I bought some shares in an investment trust last week and yesterday was writing up the trade. Idly turning back the pages I took a look at my first entry.
On 28th January 1970, when I was fifteen, I bought 200 shares in what had been my paternal grandmother’s family company, Jameson. They cost 14s 9d each so it was a hefty (for those days) £150 trade. I wonder if children my age were really supposed to buy and sell shares? I’d guess not but my grandfather had given me £200 for Christmas and after I’d bought a much-desired Grundig spool-to-spool tape recorder I had £150 left over to invest.
Fortunately I got into the habit of saving money and didn’t become addicted to buying Hi-Fi. The next share I bought was in April the same year, by when I’d turned sixteen.
I bought 100 shares in PJ Carroll at 13s 9d that cost me £70. As it was soon after my birthday I guess that I was investing my grandfather’s birthday present. In 1985, after fifteen years, I sold all my shares in PJ Carroll. They had cost me £140 and I made a profit of £900. Can you wonder that I’m an advocate of sensible longterm investment?
You know what Jameson’s do – I’ve a glass beside me right now – but if you haven’t lived in Ireland you may be foxed by PJ Carroll. They were a family firm (now owned by BAT) making Virginia cigarettes in Dundalk. They commissioned a stylish new factory in 1970.
Their lead brand was Sweet Afton, there’s a Burns connection to Dundalk – but they also made Carroll’s Number 1 and Major. You may recall that there was some product placement in Father Ted. I knew four generations of the family. Bru and Angela were page and bridesmaid at their weddings and then I donned velvet knickerbockers to take over from them. I was a popular choice as a page boy before I got spotty.
I’m not in the business of gushing about how very much me and my family like the Carrolls, so I’ll just say one thing that irked my grandfather. In my childhood at Barmeath there was always a full silver cigarette box – not least because my grandmother smoked – for guests. It was always filled with Carroll’s cigarettes but they invariably asked for Scotch whisky.
And did you know, latterly, Grace Carroll?…rather a grande dame. I blotted my copybook with her by once forgetting to come to lunch. After a very severe reprimand, I think I may have been forgiven.
Yes, I knew her well from a young age as she was friendly with my mother and grandparents. She let me shoot pigeons in her woods and I used to see her out hunting where she poured me generous measures of her sloe gin. There are some excellent pictures of Killineer on Robert O’Byrne’s blog of 13th June this year.