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Humans of Dundalk, Dundalk (2026)

28/05/2026

No. 104

Part 3 of 3

"One of our neighbours in Belfry Avenue, Steven Woods, passed away at the start of the year and we all would have been very close. The night he was brought back home we did a guard of honour for him coming back into the street. We got to go into the house and say our goodbyes to him and it was all very sad. When we came out, one of our other neighbours invited a few of us back to her house for a few drinks in Steven's memory. We were telling stories and there were plenty of laughs and reminiscing. As the drinks kept flowing, somehow the subject of the Rose of Tralee came up and someone said, "Chloe, would you not go for the Louth Rose?" and with the few drinks in me, I said, "Do you know what, I will give it a go." The next morning, on the couch and hungover, I applied on my phone. I filled out the application form.

A week later I heard back from them and it went from there. I believe that being told to enter the Louth Rose the night Steven was brought home happened for a reason. Since I put my name forward, so much has changed. It has brought so much joy to all my neighbours, including Steven's family. It's been an incredibly tough time for the whole street since Steven passed away, but this has shown that something good can still come out of it.

On the day of the selection in the Carrickdale, I had his memory card in my car and I put it beside my car radio and played the Elbow song, "One Day Like This", that was his song. When I came back in after being picked to be the Louth Rose, the memory card had moved to the other side of the radio. I really think he helped me that day. I thought it was lovely.

Going up to the selection, I didn't really mind if I was selected or not. My nana kept saying to me, "You have as good a chance as anyone." It had already helped bring so many people together in my street so it was a bonus when my name was called out. I had made some good friends with the other Roses, so I had already decided that I was going to Tralee regardless of who won to support them. I don't speak fluent Irish, I can't Irish dance, and I don't play the fiddle or anything like that, so I really didn't think I would get picked.

I work with St. John of Gods at the minute as a carer and help take care of four gentlemen and they are the best craic ever, I love them. One of them, Barry, is non-verbal so he speaks through Lámh, which is an Irish sign language.

On the night of the Louth Rose selection, my party piece was myself and Barry going up on stage and showing them a video we had prepared. It was of me and him doing the Lámh signs, but I picked funny ones like "beer" and stuff like that. It seemed to go down well and Barry was the star of the show. I would love to do something like that in Tralee, but I'm not sure yet, I'm just waiting to hear back if they will allow us to show it.

Either way Barry and the other three men we look after, and all the staff, are coming down to Tralee. In fact everyone I know is coming down, at the last count there are 150 heading to Tralee! As soon as I was selected, we rang up every hotel and Airbnb and got booked in, so it's going to be some craic.

I'll be the Louth Rose now for the next two years, as Louth only takes part in the Rose of Tralee every second year. I think it's been such a positive thing so far. Even for Dundalk itself, it's a big deal, there hasn't been a Louth Rose from the town in over ten years.

Things have changed since I was chosen, but I'm trying to just act as normal. I still go to my work and I still come into town with my Nannies. I worked in Conlon's Deli part-time for seven years, so a lot of people would know me from there. Now, even when I'm walking through the town, people are shouting out the car windows at me, wishing me good luck.

When I was selected, it brought back a memory of my great-nanny, Molly. She raised twelve kids and raised them all herself. My last memory of her was when I went up to visit her on my Communion day, and she said to me, "It's all my own work." When I was selected as the Louth Rose, the very first thing my grandad, Billy, said to me was, "If Nanny Molly was here, she'd be saying, 'It's all your own work.'

I don't think I'll be nervous on the night. I'll just be myself, that's all I can do, really. It’s on the 17th and 18th of August, and Louth has never actually won the Rose of Tralee before.

So make sure to tune in and shout us all on, and hopefully, we can bring the Rose of Tralee title back to Dundalk for the very first time!

Cmon the town!"

Chloe Moran

27/05/2026

No. 104

Part 2 of 3

"Because of Covid, we couldn't sit our Leaving Cert, and I felt completely robbed of that. I had studied in Dundalk Study Academy nearly every night from first year right up to sixth year, staying until eight in the evening, so I felt I was ready.

Instead, we were told we would be getting predicted grades. When the results came back, I did well and got over 500 points. I still think to this day that if I'd had the chance to sit my exams, I would have got the points I needed, but sure, we will never know.

I then went up north to Queen's University in Belfast to study Biomedical Science. I was only 16 when I moved up and thought I would just take it all in my stride, there was no big deal.

Our house at home is always full and there is always something going on, so I thought I'd be happy to get away and get some peace and quiet. My nana and my Dad dropped me up to Belfast and got me settled in, and I thought to myself, this is great.

They left to go home and all of a sudden I realised I was all on my own in a place I knew nothing about. They were only gone 10 mins and I was calling home crying down the phone. I all of a sudden felt so lonely. I was only 16 and thought I was the big one, but the truth was I was so comfortable with my family at home that I missed it so much. It was like a part of me was missing and I was in no way prepared for that.

For the next few years in Belfast that never went away, I really struggled living away from home. When I walk around Dundalk somebody will always stop and talk to you, whereas in Belfast I felt like I was a shadow and invisible. I would come home at the weekends, but on the Sunday night going back up on the train I would cry my eyes out all the way. I wouldn't really consider myself a crier, but I missed home so much and couldn't handle being on my own.

I did 3 years and was 19 when I qualified from Queens and there was the chance to stay up there and work, but I knew I wasn't going to be happy so I came back home to Dundalk and my family. I finished in Belfast in June and as soon as I came home I put my name down for General Nursing in DKIT for September.

My mam is a nurse, and I’ve always liked helping people. I’m a very chatty person and need that human connection. I suppose if I had stayed in Belfast and got a job in what I’d originally studied for, it would have been a bit too serious and not as much fun.

Now, I’m in my final year in nursing at DKIT and I absolutely love it. It’s exactly what I want to do with my life and it makes me genuinely happy.

But more importantly, I was home."

Chloe Moran

26/05/2026

No. 104

Part 1 of 3

"My name is Chloe and I have been selected as the Louth Rose this year.

I was born in Ashbrook and lived there until I was three, when we moved to Belfry Avenue, where we still live today. As the oldest of four, followed by my brothers Charlie, and Connor and Ciaran, who are Irish twins I am technically the one in charge! Belfry Avenue was a brand-new development when we first arrived and a load of young families moved into the estate at the same time. To this day, many of those original families are still our neighbours and we all remain incredibly close.

If anyone runs out of milk or butter, we’re always there for each other, which is nice because I think that kind of community is becoming pretty rare these days. People don’t seem to want to talk to each other as much anymore. If I won the lottery tomorrow morning, the first thing I’d do is buy a house in Belfry Avenue.

I went to the Friary Primary School, which was mixed up until first class, and then I moved on to the girls’ school after that. That was where I met my best friend, Jade. We had great craic there, we were little divils, but it was all good fun. After that I went to St Vincents and our class was the first iPad class they ever had and we had that up to third year. It was okay but to be honest I think we were nearly teaching the teachers how to use the iPads. I still was a bit old fashioned and much preferred writing stuff down but if I ever got bored in class I could always play a few games on the Ipad which was handy!

I loved St Vincents and I was good at school, especially science. Most of the teachers in St Vincents met us at our own level and treated us very well. Especially Mr Thompson who taught me english, even though I wasn't a big fan of the subject, he made it interesting. It was the start of 2020 and I was only a few months from doing my Leaving Cert. I had studied well and thought I had a good chance of getting the points I needed to do pharmacy in college.

Then in March, Covid arrived. I remember Mrs. Mathews, the principal, came over the intercom and told us that we had to pack up all our things and go home! We didn't have enough bags to take home all our books and notes; we had to get black bags from the cleaners to take everything home. We were told we would be back in two weeks, but we were soon to learn that wasn't the case. Our classes went online, which was tough and it stayed that way for the rest of the year. When school officially finished I found it very hard not being able to say goodbye to all of the teachers in person, because I got on so well with them. I remember crying in my room and being very upset about it all after waving goodbye to them via the laptop."

Chloe Moran

21/05/2026

No. 103

Part 3 of 3

"When we came back from our honeymoon, I stayed with my family in Dundalk but my husband, Gerald, moved back to Banbridge as we didn't have a house yet. I used to go up on the weekends and stay in his mother's house and he would do the same the other way around, until we eventually got a house in Banbridge and I left Dundalk and moved north..

It was during the Troubles and I suppose I didn't think much of it at the time. My parents had passed away by then; maybe if they were still about, they would have advised me not to go up, but it worked out okay. I'm still here now!

I settled very well in Banbridge and we had five children in seven years. Then after just ten years of marriage, Gerald suffered a brain hemorrhage. At the time, our youngest was only one year old and our eldest was just seven. It was a massive shock and a heavy burden to carry, but Gerald was a fighter and he survived for fifteen years after that.

Because of the hemorrhage, he had to stop working. The illness took a great toll on him; for a long time, he couldn't walk or talk and I had to dress him and put his shoes on every single day. But we didn't let that stop us from living. We decided to buy a caravan so we could still get away for breaks and we started going to different places on holiday as a family.

We went all over the country, but one of our favourite places for the kids was just down the road in Mosney and every summer we would try and get down there for a few days.

In the summer of 1996, we spent a few days there. When the break was over, we packed up and hit the road. It wasn't that long of a spin back home and because of Gerald's condition, I was driving. Gerald was in the back with the kids but had been complaining all morning that he hadn't been feeling well.

When we were just coming out of Drogheda, he took a bad turn. I pulled the car and caravan over near Monasterboice and got out. I called an ambulance for him and went back to his side, but by the time the ambulance arrived, he had sadly passed away. It was so sudden and even though it is thirty years ago now, the memory of that day stays with me.

I looked after him through it all and we made some wonderful memories along the way.

I stayed in Banbridge and raised my children and I liked it up there, The community really looked after me.

It wasn't easy but we made it work. I still have nieces and friends still in Dundalk and I come down regularly to visit them and I'm blessed that I still get to go on holidays all over the world with my daughter.

I am 82 years old now. Over the years, my health has given me plenty of battles, I broke my hip, broke my femur, had to get a new knee and I even fought cancer.

But no matter what life throws at me, I just keep bouncing back."

Partica Smylie (Conlon)

20/05/2026

No. 103

Part 2 of 3

"I went to Castletown Girls' School, where the Sisters of Mercy were very strict with us. Even on a Sunday, we had to go to 9:00am Mass in St. Nicholas' Church and two nuns would sit right behind us, watching every single move we made! After the girls' school, I went to the Tech for two weeks, but I didn't like it at all. So, I started working in the Textiles instead and I loved every minute there. The bosses, Philip Laurence and Mr. King used to hire a "Radio Train" in the summer and we would all go to Bangor, Galway and Portrush. We would take turns singing on the journey, they really were great trips.

At the weekends myself and my friends go up the town as a group of girls, but not to go to the shops, we would be up to look at the boys! We would pose the whole way up Castletown, all the way up to Park Street and back down the other side. It was like a catwalk!

Myself and one of my friends, Joan Brady, would work eight hours sewing in the Textiles, then cycle out to Blackrock and go for a swim in the outdoor swimming pool. We'd swim there for an hour, get out and get a bag of chips, then go into the skating hall for another hour before cycling back home. We were full of energy back then, now I can hardly walk!

I loved dancing and I loved the Adelphi Ballroom, I would never be out of it. I saw Roy Orbison there, The Dixie Rock, The Big Royal Showband, The Cadettes and Joe Dolan. It was open on a Tuesday night, a Saturday and a Sunday and I would always be the first one in the door.

It was there that I met my husband, Gerald, on the 10th of July 1966 when I was just 20 years old. He came over and asked me to dance and when that was over, he sent his friend over to dance with me. Then he came back over and asked me again and during that dance, he asked me to go for a mineral. We got talking to him and it turned out he was from Banbridge. Back then, a lot of people would come down from the North to go to the dances in Dundalk. There would be hundreds of them queuing up to get into the Adelphi from Lurgan, Portadown and Lisburn.

We got married in St. Patrick's in 1971 and we went to Dublin for a few days on our honeymoon."

Patrica Smylie (Conlon)

19/05/2026

No. 103

Part 1 of 3

"I was born and brought up at Number One Moira Terrace, facing the railway line on the Castletown Road. My mother was originally from Seatown and lived next door to what used to be Sexton’s Pub, while my father was originally from Line Terrace on Hill Street.

My father worked on the railway; in fact, it seemed that nearly all the men living in the six houses at Moira Terrace worked there as well. He used to get five free train passes a week and when I was older, my mother and I would often go to Dublin shopping whenever we could.

My mother stayed home and ran the house and I had three sisters, I was the baby of the family. Sadly, I’m the only one of us left now. My eldest sister Angela died at 42, Mary at 51 and Kathleen at 60, so I’m the only one still standing.

But we had a great time growing up in and around the railway bridge. The train going to Belfast would sometimes stop at the bridge on the Castletown Road because of the signals and some of the boys would run up alongside it, shouting to the passengers to throw down money or sweets. Quite often, they would and the boys would go away happy.

We would walk along the railway tracks and go swimming in the river. My uncle was a train driver, so every time we heard a train coming, I would hide in the ditch so he wouldn’t see me and tell my parents what I had been up to because I was allowed up there. There was a dip in the Castletown Road under the bridge and it would always flood. We used to call it our “private swimming pool.” There weren’t many cars on the road back then, but every now and then one would come along and get stuck in the water.

For some reason, the people in the cars thought the puddle wasn’t that bad and that their car would make it through. The local lads would be sitting waiting for the cars to get stuck and they’d go over and offer their services to help push the car out… for a few shillings, of course.

I remember going down to Quay Street Station on a Saturday morning to get the train that would take us out across the Castletown River, over the now-gone metal bridge, and out to Gyles' Quay. They were closed carriages, so all my neighbours from Moira Terrace with their kids would get into one. We would all squeeze up against the door to pretend the carriage was full so that we would have it all to ourselves!"

Patrica Smylie (Conlon)

14/05/2026

No. 102

Part 3 of 3

"I’m a big golf fan, even if I’m not exactly a pro at it. Back in early 2019, myself and a few friends had a golf trip to Portugal. We were set to head off on Saturday but on the previous Monday I was at work in the Deli.

It was twenty-five past two when I got a phone call from Briege asking if I could come home. I asked her what was wrong and she told me she’d been up in Dunnes Stores doing a bit of shopping. On the way back, she realised she couldn’t move her hand up to put on the indicator. I went home straight away. We were in a panic, so went up to Dr. Mishra. She called for an ambulance, which arrived very quickly and took us up to Drogheda. They took Briege straight in and over the next few hours, they ran a series of scans. From that day life has never been the same.

When the doctors came back to explain the results, they dropped it into the conversation that there was a "shadow." Straight away, my heart sank. I thought of cancer. From there, within a few days, Briege was sent to the Beaumont, where it was confirmed she had brain cancer. A Scottish doctor came in while I was there with Briege and the kids; he explained everything and told us they’d have to operate and see what could be done.

I’ll always remember him saying to me, "Don’t be looking this up or googling it." He told me he’d seen people last twelve or fourteen years. To be totally honest, I didn't look it up, though I think I might have been the only one in the family who didn't. If I had, I would have learned that most people only get twelve months. She went through her first round of chemotherapy, but it took so much out of her. After the second batch, it really knocked her and I remember her telling me she wasn't taking any more. She just said, "We’ll try and enjoy whatever time we have left. What will be, will be.

So that’s exactly what we did. We went to Brittany in France and traveled to numerous places around Ireland with the kids and she loved every minute of it.

Eventually, she was confined to a wheelchair, which meant we couldn't venture quite as far.We used to go out every Sunday for our dinner, but even then, she still had an incredible zest for life in her. She accepted the wheelchair for what it was and just tried to make the most of every day she had.

Eventually she went into the Louth County Hospital for respite. On Wednesday the 5ht of February 2020, we took our marriage vows again, which was a beautiful thing. There was a great crowd there for it and she was so happy, we both were. It felt as if she was getting married all over again and looking back, that ceremony felt like a great consolation to us both.

The following Tuesday, the palliative care nurses told her they could keep things going for a while longer, but Briege knew her own mind. She knew she was going and she said, "No."

She passed away at four o'clock on Thursday morning, the 13th of February 2020. She was just two weeks shy of the twelve months since we first got the news.

It was just before the Covid restrictions kicked in and her funeral was in the Redemporist. The church was packed to the doors and seeing that support from the town helped the family a great deal. It was a proper send-off. The timing was unbelievable; within five weeks, Briege’s mother passed away too, but by then the restrictions had kicked in. It was family only at that funeral, a completely different world from the one we’d been in just a month before.

Briege and I loved traveling; we went to so many places together and truly enjoyed seeing a bit of the world. Our plan was always to retire early and see as much of the globe as we possibly could together. We were so looking forward to that chapter of our lives, but it has all been taken away.

Adapting to life after your partner goes before her time is incredibly hard; it’s the strangest thing. I’ve noticed that as the years have passed, she’s been on my mind more and more. For a long time, I think I went into a bit of a "robot mode", just doing what I had to do to keep going. But that’s wearing off now and the loss is hitting me a bit harder these days.

If I have any advice for anyone reading this, it’s this: if you’re thinking of doing something, then do it. Don’t wait around for "down the road" or retirement. If you have the chance, take it now, because you never know what’s coming next.

A few days before she passed, she was still looking out for me. She told me to keep at the golf and the redemptorist choir and the very last thing she said to me was not to go getting too religious!

I think she knew me better than I knew myself; she was looking after me right until the end. She was my best friend, and I know I’ll never meet anyone like her again. I was just very, very lucky to have met her in the first place.

Who knows what is around the corner for any of us, but we will still be here making the sandwiches and rolls tomorrow in the Deli.

We have a picture of Briege right there behind the counter, keeping an eye on us all. I know she would be absolutely delighted that we have kept the place going and kept the craic alive. "

Gerry Farrell

13/05/2026

No. 102

Part 2 of 3

"Briege and I just went from strength to strength. We got married when we were both twenty-four, there was actually only a month’s age gap between us. We were wed in the Redeemer Church by Father O’Leary and we had the reception out in the Ballymascanlon. I actually came across the receipt for the wedding the other day and I had to laugh; the prices back then were a different world altogether.

We started our married life in Slieve Roe Crescent in Muirhevnamor and lived there for twenty years before eventually moving down to the Point Road. We had four kids together: Grace, Ciarán, Kevin and Jenny. My father, James, passed away in 2018, and my mother, Kathleen, passed away in 2025 at the age of 91. My son Kevin and his wife Michaela had their first child on the 16th of September last year and they named him James, meaning we still have a James Farrell in the family, which meant alot to me. We have been blessed with seven grandchildren in total.

In the late 90s, my brother Niall and I would head into the Shamrock Bar once a week for a couple of drinks. As it happened, my future son-in-law, Brian, was working behind the bar at the time, so we were always guaranteed a good pint.

After a few of those good pints, Niall would start on at me about opening a Deli beside Smyths Chemist, on the opposite side of the road from the Shamrock Bar. The premises had previously been Paddy Breen’s butchers shop and after it closed it lay idle for around 18 months. When we needed a lift home from the pub, my wife Briege would pull up in the car to collect us around half past ten. As soon as Niall saw the headlights, he would nudge me and say, ‘Here comes Mrs. Deli.’

And that was it, that’s where the name Mrs. Deli’s Kitchen came from.

In the summer of 1999 myself and Briege bit the bullet and we decided to give the Deli a go. I’ll never forget that first day; the nerves were something else. I opened the door that morning and by one o’clock, I was standing there thinking, "Why the hell did I take this chance?" I was all over the place and it took me a fair while to find any sort of rhythm. I think my very first customer was Peter from Dundalk Plumbing just behind us. He and the rest of the lads still come in to this day, which means a lot.

The business was a real eye-opener; there was so much more work involved than I ever imagined. I still get a bit of slagging even today, with people saying, "Sure, what are you doing only making a sandwich?" But they don't see the graft that goes on behind the scenes to keep the place running. Unknown to me at the time, taking over the shop would get me a new name, as going forward I would always be known as Gerry Deli.

Being so close to St. Vincent’s School when we first opened was a massive help. At lunchtime, they’d all be down to us, and that steady stream of support really kept us going in those early days.

After a few years, we bought a van for deliveries, and I thought to myself that this might actually work out. A fella I knew was looking after the accounts for me at the time, and after he’d had a proper look through the books, he told me it looked like it was going to be a success. He said, "You’ll never be a millionaire, but you’ll have enough to get by."

And he was right. It’s provided a good life, and you couldn't ask for much more than that. On the fifth of July this year, we’ll be open for twenty-seven years. I have two girls working with me now and the craic with them is just brilliant, I honestly think some people only come in for that alone! You could have ten people in the shop at the one time and they’ll all be standing there laughing, just listening to us slagging each other and giving out. It’s all part of the atmosphere and it’s what makes the long days worth it.

We never really changed the shop much since the day we took it over. It was painted green the first day we opened, and it’s still green today.

Even now, some of the girls who were students at St. Vincent’s twenty years ago come back into the shop with their own kids in tow. They always say the same thing, that it’s just the same as it was when they were in school. It’s a nice feeling, knowing that while other places in the town change, we have stayed exactly as they remember it."

Gerry Farrell

12/05/2026

No. 102

Part 1 of 3

"I was born five days before Louth won the All-Ireland, on the 17th of September, 1957. My father, James, would have been delighted because he was a big GAA fan, so it would have been a great week for him altogether.

My parents lived in number 117 Marian Park and that’s where I grew up. When I think back to my days growing up there, everything seemed to be so bright. Every day seemed to be sunny and we were always out playing. Come Christmas, we would all have a new football strip from Santa and we’d be down playing football in the corner. The younger fellas would play the older fellas every day and we would always try our best to beat them.

If we were ever sick, my mother would give us Mrs. Cullen’s Powder, which was made locally here in Dundalk. At the time, it was considered the equivalent of what paracetamol is today.

I attended De La Salle Primary School and it wasn’t long before I became involved in both the choir and the boys’ band. At the time, most of us either walked or cycled to school. Looking at things today, when so many children are driven to school, it feels quite different, surely more could go to school on their bikes, especially on nice days.

There was a youth club in Marian Park that we all used to attend, and it was there that I joined the Junior Red Cross. It was also where I really got to know a girl named Briege Ogle. Although we were neighbours, it wasn’t until we were both involved in the Junior Red Cross that we became much closer.

We were only about fifteen when we started dating. On my first birthday after we got together, my sixteenth, she bought me a Gilbert O’Sullivan LP. We clicked straight away and always got on very well together. It was a much more innocent time back then. I remember when Grease first came out; we went to see it at the cinema at the back of the Old Shopping Centre three times in the space of about two weeks.

By that stage, I was in the De La Salle secondary and had finished my Inter Cert. Then, in 1974, I was halfway through fifth year when I became quite ill and ended up in hospital for a good while. Once I’d recovered and finally got back to school, I was offered a job with Century Press in Park Street. I took it and that was the start of a long chapter; I ended up staying there for twenty-one years.

It was a different era for Dundalk then, with the town full of local industry and everyone knowing everyone in the workplace.

When my time there eventually came to an end, I moved on to McLoughlin Frozen Foods, where I worked for six years and thoroughly enjoyed the experience. During my time there, I also took on some driving work, which I particularly liked."

Gerry Farrell

07/05/2026

No. 101

Part 3 of 3

"I left the Harp and went to work for P.J. Carroll’s in their brand-new factory on the Dublin Road. Honestly, it was the best company I ever worked for. I was there from 1973 until I retired in 1996, I find it hard to believe that was thirty years ago now. So, from the Great Northern Railway to the Harp and finally to P.J. Carroll’s, I spent my life in the three companies truly associated with Dundalk.

The funny thing is, I never once drank or smoked, despite where I worked. I remember my father talking to me when I was only sixteen; he told me to keep away from them, that they were a “dirty habit” and “it’s a mug’s game.” That advice really stuck with me. I joined the Pioneers at sixteen and I’ve kept that promise ever since.

I was involved in a lot of societies and spent thirty years working in the schools. Back in the ’70s and ’80s, there was simply no money coming from the government. In 1973, the CBS school didn’t even have hot water. Myself and two other men put in a hot water system voluntarily, and we built a kitchen as well. We even installed the first electrical sockets in the classrooms. You just did what had to be done.

My life in Dundalk has always been tied to music. I joined the choir at the Redemptorists when I was just eight years old. I loved it, and we had a fantastic teacher, a priest named Father Eddie Jones. That love of music stayed with me and I went to all the Dundalk Musical Society performances over the years. It’s their 75th anniversary this year, and I’m proud to say I was there for their very first show in 1951.

The venue for that first show was the De La Salle Hall, because the Town Hall was out of action back then. It had burned down in 1947 during a film screening. Everyone smoked in cinemas in those days, and it was always suspected that a stray spark might have set the whole place alight. Even though there was insurance, the money was diverted to “more important” things in the town, so the Town Hall sat burned and idle for five long years.

I certainly enjoyed my life; I always enjoyed the company of older people, just sitting and listening to the stories they would tell. You’d learn more from them than you ever would from a book. I suppose I’m an old man myself now, with my own stories to pass on."

Arthur (Artie) Mc Manus

Humans of Dundalk

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