“FIFTY YEARS is a long time,” said Teresa Daly with a laugh as she hugged friends she could no longer recognise having last seen them in person more than five decades ago.
“Oh my God, it was unbelievable, it was kind of a shock, I was so delighted to see all my old buddies after all those years,” she said after poring over old photographs and quickly catching up on exactly who was who.
Along with the other five women gathered in the lobby of Bewley’s Hotel in Ballsbridge, Dublin, yesterday, Ms Daly, now Golden, had entered the now-closed Sir Patrick Dun’s general hospital across the city on Grand Canal Street on June 1st, 1953, as an 18-year-old trainee nurse.
The move from Kildare to Dublin was “quite traumatising”, she said, but it quickly led to some of the best years of her life as she bonded with friends whom she would soon come to describe as being like her sisters. However, after qualifying in February 1957, the women parted ways and eventually lost touch. Some travelled all over the world with places such as Saudi Arabia, Rhodesia (now Zimbabwe), Canada, the United States, England and Greece becoming their homes.
Then last summer, Marion Cunney, now Begley – who had moved to California – read an obituary for a Gerald Golden outside Boston while clicking through newspapers online.
“I thought I’d take a chance, I knew Teresa was married outside Boston [to a man named Golden] and I sent an e-mail to the funeral home sympathising about this man, not having a clue who he was and hoping that there was connection.” In that message she inquired about Ms Daly and if it was the same family. The next day Ms Daly’s daughter called her, revealing that it was an in-law of her mother who had died, and the idea for a reunion formed.
Yesterday, while sitting around a table together for the first time in more than half a century, the group quickly began to reminisce about their days training as nurses in 1950s Dublin.
“It was like boarding school when we were in the hospital. You were up at eight in the morning and you worked a 60-hour week,” recalled Ellie Murphy (now McGarty), originally from Kerry but now living in Dublin.
A major attraction for the “country girls” coming to train in Dublin was the vibrant social scene, although late nights were rarely an option with curfews usually set at 11pm. “The doors were locked and then you had to come through the main hospital where there was a porter and he was often mean,” Ms Daly said.
“If you were five minutes late, your name went down,” she added, which meant an appearance before the matron of their student house requiring a good explanation.