The Hogans of Glenart

My mother was brought up by two maiden aunts in Waterford, as her mother had died when she was a baby. She was an only girl among six brothers. My grand-father owned a commercial hotel and did not think it a good place for a little girl to be motherless. My mother went to school to the Sisters of Charity in Lady Lane (I think). Her headmistress was a Miss Pennyfeather (a Sister of Charity). This nun seemed to take a great interest in my mother and a deep and lasting friendship ensued. At about eighteen¹  my mother married and move to Dublin to live in Dufferrin Avenue. Miss Pennyfeather, now known as Sr Teresita, moved to Basin Lane Convent in Dublin. My mother visited her regularly. I can recall the parlour and the kindly nun who always produced a treat for us children from her deep pockets.

As our family grew, we were by now six children, my father looked for a larger house, and we came to live in Blackrock, Co Dublin. Our house was situated on Glenart Avenue between Carysfort Convent (Sisters of Mercy) where we went to school and Linden Convalescent Home (Sisters of Charity) where we attended mass in the convent chapel.

To our surprise Sr Teresita was moved to Linden Convent and my mother was delighted to be able to visit her more regularly. Looking back I suppose Sr Teresita was really a mother figure to my own mother. As my brothers made their First Communions they were trained as altar-servers in the convent. The priests from Blackrock College served as chaplains to the convent. My brothers served Fr John Charles McQueen, and had the distinction of being asked back to serve his mass when he was ordained bishop and later to be present, in Linden, for a special mass to mark his Golden Jubilee.

One January, when I was eight years old, we were not long back at school after our Christmas holidays, and what an exciting holiday it had been, just as the big festivities of Christmas were over we got the news that we had got a new baby brother called Donal. He was born at home on the feast of the Holy Innocents. The six of us set off to school well muffled up and with strict instructions to hold the younger ones by the hand, for it was very wild and windy, and we heard thunder rumbling in the distance.

The weather deteriorated and it got very dark. Each class was told to stay in their own class-room to eat their lunch. The head nun came around and told us that we were being sent home right away as the storm was getting worse. We were told that the little ones were ready and that we were to collect our own brothers and sisters and neighbours if they would ordinarily be collected. There was an air of joy around as we thought that the storm might last and that there would be no school the next day. However, we waited at the main door while our eldest sister, Una, picked up the younger ones. We were buffeted by the wind, the small ones were crying because the saw other children crying. The thunder was by now very loud and the lightening lit up the sky. We battled on. We could walk in the shadow of the convent wall almost all the way home and our house was in sight before we had to cross the road.

As we reached the point where we crossed the road we saw a fire engine outside our house. Gardai were walking about and a huge van was parked outside. We were terrified wondering what had happened. Had there been a fire in the house? Where were our mother and our precious baby brother and the two children who were still too young to go to school? We stood transfixed with terror until a Garda came down to meet us. He told us we could not go home but that instead we should make our way to Linden. He assured us that no one had been hurt and that we would find that everything was alright.

We wanted to ask so many questions but I suppose we were too upset and very much in awe of these official looking adults. On our way to Linden, which was only a few minutes walk away, we met a lady who asked us what had happened to our house. We said we didn't know. She said "turn around and look at it". We were shocked to see a big hole in the roof and a tall chimney stack missing. We started to run. An older sister, who loved a bit of drama, decided we should go to the big hall door in Linden like real visitors and ring the bell. This we did and hardly had the sound died down than the door was flung open by Mollie. She tried to hug us all together and said: "come on in, I'm going to put you in the parlour and I'll ring for Reverend Mother. Now there you are, Reverend Mother will be with you in a few minutes".

We were no strangers in Linden but we felt very strange in the parlour. We could not bring ourselves to sit down on the stiff chairs and sofa. Reverend Mother arrived and there were more hugs all round, she brought us down in the lift to the refectory and we were given a hot dinner. Reverend Mother told us that our mother was resting and that we could go up to see her soon but first we would be shown where we were going to sleep. We were given two small dormitories, one for the boys and one for the girls, and there were night clothes laid out for us. Our mother had a room beside ours it had two beds, a cradle and a cot.

At last we got to see our mother. She was, I suppose, suffering from shock and began to cry when we ale filed in. However, she explained that the chimney stack had been struck by lightning and had fallen in our living room. The drama had started when she was in the kitchen making cocoa and Lillie and the little ones had gone upstairs to make the beds. Suddenly she heard a great crash upstairs and was afraid that Lillie and the children might have been close to the scene of the devastation. Lillie called out "We are all o.k... We are in the bathroom". When my mother came out of the kitchen she was met by clouds of dust and dirt as the living-room door was open. When she looked into the living-room she was met by a scene of utter devastation -- two beds were suspended half-way between the floor and the ceiling; the dining table was smashed as a big chest of drawers had come through the ceiling, bed clothes were strewn over tables and chairs and a child's cot was lying in bits on the floor.

The gardener from Linden had seen the flash of lightning and heard the crash. He was not quite sure which house hat been hit but he ran into the convent and phoned the fire-brigade. As soon as the Reverend Mother realised what had happened sent a car down Glenart Avenue with a nurse on board who had instructions to bring my mother and the children back to Linden.

My father had been sent for. Luckily no gas pipes were broken so there was no fire or explosion. The firemen turned off the gas and water supply and quenched the fires in the range and the living room. Fortunately there was a good fire-guard which ensured that none of the bedclothes fell into the fire. The Gardai stayed around until my father had the opportunity to secure the house. When we arrived in Linden we had only the clothes we were wearing so the nuns gave us clothes as they were needed. No one said "I don't want to wear that", we were just all so glad to be safe and so well looked after.

We enjoyed our time in Linden, we spent nine or ten weeks there, I think it was just before St Patrick's Day by the time we got back to our house. No money could ever repay the nuns in Linden for their great kindness to us.

And to get back to Sr Teresita, or Mother Teresita as she became, in time she moved from Linden to St Mary's Blind Asylum (as it was called) in Merrion. We visited her there for many years and loved to play with the blind children. When she died, at a ripe old age, we felt that our mother lost a true friend whose friendship had lasted over sixty years.