To say 1976
was a bad year would be to put it mildly, as events will attest.
To say 1976
was a bad year would be to put it mildly, as events will attest.
The first incident happened in late February. I received a call in Florida from Don that Art Manso was in the hospital and would be operated on the next week. The prognosis was that Art had cancer; the doctors therefore decided to open him up and see what could be done.
Our daughter Maureen was visiting us at the time. She was about to return north, so it was decided that she and I would drive up together. After finding out what the situation was we would advise Connie and have her come up later. Although the mission was a sad one, our trip up was unique. How many times does a father, at age 65, and a daughter, age 35 spend three days on the road together. In some of the restaurants we visited we sure made some heads turn when we walked to our table. It was just great, and I will never forget how enjoyable it was for me.
However, things were not enjoyable when we got home. Art was operated on; the doctors found cancer that was in an advanced stage. The doctors advised that he could live from three to six months. This was a very sad blow for his family and for us who had been associated with him for the past twenty-five years. He was like a son to me. When I was confined to the hospital for three months as a result of an automobile accident on Christmas day 1955, Art ran Capitol alone for about five months.
Art died early in May. Now came a very traumatic period, the settlement of financial matters with Mary. The reader will be spared the details of this experience. It must be said that Art Manso was to me a great help in the success of Capitol Equipment, Inc., a true friend, and is remembered kindly very often. Especially when I hear the song Spanish Eyes.
While Art was ill, my brother Jack also was having a problem. Minnie and I brought him to St. Peter's Hospital. He was operated on and was in the Intensive Care unit for ten weeks. On June 1 early in the morning with Minnie and me present, Jack passed on. We were relieved, because he suffered very much after the operation. Although he was thirteen years older than I, he was exceedingly good to me when I was a boy, and certainly when we were adults there was an abiding love for one another. He will never be dead in Mechanicville, as long as I am alive, because whenever I am in Mechanicville, I am called "Jack." He was a most unusual, colorful man, and as long as the members of this generation are alive, in our little town, he will be talked about,
At this point something must be written about Jack's wife, Minnie Hatlee Crotty. When I was a youngster, Aunt Minnie was most kind to me. When a young man and working part time in the Mondern Laundry, which was owned by Paul and Vincent Reilly my first cousins, Minnie and I worked together, and I know how hard the work was. I was only temporary, but Minnie worked there for many years. It was not easy, but never did Minnie complain. Aunt Minnie was and still is (1984) a quiet, soft spoken, kind and considerate person. At this writing she is 82 and lives alone in a very comfortable apartment in Mechanicville - John S. Moore Apartments. As a boy I loved her and still do.
Next, there was Gram Lansing, who by now had spent almost five years in the Eden Park Nursing Home. In October, Connie and I went to Montreal to celebrate our 40th wedding anniversary (Oct. 12), and when we returned, we received a phone call from Connie's brother Gordon. He advised that Gram had been admitted to the Memorial Hospital. About two weeks later, on Oct. 31 Gram passed away. She had lived to be 90 years old and had a good life, but a tough time for the last five years. Gram gave more love in one day than most people give in a lifetime. She was kind and considerate with our children and really loved a good time. Gram, Gigi, Meece, Mother (and many other endearing names) is remembered and talked about when our family gets together.
It was expected of Gram at her age and also of Jack (as he was 78), but it seemed premature for Art who was only 54. Nineteen seventy-six was not the best of years.
TRIP TO IRELAND WITH MARSHALL HANNOCK AND PAT McKENNA
MAY 27 TO JUNE 3, 1978
May 27, 1978
Left Ft. Lauderdale at 1 p.m. via Delta to New York - Kennedy International.
Arrived at Kennedy at about 3:30 p.m. Went directly to Aer Lingus to advise of change in reservation, as I was changing to TWA and going on the same plane as Pat and Marsh. The young lady at the Aer Lingus counter asked my name and when I advised it was Crotty, her eyes filled up and I said, "Did I say something wrong?" She said no but that the name Crotty brought back fond memories of her mother. When she was a little girl, she lived in Killkenny, and each morning it was her chore to go to P.J. Crotty's Bakery to get bread.
I was instructed by Marsh to be at the International Buffet Restaurant in the International Building at Kennedy. I sat waiting for them and could hear the headwaiter advising that there would be a waiting time of 1/2 to 3/4 of an hour. When they finally arrived, I advised them of the wait, and it was decided to go to the plane area and see if we could get a snack. No snack but we were sitting sipping some red wine, and Marsh jumped up and started after someone. When he returned, he told us it was James Whitmore, the actor, and that they were in the hospital together as a result of battle wounds received during World War II.
The trip over in TWA stretch plane was uncomfortable, and reminded one of troop movement accommodations rather than a holiday plane.
May 28, 1978 - Sunny and Warm
Went to CIE to get squared away on the rental car, and when I gave the girl my name she smiled and said, "I went to school with a Tara Crotty in Killkenny." I told her of the incident at the Aer Lingus counter in New York and asked what the girl's father’s name was; wouldn't you know it was P. J. Crotty!
Got a little Cortina car with a rack on top to hold our baggage. Marsh used one of his belts to secure the bags, and it was used throughout the trip.
Drove directly to Dromoland Castle, where we were assigned our rooms. The Irish breakfast was welcome, and we really enjoyed it. Changed our clothes and immediately took off for Lahinch Golf Links - 30 miles away.
We had a wonderful round of golf, and Marsh had an 87, Pat 104, and CRC 88. At the 19th, we had some Irish beer and noticed over the bar a barometer that has not operated for years. Underneath it was a sign: "Weather - Look for the Goats." If they are on the course, it's OK to play, but if they are huddled next to the clubhouse don't venture out because the weather is too inclement.
Back to Dromoland and dinner, which was just great. Writing the last of these notes at 20-min. to 11 p.m. at the close of a long day.
May 29, 1978 - Sunny and Warm
Drove from Dromoland to Ballybunion via Limerick Askeaton, Glin, Tarbert and Asdee. Bob Goalby has said of Ballybunion, "Pebble Beach is the only course comparable with it." No. 2 is the number one handicap hole (where the second shot is between two hills and to an elevated green). No 7, 400 yds., plays along the Atlantic ocean about 80 to 100 feet above a beautiful golden beach; one golf writer compares this hole with Pine Valley's No. 13. No. 11, the number two handicap (390 yds. and a very difficult par 4), has an elevated tee and borders the cliff along the beach. The dunes to the fairway and along the fairway are intimidating. The fairway is broken into three different "Pieces", the landing area, a shelf roughly 100 yds. beyond a lower level, and finally a narrow path threading its way between sand hills. on the far side of the hills the green is revealed, which is undulating and with high dune grass to the apron. No. 17, 351 yds, the tee is high in the air and a beautiful view of the ocean and mountains; one can bite off a chunk of distance by going across the towering dune on the left and an iron into the green. If one plays to the fairway to the right of the dune, it is a very difficult second shot to the very small-protected green. No. 18, 358 yds, tiny tee backed up to the beach. The drive over the 17th green and up a narrow fairway flanked on both sides by large sand hills; the green is at the top on an extremely steep hill in a dell-like setting - a great finishing hole for a wonderful demanding course.
Marsh had an 84, Pat 102, and CRC 89. Additional comments - the 12th through the 16th without a par 4; namely 12th par 3, 13th par 5, 14th par 3, 15th par 3 and 16th par 5. As Herbert Warren Wind put it, "Dogleg holes of every description sculptured through the choppy land, and straightaway holes where sandhills patrol the entrance to the green like the Pillars of Hercules."
At the 19th, we were having
refreshments when from the jukebox came a series of songs sung by Al Jolson. The records
had to be over 35 years old. The golf carts we had to pull were even older. Pat's cart
lost a wheel. Through the mechanical genius of banker Hannock and the aid of a Band-Aid it
was fixed.
When we got back to Dromoland, at dinner Marsh advised it was his 59th birthday. This called for a celebration, and we had a bottle of good Bordeau and a great meal. I reminded Marsh that he happened to be in Florida and attended my 59th birthday party a number of years prior.
After dinner, Marsh and I talked to the assistant manager of Dromoland Sean Keogh an he advised that he had been in a foursome playing behind us when we had played Lahinch, the day before. He also was kind enough to make reservations for us at the Acton Hotel in Kinsale.
Pat, Marsh and I took a walk around the grounds (trying to find the river) after dinner, and while we were walking a Concorde flew over as it was practicing take-off and landing at Shannon. It made four passes over us while we were walking.
May 30, 1978 Sunny - Warm
After we had breakfast and had checked out of Dromoland, we were off to play The Cork Golf Club at Little Island and took the route through Limerick, Patrick's Well, Charleville, Mallow, and Cork. Upon arrival we went right out on the course. Pat and Marsh were able to get a caddy: a fellow who kept cupping his mouth and talking to himself. More about the caddy later.
The grass was unlike the seaside links and more like what we're used to in our northern states. The course was bordered by the face of an abandoned quarry (about 100 years ago) and the Lee River. Six of the holes were played within the quarry. From the 6th tee the drive was over quarry waste and the green was surrounded on three sides by high rock walls. It was a delight to have played this very unusual course.
During play I was busy taking pictures and had to change the film. I went into a wooded area to change film while there the caddy asked Pat why I went into the woods. Pat told him I had to change the film, that I was a professional cameraman from Hollywood, and that I knew all the great movie stars of yesteryear. Well, did I ever get attention for the rest of the match. He asked about Tyrone Power and Robert Taylor. In fact he kept up the questions on Taylor for the rest of the afternoon. I had to go along with the gag and not spoil the poor fellow's good time. He said he had seen Robert Taylor in Waterloo Bridge ten times. Pat suggested that he, Marsh and the caddy pose for a picture so I could bring it back to Hollywood. It turned out great. Pat's lie probably made the fellow's year. I sent a print of the picture to the secretary of the club and asked him to give it to our caddy.
On from Cork to Kinsale where we stayed at the Hotel Acton, which was very comfortable. Pat struck up a conversation with a young woman from the U.S. whose husband was taking a new job in Ireland, and he asked her about a good place to eat. She advised "The Man Friday" and gave him directions. It turned out to be the best meal we had in Ireland. The name fascinated me, and on doing some research on Kinsale, I found that Alexander Selkirk, who sailed with the buccaneer Dampier, left Kinsale in 1703 on board "The Cinque Ports," a 90-ton vessel. Selkirk was marooned on the lonely island of Juan Fernandez in the Pacific and immortalized in Daniel Defoe's novel Robinson Carusoe.
Kinsale was the shipbuilding center for the British in Ireland in the seventeenth century. In 1601 the Irish and Spanish forces met in the battle of Kinsale against the British. The harbor sheltered a Spanish fleet for 10 weeks, and 4000 Spaniards captured the town. The Spaniards were forced to surrender to the British in 1602, and it became an English town again. Because the Irish were sympathetic to the Spaniards, the Irish were forbidden to live within the walls of Kinsale for many years. It is at present, a resort town where many Europeans harbor their boats and fish the area. The entrance to the harbor (old Head of Kinsale Light) overlooks the site of the sinking of the Lusitania.
May 31, 1978 - Sunny - Warm
Up early and on the road to Killarney via Bandon, Macroon and Glenflesk. We were unable to get breakfast at the Acton Hotel, as we left too early. We stopped at the Palace Hotel in Macroom where a good Irish breakfast was enjoyed.
Arrived at Killarney at about 10 a.m. and went on to the Mahoney. Point Course immediately. This was more like the courses we play in the U.S. It had charm and beautiful flowers and reminds one of playing a course in the Lake George area.
We checked into the Hotel Europe, which is German owned and very well managed. Again the lake and mountains reminded one of being at Lake George.
After showering up, we decided to go into Killarney to look over the town and have dinner at the Great Southern Hotel. At dinner, Pat told us a true story about when he was 17 or 18 years old. He was hired to make a door-to-door survey in Albany for one of the major oil companies. The territory he was given was the Green St.-Dongan Ave. section. Pat didn't know it was the "red light district." At about 10 a.m. he knocked at this particular door, which he had no way of knowing was a whore house, and a beautiful red-headed girl came to the door with nothing on. She asked Pat, "What the hell do you want?" He screwed his eyeballs back in and asked his well-rehearsed question, "What kind of gas do you use?" You can imagine the laughter from our table. It was more comical because of the setting, as the dining room at this hotel was very formal. Many disdainful looks were cast our way. Hannock laughed until tears ran down his cheeks.
Later in the evening, I talked to the porter at our hotel - Hotel Europe. He asked where we were going to play golf the next day, and I told him Waterville. He suggested that we get going early and play the oldest links in Ireland - The Dooks Golf Club. He suggested that we take box lunches and after playing Dooks, we picnic along the way to Waterville. We decided to give it a try. He told me about the pro, who was a lady name Molly Kenyon. Unbeknown to Marsh and Pat he told me about a trick rubber pen she handed you to sign the guest book.
June 1, 1978 - Cloudy - cool
Our box lunches were ready, and we started for
Dooks Golf Club. When we arrived, there was no one at the clubhouse, so we went right on
the course and started to play. When we came in, Molly was waiting for us. Marsh and I
went to the pro shop to sign up and Pat was outside changing his shoes. Molly asked Marsh
to sign the guest book and handed him the pen. Try as he may, he could not write his name.
Molly and I laughed. Finally, she gave him a pen (ten times the ordinary size pen) which
did write. Now in comes Pat. "Hello Molly", as though he knew her all his life.
"Hello, would you please sign the register," and she handed him the rubber pen.
Try as he might, he could not write his name. The three of us were fractured laughing. She
handed him another pen; he tried again and each time the pen hit the paper Pat got a
shock. By this time Hannock's tears were running down his cheeks again. I asked if Molly
would have her picture taken with Marsh and Pat, and she consented. By the way, Molly had
an over-endowed chest, and as they were lining up for the picture, Pat asked Molly if she
would unbutton one more button, for the boys back home. She obliged, and the picture came
out just great.
On to Waterville, where we met Mr. Mulcahy, the owner of the Waterville Lake Hotel and Golf Links and Ashford Castle. After lunch at the clubhouse, we went to the links to conquer it. The weather was cool, and a soft rain was falling. This links is one of the longest in Europe, and is a par 74. Someone has written, "If you can play to par on this course, you can play any course in the world and score good." Marsh did very well, as he had an 84, and with his 10 handicap, which was even par. Pat and I were in the high 90's.
The drive from Waterville to Killarney on the south side of the Ring of Kerry was very impressive. We arrived back at the Hotel Europe about 6:30. As Pat was getting out of the back seat with the remains of the box lunches in his arms, his foot got caught in the seatbelt and he went sprawling on the pavement directly in front of the entrance of the hotel. Again, Hannock's face was covered with tears from laughter. Had dinner at the hotel, which was excellent. It was decided that for the last day of golf we would play Ballybunion, again the next day.
June 2, 1978 - Sunny - Warm
On the way to Ballybunion, we were discussing how we were going to bring the course "to its knees." We were able to get one caddy, and I pulled a trolley. On Monday when we played, Marsh had and 84, Pat 102 and CRC 88. Well, we brought the course "to its knees" - Marsh 89, Pat 100, and CRC 91. Must report that on the 10th tee CRC had a bad drive, lost his beautiful cool and banged his driver on the tee, which broke the head off the shaft. There is a Crookshank driver shaft and head planted in the vicinity of the 10th tee and dedicated to Mr. Crotty's second visit to Ballybunion. Checked into the International Motel at Shannon airport, and it was decided that in as much as we had such great meals at Dromoland that we go there for dinner. It was a mistake. Something must have happened during the week because some of the personnel had changed and the meal was a disaster.
June 3, 1978
Had breakfast with Marsh and Pat. Met Bill Hubbard of Hubbard Guard Rail Co., a good friend of D.A. Collins.
Said good-bye to Pat and Marsh. The past week has been one which I will never forget. It was a singular experience being with two guys I have played golf with for over fifteen years; playing the great links of Ireland; having beautiful weather, good accommodations, good fellowship, and with friends.
End of Golf Holiday in Ireland
BALANCE OF TRIP IN IRELAND JUNE 3 - 10, 1978
After exchanging cars, I started for Galway. About 10 miles before Galway, I picked up a lady and her two high school daughters. They were on their way to shop in the city. We had an enjoyable conversation.
The city was crowded for the Bank Holiday weekend, and after paying a visit to the Irish Tour Board office, I found out that there was not a room to be had in the city. However, they were able to get me a room at a farm house between Galway and Taum, and what a great break for me, as I was to meet a delightful family; Michael and Nancy Fahy and their son Desmond.
I went back into Galway for dinner at the Great Southern Hotel. it was not as good as when Connie and I were there in 1975.
When I returned to the farm, Mrs. Fahy asked me if I would like some tea, and of course I accepted. During tea, she suggested that in as much as it was Saturday night that I should go into Taum to one of the pubs. I thought that would be a good idea, but asked if they would give me the name of one. They did, and to Taum I went. What an experience! Eventually everyone had to get into the act by doing a solo, and when it came my turn I did our son Don's parody on Galway Bay, It was a hit, and I became a member in good standing. No tourists in this pub. A great way to spend a Saturday night in Ireland.
June 4, 1978
At breakfast I told Mrs. Fahy of the wonderful time I had and thanked her for making the suggestion. Went to 9:30 Mass at Taum, and when I was coming out early, met some of my pub buddies standing in the rear. We exchanged greetings, and they asked if I would be back next Saturday night.
I know the weather had to change from what we had been having and it sure did today. It rained like hell until 3 p.m.
Arrived at Rosses Point at about noon. Had lunch at Yeats Country Ryan Motel. Went to Drumcliff Church and took pictures of Yeats' grave. On the headstone there is the following:
CAST A COLD EYE
ON LIFE, ON DEATH
HORSEMAN, PASS BY
Yeats died in the south of France in 1939, and his body was brought home for a state funeral to his native land after World War II. He wanted to be buried in the shadow of Ben Bulben Mountain. Drove to Glencar Lough to see the stream and waterfall, which when the wind blows against the falls, the water appears to flow upwards. The pictures will show this unusual beautiful place. On each side of the stream were thousands of rhododendron blossoms. At the entrance to the falls, there is a glass-enclosed copy of a poem, by Yeats, about a child and this stream.
The weather cleared, and I went to Rosses Point Golf Club and played 18 holes with a young Irishman from Dublin who was on a holiday. It is truly the second best course, in my opinion, in Ireland.
Got back from playing golf at about 8 p.m., took a bath in one of the European tubs (about 10' long), which was just great, and then went to dinner at the hotel. After dinner as I was coming out of the dining room, there was a sing-along in an alcove off of the lobby. An elderly lady was at the piano, and she was just terrific. What a joy to see this group of all ages having such a good time. There was a fellow, who had an arm off at the shoulder and could he ever sing! I stayed for about-two hours; the sing-along was still going when I left for bed.
June 5, 1978
Left Rosses Point early with Malin Head as my destination. Went through Bundoran, Ballyshannon, Donegal, Convoy on to Letterkenny. I was very disappointed in this phase of the trip, and it was probably due to the rotten weather. I decided to turn back heading south. Coming out of Letterkenny, I picked up young, man named Joe McDonough (18 years old). He worked for the Post Office in Galway and was on his way there. I had made reservations to stay at Mrs. Fahy's farm, so he had a ride to within 15 miles of Galway. During the ride, I asked him to give me a complete history of Ireland, and he gave a most interesting account. When he got to the rebellion of 1916 to 1921, he recommended I read two books. I was able to get the books in Galway and found them very interesting.
Went through the village of Knock, County Mayo, and visited a beautiful shrine to the Blessed Mother. I had never heard of this visitation by the Blessed Mother. The shrine and church were beautiful, but the village was a disgrace, as it had makeshift booths selling all sorts of trinkets. I picked up literature and took pictures of this holy place. It was very impressive to see the Irish visitors praying in the church and making the stations of the cross.
June 6, 1978
My destination was to visit the Aran Islands. I went to the Irish Tour Board Office to get a place to stay in Galway, and then to the Aran Islands Office to pick up tickets for the trip to the Island of Inishmore. The Tour Board found me a room in the Rio Hotel , which was very nice. I went there, left my baggage, then went down to the dock to board the boat for the island. On the way out to the island, which was 30 miles off the coast, I talked to a 20-year -old lieutenant of the Irish Army by the name of Jim Fitzgibbons. He was, along with others, going to the island for maneuvers. We talked of many things, but mostly about golf and the Irish courses.
When I was coming down the gangplank an Irishman - John Gill asked me if I would like to hire a horse cart to travel the island. I asked him how much, and he said, "nine pounds." I said "I will give you seven." A deal was made for seven. A little way down the road there were two women from the boat walking and John said, "Would you like to share the cart with this gentleman?" The younger of the two said, "How much?" John replied, "nine pounds for the three of you." This was acceptable, and they climbed in. Introductions were in order: Mrs. O'Neil from Providence, R.I. and her daughter-in-law, Mrs. Lawton from North Chatham, N.Y. I advised that I lived in Latham before moving to Pompano Beach. Well, Mrs. Lawton lived at Brookview St., Latham, before moving to North Chatham. That was the first of many coincidences, and we enjoyed the ride around the island together. When we got back to the dock, it was meal time, and the boat sailed at 7 p.m., so we ate dinner together at the only restaurant on the island. We were sitting at a table for six, so there were some empty places. We were not seated long, when a couple came to the same table. In the discussion of the events of the afternoon, the other couple had smiles on their faces. I said to them, "It seems to me that you would like to join in this conversation." They said that they sure would. He had graduated from RPI and she from St. Rose. She was born and lived on a farm between Stillwater and Schuylerville. We all just could not get over the fact of fate bringing us together in this remote part of the world. On the way back on the boat and about a half-hour out of Inishmore, Mrs. Lawton and I were sitting on the deck, and along came the RPI man. He had been looking all over the ship for me. He greeted me with, "Do you know there's a couple from Mechanicville on board.?" I asked their names, and he said he did not know, but had told them to stay where they were, as he was going to find me. Down we went to the lounge and who was it but Mr. and Mrs. George Reilly. He worked for Alex Mitchell at the West Virginia Pulp and Paper Co. and was a mechanic who use to repair the Manitowoc cranes which I sold to the company. I don't know what the odds are for meetings like this, but it has to be at least a million to one.
The unusual events cannot detract from the wonderful experience of visiting the island of Inishmore. Since the land is rugged and with little soil, the islanders have made the soil themselves with sand and seaweed to raise feed for the cattle. They fish the Atlantic waters in currachs. The people are hospitable and use the Irish language in their every day speech, but speak English to visitors. At one point in the trip, I went off to get some pictures of a prehistoric fort (Dun Aengus), which was built on the edge of a 400 ft. cliff. It is semi-circular in shape because half of it fell into the ocean before recorded history. It is said to be very old - like 2000 B.C. It is a mystery to me what they were trying to protect. While on this little trip, I overhead two natives talking, and I was very surprised at how soft and beautiful the language sounds.
When we docked, I went to get my car and picked up the ladies to drive them to a relative's house. Then to the Rio Hotel for a night of rest after a very eventful day.
Left Galway for Dublin because I wanted to play Portmarnock Golf Course. This was probably my worst day in Ireland. Rain all the way across the midlands. When I got to Dublin I had a bad time trying to get a room, but finally got into the Shelbburne. Very expensive and not good. When I tried to get my car early in the morning to go to the golf course I was told I could not get it until 10 am. Well, you who know me probably know what happened. I blew my stack and went with a bellhop to the garage, moved five cars, got to mine, and drove the hell out of Dublin as fast as I could. For those who have not traveled in Dublin, there are no street signs. Believe it or not you just can't find one. I asked five policemen and was still screwed up headed south instead of north. In as much as I was headed south I pulled over to the side of the road and got out my Fodors Tour Book and decided to go to Powerscourt and then to Glendalough. I was glad I had such a time getting out of Dublin because, as it developed, the day was one to be remembered.
First Powerscourt. What can one say when you see such beauty I arrived before the gate opened and asked the gate keeper if it were possible to go in and settle up my entrance fee on my way out. He was most gracious, allowing me to enter this beautiful spot that I had all to myself for about two hours. It has an ancient history. Richard Cassels, architect of many of the great houses of Ireland, designed the present House in 1720. The House had over 100 rooms, the Entrance Hall having one of the finest examples of Georgian shell work ceiling. In 1961 Mr. and Mrs. R.D.G. Slazenger who, over the years, have brought about many improvements purchased the House and Estate from the 9th Viscount Powerscourt. Unhappily, Powerscourt House, the finest stately home in Ireland (and filled with irreplaceable treasures) was extensively damaged by fire on Nov. 4, 1974. Pictures I took speak for themselves. The Slazenger family live in one wing of the house, which was not damaged by the fire, and maintain the beautiful gardens. The man responsible for designing the terraces was Daniel Robertson, a brilliant eccentric. He suffered from the gout, and directed this magnificent piece of landscaping while being wheeled about in a barrow, clutching a bottle of sherry. When the bottle was exhausted, so was he, and he retired from designing for the day. The black and white stones used in the mosaic work for the Terrace platform were taken from the beach in Bray. After Powserscourt I went four miles across the Estate to the Powerscourt Waterfall, where the water tumbles some 400 feet in a breathtaking spectacle. Two of the four miles on a road about 10' wide with rhododendron on both sides of the road. The most unusual country road I have ever been on.
Then there was Glendalough (Valley of Two Lakes). A hermit monk, Kevin first discovered it, in the sixth century. His route across the mountains still exists and is known as St. Kevin's Road. A great monastic city grew up in the valley. In the ninth and tenth centuries, Vikings found the valley and plundered the churches; English troops raided it in the fourteenth century, but each time some of the buildings were repaired and the monastic life continued until the suppression of the monasteries in the sixteenth century. The gateway arch is the original gate to the monastic city. I took pictures which tell the story. The tower, built about 1100 years ago, is in wonderful condition.
On to Killkenny, and as reported in the early parts of this story, it truly is Crotty country. Found P. J. Crotty's bakery and met him. Told him about the incidents at Aer Lingus and Shannon, which called for a beer and we went to a pub to celebrate. When we got to the pub, of course every one knew him, and he introduced me as a Crotty from America. We had a great time, and he finally told me that he was a Member of Parliament. I was very impressed and told him I would brag about the fact that a Crotty had made it to Parliament. He asked where I was headed; I told him to climb to Crotty's Rock. He thought that was great, wishing me luck.
I went to the Irish Tour Board to see if I could get a room on a farm in or around Clonmel, as it was near Crotty's Rock. They were able to get me in at Highfield Farmhouse, Mrs. Michael Boland, Ballynarana, Kilsheelan, Tipperary.
Before leaving Killkenny, Mr. P.J. Crotty advised that I should see Killkenny Castle. It was a worthwhile suggestion because it is a very beautiful castle. The pictures will tell the story.
Most pleased with the Highfield Farmhouse. Just could not be more comfortable. Took a picture of Crotty's Rock from my bedroom. Mrs. Boland, and the other guests were just wonderful, and we had a great meal and evening together. It was so good, before I left in the morning, I asked if I could stay another night.
Told Mrs. Boland of my destination to climb to the Rock the next day. She said that if she had the time she would go with me; she had been there on picnics when she was a young girl. She explained it was a real climb and that I should take a box lunch, which she would get ready for me in the morning.
June 8, 1978
Up early and started for Crotty's Rock. I went up the same lane that Connie and I traveled in 1975, parking the car in the farmyard at the end of the lane. Told the farmer what I was going to do and asked permission to leave the car and cross his property. He was very gracious and said it was a tough climb from this side of the mountain. Off I went, and in about an hour and a half I was approximately three-quarters the way up. It is here where the going was getting rough. The rocks were jagged and large. I sat down to rest and look the situation over. It did not take too long for me to see it was too much for me. I opened up the box lunch and had a solo picnic. Almost to the Rock but not quite.
I went on to Lismore to take pictures of the castle, and again, as I walked down the main street, there must have been at least five Crotty businesses: grocery, baker, furniture, pub and notions store.
At dinner I told Mrs. Boland of my desire to go back to the States, as I had accomplished all objectives. She got on the phone and called a friend in the travel business. Reservations were made for the next day.
I called Don and told him I was coming home and would be in Albany sometime Saturday evening. Rented a car in New York for the drive home.
The past two weeks were unforgettable, but now that I had Ireland out of my system, I was looking forward to going to the American and Canadian Rocky Mountains with Connie in July.
AMERICAN AND CANADIAN ROCKY MOUNTAINS 11-DAY TOUR
CONNIE AND CHARLIE CROTTY
Westour Hyway Holidays Tour - Seattle
We were assigned a great room that faced the lake and Salamander and Grinnell glaciers.
Cocktails and dinner with the Pierces, and later dancing in the lounge overlooking the lake.
On the bus early, as the trip to Vancouver is long.
Trip through Stanley Park and then the B.C. Ferry to Vancouver Island and Victoria.
The city of Victoria is just gorgeous, and the Empress Hotel has all of the charm of yesteryear.
WITH GEORGE AND MARY DUVAL, CONNIE AND CHARLIE CROTTY
MAY 25 TO JUNE 11, 1979
May 26, 1979, Saturday
Arrived in Ireland at about "half nine" a.m., got our little Cortina car, and drove to Dromoland Castle. After a short rest and breakfast, we drove to Ennis, the former home of Eamon Devalera, on to Lahinch where the great golf links are situated. On to the magnificent view of the Cliffs of Moher. Made a purchase of a couple of tin whistles from Denny McMahon, the only live leprechaun we were to meet. Then on to Lisconner, which is the birthplace of John P. Holland, who came to America and invented the submarine. Drove through the beautiful Burren Country where the exposed limestone rock had the appearance of snow. On to Lisdoonvara where the rock from the quarries were used in the construction of Westminister, St. Pauls, and Tower of London. Then to Corofin, Ennis, and back to Newmarket-on-the-Fergus to Dromoland Castle. The food at the castle was not good and the prices exceedingly expensive. This would be my last trip to the castle, as last year's and this year's stay proved not up to the standard of our previous visits. At the outset of this tale, it has been my experience that the best deal for staying in Ireland is in the farmhouses.
May 27, 1979, Sunday
Checked out of Dromoland and started south. Our first stop was Limerick where we went to Mass in an old church. Met the pastor in the rear of the church, and he talked to us about the U.S., Florida and Ireland. He gave us some pamphlets of the Mass in the Irish language. After Mass he spoke to the congregation and acknowledged that there were four people in the rear of the church who were freezing because they were visiting from sunny Florida. Everyone laughed, and we felt like celebrities. We were cold, but this sure was a warm reception. There was a little redheaded baby near us who reminded us of our granddaughter Erin Kelsey when she was an infant. Connie had our Erin’s picture and showed it to the mother and grandmother. Next stop was Adare, one of the prettiest villages in Ireland. It was developed by the Earl of Dunraven and is more English than Irish. On to Newcastle West, Tralee, and the Dingle Peninsula. How can one describe the beauty of the western coast of this peninsula? Brendan Behan described his first sight of Killerney: Three things in life have impressed me (1) the smell of the hair of the first girl I kissed; (2) my first taste of champagne; (3) and most of all the beauty of the lakes of Killarney. This is the way I felt about the Dingle Peninsula. Another way to capture the beauty of Dingle is through the eye of the camera. The weather cooperated, and the views were better than when Connie and I visited the area in 1975. From Slea Head the Blasket Islands were just beautiful. At this site you are at the most westerly point in Europe. Saw the beehive huts, which were the homes of the ancient Druid priests. We visited the place where RYAN'S DAUGHTER, the famous motion picture, was taken, and in particular where the great scene of receiving guns and ammunition from a German submarine took place. There were Irish people enjoying the beach in the very cold Atlantic surf. We stayed at the Alpine House in Dingle, and the accommodations were very good. Had dinner at a fish restaurant, which was excellent. Met a priest from Columbus, Ohio, and we all went to Flannery's Pub for a great night of drinking, singing, and conversation. Connie engaged four young Irishmen and talked to them all evening. Mary was next to an admitted alcoholic and listened to his life's story. Duke could not get over the various characters and how they enjoyed themselves. When we were leaving the place, which was absolutely jammed, Connie and Mary kissed the men around them and everyone they could on the way out, and with each kiss there was a round of applause, until we made our way to the door and out into the rainy night. Surely, a great start of an Irish Holiday.
May 28, 1979, Monday
After a good Irish breakfast at the Alpine House, we gassed up at a station near the hotel, and we were on our way. First village of note was Anascaul, where Thomas Crean set up an Inn called the South Pole: (so named because he was one of the party who found Captain Robert Scott dead in his tent at the South Pole in 1912).
On to Killarney where we stayed with Mrs. Murphy at her home, Green Acres, in the Fossa section of Kilarney. It was located across the road from the Killarney Golf Course. It turned out that her son was one of the great young golfers of Ireland with a four handicap at the age of 15.
It was a nice clear day, and we decided to take advantage of it by doing the Ring of Kerry. Before starting out, we had lunch at the Crock of Gold, and we won't write another word about it except to say, it was awful. We did the Ring in a clockwise manner, taking us through Kenmare, Blackwater, Sneen and on to Waterville where we had a drink at the Waterville Lake Hotel. Showed Mary Mulcahy Duval the home, of the famous Irish-born American millionaire John Mulcahy. He also owned the Waterville Lake Hotel, Ashford Castle and Kilfrush House, Knocklong, County Limerick, where he had former Pres. Nixon as his guest. Mary tried to connect him with her side of the family, but to no avail, and to the disappointment of Duke. Moved on through the beautiful coastline of the Ring via Cahirciveen, Killorgin back to Killarney. Had dinner at Gaby's in Killarney, and went to the Laurel Pub, where Connie and Mary went to the back room to see the entertainment. Duke and I were in the front part talking to an English family, who spoke an unusual dialect from northeastern England. It was a mixture of English, Norwegian, and Scottish: (called Georgie, I think). It was a very interesting conversation.
May 30, 1979, Wednesday
After another delightful Irish breakfast, said good-bye to Mrs. Murphy, and we were on our way to explore the Bere Peninsula. According to Leon Uris in his book IRELAND, THE TERRIBLE BEAUTY, the Bere is the least toured but most spectacular of the peninsulas. This statement turned out to be true. It is different than the Dingle and the Ring and has to take its place in unique beauty among the rugged and craggy countryside’s of the British Isles. The Tim Healy Pass was most impressive and the view from the top looking down on Glenmore Lake and a Megalithic Circle, which is over 3000 years old, was a view not to be forgotten. When one sees such beauty, one runs out of superlatives and has to let the photos take over. Even then it is not the same because the camera cannot entail all the human eye can see.
On the opposite side of the mountain, where an anonymous donor constructed the crucifixion scene, the panorama below was glorious. From the Pass down to Allihies was the rugged country referred to above. At Allihies, was the ruin of an old copper smelting plant and at one time gold was found in this area. Many of the old houses were in ruin, and one wondered why the people stayed. Took five successive pictures to get the whole scope of the scene, and as we were leaving Allihies took a picture of the village and the strand (beach). From this most impressive peninsula, traveled on to Bantry, a Spanish-speaking village. Then to Skibbereen, Bandon and on to Kinsale. Checked into Mrs.Griffents Hillside House. She was a very attractive woman. We went into Kinsale and toured the town. I showed them where Marsh, Pat, and I stayed - the Action Hotel. We went to a pub on the harbor for a drink before going to Man Friday restaurant. At Man Friday, we enjoyed a most unusual dinner. It also was an early celebration of May and Duke's 40th wedding anniversary. Nearby was The Spaniard, a famous pub where we went for an after-dinner drink. Before going in, there was a big black hearse parked in front of the pub, and two young Irishmen all grease and dirt trying to repair it. Connie engaged them in conversation about the petrol shortage, and one of them wanted to know where she was staying because they were going to call for her and give her a ride in the hearse to get petrol for the next day. They were just full of hell. We met them in the pub later, and as they were leaving spotted Connie. They started blessing her with the sign of the cross and singing burial hymns in the crowded pub. The one who fell for Connie looked like our grandson Seamus. This, pub surely warranted the reputation of one of the best in Ireland. I baby-sat for a very young and attractive couple. The child was five months, old and just as good as gold in a very active, bouncing, noisy pub.
May 31, 1979, Thursday
From Mrs. Griffent’s we started for Cork. The petrol situation became critical, but we were able to get five pounds worth and continue on to Lismore. At Lismore, a town which dates back to the seventh century, we took pictures of the castle owned by the Duke of Devenshire, who still spent time on holidays at the castle. The Devenshire family purchased the castle from Sir Walter Rawleigh. It was at this castle that one of Liz Hannock's ancestors was the caretaker before migrating to Canada.
There were a number of businesses on the main street with signs in front of the stores marked CROTTY. We had lunch at the Lismore Hotel, and Duke and I talked to a native who chauffeured Henry Cabot Lodge when he stopped in Ireland for a visit while attending the Viet Nam peace negotiations in Paris.
On to Cahir via the "Vee," which was a beautiful scenic trip -- especially when you reached the far end and could see the magnificent view of County Tipperary to the north and County Waterford to the south. A truly singular sight, so much so that Samuel Grubb, a Quaker living in nearby Castle Grace, was buried in a beehive type structure in an uptight position facing toward the plains. I took pictures of this tomb last year.
On to Kilsheelan to pay a visit to Joan and Michael Boland where I stayed last year. We were unable to stay at her place as she was booked, but she got us in at Mrs. Peg O'Brien's Killhefernan House outside of Clonmel. We had a delightful visit, and Joan gave us tea and her homemade rhubarb pie. Connie, Mary, and Duke all agreed that Joan Boland was wonderful. Also, Michael, her husband, visited with us and asked Connie, if I had told her about the "Dollybird" they furnished me during my stay last year. Connie was bewildered by the remark, and by gestures indicating curves of a woman's shape, Connie finally got the message and a great laugh was had by all.
Peg O'Brien was a charming lady who was along in years and lived in an old Georgian-type farmhouse. The part Duke and Mary slept in was over 600 years old, and the part Connie and I stayed in was about 300 years old. To get to the bath and toilet you had to down the hall. Well, Connie said she was not going to do that because it was too cold and dark. She said she would use the waste paper basket, which was wicker and plastic lined. I warned. her that it may leak, but she paid no attention to me. During the night she had to go, and she woke me up saying the receptacle leaked and what should we do. At 2 a.m. in the pitch black, cold bedroom I gave my advice, "come to bed the damage is done," By morning and some miracle, it did not show, but I cannot attest as to how it may have smelled after our departure. There were no more such activities in plastic-lined baskets again.
June 1 1979, Friday
From Clonmel we traveled to Waterford where we purchased some presents to bring home, and I placed an order with Joseph Knox, Ltd., for a Waterford Chandelier for our apartment. On to the factory to take the tour. It was not as complete as the tour Connie and I had taken in 1975, but it was interesting for Mary and Duke. Had lunch at a pub in Waterford and called a meeting to make an "executive decision" regarding the bypassing Dublin because of the now sticky petrol shortage. It was decided to take the Midland route to the north and not go to Dublin.
Next stop was Kilkenny, which was truly a "Crotty Town." There were many businesses owned by Crottys, the most important being P. J. Crotty the baker. By the way, while we were in Waterford and while I was in the Irish Tour Board office, Duke, Mary, and Connie were outside, and a P. J. Crotty truck pulled up along side them. They talked to the young man, and when I came out of the office, they introduced me to him, his name Martin Crotty. Connie, Mary and Duke went to visit Kilkenny Castle while I went to the Irish Tour Board to see about a place to stay and inquire about petrol. Killkenny Castle was the home of the Ormonde family until 1966 when they turned it over to the people of Ireland.
Kilkenny is a fairly large town with a population of 11,000. It was called the Marble City. The name derived from the black marble quarried from nearby. When I went back to the Irish Tour Board office, they had a reservation for us at the Lunar Lodge Farm about 5 miles out of Kilkenny. The Lunar Lodge turned out to be one of the most fascinating places we stayed. Mrs. E. T. Milne, a very charming lady, owned it. She greeted us as we drove up and immediately you were most welcome. As we drove in a single-car lane to her house, you saw a modern house (built in 1969). On the left and across a small creek was a large farm complex with an old thatched-roofed house which was in the state of decay. This was where Mrs. Milne's ancestors lived for 319 years and where she was born. In 1969, after the present house was built, she moved into the new house. According to custom the last peat fire at the old house was transferred to the fireplace in the new house. This house was most fascinating. As you come in the front door, on the right of a long hall was the front parlor. This was where we had our cocktails in front of a peat fireplace. The rooms were most comfortable and equipped with showers, which was more than unusual in a farmhouse. I walked outside, where she had a unique garden. One plot was in the shape of a Harp with the strings represented by furrows in the grass. At the end of each string where adjustment is made for tuning, there was a rectangular shaped piece of marble measuring about 4" x 18." On each piece of marble, of which there were eight pieces, were the names of the signers of the Irish Declaration of Independence. On one was the name Eamon Devalera. The string with his name on it was the longest, because he lived the longest. The British executed the seven others after the uprising was defeated in 1916. Mr. Develera was scheduled for execution, but because he was born in America, the British could not execute an American-born person. Next to this plot is a garden of roses in the shape of the map of Ireland.
Mrs. Milne advised us to go to dinner at Kytler's Inn, which was 700 years old. The place was fascinating, the food very good, and the service excellent. It was started by Alice Kytler, who was born in Kilkenny in 1280, and she went through 4 husbands, accused of witchcraft, she was very prosperous, as she had girls in her employ who "caused men to be lured to her abode, by which her wealth increased." She was convicted of witchcraft and sentenced to die, but escaped to England, and as stated in a booklet about the Inn was supported by certain of the nobility, and hastily conveyed over to England since which time it could never be understood what became of her. Back to Lunar Lodge to spend the balance of the evening in Mrs. Milne's parlor talking with she and two young nurses from N.Y. City before a peat fire. Later, Mrs. Milne served tea and cakes which hit the spot. Almost forgot, she has an attic, which is a little museum of artifacts of Irish history. Among the many interesting articles was the military belt of the great Michael Collins, that he was wearing when his fellow countrymen killed him. What a great place to stay. If I go back to Ireland, I will stay for a few days at this most comfortable place.
June 2, 1979, Saturday
After a most delightful breakfast at Mrs. Milne's, we went to Kilkenny to make another executive decision. I went to the Irish Tour Board and advised them that I had vouchers (visitor) for petrol, which I had obtained in Waterford. They were surprised, because the word they had was that only people who were arriving after June 1 were able to get the vouchers. I showed them mine, which they appreciated seeing. However, they were not able, after some calls, to help us. I asked them where the nearest travel agency was so we could find out about returning to the U.S. The lady referred me to Mannings Travel Agency. I got the group together, and we went to the travel agency. Mr. Manning was unbelievably helpful and got all the information and costs for an early return to U.S. While talking to Mr. Manning, the phone rang, and his secretary answered. She said the phone was for a Mr. Crotty. It was the young lady at the Irish Tour Board, and she advised that a gas station would be open for tourists for about an hour. Duke was dispatched to get the petrol. While I got all the details on returning home. The girls went shopping. After an hour or so, Duke came back all smiles. He had been successful in getting a full tank of petrol. A decision was made to go on to Sligo. By the way, the cost of an early return would have been $636 per couple. No way were we going to return early. Thank God for that wonderful girl at the Irish Tour Board in Kilkenny. Leaving Kilkenny singing Ring-a-ding-a-do--Daddy-o, we started for Sligo via Porlaoise, Tullamore, Athlone, Roscommon, where we stayed with Mrs. Maloy at her Carrowroe Park Georgian farmhouse. Mrs. Maloy did not seem friendly, to Connie, Mary and Duke at first, but I talked with her before we went to dinner, and she seemed like a fine lady to me. At breakfast, the next morning, we all agreed she was very nice, and to a question from Duke as to how she was able to manage such a big operation alone, she replied, "I just keep batting at it." We went into Roscommon to dinner at the Royal Hotel, where there was a wedding reception going on. What a time they were having. Met a Mr. Kilgallen, who gave us plenty of laughs.
June 3, 1979, Sunday
We went to an early Mass in Roscommon, and then on to Sligo via Boyle. At Sligo, we immediately found lodging at Sea Park House and started touring the area. We learned that there was a gliding contest at Strandhill and made another "executive decision." Everything turned out for the best because while touring back from Strandhill, at a place called Carrowmore, we saw and took pictures of a couple of the largest concentrations of megalithic tombs to be seen in Europe. There were at least 65 tombs in the immediate area. The pottery, food vessels, etc. were of the Neolithic period (Stone Age between 2500 and 2000 years BC). The articles found furnished proof of the age of these tombs. This was a very impressive sight to me. Back to Sligo where we had dinner at the Ryan Yeats Country Hotel, which was very near the Rosses Point Golf Links. Took Duke and Mary for a walk on the course before dinner. After dinner we waited for the piano player to start a sing along, which turned out to be a disappointment, as it was much better last year, when I stayed here.
June 4, 1979, Monday
We took leave of Sligo and headed for Ballina where relatives of a neighbor of Duke and Mary ran a large hotel - The Downhill Hotel. The neighbor had given Mary mail to deliver because of the Postal strike. As Duke said, "One good turn deserves another," and thought we could get some gas through their influence. We were sadly disappointed, as all we got was a lot of advice, which we did not heed as by this time we were experts in getting petrol when it was available. So at this point we had another executive meeting and decided to forego going to Belmullet and the Achill Island. Instead we took a shortcut to Westport via, Caslebar and on the way saw a little store with a gas pump. Mary went in to ask for petrol. She was directed to the boss who was having tea and bread at the kitchen table. When Mary asked for gas he said he would give us two gallons, whereupon Mary gave the old guy a kiss on his forehead! From Westport we went to Leenane and on to Cliften, which is very beautiful. The Sky Line trip at Cliften (10 miles) is positively beautiful and should not be missed if one is in this area. We found a place to stay at the Behrbarn House outside of Cliften and went to dine at O'Gradys, which was very nice. Walking around Cliften, we noticed a group of young people in a store setting up for business and featuring the pottery that was written up in the magazine IRELAND. We stopped into buy a candleholder for Ruth Crotty, and because I was the very first customer, the brother of the maker of the pottery (himself a glassblower) gave me a cream pitcher as a gift. Walking around the town a young man was standing in front of T. Manion's Pub, and I engaged him in conversation. After a while he asked me, "Are you a returned immigrant?" It was the finest compliment I received in Ireland.
June 5, 1979, Tuesday
After breakfast we headed out on the Sky Drive. As stated before, this is a must if one goes to Ireland. The morning was beautiful, and we could see for miles. Returning to Cliften, there was a spot in the road where Cliften reminded one of coming into a Swiss village. We did some shopping at Manion's Store. There are many Manions living in Cliften. Duke and I bought caps, and Connie and Mary made other purchases for gifts. As we were leaving Cliften, there was a sign "4 miles to the landing Spot of Alcott and Brown." This was the first Trans-Atlantic flight; they crashed landed in Ireland on June 15 1918.
It was interesting, because we were in Ireland ten days short of the sixtieth anniversary of this historical event. I looked for but found no mention of the event in any newspapers in the U.S. It doesn't take long to be forgotten.
The sign was misleading, as it was four miles to the road leading to the landing site. We drove in for a distance, and then the road became impassable, so we parked the car and Duke and I started to the site. Duke gave up, but I continued. On the way back I met a man and a woman on their way out, and as we approached, the man said, "How do you know George Duval?" I was stunned. He said he had just spoken to Duke and that he had worked with Duke for ten years at Cluett & Peabody in Troy. What a thrill for Duke to meet someone he knew in such a remote place. We continued on our way to drive the coast road, which gives one a beautiful view of the sea and the Connemara Mountains. At this point, we were traveling through one of the Gaeltrech regions of Ireland, where Gaelic is spoken. Even the map and the signposts are in Gaelic. Between Ballyconnely and Roundstone an event happened, which really was the most critical of the trip, other than the events of June 11 and 12. We stopped at Roundstone for lunch, and as we were getting out of the car Mary advised she did not have her purse. The car was searched - no pocketbook. We had stopped at The Fishery a very fancy place outside of Ballyconnely about 10 miles back, and the girls went in to see about lunch. Mary came out with the menu. It was decided that the place was too expensive. I noticed when she came toward the car she had only the menu. We had stopped at two places along the road to take pictures of our new summer homes ( abandoned farmhouses), and we thought it may have been dropped at one of these locations. There was no sign of the purse at the two locations, so on to the Fishery Restaurant. Well, you can imagine the anxiety during the trip back. When we got to The Fishery, here was the young man with Mary's purse in hand at the door. We stayed for lunch and had a great time laughing and going over each one’s reactions. Duke was an angel through it all!
We drove on to Spiddal and found a delightful place to stay on the outskirts of the town. The name of the house was Ardmor, owned by Mrs. Feeney. After our first night, we decided to make this our home for the next two nights while in the Galway area. We went to a very expensive French restaurant in Spiddal and enjoyed the meal very much. Imagine a fancy French restaurant in the Gaelic part of Ireland. Back to the house where we met people from Ontario Canada. These people had been visiting relatives in Belfast. They told stories of the problems in the north. Also, there was a young Dubliner name Kevin Smith and his family on a holiday. He was most interesting to talk to, as he knew much about the history and customs of the Irish people. About 10: 30 p.m. Mrs. Feeney came in with hot ginger cakes and tea. The conversation continued until about half eleven.
June 6, 1979, Wednesday
Early, we went into Galway to visit the Cathedral of Our Lady Assumed into Heaven and St. Nicholas, which was a most impressive structure. It was built from local limestone and Connemara marble. We had lunch at the Odeon Hotel on the Erye (Kennedy) Square in Galway. We then went to the Irish Tour Board to get information on going to the Aran Island of Inishmore. Duke and I went looking for a green cap for Duke at O'Malleys. It was closed for lunch. We then went into a Turf Accountant's place and looked over the entries for the Epson Derby. In looking over the charts for Steve Cauther's name, there was a horse by the name of Troy, and I said to Duke that I ought to bet it just for the hell of it. I didn't, and it won. We were out in front of the Turf Accountants, and a real old Harp came up to us and started to lecture us on the sinfulness of betting horses. He told us a very sad story about how he lived alone. How he had been robbed three times lately. How his pension book had no more coupons, and how he had a medical card that he should have carried in a wallet at all times, but that he didn't even own a wallet. Well, you know Duke and I sprang for 50 pence each, which is about two dollars American. After he walked away, Duke and I tailed him, and where did go right straight into Reagan's Pub. Duke and I laughed about being taken. We ate at Mrs. Feeney's and had a fine roast lamb dinner. After dinner Duke, Mary and I took a walk down to the water edge of Galway Bay at the rear of the house. We met a lady who was just finishing milking her two cows in the field. She had two pails of milk in the path and was locking the gate. We started talking to her. There was one pail that had a cover on it, and Mary asked the lady if that was the one with the cream in it. I thought the lady, Duke and I would die laughing.
June 7 1979, Thursday
Another great breakfast and we were off to Galway to get the boat to the Aran Island of Inishmore. The day improved as we got closer to the island, which is 30 miles off the coast, and when we disembarked the day was beautiful. Saw my old driver John Gill from last year, but he could not take us because his jaunty cart was not big enough for four people, so we hired Stephen O'Flaraty, who was a character. Out to Kilmuvey we went in the jaunty cart enjoying every moment, every bounce, and the constant sight of stone piled upon more stones. It must have constituted centuries of back breaking work making the fences. At Kilmurvey, Duke and I started our climb to Dun Aengus, which is the most famous of all fortifications of ancient Ireland. It is a sight to behold. Archaeologists regard it as one of the finest prehistoric monuments in Western Europe. There are three rings of defense, and it has an inner court 150' in diameter, surrounded by an unmortared stone wall 20' high and 18' thick at the base. This is ringed by another wall and a 30' wide "chevaux de frise" (which is vertical sharp stones placed very close together). From the top of the inner walls a beautiful view of the cliffs and island can be seen. Picked some flowers from in between the rocks for Connie. She brought them home to be pressed, as a memento of my trip to Dun Aengus. A great accomplishment for me, as I was unable to do it last year on my visit to this island.
On the way back to the ship, we stopped at a Pub for a couple of drinks with our driver, and met two Aran Islanders. We had a nice conversation with them, and Connie got their names and addresses. one of the jaunty cart drivers sang a couple of songs in Gaelic, which everyone was pleased with. We had dinner at the only restaurant on the island, and it was good simple food. Back on the ship, we enjoyed the children of Mr. and Mrs. O'Conner: Clore, Adel, Jim and Michael. We sang songs, did card tricks and had a great time. We docked at Galway about 9 p.m. and went directly to Ardmore in Spiddal. I stayed up to talk to Mr. Smith and to watch on the Telly the visit of John Paul II to Auschwitz. Another great day.
June 8, 1979, Friday
We left Mrs. Feeney's after spending three nights, and headed for the Connemara marble products factory at Moycullen. The road to Moycullen left a lot to be desired, but we finally arrived, and Connie and Mary made their purchases. Our destination for lunch was Paddy Burke's famous pub at Clairnbridge and then on to Ennis to find a place to stay. We decided on Mrs. Roberts' T & C residence. It was not up to standard, so we only stayed one night. She recommended a restaurant, which was not good at all. The eventful happening today was when we tried to find Mrs. Roberts' house after having dinner. I had by now been taking directions at various times in our over 1600 mile trip from all three of the passengers. Earlier in the day at a little traffic circle in Ennis, we asked directions from a local resident. He directed us, and we had no trouble finding Mrs. Roberts' house. Now, after eating, we came back to town from another direction, and I did not know how to get to Mrs. Roberts. We all became experts as to how to reach our destination. "Turn here, turn there, back up, go forward! "Mary asked me to turn around in the middle of a busy block and go back to God knows where. At last we came on the circle from which we started earlier in the day, and I thought I would see how good my navigators would do now. Well, you should have been in the car. I gave each a chance. There were four ways from the circle. Each of them directed me out of the circle only to be back in it a few minutes later. At this point, had it not been for the laughter, it would have been sheer madness. On the fourth trip to the circle, we took the only route left, and found our way to our lodging. Connie has said repeatedly that she never saw Duke laugh so hard.
June 9, 1978, Saturday
We decided to go to Cong and visit Ashford Castle. After going through the castle we visited the gardens, and I took Duke and Mary for a walk along the Cong River, which runs through the castle property. We went to the Fish House, which is the only remains of a teaching monastery. St. Fechin originally settled the Augustinian Abbey in 683. Turlock O'Connor, who became King of Connacht in 1106, initiated the work on a new Catholic Abbey, a magnificent seat of learning, and at the time one of the foremost colleges in the world with an enrollment of 3,000 students. It is the opinion of many travelers that Ashford is one of the most beautiful castles in Europe. After Ashford, we made another and perhaps the last "executive decision" on Irish soil. We decided that we would find a place near Shannon and stay for two nights and rest up for the trip home. Little did we know what was in store for us. In the book Ireland on $15 a Day, there is a recommended farm, Latoon, which is near the Clare Inn. Connie and Mary went in and found out there were no openings, but the lady gave them the name of Mr. & Mrs. Pat Hannon's Ardsoilus Farm a mile or so down the road. This turned out to be one of the highlights of our trip. They were a young couple in their late thirties with two little children. The farm consisted of 120 acres with about 100 head of cattle. The Georgian-style farmhouse was over 300 years old. It was at one time a hunting lodge, which was owned by an Englishman. It is located almost in the middle of the vast holdings of the O'Briens - namely Dromoland Castle, Mountcashel Castle and two others. Pat Hannon's grandfather purchased the property from an Englishman for 800 pounds. The seller and the castle neighbors made a mistake, as they thought Mr. Hannon was a Protestant. Had they known he was a Catholic, they would never have sold to him. He had made his money in another part of Ireland and was not locally known. Pat told us this farm was raided seven times during the "troubles" because his uncle Jim, who is still living in Dublin and is in his 80's was "on the run" for five years. Pat said his father, who lives up the road from Pat. His father told him how the British had held a pistol to the head of his grandfather while searching the house for his Uncle Jim, saying, "If you don't tell us where he is, we'll kill you and burn down your house." His grandfather had six sons, and his reply was, "You do that and Dromoland Castle and all the others will be burned to the ground within 24 hours, and that's a promise." With six big fearless sons, he had his own little private army. They never touched the house, but did burn many in the area outside the O'Brien holdings. Pat showed us a rife his Uncle Jim used during the fighting, and while showing it said, "Many a Black and Tan was bowled over with shot from this." He said his Uncle Jim was a crack shot and that he shot with both eyes open because he had a glass eye.
The house inside was as charming as it could be, and we enjoyed the warmth of the peat fire in the fireplace at night. Mrs. Hannon's maiden name was Loretta Ryan, and I told her that my mother's name was Margaret Loretta Ryan. She used to work at Dromoland Castle and came to the U.S. and worked at the Breakers in Palm Beach and also in Scottsdale, Arizona. For dinner, she recommended Mountcashel Castle at Killmurry, which is nearby. It was a singular event. The Casey family live in the tower-type castle and have converted part of it into a restaurant. With the cocktail area on the first floor, you have to climb the circular stone stairs to the Dining room, which only seated twenty people. Mrs. Casey was charming, and it was like being her guests rather than patrons. The meal was very good and the wine, which is called "Mead," was most delightful. The dining room walls were a light gray because of the lime in the stone had seeped out and caused this soft color. The windows were slits in the wall - no wider than 6" - and ran the full height of the room. This gave the room a most pleasant glow, and the candles on the tables cast shadows making it a very enchanting setting. It was an evening, the like of which we had never experienced, and most enjoyable.
June 10, 1979, Sunday
We went to Mass at Quinn, which is a little village nearby the farm and where the ruins of a famous Franciscan Abbey is located at the rear of the present church. At this point, we needed two more gallons of petrol to last us the day and to get to Shannon Airport. After Mass, in the village we saw a petrol pump connected with a little store. Mary went in to ask for gas, and the owner said he had no petrol for us today or any other day. After Mary came out, we noticed a native pull up, and he got gas. I immediately went back and asked the man for gas, showing him our tourist coupons. He said he did not honor them and had no gas for us. This was the most unpleasant man we met in all our trip through Ireland. We went down the street to where there was another pump. Mary asked the lady who owned the store, and she gladly gave us two gallons. With this, we went to Limerick, had lunch, and returned to the farm to start packing to leave for home. On our last night in Ireland, we wanted a good place to eat, and Mrs. Hannon recommended the hotel in Ennis, which was most delightful and charming.
June 11, 1979, Monday
Before this day is over, we will have become celebrities. After a good Irish breakfast at Mrs. Hannon's, we went to Shannon Airport. We returned our little faithful car, checked into Aer Lingus, got our seat assignments, changed our Irish money, and went to the Duty Free shopping area and waited for our flight scheduled to leave at 2:15 p.m. We took off at 2:30 for about a six-hour flight to Kennedy - NYC. We arrived on time, which was 4:15 N.Y. time. We cleared customs with a minimum amount of trouble and came out of the International Building into a cold rainy afternoon. We took the bus from the International to the Delta Terminal, which because of traffic took an hour. We had plenty of time because our flight did not take off until 9:05. We were ticketed through to Ft. Lauderdale, and we went directly to gate No. 7, which was posted for our flight. We arrived at gate 7. Next to it was gate 7A, and there was a plane at it. We were the only people in the gate 7 and 7A area. Over the P.A. system, an announcement was made, "Last call for non-stop flight 1061 to Ft. Lauderdale." I jumped up and ran to the desk and asked if we could get on this flight. The attendant advised we could, but he said, make a run for it before they close the door on you, and I'll bring your boarding passes to the plane. We were the last four to get on the plane. When we were seated, we were thankful for this stroke of luck since we would be home three to fours hours sooner. Little did we know what was to happen.
It was a beautiful plane - a Tri Star L-1011 We relaxed, had a couple of drinks and a very good meal. We were off the coast of Florida at Jacksonville. The Captain, who we had not heard a word from (which is unusual) came on the P.A. and said, "Ladies and gentlemen, as you can see, we are off the coast of Florida, but we are not going to land at Ft. Lauderdale nor are we to land in Miami. We have a guest in the cabin, and he had requested we go to Cuba. He has asked to speak to you, and the next voice you hear will be that of our guest." The guest: "My name is Edwardo Guerra Jiminez, and I am sorry for the inconvenience, but what must be done must be done, thank you." Well the word was out, as the hostesses had known about this for about an hour, because the hijacker went into the cabin off the coast of the Carolinas. At first, it did not seem serious, but when the girls came around and prepared us for a mock crash landing rehearsal it was then that the seriousness of the situation struck.
There was no information from the cabin. About five minutes before touchdown the girls advised us to place the pillows in our laps and the blanket over our heads, to bend down and grab our ankles, and to place our heads against the seat in front of us. Glasses off, shoes off, and any sharp jewelry off. In time, five minutes is very short, but in a jet with everyone in the above position, no conversation, just the drone of the engines and the hope of the feel of the wheels touching the runway, five minutes can be an eternity. Thank God, we touched down, and the Captain immediately reversed the jet fans, as the runway is much shorter than this aircraft is used to. We taxied to a remote area where there were flood lights directed at the plane, and we waited for developments. The military arrived in small vehicles with guns drawn. From our position in the rear section of the plane we could not see any of the activity. This condition existed for about an hour, and then we saw three buses coming toward the plane, a most welcome sight. We were brought to the terminal, and as we entered we were each given a boarding pass. We were seated in the dining area. Our table was close to where the Captain and his crew were sitting. Soon, a young man with a beard and dressed in civilian clothes joined the Captain, and they talked for about half an hour. Then the military came to question the Captain and have him fill out some papers. The bearded young man was standing aside looking over the crowd, so I thought I would engage him in conversation if possible. I opened by saying that my friends and my wife and I probably came the longest route to get to Cuba. This interested him, and he asked where we came from. I told him at 2:30 in the afternoon we were in Shannon, Ireland. He thought that was interesting and started to talk with me. His English was perfect. He said he too was enjoying his family earlier in the evening and received a call from Castro (he referred to him as his President), asking him to go to the Airport Tower to make sure that this plane got in OK. He also said he had instructions from Castro: (1) make sure the passengers get off the plane and into the terminal as soon as possible. (2) make a complete and thorough search of the plane, and (3) make sure that we get the hijacker. I asked him what the delay was now, since they had the hijacker, and he said their refueling equipment was not adequate for a large Jet like the Tri Star, L-1011, and they were improvising to refuel the plane.
He was a very fine gentleman. As we were leaving the terminal, he saw me at the gate and came over to shake my hand and wish me luck. Back to the plane and take-off for Miami, not Ft. Lauderdale, because the moment our plane touched down in Cuba, it became an international flight, and we had to clear customs again. Almost forgot, the young bearded man told me that Castro had come out to the airport to observe. We did not see him.
When we landed in Miami, all aboard clapped and cheered, but as soon as we were ready to deplane and were in the aisles, the FBI boarded the plane. The spokesman for the FBI told us to return to our seats, because we have to fill out three forms, There must have been at least ten FBI men throughout the plane, and they had one agent passing out the three forms to approximately 200 passengers. After all we had been through, this seemed ridiculous, but bureaucracy must be served. An hour later, we were ready to deplane. We had to go through customs again, and worst yet we had to face the media. While we were on our way back from Cuba, the Captain advised us that the FBI and the media would be in Miami, as the incident was getting worldwide attention, and the Delta employees would only talk to the FBI and not the media. The Captain suggested it would be a matter of personal preference as to whether or not one should talk to the media.
I said to Connie there would be certain individuals in our section of the plane who would be singled out by the media, and sure enough, they were the ones we saw on the TV evening news. Delta had a bus ready for us to bring us to Ft. Lauderdale. By the time we arrived in Ft. Lauderdale our baggage, which came on the scheduled flight, the 9:05 out of New York, was there waiting for us. Delta gave us a voucher for a taxi from the airport to Pompano Beach. Duke had left his car at Ocean Monarch. It was a little after 5 a.m. when we said good-bye to Duke and Mary. Connie and I went to Sambos for breakfast and in discussing the write-up in the paper, we were overheard by a priest - Father McCarthy - who joined us to discuss our experience. We got to bed at 7 a.m. almost 40 hours after we got up at Mrs. Hannon's farm in County Clare, Ireland. What a climax to a holiday in Ireland, being hijacked to Cuba. Not too many people in the world have that distinction,
And as I have often said, "life can be beautiful."
Tidbits about Ireland
Ireland covers an area of 32,524 sq. miles. Its greatest length is 302 miles, and its greatest width is 189 miles - no part is more than 70 miles from the sea. The country is divided into four historic provinces -- Ulster, Munster, Leinster and Connacht -- and there are thirty-two counties. In at least sixteen of these there is a different quality in the landscape, so that you have an illusion of visiting many countries in the shortest possible time.
GOLFING TRIP TO SCOTLAND WITH MARSHALL HANNOCK
August 29 - Sept. 6, 1980
How I came to go! On or about August 20 Marsh Hannock called and asked if I would like to go to Scotland for about 10 days to play golf. He, Marcus, and Ann Reynolds (who were living in London together with a classmate of Marcus' from Williams College, a Mr. Doug Coleman) had planned a golfing holiday in Scotland. Doug was unable to make the trip, so I became the added starter. Fortunately, I had my passport with me, as I was going to go to Ireland but canceled out because of business at Capitol Equipment. Naturally, when Marsh asked me to go I immediately said YES. Marsh made all the plane reservations and on August 28 at 4:25 p.m. Marsh, Liz, and I left Albany for Prestwick, Scotland. Liz was going to make a pilgrimage to Fihdhorn in the Highlands of Scotland.
First Day - Aug. 29, 1980 - weather rain
We arrived on time in a very heavy rain, cleared customs, and Marsh obtained a car. Off we went to check into the Marine Hotel at Troon; a beautiful old hotel overlooking the golf links and the ocean. My room was in the front of the hotel with a view of the Royal Troon Golf Links and the ocean.
The rain was so bad we drove to Saltcoats. The closer we got to Saltcoats, the more it rained. However, I stopped at a travel agent and asked about the War Memorial and Christie Gardens, as Ruth Christie Crotty had asked me to try to get some pictures. I saw the war memorial, but because of the terrible weather did not take pictures. The young man at the travel agency drew a map as to how to get to Christie Gardens. On another day I would take pictures.
As we approached Troon, the rain stopped so Marsh and I lost no time in getting to the golf links. We went before the secretary and, after asking a few questions, we were allowed to go to the links. We did just great weather-wise until we got to the 15th tee, and it opened up again. Out came the rain gear, and we continued to play the 18. It is the second longest golf links in Scotland and very tough.
We cleaned up and rested until about 5 p.m. when Liz, Marsh and I drove to Turnberry, a beautiful golf resort on the ocean. The hotel and the setting are just magnificent. We had a sherry in the lounge and started back for Troon at about 7 p.m. We stopped at the Safford Hotel in Ayr for dinner, which was just fair. Back at the hotel at about 9 p.m. Checked out, as we would leave early to take Liz to Glasgow to get her plane to Inverness where she would get a taxi to Findhorn.
Second Day - Aug. 30, 1980 - raining very hard
Up very early and left Marine Hotel in Troon to go to the Airport. After seeing Liz on the plane, Marsh and I had breakfast in the hotel at the airport before heading to Edinburgh. We arrived at the King John Hotel at about 11 a.m. and checked on the reservations. We would have to wait for our room for about an hour. We walked around Edinburgh, and I bought a couple of ties. Back to the hotel where people were lined up all over the lobby waiting for rooms.
Marsh suggested that we start out for North Berwick. We arrived in North Berwick about 12:30 and went directly to the Marine Hotel to make reservations for the night and then went to the golf club. Before playing we had lunch at the club, and a very friendly man asked where we were from and how we were enjoying Scotland. We asked where there was a good place to have dinner, and he recommended the Open Arms at Dirleton. We thanked him, and out to the links we went to "bring it to it's knees." The rain had stopped, but it was still cloudy. What a great course - The North Berwick Golf Club. Back to the hotel for a rest and then to the open Arms for dinner.
The village of Dirleton is beautiful. The Open Arms was directly across the street from an ancient castle which was in a state of decomposing, but the grounds around the castle were well kept with flowerbeds and mowed lawns. The meal and service were excellent. We were to check on Muirfield tomorrow, and if we could not play there, the bartender at Open Arms recommended Longniddry Golf Club, Ltd. Ready to retire at 9:15 p.m. Marsh was in bed and asleep.
Third Day - Aug. 31, 1980 - sunny and cool
On to Longniddry early in the morning, as we had to get golf in before going to Edinburgh to pick up Marcus and Ann Reynolds. Longniddry turned out to be a very fine course and we enjoyed it very much.
The plane was on time from London; it was just great meeting Ann and Marcus. On to Gleneagles. I cannot begin to describe this beautiful place. We had cocktails in the lounge, dinner, and then coffee in another lounge where Billy Spout and his four-piece combination - Billy on clarinet, piano, guitar and drums - were playing. We all enjoyed their music very much, and went there every night during our stay. The next day we went to St. Andrews which we were looking forward to with great expectations.
Fourth Day - Sept. 1, 1980 - cloudy
Left Gleneagles at 9:30 a.m. to go to St. Andrews,
which is about 40-45 miles. At this point, must mention that I was the chauffeur, and Mr.
Hannock was the navigator. There were times when the navigator and the chauffeur did not
click, or maybe a better way to put it, the chauffeur did not follow the navigator's
instructions. At times it got bad enough that there were some mild and some not so mild
four-letter words exchanged. If the navigator did not appreciate the chauffeur's abilities
to drive, the Reynolds seemed to.
Our starting time was 11:44. We arrived in ample time to look around. While waiting, I noticed the St. Andrews Woolen Mill Store on the side street adjacent to the 18th green. I went over and looked at stoles, etc., and told the saleswoman I would be back after playing golf.
We played the Old Course which had some very interesting characteristics: (1) there were only four greens which were not double: the lst, 9th, 17th, and 18th, (2) the fairways were studded with traps and bunkers; without the advice from caddies, and playing for the first time, one would be lost, (3) the shape of the course was that of a sea horse. From my standpoint, there were many links I have played which were more difficult, to name a few - (1) Troon, (2) North Berwick, (3) Ballybunion in Ireland, (4) Lahinch in Ireland, and (5) Rouses Point in County Sligo - Ireland.
We all had great caddies, and each time Marsh hit his drive per instructions from his caddy, the caddy would say, "Mr. Hannock - position A." This went on for the first six tee shots, and on the seventh tee Mr. Hannock did not follow instructions, and his caddy was silent, but one of the other caddies spoke up and said, "Mr. Hannock - position B." Marcus could not help remarking, "I'll give that position a D minus." I had an elderly man for my caddy and Marsh was ribbing me about a shot I had made, and I said to my caddy, "And he is a friend of mine." He came right back, "If he is, I sure don't want to know your enemies," and we all cracked up. Marcus and I were against Ann and Marsh. The winners were Marcus and Charlie. The losers wanted a return match at Gleneagles for the championship of the United Kingdom.
The 19th hole was spent in a Pub. Then I went back to the Woolen shop to buy scarfs and a cashmere sweater for my girls and Connie. Started back at 5:15 and arrived at Gleneagles at 6:15. Dinner at 7:30 and to bed at 10:30. At dinner Ann recognized a lady she knew when they lived in Connecticut and went to her table to talk to her. Arrangements were made to meet them in the cocktail lounge the next evening. Another unforgettable day.
Fifth Day - Sept. 2, 1980 - weather terrible - rain
After breakfast Marsh, Marcus and I went to play the King's Course. Ann wanted to rest and enjoy the facilities at the hotel. We were assigned caddies, and wouldn't you know I got a wimeo of the worst order! He knew absolutely nothing about golf, and from the moment I teed off until the last putt on the 18th, he teed me off. It was so bad for me I stopped counting after the fourth hole. The course was absolutely beautiful and could have been very enjoyable if the weather had cooperated and the caddy had been better. Back to the hotel for rest and get ready for the evening. At the cocktail hour met Ann's friend and her group, who were very enjoyable. They all lived in the Delray Beach, Fla., area and belong to Hunters Run - the club Marsh belongs to. Had a great dinner and our usual enjoyable evening listening to Billy and his group.
Sixth Day - Sept. 3, 1980 - partly cloudy
Up very early - 6:30. Sat on a bench overlooking the tennis courts and the beautiful lawn and gardens in back of the hotel. The sun was peeking over the hills directly in my face. This was the day of the return match for the championship of the U.K and I hoped to play better than yesterday. Had breakfast at 8 a. m. and got ready, as Hannock says, "to bring the Queen's Course to it's knees." We teed off at 9:45; the defending champions, Marcus and I, against Ann and you know whom. We all had wonderful caddies, who helped us with our play. Ann, who on a par five made a chip shot to a very difficult green, and the ball had eyes and went directly into the cup, made the shot of the day. Great playing by Ann and Hannock was for naught because Marcus and I were too good for them. Beat them two ways. There was, as Marcus calls it, "a lot of poontage" paid to us by our opponents. There was no doubt who the U.K. champs were. The International Championship to be played in Florida early in 1981.
At the cocktail hour there were presentations of prizes. Ann got low net and the prize was a Gleneagles scarf. Marc and I got pure wool belly button warmers for the Men Who Have Everything. In recognition of my driving abilities, Ann presented me with a very special gift of coasters with some of the great golf holes from various courses in' Scotland inscribed on them. This was very much appreciated. Had a wonderful dinner and a great time listening to Billy in the lounge.
Seventh Day Sept. 4, 1980 weather cloudy
We checked out of Gleneagles and headed for Edinburgh to bring Ann and Marc to get a plane back to London. We arrived at the airport about 11:30 and said sad good-byes. We had spent four wonderful days with these fine people and would not forget these memorable days. We now headed for Greywalls at Gullane. Arrived at about 12:45 and had a starting time at 1:30. We had to go before a tough old retired Royal Navy Captain who was secretary of Muirfield Golf Club - the official name is The Edinburgh Co. Association of Golfers Ltd., or something like that.
Mr. Hannock charmed the grouchy old secretary (retired Captain Royal Navy), and we were ok'd to play. On the way out of the secretary's office some member golfers were coming into the club, and Marsh said to one of them, "Well, I suppose you brought the course to it's knees?" The man replied, "Let's just say it was a mutual genuflection."
Time was tight, and we had no time for lunch. Out we went to play the great and famous course - Murifield. In my opinion, it is truly a great course, but did not have the beauty of some of the other courses we played. Marsh played this tough course like a pro.
Greywalls, the place where we had reservations to stay, is adjacent to the golf course and a very charming facility. Our rooms faced the gardens. Had a very delightful dinner and went to the parlor to read in front of a coal-burning fireplace. There were two sofas at right angles to the fireplace, and a couple were opposite us. The lady was saying to her husband that one of their friends was contemplating buying a horse farm in Saratoga Springs. I had all I could do to hold myself back from getting into the conversation. Greywalls afforded us a good night's rest.
Eighth Day - Sept. 5, 1980 - Rain in a.m. and cloudy in p.m.
We left Greywalls at about 9:30, destination unknown, except we wanted to get a place near the airport so as to be handy to pick up Liz at 7 p.m. at Edinburgh Airport. However, before leaving Gullane, Marsh had to stop into a pro-shop where he purchased his now famous "Spider" putter - if his putters had numbers, who knows what number it would be. He also purchased a copper etching of the course at Muirfield which when we got home he gave it to me. By the way, on closer inspection at a later date, the "spider" was made in California.
When we got on the other side of Edinburgh, Marsh asked at a gas station where the nearest golf course was, and we were directed to the Dalmahoy Country Club, which was about four miles out of Edinburgh. The clubhouse turned out to be a converted castle; a very attractive place and had accommodations for staying at the club. Marsh asked if we could stay at the club and we were accepted. He advised the secretary that Liz was coming in at 7 p.m. and that we would want dinner at about 8.
The secretary said no problem and that he would put them in the Douglas Suite. What a set of rooms they turned out to be - two tower rooms and a master bedroom. The bed had draw drapes on it; I still don't know what that was for. I was assigned to the Lord Adberdrous Room, which faced on the golf course. Old Lord Adberdrous knew-how to pick 'em.
The rooms were not ready but would be when we were finished playing golf. So out to the course, and it turned out to be very well kept and challenging. On almost every tee you faced the beautiful clubhouse (castle). After golf we went to our rooms, where I soaked in the large tub and took a little nap before going to the Edinburgh Airport to pick up Liz. Liz came in from Inverness on a little Piper Club plane at 7:00. We went directly to the Club where we had a delightful dinner. After dinner we sat in the parlor and talked about our separate experiences, then went to bed at about 10:30.
Ninth Day - Sept. 6, 1980 - Weather Absolutely Awful
We left Dalmahoy after breakfast for Turnberry and arrived at about 11:00. Checked in and got settled in our rooms. Marsh, Liz and I went to the Golf Club to have lunch. After lunch Marsh and I went out to face what turned out to be the strongest wind we ever played in. The wind must have been blowing at about 30 - 35 miles per hour with a light rain. Kevin who was our caddy, was fair. It was a true test of stamina; a great golf course, a 35 mile an hour wind, and rain. We both shot in the 90's. When we got into the clubhouse, we went to the pro shop, and Marsh asked the pro how the pros did in the last tournament played there and the pro told us that only two pros broke par - Nicklaus and Trevino who were one and two under par and that was in absolutely perfect weather. We both felt better, as we knew it had to be something other than us. Our dinners at Turnberry were delightful. During dinner a Piper in full regalia came through the dining rooms. Being Irish, I let it be known that the bagpipe is native to Ireland and not Scotland, as many people believe. Just a little plug for the Irish, not that it's such a beautiful instrument. Went into the lounge after dinner where there was a group of so-called musicians, as they could not carry Billy's clarinet case. So, we all went to get a good night's rest.
Tenth Day - Sept. 7, 1980 - Rain
After breakfast at Turnberry we start out for Prestwick, and Marsh suggested on the way that we all go to Saltcoats and get the picture of Christie's Park that I did not get the first day. This we did, and I'm thankful to Liz and Marsh for being so considerate, as these pictures would make Mr. Christie, Ruth's father, very happy. We got to the airport, returned the car, and were ready for our flight back home. THANKS MARSH !!!