For many in Cork, the Lido cinema was more than just a place to watch movies—it was a cornerstone of community life. Finbar Bevan, who grew up in Spangle Hill (now Farranree) during the 1950s, fondly recalls the Lido as the epicenter of entertainment for him and his friends. “It was the hub of our entertainment in cinema,” he reminisces. But getting there wasn’t always easy. Money was tight, and the challenge of scraping together enough for admission often required creativity and determination.
One of the highlights of the Lido experience was a weekly feature known as the “following up one,” a serial that left audiences on the edge of their seats. “You would see the good guy fighting with the baddie on top of a stagecoach, with the girl inside the coach and the horses bolting for a steep cliff with nobody holding the reins,” Finbar describes. The suspense was irresistible, and the group would go to great lengths to ensure they could afford the next installment.
Finbar and his friends devised resourceful ways to earn the necessary pennies.“If it was the right time of year, we got a bucket and went out into the countryside to gather blackberries,” he shares. “When the bucket was full, we would take it down to Parnell Place in town, two of us carrying the heavy load, to Ogilvie & Moore, and receive half a crown for our troubles. Thirty pennies, if you like.” With the admission fee at fourpence, they would have six pennies left for a treat at the ‘Pantry Shop,’ where they would enjoy a glass of raza and a cake while planning their next money-making venture.
This cycle continued for months, with the group finding new ways to finance their weekly trips to the cinema. Finbar also recalls an unusual method of admission during the war years: jam jars. “Glass was vrey short in the war years, and so the Lido collected the jars and sold them to the fruit factory,” he explains. “Practical logic, you would say.”
Another inventive approach involved scavenging for Harpic tins near local factories. “At the back of these factories,we would hunt for Harpic tins as they had aluminium tops to them,and sold them to a scrap yard in Blackpool,” Finbar notes. These efforts not only secured their entry to the Lido but also taught them the value of resourcefulness and perseverance.
Today, Finbar’s memories of the Lido offer a glimpse into a bygone era, where community, ingenuity, and the magic of cinema came together to create lasting memories.His stories remind us of the simple joys and the lengths people would go to in order to experience them.
Exploring Cork’s Cinematic history and Resilient Spirit
Step back in time to 1950s cork, where resourcefulness and determination defined the lives of youngsters like Finbar and his friends. their stories paint a vivid picture of a bygone era, where hard work and ingenuity were essential for even the simplest pleasures—like a trip to the cinema.
Finbar’s Childhood Adventures
Finbar, a local from Spangle hill, recalls the days when money was scarce but creativity was abundant. “We washed glass jars and bottles in the nearby Kiln River and sold them to Ogilvie and Moore,” he reminisces. “A penny for a pound jar and tuppence for a two-pound jar. The bottles we’d take to any shop and get a penny each.”
These small earnings funded their weekly visits to the Lido cinema, where they eagerly followed the adventures of their on-screen heroes. “Gripping stuff, you could say,” Finbar adds with a smile. “He was our hero, no mistake.”
But the effort didn’t stop there. To afford the next week’s film, Finbar and his friends collected timber boxes from a local factory, chopped them into kindling, and sold the bundles door-to-door. “It was hard work, but worth it for the Lido the next week!”
Finbar’s tales are a testament to the resilience and determination of Cork’s youth in the 1950s. “More stories to tell,” he says, “but sin scéal eile…” (that’s another story).
Cork’s Golden Age of Cinema
Another reader, Tim Morley, sheds light on Cork’s vibrant cinema scene during its glory days. “I think there were 10 cinemas in total,” he shares.“Among them were the Coliseum on MacCurtain Street, The Lee—Cork’s smallest with just 200 seats—and the Imperial on oliver Plunkett Street, which later became a motorcycle shop.”
Tim also reveals an intriguing connection between Cork and the iconic Rank film logo. “The powerful figure striking the gong was Bombardier Billy Wells, the UK middleweight boxing champion who defeated ‘our own’ Packie Mahony, breaking his jaw,” he explains. “Packie kept fighting though, and now you know why Ernest Shackleton opted for another irishman on his travels towards the South Pole.We’re tough, we are!”
Memories of The Lee and The Imperial
Mike English, another avid reader, chimes in with his own recollections. “The Lee on Winthrop Street was one of Cork’s gems,” he says. “It may have been small, but it left a big impression on those who visited.”
the Imperial cinema, with its prime location facing the Munster Arcade, remains a nostalgic landmark for many. “Does anyone else remember it?” Tim asks. “If so,tell us!”
A Legacy of resilience and community
These stories from Cork’s past highlight the city’s enduring spirit. From the hard work of youngsters like Finbar to the shared memories of its cinematic landmarks, Cork’s history is rich with tales of resilience, creativity, and community. As Tim aptly puts it, “We’re tough, we are!”
Nostalgic Memories of cinema, Chocolate, and Cosmic Adventures in 1960s Dublin
Step back in time to 1960s dublin, a city buzzing with the charm of local shops, bustling cinemas, and the irresistible allure of Urney Chocolates.For Tim Cagney, these memories are as vivid today as they were decades ago. From the scent of ripe fruit wafting from Cudmore’s shop to the thrill of Sunday afternoon shows at The Lee, his recollections paint a picture of a simpler, yet magical era.
The Sights, Sounds, and Smells of a Bygone Dublin
“It was right across from Cudmore’s fruit shop, where you could also buy chocolate, and I can still smell that lovely rich scent of fruit that you got when passing the shop,” Tim reminisces. The Lee, a local entertainment hub, hosted weekend shows that required membership, adding an air of exclusivity to the experience. “I remember Joseph Locke performed a few songs there during an interval one afternoon, and Blazing Away was one of them of course,” he recalls.
Cinemas were another cornerstone of social life. The Cameo, near Collins’ Barracks, operated on a similar membership model, while The Ritz—later renamed The Classic—specialized in foreign films. “Back then, the cinema shows started at 3pm and ran right through to closing time, around 11pm,” Tim explains.”You could join the show midway through the ‘story’ and stay until that part came around again. The plots weren’t that complex so it was easy to make sense of it all.”
Urney Chocolates: A Sweet Legacy
Founded in 1919 by Eileen and Harry Gallagher in Urney, Co. Tyrone, urney Chocolates relocated to Dublin four decades later. The brand became synonymous with iconic treats like the ‘two Plus Two’ bar, featuring two fondants encased in chocolate. “I also seem to remember a creation known as The Big 5 Bar, which was somewhat similar to the celebrated Mars Bar,” Tim says. “Unfortunately, the price was a tad excessive (five pence, in line with the name) so my consumption of said bars was a bit restricted.” The company even created a rival to the classic Rolo, aptly named Rovals due to their oval shape.
Dantro the Planetman: A Cosmic Hero
Tim’s childhood was also marked by the captivating adventures of Dantro the planetman, a 1950s science-fiction radio series produced by Alladium Radio Productions. “Dantro was a sort of galactic James Bond, who was employed by the fictional League of Planets,” he explains. “His job was to traverse the cosmos, keeping law and order.” Dantro’s spacecraft, The Planateer, could reach speeds of 5,000 miles per second, and he always carried a ray gun for self-defense. ”The production was both realistic and gripping and kept me and my buddies glued to the wireless for months,” tim recalls.
A Glimpse into a Simpler Time
tim’s memories are more than just personal anecdotes; they are a window into a Dublin that has long since evolved. From the community spirit of local cinemas to the ingenuity of Urney’s confections, these stories highlight the creativity and camaraderie of the era. And of course, there were the cosmic adventures of Dantro, which captured the imaginations of countless children. “Where there’s success, there’s a marketing opportunity,” Tim notes, recalling how Urney cleverly capitalized on the radio show’s popularity.
As we reflect on these tales, we’re reminded of the timeless appeal of storytelling, whether through film, radio, or the simple joy of a chocolate bar.For Tim, these memories are not just a part of his past—they’re a legacy he carries with him, a testament to the enduring magic of Dublin in the 1960s.
The Sweet Story of Dantro Badges and Chocolate Adventures
Imagine a time when a simple chocolate wrapper could unlock a treasure. That’s exactly what happened when a clever marketing idea turned into a childhood memory worth cherishing. The story begins with a unique offer: send in six wrappers from any of their confections, and in return, you’d receive a coveted Dantro badge.
For one chocolate enthusiast, the allure was irresistible. “Of course,I decided I had to have one,and so began the necessary purchases,” they reminisced. Among the many treats available, one stood out—a chocolate bar called Milk Tray. This confection was divided into six segments, each filled with a diffrent-flavored fondant. Priced at around twopence, it was a delightful indulgence.
“One of the many varieties of chocolate bar Urney produced was one divided into about six segments, each one filled with a different-favoured fondant. They called this confection Milk Tray and I think they cost around twopence.”
It didn’t take long to gather the required wrappers. After enjoying six of these delicious treats, the wrappers were carefully sent off to Tallaght. The wait began, but it was worth it. A few weeks later, a package arrived. Inside was the prized Dantro Badge, along with a fascinating booklet detailing the history of chocolate manufacturing.
The badge itself was a masterpiece. It featured a hero in vibrant red astronautic battle-dress, set against a pale green background. What made it even more special? The hero was armed with not one, but two ray-guns. It was a badge that demanded attention.
With pride, the new owner pinned the badge to the lapel of their school blazer. It became a cherished accessory, worn for ages without any objections from the school authorities. “I had feared the school authorities might frown on such a display, but – surprisingly enough – no such restriction was imposed,” they recalled. One teacher even asked about it, shocked to learn that six chocolate bars had been consumed to earn the badge.
“I remember being asked about it by one teacher, who was astounded to learn that I had consumed six bars of chocolate in order to gain the adornment!”
This nostalgic tale brings back memories of a simpler time, when a badge could symbolize achievement and a love for chocolate. It also highlights the creativity of marketing campaigns that turned everyday items into something special. Who else remembers Dantro? whether it’s a badge, a chocolate bar, or a cherished memory, these stories connect us to the past in the sweetest way.
Do you have your own memories of Dantro or similar childhood treasures? Share them with us! Email your stories or leave a message on our Facebook page to keep the nostalgia alive.
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