Seamus leaves large boots to fill

INSIDE STORY: Six decades of service came to a conclusion just before Christmas as SEAMUS McENTEE retired from his cobbling business. He spoke to Thomas Lyons about the end of an era...

It’s the week before Christmas and Cavan town is abuzz with the festive feeling. The Shoe Repair Shop of Seamus McEntee has a knot of customers inside the door. It’s an unusual enterprise to experience this type of pre-holiday rush but the throng comprises of well-wishers more than service users.

A man shakes Seamus’ hand, turns to me and says: “His shop will be sadly missed,” before exiting into the December evening. Repaired footwear is handed over, people pass on best wishes as the business day comes to a close.
He chats about his business, zapping back to 1960 when a younger Seamus McEntee takes up his first job in Cavan Town.
He’s the newest of four cobblers working in the county town. In further-flung population centres, practitioners of the art ply the same trade. There’s one in Mullahoran, another in Ballinagh, one in Swanlinbar, two in both Belturbet and Bawnboy.
Beyond the county bounds, there are also cobblers in Oldcastle and Granard. In December 2019, the craft of shoe repair has, for the most part, been replaced by heel bars offering key cutting services. Yet the skill is still sought after: “I’ve honestly never been as busy,” Seamus says.
 

An attachment to shoes

In a disposable culture people somehow manage to develop an attachment to shoes. When comfortable footwear can have its life prolonged, then Seamus is your man.
“I will repair anything – school bags, jackets, anything that can be repaired,” he says. Though he talks in the present tense, he is leaving it all behind.
Two weeks before the business was due to close there were 300 pairs of shoes and boots of various description racked along the three shelves to the left of the counter of the repair business. By Friday’s visit, two days to ‘C day’, there are only seven pairs left.
“My wife said to me ‘you are 11 years retiring’, so I suppose it’s about time I did,” he tells.
It is easy to see why it took over a decade for Seamus to shut up shop. Not least is the craftsmanship he displayed as he deftly carves a sole into shape. The parings fall to the workbench joining many others to create an artisan patchwork from the detritus of his trade.
A casual observation might suggest Seamus is barely looking at his work. The finished article proves otherwise, as does the gaggle of customers arrayed around the counter.
The shop is a trove of artefacts of the cobbling craft. The antique Singer sewing machine from 1904 – a time when functional instruments could be things of beauty. There are other tools of his trade - the patcher, the stretcher, the awls, the ranger, the last anvil and the individual metal shoe lasts that speak of a bygone age. “That is the child’s last, the medium last and the men’s last,” he hefts the weighty objects in his hand with a practised familiarity.
Seamus gives lie to the expression ‘measure twice and cut once’, all the measuring of the past six decades have allowed him to bypass those steps. It’s experience. It’s also given him a unique customer service ethos.
He’s a born communicator. The banter in the shop is rapid fire: “Someone will come in, in your place,” one woman speculates.
“I doubt it,” Seamus replies.
“The women will miss you,” another voice suggests.
“He could always fill Bunnoe Hall,” a man chimes in.
“We had good fun in those days, but we were innocent too,” the cobbler clarifies.
The shop is brightly lit, but outside the cold winter’s evening is darkening. The people file out of the shop one by one.
“If the men of 25 years ago came back to do this job, they would not know what to do. The system is the same but the materials are completely different,” Seamus says as he finishes off the last job of the day.
The visitors, now all gone, were not there to mourn, but to celebrate, a joyous wake for the past 59 years.
Three weeks later the hustle and bustle of Christmas has past and Seamus is settling into the life of a retiree. We met up again and he started with a brief biography of how he got into the trade that would occupy much of his time for six decades.
“I’m 76 years of age,” he commenced, “I am 59 years working, 47 of them for myself. I started off in a place called St Joseph’s Orthopaedic Hospital in Coole. It’s a hospital for orthopaedics, but they also have workshops. They make frames for beds, they make orthopaedic legs, and orthopaedic boots and shoes. I did two and half years there and left and got a job in Cavan Town.”
 

Customer service

That apprenticeship granted him a licence to make the specialist footwear for the treatment of medical conditions. The licence led to employment: “I went for a job in Cavan Town with Jimmy Smith. I worked with him for six years. Then I took a job with Denis Connolly Shoe Repairs in Dundalk for a year. That’s where I learned about customer service. Even though you would be behind a bench you still had to engage with the customers. You made an effort to talk to them even though you are working away.
“One weekend I came home and Jimmy asked me to come back and work for him. I came back and then after a couple of years I set up my own business,” he tells.
Seamus’s genial good nature and customer service ethos are notable: “It’s about being honest with people, about telling them the truth. If I can’t do something for someone then I won’t. Honesty will go a long way in business. Your word is very important.
“My biggest business was women’s fashion. Lowering heels, wedding shoes, stretching, alterations, the list goes on,” he says insisting he treated every job the same. “I will give you a for instance. I got a pair of shoes from America one time. I opened the box and the price tag of $1,500 was on it. For a pair of shoes! But it’s the same service no matter what the price.”

Music man

Seamus is also well know as a musician: “My brother Eamon and myself were in business for about 25 to 30 years,” he recalls.
“There was a troop in Castletara called the Moonlight Players and they needed someone to play music at the breaks. Myself and another fellow from Ballyhaise, Joe Haise, sang a few songs at the break and the national anthem at the end. It evolved from that. I joined a few small groups, and I was with a band called ‘The Mountain Boys’. Then I had a band with Ian Pickens, before forming a band called ‘Country Times’ with Eamon.”
‘Country Times’ was much sought after: “The wedding band was the best. People are there to be entertained, not educated. It’s a wedding party, not a wedding dance. All that matters is the two families - you are there to bring them together and nothing else matters. You play what the people want.
“The best singer I ever played with was Ian Pickens I have never heard anyone so in tune - very good with an audience,” Seamus says of his former bandmate.
Three weeks into retirement, the cobbler is coming to terms with having more time on his hands: “Yesterday was the worst because it was raining all day. I had a bit of head cold, but I go with the flow. This morning I got up, small bit of breakfast, up to the shop, got The Anglo-Celt and sat down for an hour and a half and went through every bit of the paper. That was good. I am going on holidays in March for a few weeks I’ll come back after that and assess my options.”
After 59 years of service to the people of Cavan, Seamus deserves his down time.