CNC

There is a lot of talk these days about the social consequences of the shutting down of Post Offices particularly in the countryside, where they provide not only the regular post office services, but also serve as a social hub for the community.

This reminded me on the extent that the local shop can often play such a role.

Take our shop in the village of Ballybrack, Co. Dublin, in the 1950s and 1960s.

Newspapers & Magazines

We sold newspapers over the counter, which meant that lots of people came into the shop every day to buy one and hopefully something more. The margin on newspapers was very tight and they were a sort of loss leader to attract custom.

Very often more than one person came in at the same time and a conversation would ensue, often around the headlines of the day but equally likely turn into a bitching session about some of the neighbours.

My mother had a golden rule in this regard. Listen and keep your mouth shut. Very wise, and even more particularly so in the location we were in.

Our catchment area was Killiney, Ballybrack and Loughlinstown, which the unwary might not realisse was almost a single genealogical unit. If you were thought to agree that Mrs. Byrne, who was getting an unfavourable mention in the conversation, was a bitch, then you were as likely as not to be accused the next day by her very self of taking sides.

Too much of this and your business goes down the drain. So, along with the necessary commercial stance that "the customer is always right", you learned to keep your mouth shut during such bitching sessions. Nodding the head was also out.

We also delivered newspapers. I had a daily paper round and I think there were at least two others covering different parts of the "parish". Deliveries gave rise to a feature not found in many other shops and not a major feature of shops today - THE SLATE.

People paid for their deliveries at the end of the week when they, or a family member, came into the shop. Now, the slate is a form of credit and is subject to the usual abuse of such a feature, to the detriment of the shopkeeper.

Some people let the bill mount up over a number of weeks. This was taken to extreme when some upmarket magazines were included in the delivery. At the time Ballybrack was moving up the social ladder in certain parts and those who had aspirations to join the nouveau riche but without the means to do so, nevertheless had to keep up appearances. So posh, including household/fashion glossies were ordered, delivered, and often not paid for.

Of course once you have a slate you never know what will end up on it. A particular problem was young people putting items on their parents' slate. This was a dilemma for the shop keeper, who was sometimes criticised for not acceding to the child's request, and other times for letting the child put, say, sweets on the bill. A real necessity here to know your customer.

An interesting side story arose out of our delivering papers. John Barrington had been Lord Mayor of Dublin twice, in 1865 and 1879, but he is equally well known in Joycean circles as the manufacturer of Leopold Bloom's lemon flavoured soap.

Well my great-grandmother was in domestic service in his premises in Parnell St. and married out of there in 1866. Barrington lived in Killiney and my mother ended up delivering papers to one of his descendants in the 1950s (Campanella). Three generations of, interrupted, service.

Appropriately enough, in view of the slate, the shop premises now house the local Credit Union.

Quality Cakes

We also sold cakes, luxury cakes as we called them. They were delivered regularly from the Marie Basquille Bakery in Dún Laoghaire. The above illustration is a bit of an exaggeration as what we sold tended to be the smaller individual cakes such as eclairs though there was nothing stopping an order for a bigger bespoke cake for a special occasion.

It's an unusual name, Basquille. We had Liam in the Department of Finance and I recently came across Andrew who runs a book club (currently online) among the volunteers at the James Joyce Tower in Sandycove.

Argosy Library

And we also had a library. Yes, a library. Argosy library. It was only a stand in the corner of the shop but the van came every month or so and replaced all the books. More administration for the shopkeeper and family. I suppose, on the strength of this, I could add librarian to my CV.

Walkers Christmas List

And then there was Christmas. We had an account with Walkers in Liffey Street and ran a Christmas club where people saved in the run up to Christmas to pay for items they had ordered out of the catalogue. These could vary from board games to bicycles and the child's tractor in the illustration above would not have been out of the question.

The Telephone

There weren't many telephones around in those days but we had one in the shop. The customers could use it once they asked first and paid the requisite charge. This service was provided at marginal cost. The phone did attract a lot of people into the shop and hopefully they bought something while they were there. I used it extensively in the evenings with my friend at the other end as we did our homework together.

The Name

And finally the name. As you can see we had O'Dwyer over the door for much of the time but that's not what was there in the beginning. When we moved to Ballybrack in 1954 the shop was known as the CNC and that's what we had over the door, CNC. Nobody knew what it meant, it had been there so long. The best guess was Cigarettes, Newspapers and Confectionery.

So you can gather from the above that the shop was more than a shop, so to speak, and an integral part of the social fabric of the village.