Mr T Ludlow London & Lobinstown Calling bells - An appreciation When Fr. Michael Sheerin, parish priest of Lobinstown and Holy Cross Church, celebrated a first anniversary mass for Tom Ludlow recently, he was remembering a great friend and parish benefactor. For back 20 years before, Tom had donated 15 acres of prime land to his old parish. On one section of this is now Ludlow Park, Syddan's GAA grounds, and on the other is the much admired Holy Cross Church, with the new cemetery alongside, and the new presbytery at the rear. Tom himself went to school at Newtown NS, which is at the eastern side of the parish. In his book, 'The Bacon Box', he remembers his youth and the very poor times during the 1920s and 1930s. Among his mother's few pieces of kitchen furniture was a bacon box which his father had got from a local grocery shop. It was a strong, square wooden structure and had once contained sides of salted bacon supplied by the wholesaler to the shopkeeper; now that it was empty, Tom's mother was delighted to have it as a sturdy and safe playpen for her children as they progressed from toddling to school-going stage. There, at the fireside, they were safe, warm and secure; she then had a little freedom to get on with a multitude of chores in a life that was busy and a struggle, while her husband Peter, fought hard for small earnings elsewhere. Tom's mother often cried from frustration - deep, sad tears on impoverished days when even the most frugal supplies were often exhausted and she knew not where to turn in order to provide the basic bodily needs for her household. It was on one of those tearful occasions that Tom, a seven year old, full of compassion and love for a mother he knew well deserved both, said to her: "Mother, when I get big, I'll buy you lots of nice things." It was a promise often made by a young son or daughter to a weeping mother struggling in the face of the uneven burdens of life - and a promise, I'm glad to say, often kept too - but in Tom's case, it was more difficult, for the good things of life then depended largely on the ownership of land. She loved land, and longed for the fruits of even a small holding; but by the time Tom was able to buy that land, his mother has passed on and that part of his story ended sadly there. The promise was still alive but its fulfilment had to be postponed. By then, Tom had known life to the full - the hard and risky part, too - for just prior to World War II, and with no job at home, he joined the English army to fight for the Allies. It was not the most popular decision for an Irish boy then; but has since been approved, and rightly so, with honours and distinction given to Tom and all who fought with him, as well as deserved credit for courage and bravery. For well we know that without that fight, we might have long since been a non-existent people. Tom's first mission was to Dunkirk; straight into the fury of war and against German guns accurately defending the France they had overcome. But soon it would be a retreat, and Tom would be lucky to arrive back in England, though seriously wounded. But he would recover, and take part again, constantly risking life as a commando at the front of the Allied troops. He survived to enjoy the peace he fought for and cherished. Later, he met and married Betty Russell, an English girl. Having settled in England, Tom set up and ran for many years, a very successful radio/tv rental company, which operated and still does throughout the United Kingdom and in parts of Australia. It was during this period that he bought two farms in his old parish of Lobinstown - as he vowed he would. Sadly, by then his mother had gone to a 'better place' but Tom had not forgotten his promise to her. He had to wait in order to realise his ambition, and though she did not live to see this, she and he and their families are remembered, through his generosity, in the fields he gave to Syddan GAA and for Holy Cross Church cemetery and presbytery. These are the bess forever calling all of them to mind. Tom was buried in South London. It is fitting that we should remember him in a Mass; to say again 'Thank you, Tommy' - and to hear, if we listen, not far away, the voice of a generous man whispering an answer, "People of Lobinstown you are all very welcome." Tweet

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