It Occurs To Me: A river runs through it

It’s twelve years since Sean O’Beirne and Patrick McBrearty took me on a tour of the Leitir Corn Mill Conservation and Restoration Project in Kilcar.

They were at pains to stress that the amazing development was a credit to the committee and renowned architect Duncan McLaren.

In 2014, the formation of a local heritage committee marked the beginning of a new chapter for Leitir Corn Mill, turning it into a working heritage water mill.

This project has not only preserved the mill's intricate machinery and traditional techniques but also revitalised its role in the community.

I observed at the time that few of Ireland’s traditional corn mills had survived to the present day with this level of preservation and intactness.

The site is an important part of the 19th century industrial heritage of not only Kilcar, but of the county and entire northwest region.

The grain milled was grown throughout this locality and served to provide for some of the food needs of Kilcar, Carrick and Killybegs.

It also catered for the corn crops of small farmers in Glencolmcille, Killybegs and Teelin.

Self-sufficient farmers brought their cut corn to the mill.

There has been a lot happening at Leitir Corn Mill over the past few years, with steady progress being made to restore and develop this important part of their local heritage.

Much of that progress is down to the commitment of the Board of Directors, who have given their time and energy to bringing the mill back to life.

Their work has involved everything from planning and fundraising to overseeing restoration projects, all with the aim of preserving the mill for future generations.

As the project continues to move forward, Sinéad Gallagher has recently been appointed as manager.

She joins the team at an exciting stage and will support the ongoing work of the board while helping to develop the mill as a place for both the local community and visitors.

Visitors are welcome and you can join Sinead and explore the mill, the miller’s house, the millrace, and millpond, complemented by scenic walks that illustrate the mill's operational history and its contribution to the region.

It’s beautifully situated on the Glenaddragh River and the restoration has been a real community effort, and while there is still work to do, the progress made so far is a credit to everyone involved.

I have a particular affection for the Glenaddragh River, as it literally ran across the road from my Gillespie cousins’ home.

Holidaying there as youngsters, we’d cross to the Drumnafinnagle side and play all manner of games, as the surrounding bushes and trees were perfect for cowboys and Indians.

The river ran into Kilcar where it merged with the Ballaghdoo at Largymore, across from St Cartha’s Well, and the latter then ran into the sea at Towney, near the GAA grounds.

Wonderful memories and I can’t wait to revisit the Mill and environs.

Choo-choo and tut tut!

One of my most vivid memories is getting on board a blue coach with my mother as we boarded the train from Carrigans to Derry. I was only three years old but it has stayed with me since.

Years later, Mum told me how they took their first born on the train to show my grandparents in Bogagh.

Obviously, I have no memory of that journey, but as I travel through the Barnes Gap and look up left at the old railway track, I imagine how excited they must have been.

Eventually, they would have reached Killybegs and grandad had organised a taxi for the remainder of the journey.

Sadly, the BBC (the Bogagh Bus Company) was no more. BBC founder John O’Donnell, who was married to my grandaunt Mary, had passed away ten years before my birth.

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I was reminded of trains and transport last week as I watched a rather bizarre interview on Virgin Media TV.

Alan Hughes was incredulous when Downings man Eric Roberts told him that there was no train station in Donegal.

Such was his incredulity that he expressed disbelief a few times!

Well Alan, may I suggest a wee bit of research might have helped, but when Eric then advised him that the trains had ceased running in the 1980s, I nearly threw my toast at the telly.

He was thirty years out, and much as I like Eric as a presenter, research equally applies to him.

No, we don’t have trains and more’s the pity, with the constant gridlock in Letterkenny and serious public transport problems elsewhere.

‘Tight’ times?

When Sinn Féin’s Conor Murphy said that the wheels could come off Stormont without reform, Gavin Robinson of the DUP responded by saying if Murphy thinks the wheels are coming off, “he should tighten his nuts!” Ouch!

Integrity, conviction and commitment

President John F Kennedy was assassinated on November 22, 1963.

As a result other famous deaths that day were somewhat overlooked: CS Lewis of Chronicles of Narnia fame; Aldous Huxley, philosopher and author of Brave New World; and of course, Glenties own Patrick MacGill, who died aged 73 and is buried in Fall River, Massachusetts. I had the privilege of visiting his grave some 35 years ago.

As his grand-daughter Jo McGowan reflected in 2024: “My grandfather died on the same day as JFK. I was five. Events on television and in our own house merged in my mind until I couldn’t tell the difference between the president who caused the grownups to huddle anxiously in front of the television and the grandfather I had met only once.

“I stood with my kindergarten classmates praying for the soul of the president and came home to find my mother packing for Florida—leaving us for the first time in our lives—and I believed her tears were as much for Mr Kennedy as my teacher’s had been.

“Over sixty years later, having watched politicians come and go, I wonder whose influence is more lasting: a president’s or a poet’s? My grandfather, Patrick MacGill, wrote fiction, memoir, poetry, and autobiography.

“A literary festival in his honor is held every year in Glenties, the tiny Irish village where he was born, and this year, thirteen of his descendants—grandchildren, great-grandchildren and great-greats—gathered there to attend the forty-fourth edition of the Patrick MacGill Summer School.

I was one of them, and it was perhaps the best conference I have ever attended.

“But while the speakers were outstanding, what set this conference apart from most I have attended was the audience. Well-informed and highly articulate, they participated without posturing or grandstanding.

“ As an expatriate American, hearing views on the upcoming U.S. elections was particularly fascinating.

At the pub on the last night, a man who had been attending for the past twelve years told me it was the only gathering he knew of where the values Patrick MacGill stood for—integrity, conviction, and commitment to social justice—were honestly debated, analyzed, and learned from.”

Spike and TV

The village in Spike Milligan’s 1963 classic, Puckoon, was inspired by Pettigo. I re-read it a few years ago and it has aged well…hilarious stuff.

Before he died, Spike declared: “Television is the box that’s slowly killing the imagination. People used to sit around and tell stories, invent things, use their minds.

“Now they just sit there like vegetables. Staring at other people’s stories. If Shakespeare were alive today, he’d be writing stories about a man trapped in a washing machine, because that’s the level we’ve sunk to.”

I can imagine what he’d say about smart phones and social media.