In the course of my life there have been a number of times when, by all rights, I should have been killed in what would be called tragic accidents. Big Kyrl’s driving us into the flood in County Limerick was one such incident, and yet another occurred also in County Limerick during my days with the Mallorys. It was wintertime and the roads had become very dangerous with black ice. This was one of the few occasions when neither Johnno nor his sons drove me, and I have the feeling that my chauffeur that night was called Jimmy. I know that he seemed to be very tired and I did not like the mood in the van at all. In a place called Bruree we almost hit the old stone bridge, which would have sent us into the flooded river, but my roaring of warning snapped Jimmy out of his daze, and instead we spun round on the road. I am quite sure that the river in Bruree is the same river Maigue that also tried to drown me earlier with Big Kyrl. We escaped, but that was not the end of our frights that night. Some hours later, after numerous cups of tea and coffee, Jimmy seemed to be more with it and the mood had greatly improved. Our last call for the night was to a farmhouse out in the wilds. The people were very pleasant, and even though it was late when we called, they also offered us tea while I fixed the old set. We left and by then it was really freezing hard. The uneasy feeling that had come over me earlier then returned with a vengeance, and I felt sure that something bad was about to happen, but Jimmy was not driving fast and he seemed fully awake by then. For some reason I propped my legs up against the dashboard and pushed my seat way back. I pretended that I was tired, but the real reason was that something inside me told me to sit like that. About a quarter of a mile down the road we came to a very sharp bend. The road was covered with leaves, and the next thing I remember was Jimmy cursing as we skidded on the ice under the leaves. We suddenly went careering across the road, clean through a small ditch and immediately began a freefall through the air, down to yet another river. When the van hit the ground it really gained speed, and even though this was all happening very fast, a kind of euphoria came over me and I felt like an observer, helpless and afraid, but not terrified. We then hit a tree stump so hard that it actually warped the chassis on the van, as we discovered in the ‘post mortem’ later. On impact with the stump, one of the smaller televisions in the back came flying forward, hitting me hard on the shoulder before going right out through the windscreen with a huge bang. I think it also hit Jimmy on the head and he fell forward. Then we hit the water with another bang and a big splash. My body shot forward, hitting my head on the roof where the glass had been. I felt a sudden and very sharp pain on my forehead and then nothing. I think I must have blacked out, and when I recovered it seemed like a repeat of Big Kyrl’s headstone event. I again saw the steam, the front of the van under water, the eerie lights in the water, and felt our sharp incline as the van had nose dived into the river, but the river was just a very small one and was not in flood. I wanted so much to rest there, but I wanted us out of there too. My door had swung open on impact and I pulled myself out and went round the back of the van to Jimmy's side to try to pull him out as well. He was moaning and kept on saying, “Johnno will kill me, the new van, the van”. I got him out, and we began crawling and helping each other up the steep embankment to the road. I knew we were hurt, but I didn’t think we were hurt badly as we made our way up the slope. After a terrible struggle, we finally got onto the road and both of us laid down across it to rest. The next thing I remember was looking up at the crystal clear sky, noticing how beautiful the stars were and feeling no cold at all as I believed I was dead, and it did not seem to be bad at all. Then I heard Jimmy moan out again, and saw that he too was stretched out across the road. Obviously we both had collapsed from exhaustion, and we were now in real danger of being run over by an oncoming car. The adrenalin kicked in and I hauled him to his feet saying that we needed to go back to the farmhouse and get help.
As we began to walk in the starlight I felt a warm liquid trickle into my eyes and realized that I was bleeding. We finally made it to the old farmhouse, and before I knocked on the door I washed my face in a barrel of freezing water to wash off the blood. Of course the opposite happened; the water only spread it all over me, and when the woman opened the door and saw the ‘monster’ before her, she let out a screech and then she fainted at my feet. Her husband ran out and, seeing us, he too almost went down with the fright. When they recovered we told them what had happened. The next part is a little vague. I do remember that we got a loan of a motorbike from the farmer and drove to a pub some miles down the road. Even that had to be insane as we must have still been in shock and I had a bad gash in my forehead. At the pub we got more tea, and I remember washing myself in an upstairs bathroom, preparing for the drive home to Charleville. We took off on the bike and somehow we arrived into Charleville, where someone else later drove me on to Buttevant.
My glasses were broken, my forehead had a deep cut which took years to heal and every bit of me ached all over. During the night my forehead again started bleeding and in the morning Nannie almost fainted as well when she saw the pillow covered in my blood. As if getting almost killed was a normal occurrence, next morning I got up and left for work on the thumb; no doctor’s visit, no casualty visit, no treatment for shock, and no intention of ever making an insurance claim either. That evening I was again back at O’Mallorys, this time being driven around in an old van by one of the sons. In a time of incredible health and safety regulations, what we did then was sheer madness. It had no effect on me that I know of. I never had a single nightmare about that crash. I told Larry about it and he brushed it off saying we had a lucky escape and that I had nine lives for sure. Johnno's van was totally written off due to the warped chassis and damaged engine. As in my river incident with Big Kyrl, I don’t know where exactly all of this happened, but I have always kept well away from the Maigue River ever since.
The experience I gained while working for the Mallorys was invaluable. I made a lot of money and I learned a lot, but it could not go on forever as I was becoming burned out. As soon as I bought my motorbike, I felt I had achieved my goal. I worked on for many months though, all the time telling Mary that she needed to get a full-time engineer as the business had grown and I could not keep doing the five nights a week. In the end she did and we parted great friends, and every time I pass their shop I smile and think of those happy days.
I had been working for Larry for a few years when one day a very distinguished looking man arrived in our shop. He was tall and very well dressed, and smoked what I’m sure was an expensive cigar.
This man seemed to me to be very friendly in manner, and chatted away about some problem he was having with his television set. I noticed Larry was being extra nice to him, and this was exceptional in itself, as he was nice to everyone. When the man left, Larry was all smiles and says to me, “Do you know who that was John?” I hadn’t a clue as I never saw him before in my life. I said no, and then Larry says, “Well you should know, as that’s the famous Jack O’Rourke. He owns the Majestic ballroom, and rumour has it that he’s a declared millionaire”.
I was immediately impressed for two reasons; first I had finally met an actual millionaire, and secondly he seemed to be a very ordinary and nice man to me. This was a shock, as in my very limited experience of wealthy people, they had all seemed obnoxious to me until then. Larry then says he is a new customer and we have got to look after him, so he was obviously impressed with Jack as well.
I was immediately dispatched to Jack’s house to examine his television and see if I could sort it out. When I arrived I was let in by a maid who didn’t seem to be very friendly, and before I actually got inside, I was nearly savaged by a couple of huge dogs. The TV set was a huge German Telefunken beast. After a lot of poking and head-scratching, I had no idea what was the matter with it. While I was thinking, Jack arrived in and welcomed me to his home. He was all chat, and I was now even more amazed at him as he wasn’t just being nice, he was actually trying to help me solve the problem. In desperation
I told him that I couldn’t fix it, and his answer was for me to take it back to our workshop. We were supposed to be the best in Mallow at electronic repairs of any kind, and I should have been able to get it going, but he saw through my bluffing and made it easy for me. He helped me load the huge set into the ‘bomber’, and as I drove off, I again began thinking about his manner. I liked him immensely, and for some unknown reason that day I felt that he and I would somehow become friends in the future.
We did manage to fix the Telefunken, and when I delivered it back, I was again met by the maid and the savage dogs. This time there was no Jack to help me lift the monster inside. I struggled to get it out of the car, and even this was taxing all of my strength. That television was so big that I couldn’t even see over it. I had to walk in a kind of sideways movement, trying to see around it. My arms were spread in a bear hug and the sweat was falling off me as I tried to ring the bell with my knuckles. As it happened, I didn’t need a bell as the barking and growling told all inside that a stranger was at the door. The same maid let me in, and as she did so I heard a low growling from somewhere in front of me. In seconds I became petrified, as I was totally helpless at that stage. Suddenly I felt what could only have been a dog’s snout shove right into my crotch. I got such a fright that I almost fainted and barely held onto the set. I let out a huge shout to the maid, who I couldn’t even see. “Will you call off them bloody dogs for God’s sake, can’t you see I’m scared of dogs”. I’m frozen in terror on the spot, and there’s no answer from the maid. I believe she had scurried off, just in case she might have had to help me. Jack’s wife Mary heard all the commotion and arrived in the hallway. She was just as nice as Jack and tried to help me lift the set, but she didn’t get rid of the dogs either. After a struggle we managed to get the monster up on the table, and then I suppose Mary realized my predicament and offered me tea, which I politely refused, both from my fear of the dogs, and more especially from the way they still kept sniffing my crotch. I couldn’t wait to get out of there. When I got back, I told Larry all about my adventure and he just burst out laughing, praising me for not dropping the set in the panic. After he calmed down from his mirth, we agreed that any future visits to Jack would have to be two-man calls.
Over the next few years we did a lot of work for Jack. I got to know him a lot better, and it became quite clear to me that he was a very private and gentle man with a great charity in him, though he never preached it. Many people felt that he was a mean man, but I never saw that side of him at all. In fact he was just a very honest and honourable man, believing that when you made a deal, you stuck to it. He was a tough businessman though, well prepared to bargain and tangle for the last penny. In the end a handshake sealed the deal, and you could be quite sure that you would be paid on time, and get the exact amount you had agreed on; not a penny more or less.
For many years my only dealings with Jack were through Larry, but one day he arrived into our shop and started to chat to me about the new phenomenon called ‘disco’. It was late summer and I wasn’t busy, so we chatted away for a long while. Unknown to Jack, and by sheer coincidence, I was at that time developing an electronic form of light control which later became known as ‘sound to light’. I know too that this work was quite unique at that time. My ideas had come from Kyrle, who had sourced a new device known as a ‘thyristor’ which I had managed to doctor in such a way as to make the light intensity follow the volume of the music. This was an unheard-of concept at the time, and I was within months of having a prototype working. I did get it working later, when it became known as The Liberation Mobile Disco. As we chatted I began telling Jack about this new idea of mine. He became totally fascinated with it and encouraged me to continue at speed and at all costs. A month or two later he arrived back in again and asked me if I could help him get some new disco equipment working in the Majestic. He had bought this equipment from an operation in Dublin that had failed to make a go if it and he felt that it would work in Mallow, but unfortunately no one had been able to get it working.
I was over the moon with delight at this offer, as his dancehall was a Mecca for all young people (myself included), and by then I had gone there many times with Hayes and Fowler. Now to be doing some actual work in the Majestic was an incredible honour altogether. I felt that I was surely on the way up because I was actually working for a ‘millionaire’.
I arrived at the Majestic on a Thursday evening in late September on my motorbike, and met Jack and his entourage. Very soon I was shown the huge array of equipment recently bought by him. It was space age in design and I was blown away by it all. There were large boat-shaped speaker systems and a horizontal boat-shaped control unit for the DJ’s to sit in. Equally amazing boat-shaped light units were spread all over the stage, and even though it was not working, I could imagine how it might look when it did work, and that was to be my challenge. Above all, the light units looked utterly fantastic. I doubted whether I could figure out how they worked, but I longed to see them going primarily because of my own light work at home, and secondly I was anxious to see my competition. I couldn’t wait to get at it.
Jack carefully explained the problems to me. The sound section was working, but not the boat lights, and so far no one seemed able to find the problem. I said I would fix them no matter how long it took, or I would re-design the whole thing because I wanted to see this system working for myself. That seemed to really satisfy Jack. Then I asked him and his men to leave me alone as I needed to think. After a few hours I had the measure of it all, and realized that these lights were driven by simple relays in a huge box. I was on a cloud and waited for Jack to return as I had no music to play, and that would be the real test.
When he came back I said I was ready, and to just get me some music. I chose ‘Cecilia’ by Simon and Garfunkel and pressed play. The very first beat of the drums caused the whole stage to explode into light of all colours and intensities. It looked absolutely amazing and the hair actually stood up on the back of my neck as I watched this happen. I was seeing the future and I had cracked it. Jack was beaming. He shook hands with me over and over and said, “Well done John, I never doubted you”. Obviously he had bought this system as a gamble, which for a time looked doomed, but now it was working and we all loved it.
He was so excited that I just didn’t have the heart to tell him that my electronic system had already made his relay driven lights totally obsolete. It would take me a year, but it was inevitable as I had seen and understood the relay design. Later that night too as I looked on at Jack’s units, which were then ‘state of the art’, I became convinced that I should redouble my efforts on my own light unit, which I did. Pretty soon my lights were pulsing far better than Jack’s, and me and my mad friends would soon be testing in Big Kyrl’s hall, but that tale you already know.
Jack’s discos took off and became a great success. Some time later I clearly remember giving him my bill as I entered his dancehall as a paying customer on a Sunday night. He nearly had a heart attack at the size of my bill. It must have seemed extraordinary to him, considering his entrance fee for a dance at the time was just five shillings, or one quarter of a pound, and I was charging him fifteen pounds. He always felt that I charged him way too much, and I still believe that I didn’t charge him half enough. We had many a laugh about it in later years when we were both heavily involved in ‘pirate radio’ and had become fast friends.
Etta’s years and our children.
Not too long after I started working for Larry, I was to meet my first wife Etta Butler. I used to hitch a lift home from work every evening, and at that time Etta was working in a sweet shop on the corner close to where I did my hitching. This intersection was known as the ‘Bon Bon Corner’, getting its name I suspect from the type of sweets sold in her shop, bon bons. I was to get my first whipped ice cream cone in that shop. It was called a ‘ninety nine’, and I discovered years later that these cones had been invented and used for the first time in St Louis, Missou
ri during a World’s Fair being held in that city. Like much of my story, by a strange twist of fate St Louis and America were going to play a great part in my future life, but all of that was unknown to me on the day I wandered into Con Dore’s sweet shop to buy a ‘ninety nine’ from the attractive shop assistant called Etta.
Etta did the making and selling of these cones as well as being the general money taker for sweets and groceries. It was summertime and I had spotted her earlier at work through the shop window. Her smiling face and happy personality seemed to hold a great attraction for me. I had never had one of these whipped ice creams and decided to try one, as I had seen a lot of people coming out of her shop with their tongues wrapped around them. Besides that, it would give me a chance to chat up the cone-maker and see what she was like as a person. The day I went in I didn’t know what those cones were called, so I waited around keeping an ear open for the name of the ice creams while keeping an eye on the shop assistant as well. She didn’t seem to notice me at all and I didn’t know why that was, because you couldn’t swing a cat in that small shop. Soon a customer uttered the magic words, “Ninety nine please,” and I saw the whipped cream squirt out into the cone. Immediately I was at the counter asking for a cone, and as she made my ice cream I realized that Etta was as thin as a stick, and was way too thin for my liking. She wasn’t a bit impressed with me either, but as she took my money she smiled, and there and then her smile got me interested again. I left with my ice-cream and ate it down, delighted at its odd taste. Next evening I was back again for more, and again she smiled. I was getting more impressed with her, and each day I tried to stay a little longer to chat her up. I was getting braver and more brazen too and it was getting to the point where I might ask her out, but to do that I needed an edge; something her many other admirers hadn't got. I had noticed that she seemed to have lots of other fellas who were interested in chatting her up too, and all of them were better looking and taller than me, so I had to come up with a good plan or forget about her.
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