The Rubber Rock

Rubber Rock

On her return visit to Ireland my mother decided to venture beyond Cork, well beyond. She meant to see as much of her ancestral land as possible, to take in the sites and visit every possible landmark. My brother, Tom, did the driving and took care of photography. He seemed to come easily to driving on the other side of the road. That is a good thing as they drove exclusively on local roads and not highways. Any time either one saw a point of interest, they pulled over and Tom took more pictures. If a gift shop were visible, Mom would scurry inside and purchase some memento, which she would toss into a box in the back seat. Tom would then drive on down the road. They kept their eyes peeled for the oldest landmarks, ancient megaliths, standing stones. They had seen a few, but whether there were souvenir shops, there were no special gifts that replicated the stones in miniature. Hankies embroidered with shamrocks, yes.

Toward the end of the day they spied a tall, standing stone near the roadway. It was a spectacular menhir and Tom snapped shots from many angles. He lay on his back and took a shot up the shaft into the sky. The megalith seemed to sparkle, perhaps the stone contained mica. After photographing they decided to give the nearby gift shop a try. Maybe this one would be different. They caught the manager of the shop locking the door for the day. Sorry, she said, closed.

She likely had no mini menhir anyway. Maybe, they wondered if she might answer some questions?

What could she tell them about the big rock? How long has it been there?

The woman looked perplexed. “What rock? Where?”

They pointed at the menhir by the road.

“Oh,” she replied, “that's been there since 1978 and it's not a rock.
It's fiberglass, put there to attract tourists.” Apparently it still works.




Portrait by Mary O'Hare
of Annabel Kinnee
Standing before a famous
non-fiberglas Dolmen

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