Once upon a time, even thought it was not so long ago, it seems like a lifetime. In the days when Corncrakes were a common as hares, and the hum of the trasher could be heard in every village, and the tinker (now known as the traveller), got a cup of tea in every house. Our mother would kiss us on the cheek and send us on our way across the well-worn paths and gravel roads towards the familiar red door, as we entered the porch to hang up our duffels. We could observe the flames coming from the fireplace which was prepared by our teacher to warm up the classroom, but more importantly herself, 'em em'!!

We would place our bottles on the hearth to be 'incubated' for refreshments later in the day, and if one was not careful the first swig could be fatal, as the neck of the bottle always absorbed the heat faster than the rest. Perhaps 'incubation' was too fine a word!!

We had several teachers, but I remember one in particular. She must have thought that most of us were going to take up a career in pottery making, as 'maria' was the order of the day. As she held the pages of the book open with one hand and rubbed the heat of the fire on to her lower leg with the other, we would mould small fat men and horses that looked more like giraffes looking at one another half bamboozled.

We would sit two to a desk with dry inkwells and pencils that had seen better days, and well used rubbers!! When 'SOS' was called, we rushed outside to take up whatever game or intentions we had the previous day. The sun sprinkled through the tall trees which surrounded the playground. We had our bullies too, as they would show their superiority, especially over the smaller boys, they usually left the girls to themselves!!

The toilet system was, I suppose modern enough, considering it was in days of old when men were bold ...... However, one could tell with as little observation as possible, the diet of most households, and the small river that ran alongside our playground, was very useful to our hygiene.

Most of us would have very fond memories of our late Fr. Fitzsimons (R.I.P.), who was a frequent visitor, and a kind and gentle soul. Whenever he called he would hold a raffle, and usually it was the less fortunate who would win the fifty pence.

I think that those of us who were fortunate enough to have attended Prizon school, took with us good memories and values and are better people for it to day.

Slán