Family and community means everything to Phyllis

Phyllis O’Mahoney, neé Hogan, is a ninety-five-year-old living in a cosy terraced house in Ard Fatima, Clonmel.
The back porch and garden leads to a spectacular sight of Slievenamon, a fitting backdrop as she reflects and recollects her memories.

Phyllis regards me from behind her copper-rimmed glasses. She is clearly active, healthy, full of life and full of energy. She may be hard of hearing but that doesn’t stop her from telling her stories.
Phyllis is very much a family-orientated woman. This is evident from the delicate memories, all placed in photo frames and ornaments dotted around the living room. Old reminders of both the happy times and tragic losses throughout her lifetime.
Right after the warm welcome and introductory small talk, she shows me around the house, aided by a wooden walking stick and assisted by her granddaughter Sandra.

SPECIAL AURA
There is a special aura about this place. A mysterious beauty. Upon seeing the old-style décor, one can’t help but think of the life she has lived and the town she has grown up in. It is fascinating and alluring.
Born on the November 5 1927, Phyllis was the youngest of eight siblings, one sister and six brothers. She was raised in Gravel Walk before moving to Rockfield, Glenconnor when she was just twelve months old.
Phyllis’ father Daniel died at a very young age due to tuberculosis and thus was raised for most of her childhood by her mother, Mary, who worked on her farm picking vegetables, which she sold at a market under the Main Guard.
“Whilst my mother was working, I would take care of my siblings because I was the only girl. My sister had left for England and taking care of the family was a woman's responsibility,” said Phyllis.
“We also had no electricity at all and you had to go to the water pump to fill up the kettle. There was a horse trough in Glenconnor where we washed our clothes in and we also had to cook on a range with coal. It was a lot. There was no such thing as public transport or cars and we had to walk everywhere. Some people would take a horse and cart going out of the town but I never did,” she added.

Despite these deprivations, Phyllis went to school until the age of sixteen and completed the then Inter Cert, passing all of her examinations. She did not go to college after that.
For many people, school, especially in the 1930s and 1940s, was fraught with bad memories and experiences. But Phyllis described them as “really enjoyable and not a problem for me.”

Phyliss was a member of St Mary’s Choral Society and she recalls how her brother Tom was a tenor singer for it and had a huge love and passion for singing.
“Tom had his own way of music. He used to record his own music on a Friday night after coming home from work. I remember how every year on Christmas morning he’d get up early and start singing at the church at 5.30am before mass at 6am for everyone coming into the church. He was a talent and he could’ve gone on to do great things in the world. Sadly, his wife died and he had to take care of his child. Later on, he had some of his manuscripts replicated,” said Phyllis.
Religion and faith were undeniably part of Irish culture and history, with Clonmel being no exception.
“We used to say the Rosary each and every night before going to bed and you had Mass on Sunday as always. We would have confessions after school and once a month, before going to bed, we had to wash our feet because Jesus washed the Disciples’ feet before the Last Supper,” said Phyllis.

IRISH LANGUAGE
Phyllis also recalls her love for the Irish language and how she used it a lot when she was young. It was engrained in her at a young age and she enjoyed speaking it with her friends. Whilst she has lost the ability to speak it, she maintains her unwavering pride in the language.
She married her first husband Thomas Houlihan in 1948 whilst in England, having moved there as a couple. He then worked at the mines whilst she was at the launderette. After some time away, Thomas left his job to live with Phyllis.
Phyllis said that she missed her husband whilst he was away, more than she missed Ireland.
After their first son was born, they decided to return to Clonmel in 1950.
After coming home, Thomas worked at the Bulmers factory, and the couple had four more children before Thomas’ sudden death in 1961 rocked her family.
“I was at my nephew’s wedding when he passed away. He had died of a blood clot whilst making tea and the only saving grace was that he had put the pot down before it happened. Otherwise, the kids could have been burned. The luck of God saved them,” she said.

A few years later, a neighbour introduced her to the man who would later become her second husband, Paddy O’Mahoney.
“Paddy was absolutely great and incredible as a husband and father,” Phyllis said.
The couple went on to have four children together: Brian, Adrian, Eoghan and Regina. Paddy took on her five other children as his own and raised all nine of them.
“He really was a family man and incredibly hard working and loyal to his children. He worked as a greensman at Hillview Sports Club and helped support the family that way,” she said.
Photos of the couple hang proudly on display in the living room cupboard in silver and brown frames adorned with golden-coloured corners.
Another photo commemorates her son Brian, who sadly passed away in February 2019. He was a well-known figure around town and worked at Roxy Records and Golden Discs. Brian was renowned for his musical knowledge.
Tragically, Phyllis would go on to lose three daughters – Deirdre, Helen, and Patricia, in the next three consecutive years in what was undoubtedly a horrific period in her life.

Phyllis said that the only solace during this hard time was the fact that they all went together and they were that close to each other throughout their lives.
Phyllis has had a lifelong passion and skill for knitting and sewing. She learned the trade whilst in school and used to knit for fabric shops. She made custom-made garments of all types from baby clothes to jumpers and cardigans. This art was something that she used to support herself and her family throughout the decades.
“I once even had an order for a custom-made coat for an air hostess from Japan which is one of my most memorable pieces.”
Phyllis recollected making a once-off jumper that was supposed to be on display and under spotlights for a shop but that someone came in and bought it. She said that it was funny because the owner never intended on selling it and that it was supposed to be a showpiece for the shop window. One-off creations never happened again, she concluded.
She still knits and shows me a white and pink baby cardigan, proof that you can never lose the things you are passionate about.

COMMUNITY
She has never lost her love for the community she has grown up in either.
In 2017, Phyllis joined other residents of Glenconnor who held a protest against the closing of a right of way passage, one which had been in use since 1925. Closed to facilitate the building of a house, residents were worried that it would not reopen again.

HILLY FIELD
As a child, Phyllis used the right of way to walk to the two shops that were in the area and visit friends and neighbours. This small inlet was also known down the years as the ‘Hilly Field’ where children played during the 1920s and 1930s.
“I used to go there with my friends and just sit down and read. I liked relaxing there and it was one of the most popular spots in the town. The young lads used to come up there, playing cowboys on the rocks. When it closed, we weren't happy, so we objected. And we won, which was the most important thing of all,” said Phyllis.
Every nook and cranny of her residence holds a piece of history, every ornament and item carries with it a special moment. To us, these objects are unimportant. To Phyllis, they are vital souvenirs and echoes of times gone by.
A small and cloudy wine glass will hold the last remaining drops of memories from her daughter’s wedding anniversary.
A tattered black and white photograph in her drawer will remind her of her first husband, her brother and their colleagues from the time they worked at the Bulmers factory
There is a radio on the table in the living room capable of playing CDs, records and tapes. A gift from her late son Brian, a few years before his death.

RELIGION
Pictures of Mary and Jesus decorate each wall, a constant reminder of the importance of religion for Phyllis.
The patterns on the floor and wallpaper are continuous and consistent, a metaphor for Phyllis’ easygoing and unwavering personality.
Family is the lifeblood of Phyllis. Her entire life has been built on the values of community and building close relationships with those around her. Even when grief strikes, the community she has built melds together and strengthens those bonds even closer.
It is the little things that make the bigger difference to a story. You don’t make a jigsaw puzzle in one piece, you do it with tiny fragments. The same context goes for understanding and appreciating the lives of the elderly in our community.
Coming out of the house, you are blessed with holy water. A sign of peace and goodwill and a prayer for a safe return home. Blessed not only with holy water but also with wisdom, knowledge and understanding of the lives and livelihoods of Ireland past and present.

A writer with an interest in photography

Elio Bonelli is studying journalism at TU Dublin and recently completed a year-long Erasmus exchange programme in Brussels, Belgium. Native of Rosegreen, Elders of Clonmel is his first collaborative writing project and he hopes to use this experience to enhance his writing skills and experience beyond the scope of local news.
Elio has a taste for photography and has contributed to some of the writers’ portraits in this book.