Barbara Naughton

I bumped into Barbara Naughton in O’Connell St. today as I was waiting for the 16A bus (to take me to Camden St. and from there to hail the 83 bus to Rathmines library to return some DVD’s).

I hadn’t seem Barbara since last year when we had both found ourselves sitting beside each other at a computer course class in Rainer St. just up from Guinness brewery. I had dropped out of the class because of wanting to concentrate on the Leaving Cert in English. As much as I enjoyed learning about computers, it was taking up a tremendous amount of time travelling to and fro to Thomas St. Adult Education Hub. Barbara was thoroughly efficient on the computers. I remember asking her why she needed to be in the class as she was already so competent. She said she was very interested in gaining a certificate that would stand her in good stead with respect of a future job.

We always went for tea and cake afterwards and had a good old chin-wag to boot in nearby Thomas St. the area of which is very working class and where one can soak up the down-to earth friendly atmosphere of the real Dubs.

On one of these occasions I recall Barbara laughing her socks off as she reminisced about the time a whole gang of survivors from Aislinn comprising of Rosemary, Emma, Olive, Barbara and myself, who all took off in my swanky Ford Focus car at a minutes notice for a drive to Brittas Bay. We had a whale of a time en-route. We sang at the tops of our voices to the rhythm of the Dublin mountain rolling winds that came in through the open car windows. The winds swiftly swished across our breathless excited faces, as we gave vent to all our pent-up tension and pain. Barbara had hollered out amidst the uproarious laughter that she wanted to take up singing professionally. When we finally arrived at Brittas Bay and headed for the sea, we were in such a state of frenzy that we let out our voices take them where they will with shattering loud shrieks. We had momentarily cast our lifelong worries to the sea-gods and asked why were we chosen to have had such miserable lives? It was so utterly therapeutic. I’d remembered a counsellor who told me to let rip in an open private intimate place like the top of Dublin mountain. Goldenbridge inmates went to Brittas Bay every summer, so it had a resonance with Olive and myself who had hailed from there.

We also loved to gaze around at all the amazing stalls in the infamous Liberties market.

I first knew barbara from when she frequented NOVA on Ormond Quay approximately a decade ago. She is such an articulate person. She suffered dreadfully in her past at the hands of her father.

It must have been overwhelming for her being in the company of throngs of survivors of childhood institutional abuse who were not only twice her age, but who were suffering with every conceivable traumatic symptomology in the medical book.

As Barbara was going though the courts at the time for her own childhood abuse trauma, albeit from a family member perspective as opposed to institutional child abuse.

Scannal – The Barbara Naughton Case

On the 17th of April, 2002, an Irish political colossus fell upon his sword. The man in question was Bobby Molloy.

Molloy had been a TD in Galway West for the previous 37 years, during which time he had represented two political parties and served in a variety of government positions. He resigned his position as Minister for Housing and Urban Renewal because of the perception that he had attempted to interfere in a criminal case which was before the courts.

The case in question was the serial rape of Barbara Naughton by her father, Patrick Naughton, over a period a nine years. This crime, which occurred in the idyllic Connemara townland of Camus, was of a particularly horrific nature.

Reporter: Margaret Martin

Producer/Director: Seán Ó Méalóid

Click here to watch the programme…

Goldenbridge Childhood Song: ‘Gabhaim Molta Bride’. Mairéad Ní Mhaonaigh. String Sisters.

Gabhaim Molta Bride
Ionmhain i le hEirinn
Ionmhain le gach tir i
Molaimis go leir i.

Lochrann geal na Laighneach
A’ soilsiu feadh na tire
Ceann ar oghaibh Eireann
Ceann na mban ar mine.

Tig an Geimhreadh dian dubh
A’ gearradh lena gheire
Ach ar La’le Bride
Gar duinn earrach Eireann.

Translation
as provided by Ellen Reed

I praise (or pay homage to) Saint Brigid
~-~ Ionmholta=Praiseworthy so maybe:
She is praised in Ireland or praiseworthy?
She is praiseworthy in all countries
Let us all praise her

The bright torch of Leinster
Shining throughout the country
Head (or role model) of Irish youth
Head (or role model) of our Smooth or Gentle or Submissive women

The house of winter is very dark
Cutting with its sharpness
But on Saint Brigid’s Day
Spring is near to us in Ireland or Spring is near to Ireland

Mairéad Ní Mhaonaigh is the vocalist singing the second haunting ancient traditional Brigid song. I learned this exquisite song as a child in Goldenbridge in Sr. Fabian’s class. As with Mairead, the nun also hailed from the Gaelic speaking part of Donegal. I always wished that the nun, who like Mairead, also spoke fluent Irish, would have shared it with the children as a language.

Happy spring-time to all in the world out there who know me. I hope you all enjoy the very gifted cosmopolitan String Sisters folk group who are made up of various nationalities.

 The first song – Emma says:

Världens frälsare (Saviour of the world) is a chorale from the islands of Estonia where the Swedish language was introduced in the 13th century. This is one of many hymns collected from this area; sung by the descendants of the original settlers.

The second song – Mairead says:

Gabhaim Molta Bride. This is an old song of praise of one of the most famous Irish saints, St. Brigid. She was also a pre-Christian Celtic goddess who protected livestock. Her saint day is at the beginning of the month of February, and it heralds the springtime and the rejuvenation of lives.

The third instrumental piece – Annbjorg says:

Lusebus. In Norwegian, we call the small animals that sometimes live in our hair, and make us itch, “lus”. “Blus” is how we pronounce the music style blues. This is a luseblus.

String Sisters. H/t Donegal on Nov 14, 2010