Up until the time John Fennell arrived in CWC, my striking memory of biology, was a quoted ‘fact' from Mrs. Miller (RIP), that “Pigs fed on the cardboard boxes that Kellogs cornflakes were packaged in, and put on more weight than the pigs who were fed on the cornflakes themselves.”
Oh, and in a rigorous scientific experiment conducted in Mrs. Miller’s laboratory, by the class of that time, extremely severe evaporation can take place when fermenting apple juice in a biology lab…..In particular when the large glass container is left close to a (slight ajar) window. Remember, there were no hosepipe bans in those days!
And one final one from Mrs. Miller’s class, when TC pricked his finger to do the blood test to identify your blood type, and said blood emerged from his index finger, he promptly fainted and fell in a heap on the floor. Thankfully he didn’t consider medicine as a career.
Although he did take a case of sexual discrimination against UCD when he was denied entry into Physiotherapy in UCD, which he won. Much to our dismay, he decided not to take up the offer of the place in the end. But I digress……..
Returning to Mr. Fennell, on his first day in Clongowes in biology class, he swaggers up to the blackboard. Then picking up a piece of chalk, he writes his name on the board, turns around and addressing the class, announces, “My name is Mr. Fennell. Two e’s, two n’s, two l’s.” Here was this new teacher staking out his turf, with some amount of bravado. I liked him instantly. He wasn’t known as Funky Fennell for nothing.
On some Saturday mornings though, he didn’t as much swagger as stagger.
From memory, biology was our first class on Saturday mornings, and on more than one occasion one of his earnest students was dispatched to the refectory to get some oranges for a 'biology experiment'. The experiment involved squeezing the oranges into a glass, and the juice promptly consumed by Mr. Fennell, thereby illustrating the point of the experiment. Friday nights are not supposed to be followed by Saturday mornings in school. Particularly when you are the teacher.
At on the St. Patrick’s Day SCT victory celebrations, Mr. Fennell introduced some more than willing students - all over 18 and legal I hasten to add - including myself, to Harvey Wallbangers. How sophisticated I felt. However, whatever imagined sophistication didn’t survive to the following morning. Some oranges for a biology experiment would have gone down well then.
Looking back, it’s worth remembering "Funky Fennell" wasn’t that much older that we were; his 25 years of wisdom in comparison to our callow sheltered 18 years. He was one of the most engaging and fun teachers I had and biology was always a subject I enjoyed, even on Saturday mornings.
He instilled a lasting love and interest in all things biology….and your minds can wander wherever you wish with that one! We’re all adults now, although some may set out to prove differently on the reunion weekend. Here's to Mr. Fennell: 2’es, 2 n’s, 2 l’s.
Some other snippets:
Week 2 in Rudiments in CWC in the top open, Paddy Digan - in the bed next to mine - and I were playing chess. Silently. Whereupon on discovery, we were summoned to Mr. O'Keeffe's room, and given 4 of the best with the leather pandy bat. Ouch! It wasn't as if we were disturbing anyone.
In Latin class, our teacher Murtagh O’Shea gave me 100 lines: “I must not demonstrate cousinly affection in class.” The reason? I was sticking the pointy end of a compass into John Donnelly’s bum.
On one late leave in Dublin after a cup match, having borrowed a pair of glasses to make myself look older, I was refused entry into Soldier Blue (who remembers that X rated movie of the time? not me anyway) as I was underage. I was mortified.....but I don't think I was the only one. Sparrow Harte & Dan Farrington too?
But probably not as mortified as when in Madigans after a cup match, I was nominated to go to the bar to order pints. Slinking up to the bar - not the best strategy when trying to portray confidence - and in the deepest voice I could muster, I demanded “2 pints of Smithwick's and 2 pints of Guinness.” The barman looked at me, smirked, and asked “Where’s your mother son?” Mortified, I retreated to the laughing mob, to lick my wounds. Naturally they gave me plenty of help with that!
Ned Carroll giving some of us a life to the races on a Saturday afternoon. Racing regulars would have been Morgan Mooney, John 'Conor Pass' Moore, Fran Fitzpatrick. "Puff' Carroll was such a kind man, who was given a terrible time in the Big Study.
Remember the Stink Bomb episode, which I think occurred during Ned's Big Study watch? Poor Ned was picked on mercilessly. Paddy Crowe, Headmaster at the time demanding "I want the boy, and I want him now." I believe the boy responsible for said Stink Bomb episode may be one of boys the named above?
Grattan Donnelly
The opinions expressed published works are those of the author and do not reflect the opinions of Clongowes 1978 Blog or its Editors.
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