Local historian, dramatist and musician, Sean (Jack) Crawford recalled the scene in February, 1929: �I got inside on the excuse that I was bringing a coat for
my brother, the Clerk of the Council. All the councillors swore that they would sit there permanently, if necessary. They said they were `animated by one ideal,
- to stick it out until the other side caved in.` This was no sectarian squabble, as each candidate had support from different religious bodies.
�Each side was watching the other closely. Mere jobs, home comforts, etc, were irrelevant. All through the night they stayed alert. And if they didn�t get much
sleep, neither did the townsfolk. They couldn�t sleep too serenely, thinking that the city fathers were holding out in the old Town Hall. Forty winks might
upset the apple-cart!
�My brother, the Town Clerk, had to stay along with the rest of the council; the rules gave him no alternative. There was a piano in the council chamber,
belonging to the Choral Union, but no one played Brahm�s Cradle Song, Bach or Schubert. Chess was played, and the game is still commemorated in a newspaper
photograph,� Sean Crawford added.
The record-making stalemate was finally broken, when one of the candidates, F.P Connolly, became ill, and had to be rushed to Daisyhill Hospital in Newry.
Thereupon Mr McMahon assumed the reins of power on Warrenpoint Urban Council.
On a more enjoyable note. Most people rejoiced that the so-popular �Amusements� remained in the `Point in the summer of 2003. It has been a happy scene, as
generations of children rode the hobby-horses, surging ever higher on the swings, while their more adventurous brothers and sisters chanced the flying-chairs,
screaming as they zoomed to great heights, plunging over the heads of on-lookers.
Inaugurated by Thomas McGivern, a native of the �Point, and member of the local Urban Council, he commenced the enterprise with the hobby-horses, gradually
building up to switch-backs and flying-chairs, along with such games as Crown and Anchor, Roulette, Hoopola, and finally open-air dancing.
In fact, Tommy�s father was the first to organise open-air dancing, held in the Square during the months of July and August. Big crowds, especially Scottish
visitors, really enjoyed this novel activity. The evening always ended with Richard Tauber singing : �Good-night, Vienna,� � the last record before the
lights went out, and the traction engine wheezed to a standstill.
However, the equipment proved too bulky, heavy and expensive to transport to other towns and villages, during the off-season. And, in the opinion of many
young people, the �amusements� had become out-of-date, being replaced by dodgems as a money-spinning attraction that promised speed and thrills.
The old traction engine known as �Carry On,� had belched clouds of black smoke into the summer night sky, blocking out the sparkling stars. It was sold to
a vintage vehicle fanatic, and was displayed at traction engine rallies in various parts of Britain.
Jarveys had also been a familiar feature of the holiday scene at the `Point, during the �good old days.� Tommy Magill was one of the last to drive those steeds
in gleaming harness and glittering cabs, along the road from the railway station to Rostrevor and beyond. Cheery passengers, especially Scottish folk, would
be laughing and singing. Tourists would be taken to Newcastle by the only mode of transport then available.
According to historian Sean Crawford, a jarvey�s rig consisted of a bowler hat, smart waistcoat, long blue or black jacket and trousers, with gleaming boots.
During the period before Christmas, they would take Kilkeel emigrants from the station in the �Point, home to their beloved Mournes. Long lines of jarveys
would also wait outside the Baths for boat-loads of visitors, arriving from Omeath, having crossed on the Hollyhead to Greenore steamer. Others would take
up position at the Square, Railway Street or Newry Street.
Also on the transport scene, the first train from Newry to Warrenpoint ran in May, 1849, and the line closed down in January, 1965. Crowds cheered loudly as
the steam-train chugged into the `Point station, drowning the music of the Nineth Regiment Band. All the ships in Newry harbour had flags flying, while the
steamer �Hercules� fired off its guns.
There were nine trains each way on week-days, and eight on Sundays. First-class fare was sixpence, and four pence of second class. In the early days,
third-class passengers were in open coaches, seated on wooden planks. They were advised to wear gauge spectacles to ward against the belching smoke from
the engine.
Plans to extend the line to Rostrevor were aborted, due to cost and planning difficulties. So visitors to the Kilbroney region had to depend on horse-drawn
trams. However, one stormy New Year�s Day saw the demise of this form of transport. The raging sea scooped away the wall and undermined the track.
With the driver seated on a wooden plank, there were two kinds of open carriages called �toast-racks�, running parallel to the main seating. The closed
carriages were known as �butter-coolers.� Round the dock wall out of the �Point was a curve, and sometimes youths would place stones on the line, derailing
the tram.
Meanwhile, the Newry to Warrenpoint train service was proving very successful, bringing thousands of day-trippers to the `Point, as well as being an economic
and social lifeline for the Newry region. However, after the war, the situation changed dramatically, with the emphasis on the motor traffic, and
large-scale construction of new roads, including the dual-carriageway.
As the fate of the local line looked ominous, a high-powered delegation of MP�s, councillors, chambers of commerce and trade union leaders went to Stormont,
pleading for the Minister to keep the rail-link open. He put one question to the deputation. �Gentlemen, how did you travel to this meeting?� Each person
responded: �By car.� End of story!
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