ADAIR SCHOOL ON OLIVER PLUNKETT STREET
Taken from "Adair through the Ages" (2004) by Heather Smith
"Adair School," on Barrack Hill was built in 1836 (twelve years after Rev.Adair died). A plaque on the wall commemorates the date. You'll find this schoolhouse on the Cork/Dublin road. Travel across the bridge towards Mitchelstown, and directly across the road from the church are two tall narrow gates: one leads into what used to be the teacher's house and the other leads into what used to be the second Adair school. From the front, it looks like a residential house with well-proportioned windows and a mini extension jutting out in the centre.
On the Ordnance Survey map of 1842 this building was referred to as "The Infant School". Since we know that the school in Ashe Quay was functioning at that time, it suggests that it was divided into a junior and senior level. The school on Ashe Quay presumably functioned as the senior school.
This was the situation when the Infant School on Barrack Hill was first opened. Unfortunately, little else is known about the school until 1900, except that, between 1882 and 1892, the teacher's residence was built at a cost of £250 and, sometime after 1890, the Fermoy Adair School moved up from Ashe Quay to Oliver Plunkett Hill (Barrack Hill) and the pupils were taught by Mr. and Mrs. Clarke. It would appear that Mr. Clarke was the only one who got paid!
In the 1920's, numbers decreased and Miss Gloster became the teacher. One of her past pupils, Miss Joan Daniels, attended Adair School in the 1930's. She recalls,
"We shared a desk with some one else…with inkwells. There were high maps on the wall - sort of oily things. There was a sign; "Thou shalt not steal" in beautiful script. I remember a fire for heating with a high protective thing around it. Miss had a high desk with long legs. We did writing compositions, maths, scripture, geography….the usual. We had the most horrible shaped calico knickers to sew - nothing nice and light. Miss Gloster, our teacher, was thin with a well cut head of hair. She was very nice but very business like. She was strict…...very zealous with the cane. She had to be. Billy Weymouth was there. She slashed him about the legs. I think it took more out of her than it took out of him. She was very cross…but she must have been a good teacher because one day I was about five and we were having lunch. Daddy brought the newspaper home and I suddenly realised that I could read it.Archdeacon Abbott used to visit. He was solid and benign with a white head of hair. He wore gaiters and he used to ask general questions. I was hopeless at maths. He asked me a sum. I heard them whispering the answer behind me and I answered up. When he asked me how I got the answer, I was stumped. The playground was always packed. There were heaps of Weymouths and Baylors….and the Corbans of course. Jessie Baylor was the same age as me. The terrible lavatories were outside. There was a little hut place that we used to go. A little weak girl with white hair and pink eyes used to be terrified to go to the lavatory because of the two goats outside. We used to be laughing. It was all very cruel, I suppose.Sometimes, our parents used to take us out of Adair School for a few months, and we used to have private tuition. Miss Daley taught us in the Victory Hotel - second last house, in a room in the bottom flat. Nashs, the bank manager's family went too.There were six children in our family and we had to go to school. There was an element of fear if you didn't do your homework and, if you disobeyed the teacher, you got a wallop at home. We just took it as a matter of course.
In the 1930's Miss Hoskin took over the reins. She married Mr. Noel Kilroy from the bank and of course was known to her pupils as Mrs. Kilroy. Rosalie Eagar's family came back from what was then Rhodesia and settled down to live in Ileclash House by the banks of the Blackwater. Rosalie was packed off to school in Adair. She remembers Mrs. Kilroy as a "pleasant, good looking woman who was good to me". I suppose she found Irish weather chilly after coming from the heat of Africa because she always sat nearest "one of those old fashioned stoves for heating". She recalls her class mates: Iris Huskins from a rambling old farmhouse near Kildorrery, Phyllis Rice who married a Bolster - the brother of Lina Bolster, the teacher, Karmel Brooks and Bobs Weymouth who is living in Dublin. One of her interesting memories is of listening to the coronation of King George V1 on radio in Adair House.
In 1940, Miss Lina Bolster became teacher. By this stage the ban on married teachers had come in and Lina had to relinquish her teaching career when she married Mr. Michael Ross in Ballyhooly.Miss Wolfe taught in Adair School from 1946 to 1949. She stayed in digs with Rosalie Eagar's mother. She recalls that the children in the school were well mannered ...that they had been well trained by her predecessor, Miss Bolster, to work by themselves. Everything was orderly, but there was lots of preparation because there were so many classes. The inspector, Mr.Lovett, lived on the other side of the town. He used "have to pass back the school to go to the railway" …and he used to call into the school and read the newspaper while he was waiting for the train!! She remembers different families going to the school: the Skuses, Logues, Childs, Shortens and Robinsons. They came on the transport from Kilavullen Mitchelstown direction. She particularly remembers Tom Sherlock …and his shock of red hair, coming to school the first day. She set him some work to do and asked him if he'd do that, and he replied, "I will so." Most of the children came from farming backgrounds. She taught all the subjects. For sewing the girls did samples - openings for shirts, hemming, running, etc. while the boys sewed on buttons. She recalls an incident when she had been given a large bag of sugar to make jam for the church sale. She had it stashed under a shelf in the school when there came a knock knock on the door. A messenger had arrived to collect the crystals for the social. For those who don't know, the socials were dances held in the school, and "the crystals" were a grainy substance put on the floor to make it slippery for dancing. Guess what Miss Wolfe passed to the gentleman? Apparently, there was consternation at the social when people's feet stuck to the floor. Miss Wolfe said not a word!
In 1949, an artistic teacher called Miss Dawson became teacher. She was succeeded by Miss Dunlea and in 1954, by Miss Ludgate, who married Mr. Jim Ryall and went to live in Canada for some years.
In 1955 Miss Hazel Moore became teacher, and for the first thirty two years of her career, she taught in Adair School on Oliver Plunkett Hill, until the school moved to Greenhill in 1977. In 1957 she married Robin Baylor, a local farmer. Though the bann was still in operation for a few months after she married, she continued teaching and she retained her position in Adair School for 45 years until she retired in the year 2000. In the following article she recalls her teaching experience as a young teacher.
The Way Things Were on Oliver Plunkett Hill
By Hazel Baylor
When I came to the school in June 1955 there were nineteen children on the roll. It had been a one-teacher school since the departure of the British military in 1922. Canon George Salter was rector of Fermoy, Kilworth and Castlelyons parishes and manager of the school. My predecessor, Miss Kathleen Ludgate, showed me the ropes and I settled into teaching.
Needless to state, things were very different in those days. Funds were low to non-existent and equipment sparse. There were large maps on the walls, looking like they had been there a very long time. A few charts completed the set-up and there was no library, except for some dull government publications, certainly not intended for pupils. However, this did not surprise me, as things were similar in my own time of primary school. One attractive piece of equipment was a brown electric clock with a clear face, which as I write, still graces the west wall, though no longer in working order. The wooden floor was comparatively new but generated a great deal of dust as we walked about. Damp tea-leaves were sprinkled on it before sweeping, in an effort to keep this from covering the furniture. I later discovered that the old floor has been purchased for the princely sum of ten shillings by a lady parishioner, who prudently built a hen-house from it herself.
The playground consisted of part-grass and part- gravel surface which became waterlogged in wet weather. It often took a feat of gymnastic nature to negotiate the puddles between the gate and the school door. However, in good weather, all was well. The grassed, area was much enjoyed and the comparison made in later years by a pupil who had moved to a school with a concreted yard was, "No more frolicking in the grass, Mrs. Baylor."
The school was heated by two electric storage heaters, which replaced the solid fuel stove still standing at the top of room. These were a real luxury as they obviated the necessity of lighting and stoking the stove. It was my responsibility to turn them on each Sunday in readiness for Monday morning, and once, in the dead of winter, I forgot. There was nothing for it but to light the stove. Kindling, wood and coal were procured and the stove lit. As the chimney was damp from lack of use, the classroom quickly filled with smoke and eyes smarted. However, by eleven o'clock, the smoke subsided and the classroom seemed cosier than ever. Incidentally, the final winter in that building, that of 1976-77, one heater gave up the ghost, after twenty or so years, and the gas heater was substituted. Fire precautions were somewhat lax and one day a little girl in a light flouncy dress caught fire. Fortunately, I was standing beside her and took quick action, of what nature I cannot remember exactly. It was a case of act first, think later, and the blaze was extinguished with no ill effects to the little girl, whatever about the dress. What amazes me in retrospect is that her mother, a German lady, took it all in her stride, with no recrimination.
While we never actually cooked in school in those days, food was much discussed and recipes exchanged. I still have two Christmas Cake recipes from that time, and one for sago pudding. One family was quite taken with my aunt's recipe for Salad cream! Despite all this culinary exchange, lunches remained simple, bread and butter and jam, perhaps cheese, with milk to drink. Similarly at school parties, sandwiches, cakes and tea to drink were the order of the day for many years.
The beginnings of a school library were set up by the County Council. We could choose from a list issued, or take their selection. All were reference books, and the Reader's Digest Atlas and my all time favourite, the Oxford Book of Wild Flowers, are still in the school, some thirty five years on.
The first change to the curriculum came in about 1957, when the ornate Gaelic letters were exchanged for English, so that pupils now learned one alphabet, instead of two. Subjects included Irish, English. arithmetic, history, geography. physical education, singing, religious education, needlework and nature study.
Needlework was high on the agenda for girls, and in many schools, boys also learned to knit. The run and fell seam, the French seam and button holes, heel of a sock and a narrowing for and grafting the toe of a sock were par for the course. When time allowed, a sewing machine was brought in and girls cut out and made themselves summer dresses. We went on historical outings to places locally connected with periods of the history programme, such as Carraig and Aifrinn (The Mass Rock) and Cregg Castle. Nature study was popular and the mother of a family staying in the area would bring her van and all piled into that and my Morris, and we ended up discovering a strange but edible fungus, which led to our being presented with a book on fungi by the author.
Religious education brings me to the annual Scripture examination, which was held in the church in the summer term. It was anticipated with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. The excitement of the school sports which followed, and the other emotion arising from the fact that teachers and schools were often judged by results achieved, but nobody has ever averred that Christians were produced by the expedient of learning everything by rote. Indeed, I well remember the examiner who apologised for having to award one little girl zero points (nought in those days), because she paraphrased Psalm eighty four in her own words, rather than repeat the obsolete language of the 1662 Book of Common Prayer. You see, I had tried to make everything intelligible. It is no wonder the powers that were decided to abolish the examination.
As far fewer children availed of second level education, all were expected to sit the Primary Certificate Examination at the end of sixth standard so that they would have something to show for their years at primary school. The subjects examined were English, Irish and Arithmetic. Teachers in general felt that it was detrimental to their broader education as other subjects tended to be neglected, especially in the final year. Indeed, children whose chances of passing were slight were quietly advised not to present themselves for examination in many cases.
Buntús Cainte (the basis of speech) was a programme of mainly spoken Irish introduced in the late 1960's. it was aided by pictures to be cut out and anchored to a brushed nylon-covered backround by attaching sandpaper to the backs. This was a novel idea and, in spite of much criticism from teachers, highly praised by all least one of my past pupils. A more sophisticated form, involving the use of a slide projector followed, but all eventually went out of use.
Decimal currency was introduced and was followed by the metric system of length, capacity and weight. Though many adults felt that it would all be very puzzling, children took to it readily. In fact, mathematics was greatly simplified as everything operated in tens. When one thinks back to the complicated tables involved with the imperial system of weights and measures, one wonders how young heads retained all the different figures involved, let alone used them in calculation.
The first new curriculum of 1977, explained in detail in two large volumes, was quite revolutionary. It was child-centred which stressed the importance of allowing pupils to discover facts, rather then telling them. Many felt that the baby was being thrown out with the bath-water and that the old methods were best. It was introduced to serve a community which was no longer static and supported the notion that education is not so much about knowing all the facts as knowing where to find them.
Summer holidays began well into the month of July and gradually crept backwards to the end of June. There were far more church holidays and these all meant days off school. However, bank holidays now seem to have increased in number and the balance is redressed.
A winter highlight was the Christmas party. All age groups, as well as past pupils and some parents, joined in. It was difficult to cater successfully for such a span of years, so round about 1965, the junior end of the school had theirs in the afternoon, leaving the evening free for the older children. If somebody had thought of this arrangement sooner, much stress and frustration would have been avoided. Perhaps someone did, and was too polite or hesitant to suggest it. Such was the way of things in those days. We played all the old singing games like The Farmer wants a Wife, Grand Old Duke of York, Nuts and May, and Round and Round the Valley. Others were Blind Man's Buff and its variation, Jacob and Ruth, How do you like your Neighbour? General Post, and no party would be complete without the square of jelly or a bar of chocolate which had to be devoured, little by little, using a knife and fork, by a succession of players who earned the privilege by throwing a six with a dice. Incidentally, this was also the occasion on which the scripture examination prizes were distributed; hymn books, prayer books, bibles and so on.
Another integral part of school life has always been the annual sports day. The year I joined the school, we were invited to East Grange, the home of Mrs Violet Daniels, for the first time. My memory of that day, and over forty after that, is of happy children running hither and thither and rolling down the banks on the manicured lawn between events. The occasion had all the hallmarks of an Edwardian tea party as refreshments were enjoyed under the trees, while parents were entertained in the dining-room. Incidentally, Mrs. Daniels' recipe for a successful children's party was plenty of lemonade and the run of the bathroom!! True, there were wet days, and ones when the rain just about held off, but these do not mar the recollection. To this day, Miss Joan Daniels hosts sports days, much to the delight of all, and we are indeed grateful to her for continuing the tradition.
Children took part in the Carol Service each year by reading all the lessons. Microphones had not become part of church apparatus in Fermoy, and voices needed to reach the back regions of the building. Practice for this event included reading while standing out in the school porch with the door closed. It was a praiseworthy achievement indeed, and one which delighted the congregation, when two six-and-a- half year-olds read their respective passages perfectly and audibly,with no amplification whatsoever, and no parents standing by their side.
One night, fire broke out in one of the houses a couple of doors down from the school. As our playground was the most convenient open space, furniture was moved in to it from the neighbouring houses. Very little work was done next day, as the more delicate items were stored in the classroom and fire-fighting operations proved more interesting than lessons. We even got honourable mention in the then Cork Examiner!
At one end of the classroom there was a stage and mice lived underneath. From time to time they came out after lunch-breaks to feast on dropped morsels. One day, a particularly tiny one was spied, sitting like a squirrel, eating from between his paws. I was severely reprimanded the following morning when he was discovered in a mousetrap.
When Fermoy Swimming Pool opened in the late 60's,Adair was the first to avail of it as part of the P.E. programme. Traffic was far less of a problem in those days and we just went off on our own, with no extra adults to chaperone us across the road or to assist the younger ones with dressing or undressing. The older ones helped with that. It was a far cry from the present system, with parents arriving at the school to give lifts on wet days, and again on the return journey, and the idea of a compulsory man in the boys' dressing room was unheard of , but we survived.
Our first annual outing took place in 1959. We joined with Glanmire school and visited the Faber Castell pencil factory, the Mitchelstown cheese factory and the Rock of Cashel. We have a photograph to prove it. The following year, Coras Iompair Éiréann, now Bus Éireann, initiated their school tours and we used their transport until we realised that procuring our own way of travelling was cheaper. We linked up with Grange school for many years and, later, with Kilmagner School. There was one glorious year when we joined a class from Presentation Convent for a trip, partly by train, ending at Salthill, Co.Galway. A few girls filled the socks and shoes of a parish curate accompanying them with sand. We considered this daring indeed, but he took it in good part.
Schools were used as parochial halls and Adair was no exception. During the winter months up to about 1960 a social was held every month. A youth club met there for a number of years too. Fundraising, in the form of jumble sales took place yearly, and once the Mother's Union ran a very successful fashion show, complete with ramp and models, which they opened to the public. The school was an election centre for many years too. This was a very popular idea with the pupils as it gave them an extra day's holiday.
This story cannot be written without mentioning the stalwart ladies who cleaned the school. Mrs. Lenihan from the Cork Road area of Fermoy was the first whom I remember. She was succeeded by Mrs. Louisa Forde, a parishioner, who had prieviously held the post in the 1940's in Miss Lina Bolster's time. Next came Mrs. Mary Granville, her niece, and she was followed by Mrs. Sally McCormack, a school parent. Most recent, and still doing it, is Mrs.Margaret O'Dwyer, a past parent. All of these ladies did, and do, a magnificent job and school life was, and is, much enhanced by their contribution.
Many schools had a teacher's residence, and I lived in ours. After I married and had my family, pupils would stay with us on visits, perhaps for a week at a time, during term-time. At one stage, everyone in the school had stayed. My daily help, Kathleen, fondly known to as "Ka-Ka, looked after everybody who became ill or injured, made them drinks, rendered first-aid, and even put them to bed when the need arose.
Towards the end of the 60's, we put on three pantomimes, "Snowhite", "Babes in the Wood" and "Little Red Riding Hood". Performances were open to the public and the scenery was specially painted for them. They were tailor-written for the school and costumes were very convincing thanks to the parents. Even the musical director of Fermoy Choral Society always booked tickets in advance.
Inspired by a teacher at my second level school who brought us on a visit to mainly places of industry, I arranged such trips to a local bakery, the clothing factory andthe pencil factory, among others. Some may remember being allowed to prepare little loaves for baking, to be collected later, and dolls clothes quickly stitched, and pencil samples. The baking experience has been enjoyed again and again and we are grateful to the family-run establishment for this.
Having greatly appreciated the film, "The Ten Commandments", earlier in life. I resolved that, if it came to the local cinema on Rathealy Road, we would go. The fact that there was no matinee performance didn’t deter us in the least, so off we went, parents and all, one evening. That outing ended with tea and sandwiches at my house. Perhaps it was a Friday!
After about a year of teaching, it was the custom to have a full days inspection so that one could earn ones "diploma". The divisional inspector, rather than the local man, was assigned to me. He was a lovely, fatherly man and came over to my house to partake of his sandwiches. We made a large pot of tea and discussed, among other things, some purchases which I had made at an auction and which he pronounced very good value. Incidentally, we got an excellent report, aided no doubt by a masterly rendering of the national anthem, sung with great variation and feeling.
An aspect of Adair School life which has been remarked upon by visitors continuously down the years is the way in which pupils care and look out for each other, and the fact that older children play with younger ones. This is indeed commendable and a great help to the teachers. Long may it continue.
Taken from "Adair through the Ages" (2004) by Heather Smith
"Adair School," on Barrack Hill was built in 1836 (twelve years after Rev.Adair died). A plaque on the wall commemorates the date. You'll find this schoolhouse on the Cork/Dublin road. Travel across the bridge towards Mitchelstown, and directly across the road from the church are two tall narrow gates: one leads into what used to be the teacher's house and the other leads into what used to be the second Adair school. From the front, it looks like a residential house with well-proportioned windows and a mini extension jutting out in the centre.
On the Ordnance Survey map of 1842 this building was referred to as "The Infant School". Since we know that the school in Ashe Quay was functioning at that time, it suggests that it was divided into a junior and senior level. The school on Ashe Quay presumably functioned as the senior school.
This was the situation when the Infant School on Barrack Hill was first opened. Unfortunately, little else is known about the school until 1900, except that, between 1882 and 1892, the teacher's residence was built at a cost of £250 and, sometime after 1890, the Fermoy Adair School moved up from Ashe Quay to Oliver Plunkett Hill (Barrack Hill) and the pupils were taught by Mr. and Mrs. Clarke. It would appear that Mr. Clarke was the only one who got paid!
In the 1920's, numbers decreased and Miss Gloster became the teacher. One of her past pupils, Miss Joan Daniels, attended Adair School in the 1930's. She recalls,
"We shared a desk with some one else…with inkwells. There were high maps on the wall - sort of oily things. There was a sign; "Thou shalt not steal" in beautiful script. I remember a fire for heating with a high protective thing around it. Miss had a high desk with long legs. We did writing compositions, maths, scripture, geography….the usual. We had the most horrible shaped calico knickers to sew - nothing nice and light. Miss Gloster, our teacher, was thin with a well cut head of hair. She was very nice but very business like. She was strict…...very zealous with the cane. She had to be. Billy Weymouth was there. She slashed him about the legs. I think it took more out of her than it took out of him. She was very cross…but she must have been a good teacher because one day I was about five and we were having lunch. Daddy brought the newspaper home and I suddenly realised that I could read it.Archdeacon Abbott used to visit. He was solid and benign with a white head of hair. He wore gaiters and he used to ask general questions. I was hopeless at maths. He asked me a sum. I heard them whispering the answer behind me and I answered up. When he asked me how I got the answer, I was stumped. The playground was always packed. There were heaps of Weymouths and Baylors….and the Corbans of course. Jessie Baylor was the same age as me. The terrible lavatories were outside. There was a little hut place that we used to go. A little weak girl with white hair and pink eyes used to be terrified to go to the lavatory because of the two goats outside. We used to be laughing. It was all very cruel, I suppose.Sometimes, our parents used to take us out of Adair School for a few months, and we used to have private tuition. Miss Daley taught us in the Victory Hotel - second last house, in a room in the bottom flat. Nashs, the bank manager's family went too.There were six children in our family and we had to go to school. There was an element of fear if you didn't do your homework and, if you disobeyed the teacher, you got a wallop at home. We just took it as a matter of course.
In the 1930's Miss Hoskin took over the reins. She married Mr. Noel Kilroy from the bank and of course was known to her pupils as Mrs. Kilroy. Rosalie Eagar's family came back from what was then Rhodesia and settled down to live in Ileclash House by the banks of the Blackwater. Rosalie was packed off to school in Adair. She remembers Mrs. Kilroy as a "pleasant, good looking woman who was good to me". I suppose she found Irish weather chilly after coming from the heat of Africa because she always sat nearest "one of those old fashioned stoves for heating". She recalls her class mates: Iris Huskins from a rambling old farmhouse near Kildorrery, Phyllis Rice who married a Bolster - the brother of Lina Bolster, the teacher, Karmel Brooks and Bobs Weymouth who is living in Dublin. One of her interesting memories is of listening to the coronation of King George V1 on radio in Adair House.
In 1940, Miss Lina Bolster became teacher. By this stage the ban on married teachers had come in and Lina had to relinquish her teaching career when she married Mr. Michael Ross in Ballyhooly.Miss Wolfe taught in Adair School from 1946 to 1949. She stayed in digs with Rosalie Eagar's mother. She recalls that the children in the school were well mannered ...that they had been well trained by her predecessor, Miss Bolster, to work by themselves. Everything was orderly, but there was lots of preparation because there were so many classes. The inspector, Mr.Lovett, lived on the other side of the town. He used "have to pass back the school to go to the railway" …and he used to call into the school and read the newspaper while he was waiting for the train!! She remembers different families going to the school: the Skuses, Logues, Childs, Shortens and Robinsons. They came on the transport from Kilavullen Mitchelstown direction. She particularly remembers Tom Sherlock …and his shock of red hair, coming to school the first day. She set him some work to do and asked him if he'd do that, and he replied, "I will so." Most of the children came from farming backgrounds. She taught all the subjects. For sewing the girls did samples - openings for shirts, hemming, running, etc. while the boys sewed on buttons. She recalls an incident when she had been given a large bag of sugar to make jam for the church sale. She had it stashed under a shelf in the school when there came a knock knock on the door. A messenger had arrived to collect the crystals for the social. For those who don't know, the socials were dances held in the school, and "the crystals" were a grainy substance put on the floor to make it slippery for dancing. Guess what Miss Wolfe passed to the gentleman? Apparently, there was consternation at the social when people's feet stuck to the floor. Miss Wolfe said not a word!
In 1949, an artistic teacher called Miss Dawson became teacher. She was succeeded by Miss Dunlea and in 1954, by Miss Ludgate, who married Mr. Jim Ryall and went to live in Canada for some years.
In 1955 Miss Hazel Moore became teacher, and for the first thirty two years of her career, she taught in Adair School on Oliver Plunkett Hill, until the school moved to Greenhill in 1977. In 1957 she married Robin Baylor, a local farmer. Though the bann was still in operation for a few months after she married, she continued teaching and she retained her position in Adair School for 45 years until she retired in the year 2000. In the following article she recalls her teaching experience as a young teacher.
The Way Things Were on Oliver Plunkett Hill
By Hazel Baylor
When I came to the school in June 1955 there were nineteen children on the roll. It had been a one-teacher school since the departure of the British military in 1922. Canon George Salter was rector of Fermoy, Kilworth and Castlelyons parishes and manager of the school. My predecessor, Miss Kathleen Ludgate, showed me the ropes and I settled into teaching.
Needless to state, things were very different in those days. Funds were low to non-existent and equipment sparse. There were large maps on the walls, looking like they had been there a very long time. A few charts completed the set-up and there was no library, except for some dull government publications, certainly not intended for pupils. However, this did not surprise me, as things were similar in my own time of primary school. One attractive piece of equipment was a brown electric clock with a clear face, which as I write, still graces the west wall, though no longer in working order. The wooden floor was comparatively new but generated a great deal of dust as we walked about. Damp tea-leaves were sprinkled on it before sweeping, in an effort to keep this from covering the furniture. I later discovered that the old floor has been purchased for the princely sum of ten shillings by a lady parishioner, who prudently built a hen-house from it herself.
The playground consisted of part-grass and part- gravel surface which became waterlogged in wet weather. It often took a feat of gymnastic nature to negotiate the puddles between the gate and the school door. However, in good weather, all was well. The grassed, area was much enjoyed and the comparison made in later years by a pupil who had moved to a school with a concreted yard was, "No more frolicking in the grass, Mrs. Baylor."
The school was heated by two electric storage heaters, which replaced the solid fuel stove still standing at the top of room. These were a real luxury as they obviated the necessity of lighting and stoking the stove. It was my responsibility to turn them on each Sunday in readiness for Monday morning, and once, in the dead of winter, I forgot. There was nothing for it but to light the stove. Kindling, wood and coal were procured and the stove lit. As the chimney was damp from lack of use, the classroom quickly filled with smoke and eyes smarted. However, by eleven o'clock, the smoke subsided and the classroom seemed cosier than ever. Incidentally, the final winter in that building, that of 1976-77, one heater gave up the ghost, after twenty or so years, and the gas heater was substituted. Fire precautions were somewhat lax and one day a little girl in a light flouncy dress caught fire. Fortunately, I was standing beside her and took quick action, of what nature I cannot remember exactly. It was a case of act first, think later, and the blaze was extinguished with no ill effects to the little girl, whatever about the dress. What amazes me in retrospect is that her mother, a German lady, took it all in her stride, with no recrimination.
While we never actually cooked in school in those days, food was much discussed and recipes exchanged. I still have two Christmas Cake recipes from that time, and one for sago pudding. One family was quite taken with my aunt's recipe for Salad cream! Despite all this culinary exchange, lunches remained simple, bread and butter and jam, perhaps cheese, with milk to drink. Similarly at school parties, sandwiches, cakes and tea to drink were the order of the day for many years.
The beginnings of a school library were set up by the County Council. We could choose from a list issued, or take their selection. All were reference books, and the Reader's Digest Atlas and my all time favourite, the Oxford Book of Wild Flowers, are still in the school, some thirty five years on.
The first change to the curriculum came in about 1957, when the ornate Gaelic letters were exchanged for English, so that pupils now learned one alphabet, instead of two. Subjects included Irish, English. arithmetic, history, geography. physical education, singing, religious education, needlework and nature study.
Needlework was high on the agenda for girls, and in many schools, boys also learned to knit. The run and fell seam, the French seam and button holes, heel of a sock and a narrowing for and grafting the toe of a sock were par for the course. When time allowed, a sewing machine was brought in and girls cut out and made themselves summer dresses. We went on historical outings to places locally connected with periods of the history programme, such as Carraig and Aifrinn (The Mass Rock) and Cregg Castle. Nature study was popular and the mother of a family staying in the area would bring her van and all piled into that and my Morris, and we ended up discovering a strange but edible fungus, which led to our being presented with a book on fungi by the author.
Religious education brings me to the annual Scripture examination, which was held in the church in the summer term. It was anticipated with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. The excitement of the school sports which followed, and the other emotion arising from the fact that teachers and schools were often judged by results achieved, but nobody has ever averred that Christians were produced by the expedient of learning everything by rote. Indeed, I well remember the examiner who apologised for having to award one little girl zero points (nought in those days), because she paraphrased Psalm eighty four in her own words, rather than repeat the obsolete language of the 1662 Book of Common Prayer. You see, I had tried to make everything intelligible. It is no wonder the powers that were decided to abolish the examination.
As far fewer children availed of second level education, all were expected to sit the Primary Certificate Examination at the end of sixth standard so that they would have something to show for their years at primary school. The subjects examined were English, Irish and Arithmetic. Teachers in general felt that it was detrimental to their broader education as other subjects tended to be neglected, especially in the final year. Indeed, children whose chances of passing were slight were quietly advised not to present themselves for examination in many cases.
Buntús Cainte (the basis of speech) was a programme of mainly spoken Irish introduced in the late 1960's. it was aided by pictures to be cut out and anchored to a brushed nylon-covered backround by attaching sandpaper to the backs. This was a novel idea and, in spite of much criticism from teachers, highly praised by all least one of my past pupils. A more sophisticated form, involving the use of a slide projector followed, but all eventually went out of use.
Decimal currency was introduced and was followed by the metric system of length, capacity and weight. Though many adults felt that it would all be very puzzling, children took to it readily. In fact, mathematics was greatly simplified as everything operated in tens. When one thinks back to the complicated tables involved with the imperial system of weights and measures, one wonders how young heads retained all the different figures involved, let alone used them in calculation.
The first new curriculum of 1977, explained in detail in two large volumes, was quite revolutionary. It was child-centred which stressed the importance of allowing pupils to discover facts, rather then telling them. Many felt that the baby was being thrown out with the bath-water and that the old methods were best. It was introduced to serve a community which was no longer static and supported the notion that education is not so much about knowing all the facts as knowing where to find them.
Summer holidays began well into the month of July and gradually crept backwards to the end of June. There were far more church holidays and these all meant days off school. However, bank holidays now seem to have increased in number and the balance is redressed.
A winter highlight was the Christmas party. All age groups, as well as past pupils and some parents, joined in. It was difficult to cater successfully for such a span of years, so round about 1965, the junior end of the school had theirs in the afternoon, leaving the evening free for the older children. If somebody had thought of this arrangement sooner, much stress and frustration would have been avoided. Perhaps someone did, and was too polite or hesitant to suggest it. Such was the way of things in those days. We played all the old singing games like The Farmer wants a Wife, Grand Old Duke of York, Nuts and May, and Round and Round the Valley. Others were Blind Man's Buff and its variation, Jacob and Ruth, How do you like your Neighbour? General Post, and no party would be complete without the square of jelly or a bar of chocolate which had to be devoured, little by little, using a knife and fork, by a succession of players who earned the privilege by throwing a six with a dice. Incidentally, this was also the occasion on which the scripture examination prizes were distributed; hymn books, prayer books, bibles and so on.
Another integral part of school life has always been the annual sports day. The year I joined the school, we were invited to East Grange, the home of Mrs Violet Daniels, for the first time. My memory of that day, and over forty after that, is of happy children running hither and thither and rolling down the banks on the manicured lawn between events. The occasion had all the hallmarks of an Edwardian tea party as refreshments were enjoyed under the trees, while parents were entertained in the dining-room. Incidentally, Mrs. Daniels' recipe for a successful children's party was plenty of lemonade and the run of the bathroom!! True, there were wet days, and ones when the rain just about held off, but these do not mar the recollection. To this day, Miss Joan Daniels hosts sports days, much to the delight of all, and we are indeed grateful to her for continuing the tradition.
Children took part in the Carol Service each year by reading all the lessons. Microphones had not become part of church apparatus in Fermoy, and voices needed to reach the back regions of the building. Practice for this event included reading while standing out in the school porch with the door closed. It was a praiseworthy achievement indeed, and one which delighted the congregation, when two six-and-a- half year-olds read their respective passages perfectly and audibly,with no amplification whatsoever, and no parents standing by their side.
One night, fire broke out in one of the houses a couple of doors down from the school. As our playground was the most convenient open space, furniture was moved in to it from the neighbouring houses. Very little work was done next day, as the more delicate items were stored in the classroom and fire-fighting operations proved more interesting than lessons. We even got honourable mention in the then Cork Examiner!
At one end of the classroom there was a stage and mice lived underneath. From time to time they came out after lunch-breaks to feast on dropped morsels. One day, a particularly tiny one was spied, sitting like a squirrel, eating from between his paws. I was severely reprimanded the following morning when he was discovered in a mousetrap.
When Fermoy Swimming Pool opened in the late 60's,Adair was the first to avail of it as part of the P.E. programme. Traffic was far less of a problem in those days and we just went off on our own, with no extra adults to chaperone us across the road or to assist the younger ones with dressing or undressing. The older ones helped with that. It was a far cry from the present system, with parents arriving at the school to give lifts on wet days, and again on the return journey, and the idea of a compulsory man in the boys' dressing room was unheard of , but we survived.
Our first annual outing took place in 1959. We joined with Glanmire school and visited the Faber Castell pencil factory, the Mitchelstown cheese factory and the Rock of Cashel. We have a photograph to prove it. The following year, Coras Iompair Éiréann, now Bus Éireann, initiated their school tours and we used their transport until we realised that procuring our own way of travelling was cheaper. We linked up with Grange school for many years and, later, with Kilmagner School. There was one glorious year when we joined a class from Presentation Convent for a trip, partly by train, ending at Salthill, Co.Galway. A few girls filled the socks and shoes of a parish curate accompanying them with sand. We considered this daring indeed, but he took it in good part.
Schools were used as parochial halls and Adair was no exception. During the winter months up to about 1960 a social was held every month. A youth club met there for a number of years too. Fundraising, in the form of jumble sales took place yearly, and once the Mother's Union ran a very successful fashion show, complete with ramp and models, which they opened to the public. The school was an election centre for many years too. This was a very popular idea with the pupils as it gave them an extra day's holiday.
This story cannot be written without mentioning the stalwart ladies who cleaned the school. Mrs. Lenihan from the Cork Road area of Fermoy was the first whom I remember. She was succeeded by Mrs. Louisa Forde, a parishioner, who had prieviously held the post in the 1940's in Miss Lina Bolster's time. Next came Mrs. Mary Granville, her niece, and she was followed by Mrs. Sally McCormack, a school parent. Most recent, and still doing it, is Mrs.Margaret O'Dwyer, a past parent. All of these ladies did, and do, a magnificent job and school life was, and is, much enhanced by their contribution.
Many schools had a teacher's residence, and I lived in ours. After I married and had my family, pupils would stay with us on visits, perhaps for a week at a time, during term-time. At one stage, everyone in the school had stayed. My daily help, Kathleen, fondly known to as "Ka-Ka, looked after everybody who became ill or injured, made them drinks, rendered first-aid, and even put them to bed when the need arose.
Towards the end of the 60's, we put on three pantomimes, "Snowhite", "Babes in the Wood" and "Little Red Riding Hood". Performances were open to the public and the scenery was specially painted for them. They were tailor-written for the school and costumes were very convincing thanks to the parents. Even the musical director of Fermoy Choral Society always booked tickets in advance.
Inspired by a teacher at my second level school who brought us on a visit to mainly places of industry, I arranged such trips to a local bakery, the clothing factory andthe pencil factory, among others. Some may remember being allowed to prepare little loaves for baking, to be collected later, and dolls clothes quickly stitched, and pencil samples. The baking experience has been enjoyed again and again and we are grateful to the family-run establishment for this.
Having greatly appreciated the film, "The Ten Commandments", earlier in life. I resolved that, if it came to the local cinema on Rathealy Road, we would go. The fact that there was no matinee performance didn’t deter us in the least, so off we went, parents and all, one evening. That outing ended with tea and sandwiches at my house. Perhaps it was a Friday!
After about a year of teaching, it was the custom to have a full days inspection so that one could earn ones "diploma". The divisional inspector, rather than the local man, was assigned to me. He was a lovely, fatherly man and came over to my house to partake of his sandwiches. We made a large pot of tea and discussed, among other things, some purchases which I had made at an auction and which he pronounced very good value. Incidentally, we got an excellent report, aided no doubt by a masterly rendering of the national anthem, sung with great variation and feeling.
An aspect of Adair School life which has been remarked upon by visitors continuously down the years is the way in which pupils care and look out for each other, and the fact that older children play with younger ones. This is indeed commendable and a great help to the teachers. Long may it continue.