Growing up in the town, the Tech grounds held no mystery to us. It was part of our territory, bordered by the winding Glen river which was the artery that pumped life into our after-school playground. Many hours were spent lost in play, in and around the riverbank, under the bridge and in among the fir trees surrounding the school. We were always careful not to be seen by the Tech students who we feared as they were older and came from such strange town-lands as Gannew, Braid, Owenteskna and Leamagowra, far-away lands of which we knew nothing.
Our first day at Carrick Tech in Sep 74 was filled with both excitement and fear. The school which was only over 20 years old had long exceeded its original capacity with the original building now insulated by a row of prefabed classrooms. We entered through the main gates with more than a little trepidation. Young boys and girls feeling all grown up at the age of 12, this was our first step into another world, a world where we would develop our independence, one which would influence our direction in life.
We were separated into two groups, imaginatively called 1A and 1B. I’m unsure if we were streamed on the basis of our genius potential or simply in alphabetical order, although I’m sure for some, our final destination was determined by a short straw drawn in the teachers staff room.
Our first class on day one led us to prefab number 9 and the eclectic world of Sean McNelis. We spent the morning weighing ourselves and checking each others height. Later we would go on to learn how to count to ten in a number of exotic languages. We giggled with nervous laughter when Master Mc Nelis described our written work as ‘higglety-pigglety’ . This was certainly a long way from the the regimental authoritarian classroom of Master Ward from which we had escaped a few months earlier.
Moving classroom between each class was alien to us coming from a small three roomed national school where we sat at the same desk all day. This would take a bit of getting used to, but it certainly opened itself to much divilment as we scurried, soggen and book laden, between the grey-green prefabs which made up much of Carrick Tech in 1974.
Our next class of the day was Science with Danny Gillespie.  This was something new and exciting for us and as Master Gillespie had just started in the school, it all seemed pretty new and exciting to him too.  We huddled around teacher’s desk in amazement as we watched magnesium burn brightly and then awed in unison as we marvelled at mercury roll around the edges of a Petri dish. To our great disappointment we were advised that the press containing these magical wonders would be kept under lock and key when Master Gillespie was not about.
Our first break of the day allowed us to mingle with our new classmates and a chance to discover the grounds through our newfound student eyes. The student population of around 250 came mainly from the two parishes of Glencolmcille and Kilcar but also included a number of senior students who were bussed in from Killybegs where the vocational school had not yet been fully established. During the break the girls circled the main building in pairs, arm in arm, chatting about their day while keeping one eye on the boys, as we chased each other around in a mad teenage induced, hormone driven frenzy.
The Tech had little in the way of sports facilities at that time. There was what could be loosely described as a football field, below the school, running beside the riverbank. This was the scene of many a mud drenched battle. Soccer was the preferred game of choice. Our heroes were Charlton, Best, Law and the great Irish footballers, Steve Heighway and Pat Jennings. Due to the the lack of any formal soccer clubs in either parish, Gaelic was the game the tech would compete in and later become hugely successful at.
The car park doubled as a basketball court, which unfortunately only had one basket, propped up against Master Boyle’s prefab. We had to learn to dribble while trying to avoid the teacher’s pride and joy sheltering under the row of evergreens. Even with this handicap, we managed to fine-hone our skills, under the guidance of the sporting genius who was Barry Campbell. Basketball was my preferred sport. On one occasion we travelled to Letterkenny and trashed the much fancied St Eunan’s college U-16’s in our first basketball blitz. Our team included John Doogan, Alan Erskine, the late Martin McIntyre and the inimitable Martin McHugh who proved his amazing ability to weave between players was transferable to any sport he played.
After the break, we moved to prefab number 14 and the wonders of History with Master Brendan Boyle.  Brendan, who was hard of hearing, whizzed around the room, never sitting still for a moment, chalk flicking, blackboard duster spinning, left hand cocked to his ear hoping to catch our responses while threading a coin in and out between the fingers of his right hand. We had not experienced History been taught with such gusto before, nor had we experienced it been taught through English before. Having learned subjects such as History and Geography through Irish in primary it felt like we were learning the basics all over again, albeit at a speed of knots.
Mrs Una Beirne was our French teacher. We sat in a dark classroom, black curtains drawn, girls on one side, boys on the other, as we were introduced to the audio enabled, black and white world of Monsieur et Madame Thibault. Unfortunately, French was not one of my strengths and I never did get to use the one lasting phrase I learned in that class, “excusez-moi s’il vous plaît madame”
Mrs Beirne was married to Padraig Beirne who was the Principal of Carrick Tech at that time. Master Beirne was our first Irish teacher and we were quite nervous to have the Principal on our first day. He was a small, quiet unassuming, red-faced man who unfortunately passed away suddenly during our second year in the school.
At lunch time, for us townies, it was off, back up home for a quick bite. We didn’t hang about long at home. There was no time for a grilling from our parents as to how our first day was going. Those who had been bussed into the urban bustle that was Carrick, depended on sandwiches, usually wrapped in tinfoil or yesterday’s Duncan’s loaf wrapper. The lucky few who could afford it, headed off to the chippy, run back then by local entrepreneur Gerry Kennedy. The chippy also hosted table football and the Xbox of its day, a space invaders machine.  This den of iniquity was the hub of life for the youth of Carrick for many years.
After lunch, we moved to prefab number 10 and the world of poetry and English classics under the guidance of Charlie McGarvey. On occasions, Master McGarvey, whose passion for the subject was evident to those who cared to notice, seemed lost in thought as he drifted off into his own world, eyes on the sky outside,  ‘enwrought with golden and silver light,’ seemingly unaware of this prefab full of rowdy students. Although it was many years before I’d truly appreciate some of the writings we studied there, I grew to love creative writing and appreciated the encouragement I received.
Our Irish teacher after the passing of Master Beirne was Micheal McGinley. Master McGinley was easy going and tried his best to explain the ‘modh coinniollach’ among other conjugated grammatical conundrums, but I never did get it. Micheal’s favourite line was “for the benefit of those” which led to my first boyish venture into joke writing…”why did the fart smell” ? “for the benefit of those who can’t hear” I struggled with Irish as a subject, largely due to it being beaten into us at primary school. Thankfully, corporal punishment ended when we left national school although the effects remained in our memories well into adulthood.
Our busy timetable of new subjects was interrupted by one which many of us had hoped we’d left behind at national school. Religion seemed out of place in this new environment, no more so than when we spent a full class with Fr McDyer learning to bless ourselves, over and over.
The day finished with a double class, Woodwork for the boys with Barry Campbell and Home Economics for the girls with Maire McConagle.
In Woodwork we were introduced to well worn mallets, dull chisels and tenon saws as we set about creating our first piece of fine furniture. Although I’d come from a building background and been around timber and tools all my life, I don’t think I managed to perfect the mortise and tenon joint in my years there. In hindsight, the Home Economics class may have prepared some of us boys better for the life ahead.
There were a few teachers we wouldn’t have until we had completed our first state exam, the now defunct Group Cert. These included Sean Burke, Maths, who always left a mark, usually with the sharp end of a large compass. Tony O’Malley, Economics, who explained, in economic terms, why we appreciate the last square of chocolate most. Bart Whelan, Construction Studies, a man of great wit, who managed to look exactly the same on the day he retired as he did on his first day in the school, and finally Gerry Breslin, Technical Drawing, whose sense of discipline and order brought a great dignity to the role of Principal during the rest of our years there.
Carrick Vocational School, later to be renamed Scoil na Carraige, always punched well above it’s weight. This was evident in the standard of academic achievement of the students passing through its corridors, many who went on to make a significant mark in their respective fields of interest. Carrick also made a huge impact on the sporting fields where it far outshone many of the larger schools and colleges around the country. The sense of pride that these sporting achievements brought to the school allowed us all to walk a little taller.
As students we may not have appreciated it at the time, but the teaching staff in Carrick were instrumental in guiding its students to the success both on and off the field.
Our first day had been one filled with new experiences. One where we’d made new friends, for many, friends for life.  A day when, for some, our direction in life shifted, forever. We’d become part of a community of which we’d have many moments, both good and bad, that would stay with us throughout our lives.

Ciaran Cunningham