Post by Ptarmigan on May 11, 2008 17:53:57 GMT
Dusty Rhodes of Cushendall
James Stoddard Moore, the local Poet 'Dusty Rhodes', was born in Cushendall in 1844, the son of an Edinburgh man (well all the best people are!) and a local lass. His parents died before he was fifteen, and soon after, he became a sailor and travelled the seven seas, worked as a Goldminer in California and was a soldier in India, Afghanistan and Malta. When he returned to Ireland however, he worked as a farm labourer around Cushendall & Ballintoy but as he grew older he became a tramp, which was very common in those days.
Most of his poetry was written during the years he wandered the local roads, and he would give the poems to local farmers in return for board and lodgings, or for a few shillings. Some were published in the Northern Constitution, the local publication which printed so much of Sam Henry's collected songs.
He lived with his second wife, for a number of years in Dunlop Street, Coleraine, but settled, after many years on the road, in Mill Street, Ballycastle, with his third wife, and died in 1939 at the ripe old age of 96.
He clearly had plenty to write poetry about, what with his foreign travels and romantic lifestyle, not to mention his long healthy life, and of course, his three wives.
Thanks to Sean Traynor, who wrote to tell me the following tale about Dusty:
"My Great Aunt was born in Prolusk in 1905. My Dad was born at Carnsampson in 1931, Ballycastle. When I was young he was always telling me off for playing my music too loud, saying that I would get the same treatment as what I thought was "Dusty Roads". One day when he was talking about his childhood I asked what the saying was about and he told me that Dusty wouldn't stop playing his fiddle in a neighbours house (I think at a wake) and he got chased from the house with a broom. I don't know if anybody else has mentioned the tale?
Most of his poetry was written during the years he wandered the local roads, and he would give the poems to local farmers in return for board and lodgings, or for a few shillings. Some were published in the Northern Constitution, the local publication which printed so much of Sam Henry's collected songs.
He lived with his second wife, for a number of years in Dunlop Street, Coleraine, but settled, after many years on the road, in Mill Street, Ballycastle, with his third wife, and died in 1939 at the ripe old age of 96.
He clearly had plenty to write poetry about, what with his foreign travels and romantic lifestyle, not to mention his long healthy life, and of course, his three wives.
Thanks to Sean Traynor, who wrote to tell me the following tale about Dusty:
"My Great Aunt was born in Prolusk in 1905. My Dad was born at Carnsampson in 1931, Ballycastle. When I was young he was always telling me off for playing my music too loud, saying that I would get the same treatment as what I thought was "Dusty Roads". One day when he was talking about his childhood I asked what the saying was about and he told me that Dusty wouldn't stop playing his fiddle in a neighbours house (I think at a wake) and he got chased from the house with a broom. I don't know if anybody else has mentioned the tale?