by Saoirse Gallagher
My great uncle James Gallagher celebrated his 99th birthday on February 8.
I’ve always felt that calling him my great uncle was especially fitting, because of what an incredible man he truly is. From owning the first tractor in his parish, to farming from day one, to his natural gift for storytelling, his life is full of remarkable moments.
And while 99 is an age that might affect many people’s memory, that simply isn’t the case for him. He recounts his experiences so vividly and in such rich detail that you feel as though you were there yourself, living them alongside him. Because of this remarkable birthday, I interviewed him to recall some of his most memorable adventures to date—and he jumped at the opportunity.
James and his five brothers were very hard-working men. Every summer was spent in the bog fitting turf, which he recalls gave him “a lovely colour”.
He remembers the awful feeling of finishing one long row of turf, only to look up and see another dreaded row waiting for him. That was the moment when the itchy midges, overwhelming hunger and thirst would set in.
“The thing about the bog was that there was little point in going on your own—it was always a team effort and many hands make light work,” was his encouraging quote. There were groups of 10, everyone selected to different roles.
When I asked him what the best thing about working in the bog was, he didn’t hesitate: “The road back out of it.”
Another thing about the bog is that once you’re home and take relief in the fact your day’s work is over, you’d think that the suffering is over, until you wake up the next morning with a backache and your legs all stiffened up, and unfortunately for James instead of being able to rest the next day, he’d have to just get on with the next big task.
James takes great pride in having owned the first tractor in Glenswilly. It was the talk of the parish, and during the winter months it was often taken to Mass because of its stability on icy roads. He said how nowadays going to Mass in a tractor would be frowned upon but back then it was getting there that mattered never minding the journey. He remembers how his brother Pat, 13 years younger than him, was in awe of the tractor and would do anything for a spin in it. James kept it for 10 years and, during that time, gladly lent a helping hand to many of his neighbours.
He didn’t mind school and loved learning. He believes the summer holidays were — and still are — far too long, though that certainly wasn’t the case for his brother Denis (my grandad). Denis earned the nickname “Denis the Menace” at school, a name that soon followed him outside the classroom among friends. James recalls one day Denis came home with a broken thumb after one particular teacher “put him in his place.” In those days, James said, very little warranted a trip to the doctor — you were simply expected to batter on.
QUITE A STIR
My granddad always loved horses and took great pride in caring for them well. James remembers a local farmer selling three horses, including one particularly beautiful mare. Denis was determined to have her, and when he did, it caused quite a stir among the locals — some were even jealous.
James fondly remembers the silly games they played growing up. His favourite involved wading knee-deep into a stream, trying to catch a fish with their bare hands before throwing it back in. On one occasion, one of his brothers fashioned a spear from a fallen branch, convinced it would improve his chances. Instead, when he thrust it down into the water, a large eel wriggled up the stick and startled them, leading them all to uncontrollably laughing.
James laughed when I asked about his brother Pat, saying that he was the “headcase of the family”, and that he misses him because growing up they shared a great bond, but now as Pat is in America, communication isn’t easy.
Football was commonly played, though they never quite knew all the rules — they simply did their best with what they knew. Gaelic football wasn’t as widespread then, and although James was — and still is fascinated by it, there was very little talk of hurling in those days.
When I asked James if there was anywhere he wished he had travelled in his youth, he said his tractor and full-time work on the farm kept him busy. Still, he was always drawn to the idea of Canada. When I asked why, he smiled and said Canadians were “smart-looking folk with smart chat.” His friends and co-workers used to call him a cowboy — partly because of his Glenswilly slang and partly because of his skill at lassoing cattle. He felt Canada was similar to Ireland, and that thought brought him comfort — it didn’t seem too far from home.
James also recalled his lively social life and the great nights of dancing in Letterkenny. He laughed as he said you could always tell the Letterkenny folk from the Glenswilly folk — the Letterkenny crowd had far superior dancing skills.
ADVISER
He advises everyone and especially to all my cousins, that no matter how much money you may get for a certain job, to always follow through with your passions and ambitions, because you can’t put a price tag on happiness and in his experience everything worked out just fine.
Although I am extremely grateful to have had the opportunity to interview James, it didn’t come without cost. He insisted on a treat, so I made sure to butter him up with a lovely cup of tea and a slice of his beautiful homemade birthday cake.
Glenswilly man, James Gallagher celebrated his 99th birthday surrounded by his family.
