Search Results for 'Tom Kenny'

Jimmy Cranny was born in Dublin in 1905. He was orphaned early in life, came to Galway when he was eight and it became his home from then on. He grew up to be a champion swimmer, a winner of the Prom Swim and a springboard diving champion of Connacht. He was a member of the Royal Lifesaving Society and became one of their first lifeguards. He later joined the Irish Red Cross.

When is a swimming pool not for swimming? When it is a multi-million euro renovation project to re-open an old tidal swimming spot in Salthill, obviously.

St. Joseph's Special School in Galway recently celebrated its 60th anniversary with a heart-warming event that brought together past and present students, staff, families, and neighbours. The festivities were made even more special, thanks to Tom Kenny’s wonderful overview of the school's history in the Galway Advertiser prior to the event. As guests arrived, they were greeted by two stilt walkers at the brightly decorated entrance and welcomed by staff, board of management members, and the school’s principal, Sarah McGinley.

I think it must have been in the year 1967, on a visit to O’Gorman’s Printing House which was an extension of the famous O’Gorman Bookshop, that I had a discussion with an urbane man whom I think must have been Ronnie O’Gorman’s uncle. Over the course of that visit, a discussion took place on whether there was room for a second newspaper in Galway.

You reach the summit of Diamond Hill, or somewhere similar along the many spectacular locations on Galway's stunning coastline, and what you see takes your breath away. You want to capture the beauty of this sight before your eyes, and you reach for your camera. But, no matter what angle you look from, or how many photos you take, you cannot do justice to the view before you. The camera lens is not wide enough, your eyes barely are, and you realise the scene cannot be adequately captured.

The great stories have always found their way down to those who appreciate them the most. The cave writings, the hewed and smoothened tablets, the leathery books that fill the most treasured libraries; the tiny lead-made print of the 18th and 19th century newspapers.

This game was not actually played until September 1924 when Galway faced Limerick in a ‘dour hour’s hurling’. “Physical strength, fitness and courage were the dominating factors. The play was strenuous if fitful and an exciting period followed the interval when Limerick made determined efforts to wipe off the arrears. Galway finished with great dash and were clearly superior on the day’s form.” These were the words of PD Mehigan who reported on the game for the Irish Times.

There is a cyclical nature to the life of a town or city that is fascinating to monitor from afar. When I say afar, I mean in terms of time. There is nothing like a dollop of wisdom, hindsight and context to bring meaning to any aspect of our lives that we may choose to revisit from time to time. Perhaps this is why I love local news, the humanity of it, the rawness, the pomp and the circumstance; the stories and events that are important because of their grandiosity; or their relevance because the stakes are so low.