The crossroads
Lisselton Cross
The village is its crossroads. The R553 from Listowel to Ballybunion meets the local road that runs north toward Ballylongford and the Shannon. There's a chapel on one corner, a few houses on the others, and that's the whole of it. For a hundred and fifty years it's been a place you stop at, ask directions, and drive on from. The Lartigue Monorail had its only intermediate station here between 1888 and 1924 — a passing loop where the up-train and the down-train swapped sides on the strange one-rail line. The track ran along the road you're on. Nothing of it is left.
Listowel races to Ballybunion
The September migration
Every September the Listowel Harvest Festival fills the town for a week and the racing fills the racecourse, and when the last race is run a slow tide of cars pours west on the R553 toward Ballybunion. Lisselton sits in the middle of that tide. For one week the road is busy. For the other fifty-one it isn't. The parish takes both as they come.
Three men in the Polo Grounds
Ballydonoghue GAA
The parish club — Ballydonoghue GAA — is based at Coolard, a mile from the cross. It has put men on the Kerry senior team in most decades since the 1940s. Three Ballydonoghue men were on the 1947 Kerry side that travelled to New York to play the All-Ireland final at the Polo Grounds — the only final ever held outside the country. Cavan won. The parish remembers anyway. The neighbouring parish at Finuge sent Paul Galvin out a few decades later, and the rivalry between Ballydonoghue and Finuge is the kind that gets sorted in junior championship matches on wet Sunday afternoons.
Born up the lane
Maurice Walsh and the Quiet Man
Maurice Walsh — the novelist who wrote The Quiet Man — was born in 1879 in the townland of Ballydonoghue, a mile or two from Lisselton Cross. He went to school in Lisselton and on to St. Michael's in Listowel. By the 1930s he was one of the best-selling Irish authors of his generation, translated into half a dozen languages. John Ford turned the short story into the 1952 film with John Wayne and the rest is the version everyone knows. Walsh's part of it started here, in a small farmhouse on a small road in a parish John B. Keane later called possessed of a throbbing vein of literary genius. He wasn't being polite.