Winter chill brings back memories of the ‘beet factory’

I MUST be getting nostalgic in my old age, but last week I happened to talk to a friend at a filling station on Green Lane and remarked that I could feel the first chill of winter. His reply, which got me thinking about times past, was “all that’s missing now is the smell from the beet factory”.

Note, he used the term “beet factory” and not the correct title, as it was once known as the sugar factory. I suppose that is both an age thing as well as a Carlow thing, if there is such a thing, if you get my meaning. True Carlovians always referred to the place as the beet factory.

Back to the smell – it was dreadful. But it also announced both the arrival of winter and, more importantly for an awful lot of people, the start of the annual “campaign” – again another Carlow colloquialism.

This meant a lot of able-bodied men got work processing the beet, truck and tractor drivers also benefited, as did tyre companies and a whole host of other small industries around the town.

But, as was also not unusual for that time of year, there was the threat of industrial action as workers at the plant sought an extra few bob for their efforts.

This usually resulted in lengthy meetings between management and union officials, followed by worried headlines in this newspaper of a possible strike, followed by a make-or-break vote, often held in the old Ritz ballroom, only for a last-minute resolution to be found.

Then it was back to work, 12-hour shifts, seven days a week, with the aim of processing as much sugar before the campaign came to an end around the middle of January.

In the meantime, there was the usual stink permeating around town, which led to the inevitable discussion at UDC level as to how management at the factory was going to solve the problem.

Equally, there was always talk about the lengthy traffic delays on Kilkenny Road and over Bill Duggan bridge, as delivery trucks took their place in a queue to deliver beet to the factory.

I drove past the site of the factory the other day and it looked a sorry sight to say the least. The remnants of the weighbridge are still there, as is the chimney stack, but nothing else to suggest that it was once a place where upwards of 1,000 people worked and God knows how many more made their living supplying it with anything from a needle to an anchor.

The dreadful smell is long gone – in fact, I would safely say that if you asked many people living in the town about it, they wouldn’t have a clue what you were talking about. The queue of tractors and lorries on Athy Road and Duggan bridge are also gone – as are all the jobs – and, let’s be honest, the town is worse off for it.

I have been critical of all the road works on Kilkenny Road over the past few months and now people will say here I am complaining about the fact that there are no longer lengthy queues on Athy Road – why don’t I make up my mind as to what I actually want.

But there is a difference and, as with a lot of what I say, I do not apologise for that. We were sold a pup back in the day when someone, somewhere, suggested there was over-production of sugar in this country and the only solution was to sell off the silver, take a nice cheque and keep our mouths shut.

Again, those of us of a certain age can remember seeing perfectly good machinery, which had cost a fortune to install on Athy Road, being broken up and shipped off to wherever, but don’t worry, there would be more than enough good jobs for everyone when a so-called orbital town was developed on the site.

Unfortunately, that whole notion of an ‘orbital town’ was just a pipe dream which never came to anything, just like the notional value of the site where the factory once stood being valued at crazy money.

A couple of years ago, there were suggestions that a new sugar factory might be on the cards, but like an awful lot of other ideas floated in the past, this has come to nothing – and if we are being truthful, most likely never will.

In a few weeks, the Christmas decorations will begin to pop up all over the place as we get into the festive mood. It will be another opportunity to reel in the years and think back to a time when every child in the town wished a parent worked in the ‘beet factory’.

This newspaper carried photos of delighted children exiting the Ritz ballroom with presents after enjoying a never-to-be-forgotten Christmas party as the rest of us looked on in envy. Like a lot of other things gone from the town that, too, is now only a fond memory.