....

Balbriggan Lighthouse, without the dome,
Is like having a house that isn't a home.
Like the old town clock with only one hand,
Or our wonderful beach, without any sand.

To us who have reached that certain age,
When they stole our dome, it sent us in a rage.
Whatever were the old town fathers about,
For they let the dome go without a shout?

Lets start a campaign to have it restored,
For if are together, we can't be ignored,
We should rekindle the light, starting today,
And rebuild the dome, without any delay.

Why not let B.net know your view on restoring the dome.
See news page for details.

Little Roger Turner, (me) slipped quietly into the world on the 17th of July 1948 knowing nothing about it.
He grew up with his mum and dad (Eileen & George) and his big sister, (born 1940) Pat, in the heavily polluted city of Sheffield, England.
A normal childhood followed, with one exception... Each summer, mother took Pat and little Roger (me) all the way to balbriggan, in Southern Ireland to spend the summer.
The following is the story of those long gone, but not forgotten summers.........

................

Through Rose-Tinted Specs
Memories of Balbriggan in the the 50's
Copyright 2005
By
Roger Turner

...........

.........

.......

...........

.........

........

.....

.....

.....

.....

...

....