The white Christmas of 1964

Tom Gillespie

THIS time last year I wrote of my Christmas experiences as a youngster. In particular, I referred to the Christmas night family celebrations we had in my father, Dick’s, ancestral home at Creagh Villa in Castlebar - now the highly successful Lough Lannagh Village.

My parents, my sister and I gathered there with Dick’s brothers, Tommy, Alfie and Bernie, and extended members of the family.

Last December I wrote how in 1964 Bernie had purchased a massive reel-to-reel tape recorder and he recorded interviews with those present.

I wondered last year where that tape was and what was on it.

Well, by sheer accident I came across a cassette when I was clearing out a wardrobe in advance of painting a bedroom.

At first I put it aside and continued with the job at hand. Later, in sorting out old photographs and other decades-old memorabilia, I reverted to the tape to discover ‘Christmas 1964’ was written on it.

I recalled that Christmas night but had little memory of what might have been recorded.

Alas, I do and did not have a cassette player so my curiosity was even greater to discover what hidden gems were on the tape.

So it was my neighbour, Paul Rodgers, who came to the rescue. He specialises in transferring cassette to CD in Gavin’s of Spencer Street.

What surprised me was that it took a full day to digitise the tape to CD. But the wait was over and worth the 56-year wait.

Finally I got to play the recording, all 15.34 minutes of it, and boy did it bring back memories.

So let me set the scene.

On the afternoon of Christmas Day we - my parents Dick and Patsy, sister Marry, grandmother Sarah Fahey and my uncle Denny Fahey from Newantrim Street, had dinner in our home at Marian Row. As I discovered from the tape, it was a white Christmas and we walked in the snow from Marian Row to Creagh Villa on the Westport Road for our annual family gathering.

There was no shortage of food or drink and as a 15-year-old I was appointed barman and liberally opened bottles of stout that had been delivered from the Travellers Friend Hotel.

There was Teachers whiskey as my uncle Tommy enjoyed a hot whiskey and red wine, which another uncle, Seamus Bourke, convinced me was bull's blood.

Bernie Gillespie waited until all gathered were well ‘settled in’. Present were brothers Tommy, Alfie, Dick and Bernie Gillespie, my mother Patsy, sister Mary, my grandmother Sarah Fahey and her son Denny, Seamus and Chrissie Bourke, St. Patrick’s Avenue, and their children John and Francis and Seamus’ mother, Mrs. Maggie Burke, Ellison Street.

The first voice on the tape is that of Bernie Gillespie stating: “It is Christmas night, 1964, at ten-past-two, and everybody is happy and we are very happy to note that we have the same number of people present as we had in 1962, together with the pleasure of the company of Mrs. Maggie Bourke.”

Bernie went on to interview a young John Bourke who would not sing a song but told him what he got from Santa - a rifle, bow and arrow, painting set, sword and a set of darts as well as sweets and biscuits.

Next before the mic was my good self. Bernie said I had surely grown up and I told him I enjoyed ‘fighting’ with John Bourke.

Chrissie Bourke said thankfully everyone was in good health, happy, and contented in what was the first white Christmas she remembered in her life.

She enjoyed the fact that she could still eat a good Christmas dinner.

Denny Fahey was in no mood to be interviewed but instead sang ‘South of the Border’ and ‘Only Make Believe’.

My grandmother, Sarah Fahey, recalled how she went on holiday to Vancouver and Chicago in 1962. She had been there before and saw an awful lot of changes.

What she liked most about Christmas was the family reunion in Creagh Villa every year.

My mother sang her party piece, ‘Frankie and Johnny’, and told Bernie the most thing she missed about Christmas (1964) was the fact we did not believe in Santa that year.

Maggie Bourke was next to be interviewed, saying she enjoyed Christmas and she had a good time. She recited ‘For Old Time Sake’.

My father Dick told Bernie he had sung several songs over the Christmas, most recently in the Travellers Friend the previous night.

My sister Mary and Francis Bourke, as Bernie said, were ‘having a nap’.

Seamus Bourke said he had a great Christmas entirely but it was costing more in 1964. He joked: “You went down the town with a pound last year and you had a middling time but going down the town this year you get nothing for it.”

Alfie Gillespie, who always told us children he had imaginary uncles upstairs, when asked by Bernie where they were, said two were in the mental hospital and another went to London, though insane, and had made a fortune.

Alfie said he was amazed his nephews - myself and John Bourke - had gotten so big.

Tommy Gillespie, a master story teller, said while it was a white Christmas, yet it was very black, because, jokingly, he said Mrs. Bourke’s friend was down with shingles and her friend's sister had scurvy, which meant there was unhappiness in one home.

Bernie signed off: “It's 3 o’clock on St. Stephen’s morning 1964.”