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I SELDOM write about things of a personal nature, but I suppose being the day that’s in it I believe it would be remiss of me not to mention my father, so I decided to go the whole hog and write about him.
My father Roger was one of 13 children and was born in Tralee in 1919.
There was a lot of love in his family, but there is also no doubt that times were tough back then and he was encouraged to leave Ireland at the tender age of 14 and go to England to work.
He had two aunts in England and he started to work as a trainee chef in Bournemouth and worked his way up to being a chef in Grovenor House Hotel in Park Lane London.
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This would explain why he had little interest in formal education as he barely did his junior cert examination but have no doubt he was an expert with A levels in the ‘university of life’.
He returned to Ireland in 1939 when World War 2 broke out, thanks to his Uncle Ned who purchased a public premises in Castle Street, Tralee.
My father could return home safely instead of being drafted into the British Army as fodder for the German soldiers on D-Day. What a thought, but this was the harsh reality of the time.
He was a big Arsenal fan and often travelled to Highbury Stadium and saw the likes of the great Ted Drake in action.
He used to love to regale me with stories of his time in London often talking about things that thought him tough life lessons.
Going shopping at a market in Piccadilly, he purchased a beautiful shirt at a stall to find when he opened the box at home that all he had was a box without a shirt. And when he returned the stall had moved on. Be careful where you purchase!
On getting into difficulty at work a senior chef gave him advice; ‘Harty you got yourself into the shit so get yourself out of the shit!”
Good advice on the importance of self-responsibility in a nutshell.
On common sense, he used to say, “the thing about common sense is that they gave it the wrong name, it’s not that common at all”. Then he would give a big laugh.
He was a founder member of The Rose of Tralee and in fact it was founded in his own public premises.
He travelled with the festival to New York on a bi-winged plane to bring the first New York rose home for the first Rose of Tralee in 1959.
I believe there were only five rose contestants that year. Alice O’Sullivan, a great friend of mine who is still in great fettle, was the first Rose of Tralee winner.
While in New York he wondered about emigrating to America but decided instead that, as he said himself, “I can have New York at home”, so he brought many of his ideas home with him.
He renovated his bar (Roger Harty’s Bar) in 1962 and was one of the first in Ireland to install central heating and a Steak Grill, probably one of the first pubs in Ireland to have food on the premises and was renowned for his toasted special sandwich.
He had very loyal staff on board with him and it would be remiss of me not to mention the great Eddie Howard who worked with him arm in arm for over 50 years.
He had a great love of all things racing and was a shareholder and founder member of Ballybeggan racecourse.
Perhaps the greatest lesson that my father gave me is to reassure me that he was always there for me as a guide, but he was willing to let go and let me learn the ups and downs of life for myself. In doing we learn.
God Bless you Dad ! RIP 2008
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I remember those steaks. I loved chatting with him while he sliced smoked salmon. Great person.
Thank you Martin – He had a skill of hand slicing the smoked salmon so thin it was almost translucent which somehow added to the texture.
Great memories to have.
Regards Roger
So glad you chose to write about your Dad. An interesting life of a man who evidently had the JDI philosophy of life. Leaving Tralee at 14 and being one of thirteen children is testament to his adventurous spirit. I’m glad he returned home because your account verifies my Dad’s account as to where and when the idea of the Festival was born. Apparently another Tralonian who had been home, perhaps from Sweden, had returned without any of the present company getting to meet him. So it was decided there and then (JDI) to set up a special week for exiles to return and meet their friends, as well as other things.
My dad from Boherbee upped sticks with Mam and children for Dublin in 1963. He gave up the drink and our family also grew to thirteen. Even though he was off the drink for thirteen years (a year for every child) his best notion of a holiday was to return to the pubs, mainly in Boherbee and to meet his many friends during the Festival. I think the quote of your Dads ” the thing about common sense is that they gave it the wrong name, its not that common at all” could be applied, but the savage will always love his native shore. Thank you so much for writng this article.
Best Wishes
Michael Dunne
Lovely memories Roger!
He was all that you said ln Christmas Eve 1953 Johnny Shea. And I are the only two left out of five life time friends who could forget. Eddy Howard great sandwich maker. Thank youforsharing
I was fortunate to have had the pleasure of knowing Roger (He was a friend of my father’s, Des Cooper), Whilst attending CBS Clonalour, I regularly had my lunch in Harty’s and was always well looked after by Eddie, what a gentleman. Nice memories of Roger and Tom Harty.