Galway Advertiser 1995/1995_05_18/GA_18051995_E1_019.pdf 

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G A L W A Y

Building "The Tech"
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t is my melancholy task this week to pronounce the awful and solemn word of departure on one who has become as familiar to me in my regular sojourn in that friendly and com modious hostelry known throughout this town, and indeed throughout the world, as Garavans as the fine, dark pints he draws but....alas! will draw no more. I refer, as the members of that exclusive confraternity into which I boast to say I have been received as at least an honorary companion, to the imminent departure of that noble puller of pints, the most Honourable Gerry Fitzgerald. Yes, it is true: He is leaving. Indeed, he will soon be gone, and if you forestall reading these few words of mine until after the coming weekend, he will not merely be going; he will be gone. Into his reasons for making this move, and taking this decision, we would not pre sume to delve. Suffice it to say that, while still a youngish man, the attractions of the wider world outside the clois tered environs of Garavans will inevitably exercise a greater and more insistent attraction than for more hoary heads such as my own or Nicholas's or Johnny's. (Paul may be considered as belong ing to a different category as he is, as everyone knows, an authentic Garavan, and so has an almost genetic association with the walls and floors, the tables and chairs, the pictures on the walls, not to mention the liquid contained in the bottles and dispensed from the taps, the sole of purpose for which the entire establishment may be said to exist - as the Angelic Doctor would put it, drink is the Final Cause of a public house. But I digress...) In any case, Gerry Fitzgerald is raising his sights to a broad er horizon. He is readying his lungs to inhale a larger and more spacious air. The soles of his feet itch; his toes tingle; the muscles in his leg:, twitch. Indeed, his nostrils snort and his eyes flash like those of one of that noble breed of animal I have often observed Gerry admiring on the television behind the bar as it makes its circular progress around a n the 20th of January, 1894, the first Technical Institute in Galway opened its doors at No. 8, Doniinick Street. The Institute began by offering evening classes in Carpentry, Building, Construction, Book keeping, Shorthand, Typing, Cookery and Needlepoint.

Goodbye-e-e. Don't Cry-v-v
green field in Newmarket or Cheltenham. He would, in short, be off! I have enjoyed many sensi ble conversations with him, passed occasional moments reflecting on either the pro found or mundane concerns of this whirling planet of ours. We have compared notes on various likes and dislikes and found a soothing and not unexpected harmony of opin ion. Just lately I have been marking with interest the fol licular progress of the revolu tionary and Lenin-like beard spreading across the lower portion of his facial anatomy. I have a very strong memory

hands extending to an impos sible distance....and he deflected it. Garavans went mad. Bliss was it in that pub to be alive, but to be Irish was very heav en! And - the point of retelling this little anecdote - it was a privilege to stand in Garavans, among those wor thy souls, and utter the magic words - 'Let's celebrate! Give us a pint!" - to Mr. Fitzgerald, who on that memorable occa sion was serving behind the bar. That Gerry will be missed goes without saying. He will be very difficult to replace. He has become as familiar to the

Bidding Gerry Farewell of being present in Garavans the late afternoon a few years back when Packie Bonnar made his incredible save in that penalty shoot-out during the last but one World Cup, an event the anticipation of which left many supporters' hearts strained and scarred. As the huge crowd of us fol lowed the succession of goalshots you could feel the ten sion literally beginning to affect the furniture scattered round the bar. The very walls looked like cracking under the strain. And as the opposition player prepared to kick the ball past Packie, strong men loudly cracked their knuckles to release some of the terrible and mounting anxiety. Finally, the shot was made and we leaned forward as one, as if in some occult fashion we could direct its progress at Packie's outstretched gloves. The scene is as famous as Pearse surrendering outside the General Post Office, or Charles J. Haughey striding away from one of his leader ship challenges; and like them, it has become part of the iconography of modern Ireland. Packie threw himself to the side, the full length of his body stretched out, his gloved many patrons of that estab lishment as the tables and chairs and benches. His leav ing creates an emptiness; his departure makes a gap in the subjective reality of the bar. Where he stood, there will be a nullity. His ghost will haunt the area behind the counter like some of the departed spir its he has dispensed in his decade of faithful service. But let us not give way to morbid reflections. Let us rather raise the glass and toast our departing brother of the bottle! Let us adapt the lines of the divine Milton as he describes the final scene of his mighty epic of Paradise Lost, where Adam and Eve turn their gaze to the unwritten page of the future: "Some natural tears we dropped, but wiped them soon; The world was all before him, where to choose His only task, and Providence his guide: Then, glass in hand, he drained it down and bid (In Latin) "Ave atque Vale, friends!" Then placed his foot upon the road led To brighter futures and adven tures new. Morgan O'Doherty

The Galway Vindicator of November 14th, 1894 remarked that "The Technical Institute is really such a success that the pub lic must feel very satisfied at the progress that is bring made..." "The success of the class es conducted at the Institute in Dominick Street is beyond queries..." Tuition fees ranged from five shillings for one subject to ten shillings for more than three subjects. The school flourished and rooms had to be leased in The Model School and Prospect Hill. For some reason subsequently occu pied by the Savoy but Mr. Blake, the owner, refused to sell. Eventually in 1938, the present post-primary school in Father Griffin Road was constructed. It was opened

by the Minister for Education, Mr. Tom Derig. Since that time, many of the facilities have been improved and upgraded. There are new computer rooms, a new woodwork room and metalwork room, new post-Leaving Cert courses such as Secretarial Studies, a Practice Firm and Electronic Technology. There are extensive night classes her also. At the moment eight new classes are being built , and the name has been changed to the Galway Technical Institute. For most Galwegians, it will simply be known as "The Teck". For myself, I would always associate it with John Mulhere, the art teacher, Charlie McCarrick, the woodwork teacher, and great hurling teams who always seemed to win the

Rosebowl. Todays genera tion of students are associ ated with very good envi ronmental projects such as tree planting in Fr. Burk Park, and for the wonderful G.T.I. Yearbook as pro duced by students Joe Kendellin, Martin McDonagh, John Conneely and Tommy Greany. Well done lads it is a very impressive school maga zine. To honour 100 years of Technical Education we have for you today a photo graph of the building of the foundations of the school. In the foreground you can see cement mixers and workers and ladders, in the background, some of the houses which were on Fr. Griffin Road at the time. On the far left, just out of pic ture was Keegan's, later Miss Heavey's, next door

was Sergeant O'Hanlon's house, later Madge Stewart's; Duignan's was the next house and then Hogans, later Wilson's. After the gap was Lally's, they opened up a toyshop every Summer. This would later be occupied by Mulkere's; next door was Lally's Grocery and the two buildings on the right were Caulfield's (later McCaffrey's) and Finally Garvery's drapery. The two houses in at the back were occupied by Jack Carroll and Willie Walsh. This photograph was taken by Mr. Tom Kennedy, who was Clerk of Works on the building. This is one of a series presented to the school by Mrs. McDonnell, Presentation Road to whom we all say a big thank you. T.K.

HIDDEN GALWAY

SERGEI