A story of the Hill of Howth Tram

An Act of God

actofgod.jpg (49882 bytes)In the summer of 1949 the Peninsula of Howth was struck by one of the most severe thunder storms ever recorded. The day started as a beautiful sunny Sunday. Crowds of Dubliners had flocked to Howth to walk her majestic paths, scale her noble hills, swim in her seas, or simply laze about. Nelly Redmond recalls the day well: indeed she told me, she could never forget it as long as she lives. The ‘Shamrock Tea Rooms’ at Howth Summit was packed with holiday crowds, and each tramcar from Howth and Sutton brought more and more people. It was intensely hot and throngs of people lay sprawled about the hill and the Summit tram was doing great business. Nelly was a waitress at the Shamrock Tea Rooms and the green sward about the Shamrock was coloured with people.

Tom Redmond was setting off from Sutton when it happened. Amid the mirth and happy talk, no one had noticed the black cloud creeping over the hills like the flagships of war. The skies donned a cloak of steel grey and the gulls above shone luminous and eerie as they wheeled about. Suddenly a peal of thunder broke the silence and a loathsome rumbling swept the hills. The skies opened and rain drops as big as pearls danced heavily on the ground. It was as if someone had turned out the lights and the seas had swept over the land, as crowds of holidaymakers dashed for the shelter of the tram to make a quick descent to safer ground.

Tom had just pulled in at the Baily loop and could hear the scurrying of feet as the upper deck was abandoned to the pelting raindrops. As he reached out to throw the control into first notch, he felt a shock tremble through his arm which glued him to the controls for a few seconds before flinging him backwards across the platform. He can recall the numbness down his left side as he continued his journey to the Summit, shaking like an aspen leaf.

The lightning was relentless. The tracks shone like silver threads ahead and the drenched sleepers sparkled as flash upon flash sizzled across the navy sky. The Hill of Howth groaned like a sinking ship.

When Tom reached the Summit he saw Billy McNally and Pat Dowd in car No. 5 waiting for him to clear the section. Suddenly a bolt of lightning sent fingers of icy light reaching out to the trolley standard which stood deserted on the upper deck of No. 5. Tom saw a glow run down the trolley rope and split the front of No. 5 in two like a cracked egg, as the crowds fled the electric tram car in panic. Tom could see Billy shaking as they both ran for cover.

Picking up courage, Tom and Billy eventually continued on their way. The trams were the only moving things that crossed the frightened hills as the storm rage incessantly until late that evening.

Even when Billy talks about it now he feels his flesh begin to creep as he recalls the sky lit up as if on fire.

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