End of era as Peacocke's closes doors in Kilcullen
Ger Peacocke outside the shoe repairs shop which his late father Hugh had established in 1957
AN era has ended on Kilcullen's main street with the last remaining 'sole' trader closing the doors on a business that had been a fixture there for 67 years.
Ger Peacocke has retired the shoe repairs shop which his late father Hugh had established in 1957. Ger himself spent 48 years at the last on the battered bench in the shop, working with his father from 1976 until Hugh's retirement in 2008 after completing 65 years in total mending and making shoes.
Prior to opening the Kilcullen enterprise, Hugh had learned his trade at the National Slipper Company in his native Naas and subsequently with the famous Tuttys shoemakers there. The Kilcullen premises was bought for £75 after he had moved to Kilcullen with his wife Sheila, who hailed from Kennycourt outside the village.
At that time there were already three well-established shoe repair businesses in the village, but Hugh eventually saw them all down, mainly by offering a then innovative one-day repair service.
He also established a bespoke business in making leather shoes and boots which brought in customers from all over Ireland, and beyond, among them the then Irish Taoiseach Charles J Haughey.
Others included the peers Lord Waterford, Lord Hemphill and Lord Killanin, as well as Prince Aly Khan and his son Prince Aga Khan, and of course many less celebrated people who were nevertheless very discerning about their footwear quality and comfort.
Following Hugh's retirement and subsequent passing, Ger continued the business with a focus on repairs rather than the then in decline shoemaking. Even in the recent decades of essentially throwaway footwear, there has always been a trade, particularly from people in the equine business who value his expertise in repairing riding boots, as well as work from men and women who buy expensive shoes and need someone with the skills to keep them in the condition which such expense deserves.
Ger never changed the shop from what it had been in his father's time, which even as he closed the doors still retained deeply embedded smells of leathers and glue, and the marks from two generations of work at the scuffed bench set strategically inside the front window of the premises.
Very little of the happenings on Kilcullen's street, notoriously described by the 17th century writer Thackeray as 'straggling down one hill and struggling up another', went unnoticed.
Under both craftsmen, the shop was also an open door for any passing locals to drop in and discuss matters of none or great moment, leavened with observations made in the distinctive humorous way shared by both father and son.
It was also a mandatory stop for any politicians seeking Kilcullen votes at election time.
Cleared of machinery and materials over the preceding days — and maybe a few long-uncollected shoes? — the space had a strange sound as Ger picked up a hammer from the bench for the last time, with nothing to use it on. In retirement he still plans to work a couple of days a week from his home. But main street Kilcullen won't be the same.
