at Fighting Words Writing Workshop on North Strand Bombing at Casino Forum Group, Marino, Dublin 3, 17 June 2011

70th Anniversary of North Strand Bombing

cityarchives — Wed, 08 Jun 2011 15:04:25 +0000

On 31 May 2011, Councillor Ray McAdam, representing the Lord Mayor of Dublin, and the German Ambassador, His Excellency Busso Von Alvensleben officially re-opened the refurbished Memorial Garden and unveiled a plaque commemorating the 70th Anniversary of the North Strand bombing. This commemorative ceremony, for the victims of the bombing, took place at 2pm in the Memorial Garden on the grounds of Marino College, Dublin 1 in front of a crowd of approximately 250 people.

Alternatively, view the collection on flickr.

Councillor Ray McAdam said, “The North Strand Bombing was an iconic event in the life of Dublin city. It is important for us to remember those who were killed and injured on that fateful night, and to pay tribute to all involved in the rescue efforts and clean-up operation after the bombing. I commend Marino College for restoring the Memorial Garden, creating a space for tranquil reflection and Dublin City Library and Archive for preserving eye-witness accounts of the bombing through their oral history project”.

Ambassador Busso Von Alvensleben said, “The North Strand bombing in 1941 brought death and suffering into this city and to its inhabitants. My deep sympathy and respect are with the survivors and families and friends of the victims. Their ordeal is a lasting reminder of how immensely precious peace is. I thank Marino College for keeping the memory alive.”

The Principal of Marino College, Jim Martin said, “The restoration of the Memorial Garden has been an honour and privilege for Marino College. In addition to being a memorial, the restored garden now provides a lovely, calm and restful space for locals and students of the college. I thank Ellen Murphy of Dublin City Libraries and Fr Brian Lawless, St Agatha’s North William Street, for working with the college to prepare the Commemoration Ceremony”.

The ceremony in the Memorial Garden was followed by a short prayer service at St. Agatha’s Church, North William Street, at which the names of all those who were killed by the bombing were read out. Attending the ceremony were bomb survivors and relatives of those who died, along with representatives of the Dublin Fire Brigade, the Irish Red Cross, St. Johns Ambulance, and the Irish Army whose members-through their bravery 70 years ago- saved countless lives.