By John Fitzgerald
(Part One)
Every town and village has its Poet of the People. Annie Keating (nee Kelly) of Bridge Street was Callan’s resident poet. She eulogized every aspect of the town’s life, culture, and heritage in her verses that appeared in the Kilkenny People…or that in some cases were written simply to boost the morale of exiles labouring in far-off lands.
The verses helped to keep alive their memories of a town they had left, amid tears and sorrow, to make a living overseas. Annie’s grandmother was Margaret Canavan, who was forever in demand throughout her career as Callan’s midwife.
A week seldom passed without the gift of a new life transforming the community. No tally was kept on the number of babies she delivered to her native town- it was provisionally estimated to be around three hundred.
Though every birth was a cause for joy and celebration, the local wits occasionally added a touch of black humour to allow for the depressed economic climate of the 1950s.
One man who had been forced to emigrate to London remarked, upon being reminded of the famed midwife: “That lady gave me REASON to cry the day she brought me into the world!”
Annie’s mother Babs Canavan was married to Mick Kelly, who was known in Callan affectionately as “Yany”. Annie and her sister Madge attended the Convent of Mercy School, though Annie completed her schooling in Baggot Street, Dublin. Later she became a teacher, educating pupils at Newtown School and for a while at the Convent of Mercy in Callan.
Sisters Benedict and Celestine at the Convent coached her in the handling of the seventy or so boys at the school. “We don’t want any numbskulls or half wits going out that door when we’ve taught them everything!” Sr. Benedict often joked to Annie. In Annie’s recollection, the good sister went on to work at the “new hospital” in Kilkenny.
Her happiest memory of the Convent was of Sister Mary Agatha, who “lived for music.” The nun’s favourite song-she taught it to all pupils who passed through her classes-was The Little Drummer Boy. She had them all waving green, white and gold flags as they sang or whistled it with her.
Of the pupils there, four made a particular impression on Annie. Monica Molloy and a Ms. Kerwick became Sisters of Mercy at a Convent in Sydney, Australia. Bridie Somers of Chapel Lane later married in America. And Annie Sullivan was a sister of Frank who was a chemist in Boston. Frank and Annie Sullivan’s uncle was Jackie Power of Haggardsgreen.
Annie Kelly married Eddie Keating, who had been serving his time at Jim Canavan’s bakery. Eddie had a lifelong passion for boxing and football. When at school at the CBS, his two great idols were John L. Sullivan, the boxer, and Dara Donovan, the footballer.
He could talk, or spin an elaborate yarn, about every punch given by John L, and every goal that Dar had scored. He had played football himself in Croke’s little field, tussling with Wattie O’ Brien and Bill Troy in the carefree days of his youth.
Madge Kelly and her famous Budgie
Annie’s younger sister, Madge, opened a shop in Bridge Street that was the heart and soul of that section of town: It acted as a magnet for children passing to and from the School. They saved pennies to buy bulls-eyes and sweets.
You could exchange halfpenny for a toffee or a few squares of chocolate. I refer to Madge’s prowess as an angler elsewhere in this book.
She was also the proud owner of a bird in the late fifties and early sixties whose fame spread beyond the confines of Callan to other parts of the globe.
Wherever a Callan heart ticked, be it in the middle of the town, on its outskirts, or in far-flung places as far apart as Kilburn, Sydney, Boston or New York, “Budgie Kelly” was known and loved, not merely for his ability to talk, but even more so for his bilingual skills.
In addition to speaking fluent English, he had an amazing grasp of his native language. Gael-goers nationwide marveled at the standard of Irish he exhibited when Madge granted them an audience with the budgie.
One of Budgie’s favourite catch phrases was “Elementary, My Dear Watson.”
