Trains, planes and football games - the history of Castlebar Railway Station
by Noel Hoban
Castlebar Railway Station opened on December 16, 1862.
It was part of the greater plan by Lord Lucan, who was MP for Mayo at that time.
His primary reason for the development of the Athlone to Castlebar line was the transport of his vast herds of cattle, which graced the 60,000 acres of land he possessed.
For all his faults, he still provided a very important infra-structure that has served generations of Mayo people.
I was once asked on radio what I at-tributed people's fascination with trains and stations to, and the answer is simple.
Some of the happiest and most profound moments of sadness occur there, which I would equate with just one other establishment, and that is a church.
A Mr. Bowles was the first station master in Castlebar, and the late Joe Hamrock was the last, as in 1988, with a closure of the signal cabin, Castlebar was reduced to a halt, which I still feel was a monumental blunder for the county town.
FREIGHT
Everything you can possibly think of was carried by rail back in the glory years.
Cattle, cars, cement, manure, wheat and barley, televisions, Guinness and cigarettes, to name just a few.
Every week, a small wagon transporting gelignite for Roadstone would arrive on the loose-coupled goods train.
It became commonly known as The Banger Wagon.
Goods were loaded on lorries and delivered throughout the town. Castlebar was one of the few stations to process a Scammell, which had a peculiar cab with one wheel in the front and two in the back of the cab.
This cab pulled a long trailer and was operated in the early years by the late gentlemen Frank McDonald and Mike Gannon.
One funny incident I recall was when stationmaster Paddy Ryan admonished the lads over the use of the forklift, which he reckoned was the cause of the cement bags being burst.
However, the staff knew they were more than proficient on the use of the forklift, so they decided to lie in wait one morning.
The company had an overzealous bus driver who wore sunglasses even in the depths of winter. On arrival that morning, he slammed the bus into reverse and mounted the cement bags.
It did not take Detective Joe Kenda to solve this one, and Paddy Ryan would never have guessed the offending machinery was a school bus and not a forklift after all.
The decommissioning of freight by rail in later years came fast and furious. Private compa-nies took over what was once a thriving part of the railway system.
Even the fast-track part of the business operated out of the office was wound down.
The emphasis by the company concentrated on passenger traffic, which dramatically reduced staff and therefore costs.
In the 90s, the Asahi train from North Wall to Ballina, carrying acrylonitrile to the now-defunct Asahi factory, was the only show in town.
Over the last 10 years, Ballina has become an im-portant freight hub for container traffic from local factories, which is a positive move.
Timber trains still operate, relieving a lot of congestion on our roads.
THE DARKEST DAYS
On December 22, 1967, the 7.30 a.m. Westport-Heuston passenger train struck a van carrying nine members of the travelling community, killing four and injuring many more.
The accident occurred at Knockaphunta unmanned crossing and was the worst of its type in Castle-bar's history.
Among those that died was an 11-year-old girl whose father also passed away in hospital later that night.
Three years later, in August 1970, a horrific shunting accident claimed the life of Brendan McBride at Westport Station.
An extremely popular figure in the town, it was to have been his last duty before taking his wife and family on holiday.
In mid-August 1987, three young people were seriously injured while attempting to land their single-engine Cessna aircraft at Castlebar airport on a return trip from the Isle of Man.
The plane overshot the runway, crashing through phone wires before eventually colliding with a ditch the far side of the railway track.
Irish rail staff Joe Fenney and Johnny Bourke got the injured from the wreckage and were lauded for their heroic efforts.
Barely three minutes before this, the packed Heuston to Westport train had just passed, so a major disaster was narrowly averted.
FOOTBALL GAMES
On arrival in Castlebar, it was the old Almax machine that was used to issue tickets.
Soon it was replaced by the Crouzet model, and that machine was hot during Mayo's many titanic battles in Croke Park.
I remember queues to the top of the road, as this was pre-online book-ing times.
The joy in being able to accommodate a late request for a ticket, even when told not to, was more satisfying.
One year, this nearly turned into disaster.
Despite orders from Galway to issue no more tickets, I got a request late on Saturday night from a man called Willie.
An acquaintance for years, I couldn't say no as I felt no matter how packed a train was, there was always room for one more Willie.
Everything went a breeze on Sunday morning, but on the following Tuesday I was away and got a call as I was mentioned on MidWest Radio.
The bould Willie had been refused at Heuston on the return journey and went on Tommy Marren’s show to lambast the so-and-sos in Heuston and heaped praise on that nice man Noel Hoban in Castlebar who let him on.
I expected another public hanging in The Mall when I returned, but luckily, Irish rail chiefs were not listening that day.
I remember sending teams away with Johnny Mulrey RIP and Sean Feeney.
However, nothing matched the excitement of the games with Dublin during that team's golden six-in-a-row era.
The only team that could match the Dubs toe to toe, and despite having one hand on the cup, Mayo never crossed the line.
In 2012, my kitchen resembled Sky newsroom with wires to beam the homecoming down to McHale Road.
Donegal put paid to that, but it was the 2021 final during Covid that hurt most with the loss to Tyrone.
It was the last football special I worked, and I could see the whole demographic had changed.
The older and middle-aged supporter was no longer travelling and were replaced by hormone-charged teenyboppers mad for a day out and a few drinks.
It was a late game, and the last special arrived back after 1 a.m. I was still cleaning up sick at 2 am that morning.
I am not sure the same lust and passion for Sam is as strong now as it was then.
If you're waiting for something too long, the hunger tends to wane, and 74 years is a mighty long wait. The landscape of sport is changing too, as the spring rugby match showed, when the biggest crowd ever seen showed up in Castlebar, something that will never be equalled.
RITE OF PASSAGE
Their journey must have begun late on the night of the 9th of April and continued through the early hours of the 10th.
The journey I refer to is that of the Addergoole 14 and the two dozen well-wishers that walked, some in bare feet, from Addergoole to Castlebar train sta-tion to make their fateful journey to the New World.
After the decimation of the famine, which saw their parish population decrease in half, and the fear of eviction, the 14 decided on their rite of passage, as it was known then, for a better life.
Leaving Lahardane, a beautiful village intimately nestled in the bosom of Nephin, they walked through the night, many with borrowed money, while all had borrowed dreams.
The train departed Castlebar at 8:20 am on the 10th of April 1912 and took 12 hours to reach Queenstown (Cobh), travelling via three train companies en route, Great North West-ern, Midland and Great Southern.
The next morning, a lone piper played them onto a steamer with “Erin’s Lament”, which took them to the giant Titanic docked in the deepest harbour.
On boarding the world’s largest passenger liner, the Addergoole 14 were shown to the low-est cheap quarters in the bottom of the ship.
Their limited underwater views through port-holes was a far cry from the partying and frolics occurring on higher decks.
On April 14, disaster struck in the form of an iceberg, and the ship started to sink.
Absolute mayhem followed, a far cry from DiCaprio and Winslet's depiction on film as the scramble for lifeboats ensued.
Some men dressed up in ladies’ dresses to gain access to lifeboats and were shot by security. What a change 100 years makes as a man in a lady’s dress is more likely to be elected to Dáil Éireann.
Eleven of the Addergoole 14 perished that night, along with 1506 other souls, the largest casualties being from crew members, of which 700 died, in-cluding William Luke Duffy from Castlebar.
I was proud in April 2012 to act as MC for the 100th commemoration of the tragedy that be-fell Addergoole, and a memorial plaque was unveiled.
In my dealings with those lovely folk, I got the feeling that the scars and sadness still resonate today, over what for them was akin to their own Munich Air disaster.
ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY YEARS
I was back on the rostrum for the 150th anniversary celebration of Castlebar Station in 2012.
This was a highly charged day with the PR department in Dublin dishing out orders on speaking times, etc, as Taoiseach Enda Kenny was expected.
As it transpired, Enda was detained in Brussels with Angela Merkel, so the unveiling of the beautiful cast iron steam engine was done by the late John O’Mahony.
The piece was created by local genius Liam Ralph and was commissioned by the Town Council.
Every person who worked here over the last 163 years has left their legacy and is part of the successful, safe railway we enjoy today.
My own personal highlight was being accorded a civic reception by the Town Council in 2002. I still treasure it with honour to this day.
I am retired now and no longer relevant, but I hope any recollections are enjoyed as much as the previous three articles. In the words of Céline Dion's Titanic song, “My Heart Will Go On.”
Special thanks to Ray Lawlor for printing my script and arranging for publication. Also, thanks to Sean Browne, Castlerea Railway Museum, for the Castlebar cabin picture.
PHOTO CAPTIONS
Photo 1: Page of Castlebar cabin train record book from 1983. Familiar names sadly departed.
Photo 2: Town Mayor Eugene McCormack addressing the crowd in April 2012. Addergoole
commemoration day. Also in pic are Ger Deere, Blackie Gavin and Therese Ruane.
Photo 3: Martin King RIP and Joe Feeney RIP in the last days of Castlebar Signal Cabin. 1988.