Fintra School Reunion

Con Doogan, the oldest surviving pupil of Fintra N.S. pictured with the youngest pupil, Isabella Prior

Fintra school, Killybegs had their first reunion at the weekend and the event was opened with a special concelebrated Mass, conducted by Rev. Fr. Seamus Gallagher, himself a past pupil of the school and Rev. Fr. Colm O’Gallachoir, P.P. Killybegs.
Dr. Donald Martin, a highly respected and admired historian, also a past pupil, mounted an exhibition of photographs and memorabilia for the reunion, for all to see.
Over the weekend several events took place, from a social evening in the Old Clock Tower, and a presentation of the “Pat Daniel’s Cunnigham” Memorial Cup, donated to the school by the Cunningham family to be used as a prize for pupils of exceptional ability at the school in years to come
Another past pupil, and Mayor of Killybegs, Noel Cunnigham, said of the event “It is just tremendous to meet up with so many old friends and pupils who are now scattered to the four corners of the globe. The photographic exhibit is just phenomenal and everything about this event has nostalgic memories for us all.”

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A journey of emotion by Anna Harvey

It would be understandable if the reader of this article should wonder why it has taken so long to undertake our intended journey. So let me try and explain.
Up until and during the last century, money and resources were in short supply for the majority of folks. For many our destination was the other side of the world. Parents worked miracles bringing up large and beautiful families, their priority being to raise their children the very best way that was available to them. Holidays and other luxuries were for the very few.
So it was that my brother and great character Paddy Keeney, Granhey, Killybegs, had one of his better ideas and asked if we realised that it was once again coming up to the Armistice Day commemorations. The reason for this annual reminder was that our uncle, Sergeant Bernard Keeney, 11966, 2nd Battalion Scots Guards was killed on 7th of April 1918, just months before the Armistice was signed on the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month, 1918. He is buried in the war grave section of a community cemetery near Arras in the Pas de Calais.
This time I resolved to do something about it. I contacted my nephew Michael Love. With the help of his wife Sharron, and my husband Shean, we got our thoughts rolling. Michael very kindly offered to drive us there and back (no small undertaking) if we could organise the remainder. I approached my brother Paddy (then in his eightieth year) and told him of our intention. On being asked if he was also willing to go, he replied “Ah, surely, if Lana is going” - Lana being his niece, his friend, his secretary and who has the patience of Job.
It was going to be a long drive for Paddy who is well known for his delicate disposition. He has many times claimed to the caring staff at the Community Hospital (where he helps as a volunteer) that owing to ‘his wee nervous stomach’ he could never ride in the hospital lift.
So it was that we set out on a cold October morning from Killybegs to Dublin on the start of our long journey to France. We disembarked from the ferry at Holyhead the next morning and, with Michael at the wheel, headed East and then South towards Hastings in East Sussex. We were to stay with our sister, Sheelagh Cowell, who lives in Hastings, as she also was to journey with us.
After the usual family welcomes and news of home we all rested well and long before dawn were once again ready for the next part of our trip.
We crossed underneath the Channel by Eurostar, the boredom of the tunnel enriched by Paddy’s continuous rendering of his favourite ballad. “Forty Shades of Green”. We arrived in Calais on a beautiful sunny morning. It being a Sunday, the roads around Calais were very quiet, and on we went to Arras. As if by some miracle, Michael drove us exactly to a lovely place called Bailleulmont Communal Cemetery, adjacent to the village of Bailleulmont. So much for the new generation and this wonderful thing they call a computer.
It would be almost impossible to describe our feelings or thoughts on arrival, we sat so quietly looking at the magnificence of this resting place, the final home of so many, many brave young men who had lost their lives in the Great War. The graves, immaculate, could be likened to a green carpet interspersed with beautiful miniature shrubs. One is almost overwhelmed by emotion as you contemplate the youthfulness of the resting soldiers remembered on the headstones, the different nationalities.
We took photographs and made pencil drawings before noticing that Paddy seemed to have gone missing. He was sat all alone on a green mound. We asked him if he was well. He just replied “I was thinking of an old song, the title being “Willie McBride”. He had a tear in his eye. Didn’t we all?
We then started back, a journey of 670 miles each way, no small undertaking for an octogenarian with a nervous stomach! We had plenty of time on the return trip to reflect on the four million soldiers who lost their lives on the Western Front alone.
We had a two day stopover in Hastings because we wished to visit the world famous Pavilion at Brighton. The carpet in the music room was woven at Killybegs, and shortly after it was fitted, the great storm arose in 1987. There was a lot of damage and the roof turret above the music room came down through the roof and straight through the carpet, which was sent back to Killybegs for repair. The literally invisible repairs were carried out by Lana and her mother Molly, a great credit to the two of them. They even have on display at the Pavilion - a photograph showing Molly (now sadly deceased) working on the repairs.
The next day we started home and it was with a heavy heart that we sped along to reach, eventually, our own beds in Killybegs which were a marvellous cure after the endless miles. Had Paddy enjoyed himself? Yes, very much. How was his nervous stomach?
“Oh, so, so!”

Sergeant Bernard Keeney