Death Notice: Breeda Hall, formerly of Coole

The death has occurred on Wednesday 11th May 2011 of BREDA HALL (née O’ SULLIVAN), Kyle, Drangan, Thurles, Co. Tipperary, and formerly of Coole Cottage, Millstreet. Breda deeply regretted by her loving Son Eamonn, Daughter’s Siobhain, Triona, and Deirdre, Daughter in Law , Grandchildren, Sister’s, Relative’s, Neighbours,and Friends. R.I.PReposing at her Residence from 4 O’ Clock to 7 O’ Clock tomorrow Thursday.Removal from her Residence Friday to the Church Of The Immaculate Conception Drangan For 12 O’ clock mass followed by burial immediately afterwards in St Mary’s Cemetery, Drangan. No Flowers donations if desired to the Irish Cancer Society. [ref]


Breeda was a sister of the late Bishop of Kerry Diarmuid O’Sullivan, Mrs. Mary B Sugrue, a teacher at Presentation Secondary School, Tralee, and Mrs Kathleen O’Hare, Coole, Millstreet.


“It is with deep regret that we record the sad death of Mrs. Breda Hall, Kyle. In her mid eighties, she was choir mistress here for some years. A fully qualified chemist, she was always ready to give advice and help when required. She will be sadly mourned by all. Her remains were removed from her home to the Parish Church in Drangan and following Requiem Mass by Archbishop Dermot Clifford and Rev. Fr. John McGrath P.P., Mullinahone, interment took place in St. Mary’s Cemetery. To her son, daughters, sisters, grandchildren, relatives and friends, our sympathy is extended.” [ref: the Nationalist Magazine]
“Mullinahone has always been lucky with both its doctors and its chemists. Milo Maher was succeeded by O’Sullivans chemists Fethard and Breda Hall of Kyle ran their shop in Mullinahone for many years. When Breda retired in the 1990’s there was trepidation locally that this would see the closure of the village chemists shop.” [ref:]

And I Still Miss The Fields Of Annagloor

Some people have this inborn yearn for travel
For wanderlust there is not any cure
But I still envy all those stay at home types
And I still miss the fields of Annagloor.
The robin piping early in the morning
By the old home high on the cypress tree
And the pheasant cuck in the rank grass by the hedgerow
His voice you hear though the bird you seldom see. [read more …] “And I Still Miss The Fields Of Annagloor”