Another esteemed businessman was the late Joe McGuigan, President of the St John Bosco Youth Club, and long-time committee member of Newry Mitchels GFC. Later the business was taken over by Paddy Traynor from River Street, brother of Oscar, Scout Leader and keen photographer.

Among the other shops now gone are those of the Rankin family, -Brian, the chemist; while they also operated a sub-post office and grocery, as well as a drapery business. In O�Callaghan�s greengrocers was a cardboard clock, which carried the notice `No Tick Here!` But still surviving is McParland�s the hardware merchants, with raconteur Gerry in charge.

Public houses have been prominent, such as Terry Murphy�s, Jack and Mary Doyle (Railway Bar), the Gunnes and Mallons, while Bernard Hughes� West End Bar is now Gerard McGuigan�s.

It was in a sporting household that Marie Darcy grew up. Her father, John, was employed at McCann�s Bakery. Seamus played at centre-forward for Chelsea, and was in the Northern Ireland squad, along with Danny Blanchflower and Billy Bingham, etc, which almost defeated England at Wembley in 1952. They also drew against Scotland at Hampden Park.

Kevin, who worked at McCann�s Bakery, and played for Belfast Celtic, settled in Australia, while Adrian was in the Dundalk squad, and Pat donned the Newry Town jersey. Eamonn was a member of Newry Shamrocks GFC, emigrating to Cleveland, Ohio. He has been involved with the Irish community, who have erected a monument to victims of the Irish Famine.

Meanwhile, one Christmas Eve in the mid- 70�s, I called at Downey�s the butchers to collect the turkey. A woman came in and said that a bomb had gone off down the street. Grabbing the camera from my car outside, I hastened to the scene, just as ambulancemen carried two victims, wrapped in white sheets, out of a public house. They were the IRA bomber and a Protestant youth, who had called for his father.

An old friend, Eddie McAlinden, operated a home bakery opposite Gorman�s the hair-dressers. He had been in charge of the bakery at the Snack Bar on Hill Street. During the school holidays, I was employed there, along with George McAteer from Ballyholland.

Eddie�s son, Martin, a journalist with the Frontier Sentinel, and a member of the Official IRA, was shot dead by under-cover British solders at Ballyholland, after a cache of explosives had been discovered. He and his comrade, Oliver Rowntree have been commemorated on the new monument at St Mary�s Cemetery.

A nightmare scenario faced me when arrested by the British Army, close to the scene of the shooting. Charged with ignoring instructions by an army officer, while taking photographs, I was taken in a military vehicle to Bessbrook army base, and seemed set of the high jump.

On hearing of the shooting, I had hastened to the scene, but was stopped by a soldier. On producing a Press card, I was told to wait for a few minutes. In the meantime, a hearse came along and the undertaker, the late Brendan Heaney, indicated with a thumb over his shoulder the two coffins inside.

Since there seemed no point in remaining, I prepared to leave. But the soldier said I could take some photographs. Puzzled, I followed him to where some brown sticks of gelignite had been laid out on the grass verge. On enquiring whether any guns had been recovered, he responded in the negative, looking a bit embarrassed.

When I requested permission to take some photographs at the scene of the shooting, he brought me up a slope, pointing down towards a ditch. An officer and sergeant were standing nearby. I asked to be shown the precise spot, and the officer volunteered, insisting that no photographs should be taken of him. Realising that the picture of a ditch would be of no interest, I took a chance, held the Rolloflex camera against my chest, and made a remark to the sergeant in the hope that it would drown the click of the shutter. However, the NCO heard the sound and shouted: �Sir, he has taken your photograph!�

The camera was taken from me; I was marched down to the road and placed in the front seat of an armoured personnel carrier. My spectacles were removed and I was ordered to sit on my hands. The vehicle was driven to the Bessbrook base by a circuitous route. En route, I frantically tried to think of some excuse for my action.

On arrival at the base, a crew-cut sergeant ordered me to stand, spread-eagled against a wall, while he did a body-search. Reports were coming out of Long Kesh about prisoners, standing for hours against a wall, supported by their finger-tips. Would I be charged with a serious offence, - maybe receiving a jail sentence!

Then, into the corridor stepped the Army Press Officer. A few months earlier, a Pakistani youth, employed at the Crossmaglen base, had been shot dead by the IRA. The `Daily Mail� asked me to interview the victim�s father, and the officer had made the arrangements. When I explained the reason for the detention, he told the sergeant to release me.

On collecting my camera from the dark-room, I noticed close-up pictures of the victims, - Martin McAlinden from Monaghan Street and Oliver Rowntree of Monaghan Row, lying on the table. I resisted the impulse to ask for photographs of the dead duo!

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