The immortality of photographs

Cavanman's Diary

People, generally football enthusiasts, often ask me if I have access to old photographs from the back issues of this newspaper. The answer is that I do but the archive, lovingly collated some years ago by the late Karen Lynch RIP, is sieve-like in terms of what it contains.

So, for example, there may be a folder of 75 snaps from, say, the Arva Agricultural Show in 1967 but nothing from Cavan’s Ulster Championship success that year. That’s unfortunate but, at this stage, can’t be helped. As an unashamed hoarder, I have collected a lot of football photos myself over the years and there are a lot more out there, forgotten in drawers and on walls of derelict pubs and so on, which I hope will not be lost.

Before Karen started her work about 12 years ago or so, much of the photographic archive here was in the form of negatives, which were stored in little brown envelopes akin to what wages used to come in, documented and dated.

Once, serendipity came into play. Around the time Ramor United opened their new pitch, I was asked to write a piece about the late Niall Dolan, after whom it was to be named. I wanted to find an action photo of Niall in full stride to accompany the piece but none was to hand.

I went down to a store room at the back of the old Celt office and found a tea chest with thousands of little brown envelopes; I lifted the first one I came across, removed the negatives and held them up to the light and there was the bold Niall, ball in hand. True story.

Anyway, aside from negatives, there were some hard-copy photographs, maybe a thousand or two knocking around, some roughly classified into years, others randomly dispersed. Each of those photos has a description on the back but just to make things trickier, the handwriting – on them all – is practically illegible.

I don’t know whose writing it was (presumably a member of staff here) but the scrawl is very hard to decipher, for me anyway.

I am interested in curious odds and ends and in the sporting and general history of this county so looking through collections of old photographs is a pastime right up my alley. The odd time, I have found a photo of note and immediately scanned it on to my laptop; once these things move to digital and are shared online, it bestows a sort of immortality on them. I might lose them but, on the internet, someone will always know where they are. Of course, once it has gone out there into the world, the photo is not longer ‘yours’ but, then again, why keep it hidden?

Once, I borrowed a photo from the son of one of the Cavanmen who played in the Polo Grounds. I met him in Dublin, scanned the picture in a book shop and dropped it back immediately, scared of my life I would drop it on the walk back.

I loved that photo, showing Cavan and Kerrymen sharing a drink and a smoke at the bar on the Queen Mary on their return home. I kept it like a secret for a while until one day I copped myself on and set it free online.

Now, I see it all the time. It pops up here and there and when others see it, they send it to me, unaware that I was the one who found it and, in a way, brought it to eyes of the world – or at least to those who are interested in the subject.

Then, I will catch myself thinking that way and snap out of it. How ridiculous and egotistical – I didn’t take the photo and didn’t keep it safe all those years. I just happened to discover that someone had it in their possession; you could argue that it was, in fact, my duty to share it.

Anyway, recently, rummaging again, I found a magnificent photo, which you will see accompanying this column. The text on the back is unreadable for the most part, as per the norm – one word could be ‘Reverend’ or, intriguingly, ‘Bernard’.

It depicts an elderly man sitting up straight, reading this newspaper. He’s wearing what we would call in these parts a “pullover” and a white shirt, buttoned to the top, an old-fashioned style which, I noticed last week, Paudie Clifford favoured on the night of the All-Ireland.

Behind him is a stove with a large kettle on it. There’s a small shelf above the ‘range’ – on it is a box of matches, or cigarettes, or maybe playing cards.

The man’s expression is quite neutral; relaxed in his own kitchen but a tiny bit defensive, maybe, like he had to be persuaded to sit for the picture. The paper is a useful prop.

The photo is undated. I can’t make out the issue date of the newspaper but by dint of the headline, I managed to track it down – it was the paper of September 28, 1995, just shy of 30 years ago.

So, before I go digging any further down the rabbit hole, I’ll stop. Can any reader enlighten us as to the identity of this gentleman and where and why the photo was taken – and by whom?

We’ll follow up in the coming weeks...