Sir, – It was 1967 and I was 10 years old. I was with my late father Sean snr (Cappawhite) and a shooting friend of his, Martin Ryan (Hollyford). I was carrying the bag as we hunted woodcock up a sally glen on Keeper Hill. There was a beautiful smell in the air, an odour I had not experienced previously.
As we climbed, I saw some men up ahead sitting out on the heather watching our approach. I shouted at my Dad, asking about the smell. I was immediately and unceremoniously shushed.
Later it was explained to me that the men were making poteen.
I now live near Midleton and the same smell from the distillery reminds me fondly of that day on the hill. – Yours, etc,
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SEAN FLEMING,
Cork.