Poulfur National School, Fethard on Sea has certainly touched the lives of hundreds of people. I attended this school from 1986 to 1994. "School days are the best days of your life" - said someone who never went here. I had a very strong dislike for school from the very first day, and can distinctly remember those moments. Mum leaving me at the door with then local female teacher, crying "no Mam, don't leave me, I want to go with you, don't leave me" - watching her take the diagonal path across the yard. I fought with all my might, kicking, crying, grabbing the door handle and being firmly restrained. This would go on every morning for at least the first week, until I came to know this woman was going to use all force necessary to restrain us.
I have quite a few memories of life at this time, the strongest are shocking, there were thousands of good memories too. She was a mother and knew how to be warm and enjoyed teaching. As long as you were ultra obedient and did exactly what you were told, you'd be moderately okay. A woman of the 1940's, brought up in a rigid time of catholic obedience and rule by force. We were 4 and 5 year old children and whilst it was natural for us to play and move around, this lady had other ideas and would use all force necessary to beat us into submission - we soon learned how life would be.
I remember being slapped full force across the face, we watched everyone else being slapped also. She was notorious for walking behind us and driving her knuckle straight into our spines if she wanted you to moving. Their was one chap who was fidgety and she'd tape him to a chair, often. Once she had him taped to the chair, put him in the corner and put a dunce hat on him.
On one occasion I was asked to go get the guillotine, upon re-entering the class she told me to leave it on top of the bin. Later at lunch, eating my marmite sandwiches I put the crusts on the guillotine instead of lifting it and placing the crusts in the bin. She put me over her knee, pulled up my skirt and down my knickers and proceeded to slap my backside hard numerous times in front of the whole class. Then put a big X on my forehead in permanent marker so everyone would know I was bad. All the parents accepted this behaviour, whatever happened you were in the wrong.
I'm not saying this woman was all evil, she had her moments, however I am saying she was as wicked as a bad nun. Very religious and felt justified in whacking the perceived badness out of children. In this particular school the boys got it worse. Tripping on negative power, the finger of self imposed power in every child's face. I witnessed her hitting kids often, especially the older boys at lunch time. I wouldn't say a day went by that she didn't drive her knuckle into some kids spine. Pulling kids by the ears was another daily procedure. Never telling you she wanted you to move, instead dragging you by the ear and dragging you across the class room usually followed by an act of violence. If she felt you weren't listening you could receive a bang into both ears at the one time. I've seen kids wet themselves for not being allowed to go to the toilet and being punished for it. I've such poor memories of the alphabet.
For seniors and 1st class I had the same teacher, she was a god send. Lovely person, gentle soul, great teacher - I got on very well here. Back then we played lots of yard games. Once called 'British Bulldog'. At the beginning 2 people were 'on' and all the rest of us from every year would start at one side of the yard and would have to run to the other side without getting caught, if caught you joined the centre catching people. It was brilliant, pure adrenaline. Sometimes we'd have a game before school and so many lunchtimes were spent playing in this way.
All the other female teachers were fairly legitimate, we'd occasionally get visited by an old Canon whom no-one ever knew what he was saying, rambling on some religious chatter and the volume of his voice would go up and down randomly, nice break to daydream. We'd have to do confession at times - no idea what to say, making up confessions between ourselves in the hallway. "I was mean to my mother, didn't do my homework, ate the sweets when I was told not to ........"
We were very free back then, cycled to school, there were less cars then and they couldn't go as fast as modern cars, it always felt safe. Rushing home after school to eat dinner and straight down the woods for a massive game of chasing. Or hanging out with others on our bikes. Saturdays we'd be sent out of the house and adventure through fields and make huts and rope swings, make up games and pretend to be in the army - we'd play and use our imaginations, entertaining ourselves endlessly. So innocent, such good memories.
In Poulfur NS at that time their were three male teachers, one was headmaster. The headmaster to this day I am very fond of - a brilliant mind, great teacher, I still remember lots of things he taught us - he was a dab hand at corporal punishment, and had a great imagination of coming up with new ways to punish kids. He didn't have any malice in him, he was fair and occasionally cross.
Of the other two, one I had the other I did not. The one I did not was very hard on lads, and many 'hard lads' today despise him for his cruel hand and even broke a hurl on one lads backside. For the community he had very progressive ideas and played a large part in getting the GAA up and running here.
The other, I never liked his teaching style and god love him he did try, really hated waking for school those mornings, he would lose his head, hit lads with hurls across the backside, once he put his fist through the glass in the door he was so angered by a girl in the front seat. He liked music and made us learn songs in such a way it always felt like torture. "All around the blooming heather . . . . . " my god did I detest that song, and actually years later I come to know it as an okay song. We had a new priest Joe McGrath at this time and he was a really lovely man, funny, good spirits and positive light. Liked Joe, nice man.
We had many activities in the village, there was a running club hosted by two lovely men who were very dedicated and would give their time every week putting us through our paces, The big burrow was a load of sand dunes at the end of Grange beach, since washed away, sometimes we'd go running down here, so tough, great training though. We also had a badminton club, really enjoyed this and the lady that ran it was a real lady, great coach. The best part was badminton rounders at the very end, hit and run to the other side, if you missed you were out, gosh it got exciting when it came to the last 3 sprinting around the court. Saturday mornings we had speech and drama class in the hall, we had an excellent teacher whose son is a very famous children's book author. Its brilliant for kids as it instils great confidence in public speaking and creativity.
There were many other facilities in the village at that time, Betty Coopers shop had sweets by the quarter, which we'd visit weekly with the pocket money. A quarter bon bons, and a quarter pear drops and do you do eights Betty, she was well used to us. There was a pitch and putt which was great for chipping the ball around on an afternoon. Jimmy O Leary's garage was a relic of hard work and beautiful design, Jimmy decorated it with shells and he built a kids house which he loved us using, lots of old metal farm tools and things to play with. We also had the ball alley to hang out in and play hurling after mass.
The tennis courts were another hang out in the village where the kids playground is now. Hop scotch on the street, elastic bands, skipping. We had loads to be doing in our spare time, luckily kids could go out and play then. Ban Milis swimming pool was brilliant too, the owner had great time for us all and taught most of us how to swim. We did the water safety up here during the summer months.
At that time in Fethard the GAA club was being improving. We used to use a pitch out the Ralph road belonged to a kind gentleman, also used by cattle - rounds of warm ups around the pitch hopping over cow path in high grass was a weekly activity. A group of local people got the funds together to buy the current pitch up in Ramstown. Training here in the beginning had a new twist to it, the grass was kept down however the first half of training we'd pick stones up and into buckets, the second half we'd play hurling or football. One of the most significant things that GAA did in Fethard thanks to a local business man - as they were raising money for the club house through a lotto draw, they included funds to re-do the dishevelled roof of the protestant chuch in Fethard.
This was a huge symbol of peace. Fethard had been torn about from events in the 1960's where a catholic man and his protestant wife came into issues when their children were to be sent elsewhere other than Poulfur. The priest at the time got heavily involved and ripped a community to pieces with verbal atrocities from the altar, demanding a boycott of the protestant community. There is a movie called 'A Love Divided' about the fallout. It created a big unnecessary split which carried on until the GAA made this gesture and wounds began to heal. The protestant church in Fethard was once catholic and was held by the Bishop of Ferns - he got an offer of land in Ferns, up and left giving it to the protestant community. The back half of the graveyard are catholic graves and the front half are protestant graves. Even in death they lay divided.
There was a pattern already formed here of rogue anti-christ priests. We hit rock bottom when Sean Fortune's shadow came upon these lands. He was the active priest when I was attending Poulfur. This 'thing' was a relentless paedophile, defiler and thief - a cunning, manipulative predator, real scourge to the planet. I attended pre-school in the front room of his house and distinctly remember the palms of his hands, don't have many other memories - a grotesquely obese fat head and his soft palms of his hands.
Young boys in the community have that there life destroyed from an early age. What was most remarkable was how brazen this predator was. One night in the Villa a GAA meeting was being held and this thing bestowed himself upon proceedings aiming to bully his way into becoming chair person. Thankfully the people involved had strong moral fibre and ran him. He left furious. This was before public knowledge of the abuses however many had their suspicions, some bought into his big talk sermons, others knew some things weren't right here. He carried an un-nerving energy.
After the news broke years later after he left, many won't dare speak of it for the shroud of secrecy and shame held a community captive. I never felt it was relevant to me as I was so young and female, however in recent years in Shamanic Healings, memories started to appear of seeing him exposing himself on a sofa with the pre-school kids climbing around him and other scenes of older kids scared and being taken into other rooms, I was in the energy of violations.
He'd go to people's houses giving marriage counselling - telling abused women to stay with their husbands, god forbid walking away from the sacrament of marriage, he had a sense of people's weaknesses or dirty little secrets and used them to access their children, taking them out of the house for drives, many elderly gave him large sums of money, sinners paid up. He started a youth club in his house, they'd would occasionally go away on trips. One girl told me of how they were all locked into a room & would hear the screams of the boys being sodomised by a rapist priest. They'd then have to swear on the bible that they would never tell and threatened.
He was cunning, in your face, had enough charm and charisma to convince parents to let them access their children. Altar boys were touched up - every child in Poulfur school was defiled in some way, shape or form. It was very hard to confront the church back then, some parents did go to the bishops which often lead to further psychological abuses. Bishop's had a full time job covering up paedophile priest's abuses - they had a protocol to convince the children they were wrong. This is the biggest paedophile ring on the planet. One child is too many - they molested millions. The current pope is a jesuit, an anti-christ, as in the opposite of Jesus's teachings.
In a small divided community with massive abuses, huge shame, secrets imposed upon people, a darkness lurks and a cloak of shadow covers the whole region. Hurts, pains, violations swept under the carpet. Emotional connections are cold, heavy drinking, hard drugs, violence, domestic abuse, victimisation, incest, molestations are often the result. Almost never is his name mentioned and very few have dealt with the pain as they suffer in silence putting it to the back of their minds, however it is a poison ivy and slowly eats away at a persons good nature. We're all heal in freeze mode, stuck in time.
This is the reason I came to write this piece. So many voices remain isolated in silence, and the atmosphere in the pubs are aggressive, Fethard was well known throughout the 1990's of a place to get into fights and to get off your head, no one will bat an eye lid for its daily practice. Fethard is a very broken place. I choose not to be part of the secrecy club, nor shall I hide behind any shadow's. Once the truth is set free- we are all free. "The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing" - Edmund Burke
Sixth class was interesting. It was a fantastic training ground for life. To this day still remembered many of the facts and knowledge we were taught. He had an assertive style. In good mood an excellent teacher, in bad mood shut you mouth as random missiles would be coming at G-forces for your forehead. He had good aim too.
I found him to be very fair, really inspiring when in form albeit a dab hand at corporal punishment. He was very good reading people and enhancing the smart one's growth. If you were dyslexic, troublesome or a slow learner he didn't have any major pass on them for in fairness they were never going to be academic. There were two boys I distinctly remember on days they'd be acting up, he'd send them out to work with the caretaker because they were too 'thick' to teach. They have since gone into construction and are doing very well for themselves and undoubtedly making far more money than the academics who have jobs and are on capped incomes.
Before lunch was always better than after lunch. After his frequent liquid lunch his form varied. We'd be given work to do and when he said silence he meant silence. Getting loose on the tongue would instigate any object within hands reach coming straight for your head. He had a big table with a lot of objects. There was usually a few tennis balls specifically for purpose, the tip-ex bottle, the duster in very bad mood or the metal stapler in extremely bad mood.
Boys certainly got it worse - girls didn't tend to act up as much. Head under the blackboard. He knew the fear was often worse than the event, so you wouldn't always know when it was coming and would sometimes put on a show for us all to react to 1,2,3 near attempts and then the whack would come. Slap - full force with an ash hurl across the rear end straight into the bones of the sacrum and femurs. Watching the poor lads attempting to sit afterwards was pain for us all. We all knew the consequences. Swinging on the back of your chair was a definate no no.
I had little respect for the teacher in fourth class, I could be defiant at times and occasionally be sent up to the headmasters. He never actually badly hurt me, once he had me put my knuckles down on this desk and would come down on the edges with the side of a steel ruler and I kept recoiling at the last second - eventually he gave me a right slap of the ruler and back out dossing around in the corridor because the teacher didn't know where I was and I was injured.
I never forgot the spellings, the geography, the history, the maths, the general knowledge he thought us, I can still recite the poetry we learned. Once day he was in a playful mood and we were doing maths tables. He'd randomly call your name and ask a sum, you could get it wrong once, twice you had to stand, three times move to standing at the wall, four times one hand on the head, five times two hands on the head, six times kneeling with both hands on head, seven sums wrong and head under the black board. If you got any right you took a step back. We were all fairly good at maths sums by the end of sixth class.
We were thought a lot about 1916 and the war of independence - a true nationalist. He took great pride in our history and knowing who we are and where we came from. I happened to be sitting at a corner with three lads around me that loved farmer talk so I also learned how to recognise an Ursus or Massey Fergusson be sound going past the window.
Poulfur was certainly an experience that left its mark on all of us. Now things have changed I'm sure. The old school was knocked two years ago and a wonderful new school has since replaced that of old. It is terrific that the new generations have a great facility to learn and play in. Its a pity that they are caged in a tarmac yard for lunch time, however to be fair its probably for their safety, it would be lovely to see lots of trees and poly-tunnels to teach kids how to grow food and let them come in contact with soil, bet they'd all love that class. Kids thrive when in contact with nature, perhaps it will come in time. The whole place looks very modern and clean. I dare not ask if they are using wifi signals in the school which is slightly criminal according to M15 Physicist Barrie Trower.
The new autistic wing saddens me greatly. Yes it is wonderful to have this facility and its a great support for these kids who are severely hurt by vaccines. The dialogue is missing through no fault of the school, its a huge hush hush job by the pharmaceutical companies who make billions on selling vaccines, its a very lucrative business and the government who are in place because they love talking are rarely of any great morale fibre or reasonable IQ take the word of corporations and print into legislations.
There were no autistic kids when I was growing up, I never heard of the word until adult years. We were given the MMR vaccine, 3 in 1 which would negatively affect very few until about 40 years later which would then become fibre myalgia, MS or other Autoimmune of the muscles or joints. Now a days they get 28 vaccines. As soon as the multiple vaccines turned up the effects became to be known as autism. No doctor will admit it for they fear being stripped of their licence and they all practice without any informed consent. Every vaccine contains mercury, aluminium, glyphosate, fermeldyhde and all the viruses listed below which are grown on aborted fetuses or animal DNA (note: the viruses are alledged, many doctors with their own testing labs find they may or may not have these one, some have other and some have only a couple of these - any doctor who printed their results usually died soon after from 'suicides' - especially those that found lymes and nagalase in the vaccines.)
Aluminium and glyphosate - which is round up by the way - together crosses the blood brain barrier and disables the pineal gland. There are no such thing as live or not live viruses, a virus is a chemical chain that once it finds a host entered the mitochondria (engine of the cells) takes it over, uses its mechanisms to spread around the body, its job is to alter DNA and infect the host. They never ever leave the body, unless you use herbs to extract the, The theory of vaccines and creating antibodies is accepted in the medical world (I differ on opinion, I see the viruses staying there and the body always compensating, its gets on with things however your never at 100%, these kids will never know themselves on full potential) however, its the added chemicals and toxic metals that when given intravenously go straight into the brain and very tricky to remove.
Vaccine in the 1970's were being made clean in Japan, Merck sent in people to convince them to change to the american standard and paid them mega-bucks to stop. Now the dirty ones are being used world wide and they cannot sell enough of them. Its worth billions, so they give girls hpv vaccines that do more damage than good, now they are being given to boys who don't have the organs, flu jabs that are 100% fail rate because the virus strain changes ongoingly, big money - most people end up with dementia and heart problems and cancer, so they can sell the most lucrative drug of all Chemotherapy. Huge money spinner. These corporations do not have your child's interest at heart. They are as obsessed with the pineal gland as the vatican is. Its so important to them to keep a population controlled by cutting off the pineal gland and access to the higher realms.
However the children being born today are much higher frequency than us, they are the upgrade of us. Their sixth sense is wide open, this is partly why the vaccine program has increased. They are a huge threat to the secrets of the darkness and they are our saving grace. They are the reason we're all walking up and seeing the world for what it is, seeing the controlling systems. Thanks to these beautiful souls, we are moving into better times, although bumpy times to lay ahead, the technology age is trying to hijack the natural upgrades of humans, they are not going to succeed, human kind shall conquer this darkness in this age.
The current 'liberal' pro-globalist cabal agenda government are removing history, taking away the Irish flag in favour of the EU flag and ethos whose design comes from the Nazi party of the 1920's. Their ambition is to eliminate national sovereignty and Irish pride. Bills are currently going through the government to teach five year old's masturbation, sex education for toddlers - would appear to me to be making paedophilia normalised. The violations of children has not gone away, it has just changed its mask. Some shall thrive and others more damaged than ever before, so long as we keep accepting it. Its a Poulfur thing. The name changes, the Nephilm energy stays the same.
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