TradeNames: A shoemakers in Dundrum has survived and prospered through rapidly changing times. Rose Doyle reports

In Dublin, in 1849, the Campbell family were established shoe and bootmakers. Family members continued to polish their trade through the rest of the century and were well-known makers of "military and ladies boots" by the time Patrick Joseph Campbell, shoemaker, began his search beyond the city for a place which would be kinder to his bronchial condition.

He settled on Dundrum, known at the time for the purity of its air. The year was 1909 and the Campbells have been making and repairing shoes there ever since, a core part of the community, a landmark in the village and, always, loyal to a suburb which has changed more than most.

Paul and Flo Campbell have been married and in charge of the business/institution for nearly 50 years - helped more than ably for 25 of those years by their son, also Paul. He moved to Wexford two years ago. "I'm on the scene since 1960," Flo says, "and by Jesus did I inherit something else when I walked in here!"

Together they tell the story of Campbells Corner. Energetic, funny and vocal, there's a passionate care and affection for Dundrum in everything they say. "The Campbells were shoemakers from the beginning," Paul settles into the telling, back to the door of the shop but his ear cocked. "I had to go to Kevin Street Tech and take a course before they'd let me take up a shoe."

But this is jumping ahead, so we retrace our steps and put a shape on things with some dates. Patrick Joseph Campbell was born in 1859 and died in 1955 when he was 96 years old. He worked the business which became Campbell's Corner, Bootmaker and Shoe Repairs, until the 1940s when, finally, he handed over to his son, Jack Campbell (born 1890) who was Paul's father. When Jack died in 1951 Paul's mother looked after things until 1956, the year in which she died. Paul (born 1938) took over; he was 16. "I'm here ever since," he asserts, "standing behind that counter, in poverty and suffering!" He laughs. Flo laughs with him.

There was one short break, when they went to England as a young married couple. And, until 1983, they had the insecurity of not owning the place they lived in and worked. That was when the bank gave them a mortgage of £1,000 per month on their corner building. The rent would have "gone up and up" if they hadn't bought, according to Flo, who says she "often had to work with Paul until four in the morning to pay the mortgage."

Paul goes back to his memories. "There were seven of us. I'm the baby of the family. My grandmother was gone when I came on the scene but the auld grandad stayed on a long time in the shop. Because he wasn't for handing the shop on, my father moved to Belvedere Place and got a job as a clerk with T & C Martin but had a terrible accident when a load of timber collapsed on him. He had five kids at the time and, there being no such thing as dole, he lost everything. Jim Larkin got him a house in Davenish Road in Crumlin and that's where I was born, along with my sister, Esther.

"And it was then," Paul Campbell takes a breath "that the auld grandfather offered the shop to my father. My father used have to travel back and forth on the bus from Crumlin every day. Two buses. One to Kelly's Corner, another on out here. His journey wasn't unusual. That's the way it was then."

Jack Campbell, health impaired because of the accident, worked hard and far afield. "He delivered everywhere and used have shelves for Foxrock, Cabinteely, Leopardstown. I used collect and deliver shoes after school and I was 12 years old and coming through the door with a pair of shoes when my mother told me my father was dead."

Flo interrupts. "Her one dream, after that, was that Paul would have the shop."

Paul goes on. "My father was too old when he took over. He put his heart and soul into it, did his best to make it work but along with the cigarettes, which he used eat, it killed him."

Dundrum, and the world, were different then. There were a lot of older families living in the large older houses around, many of them customers.

"My father's attitude was that the customer was king," Paul says, "and I still have the same attitude. The way he did things you didn't mention money to customers. You wrote what they owed into a ledger. A lot of them never paid but it was our own fault too - we weren't good about chasing things up, even if it made the difference between eating and not eating. That was my father's way."

Paul talks of a Dundrum with "two little rows of cottages and five shops, including us", of the way the 48 bus used come round the corner, turn and go "right back into town". About the grandeur of Leverett & Frye on Main Street, their mahogany frontage and excelsior teas for 2/- lb. , about the old forge around the corner and how the lady riders, after their animals were shod, would arrive at Campbells for their own boots "and think nothing of putting the front two legs of the pony into the shop".

He remembers the Overend family, too, coming from Airfield House for their repaired shoes in a Rolls Royce which they would park outside. "No parking restrictions in those days," he says.

Jack Campbell repaired mostly strong boots, putting on leather soles and heels with full steel tips. Flo adds a memory. "Riding boots were a big thing - the dogs wouldn't drink your blood if they weren't ready in time."

Paul's grandfather "on account of having the City and Guilds, did all the repairs in the criminal asylum. The inmates worked in their own shoe-making shop and he supervised them."

Then along came Flo. "I grew up in Rathgar and I knew Paul from 1956. He used have three benchmen working in the shop and he had a huge car, an Austin Cambridge, GIY468, in black. I thought he was the nicest guy I'd ever spoken to. I also thought he was a rock of sense."

Paul, an arm on her shoulder, says: "If I'd known I was so good looking I'd have married myself", and Flo, undeterred, says, "we married and went to England. Paul's mother died but the landlady had promised her she'd keep the place for us so we came back and we're here ever since. When we moved in it was the pits; no electricity, no water. We had to put a plank on the floor of the bedroom to reach the bed. But we decided to make a go of it. I love Dundrum."

"I must love it too," Paul says, "to have spent 50 years here!"

Paul and Flo Campbell reared three children in Campbell's Corner.They remember everyone who worked there too, especially Brendan Carruthers.

"He was here until he was 74 and died only weeks ago - he was 81," Flo says. "Anyone who was anyone lived around Dundrum at one time. But when the big families sold their land and houses and the housing estates were built it was the people who moved into Balally, etc, who gave us our bread and butter. Going back to the 1960s, before the big changes, people said we'd be the first place to go because we're on a corner. But the developers know now that the only way I'll be going out of here is in a box."

These days, Paul says, customers come from far and near, "for all sorts of things. I can reconstruct a shoe eaten by a dog, do what no one else will do. We're undecided about whether to expand or go into the new shopping centre," they laugh merrily at the idea of it. A life force, the two of them.