After 70 years, a light in Cork retail goes out as John O'Flynn & Sons butchers closes

Every time a business like John O'Flynn & Sons butchers closes, we are moving closer to an utterly detached shopping experience devoid of any human contact. That is not progress

Patrick O'Flynn and Thomas Collins, of John O'Flynn & Sons, who were shortlisted for the Friendly Business Award, Marlboro Street, Cork. Picture: Jim Coughlan.

There is something special about the place you come from. The people, the streets, the stories, the shops, the history, it’s all in your DNA. Like growing up in Liverpool, New York, or Tokyo, the people, the way of life, the accent, the perspective you gain on the world, comes from those unique lived experiences you can only get from your hometown.

Being from Cork has always been something I am very proud of. Well, you rarely meet a Corkonian who doesn’t suffer with the vainglorious sense of being overly privileged, blessed even, to come up in a place like Cork.

Out of the wet landscape came really great people, Michael Collins, Rory Gallagher, Sonia O’ Sullivan, Roy Keane, Jack Lynch, and Frank O’Connor to mention a few. When the lonely Planet listed Cork as a top city, alongside, Abu Dhabi, Singapore, and Vancouver in 2010, it stated that Cork was, “at the top of its game: sophisticated, vibrant, and diverse”. No one in Cork was surprised. It’s like what Muhammed Ali said, “It’s not arrogance if it’s true”.

Cork is a special place. There is something utterly unique about the city. This Christmas I took a stroll around the streets of my childhood. I felt like Toto in ‘Cinema Paradiso’ returning to his hometown after some time away.

The city has changed a lot in 30 years. But the warm vibe is the same. You’re always bound to meet an old face, a friend walking around the city. I miss that living in a big city like Dublin.

As I languidly walked down Marlboro Street, I was struck by a sign: For Sale.

This wasn’t any old property, this was the master butcher, John O’ Flynn & Sons. I have been getting meat from John O’ Flynn & Sons for over 20 years. It’s one of those rare shops where you experience something more than just buying meat, you experience an old way of life when you step through the doors of the shop.

I remember my grandmother’s reaction when she heard The Green Door (an old Cork coffee shop) was closing down, I could see her feeling something was being lost, a way of life, a time that will never be repeated. I often sat with her, listening as she chatted with her friends over tea and cake. It was a communal experience, almost spiritual.

As I stood there looking through the big windows, at the long counters where, like a confessional, people have come for over 40 years to do more than simply buy meat, I finally knew what my grandmother felt. Something important was being lost.

Simon O'Flynn, Jackie Falvey, Patrick O'Flynn and Tom Collins, with their Irish Easter Lamb, at John O'Flynn & Sons, Butchers, Malboro Street, Cork. Picture: Jim Coughlan.

I often stood in that shop, listening as Patrick O’Flynn and his brother Simon regaled an entire shop of customers with stories and good humour. Watching as customer after customer left with a smile. Customers were there for more than just the specialised spiced beef (which I am going to miss), Kaisler, and handmade sausages (a regular feature at our breakfast table in Dublin).

They were there to chat, exchange platitudes about the weather, updates on their children and how their life was going. Therapy doesn’t just happen in a therapy clinic.

A master butcher who is a master communicator, changes how people feel. In our world of automated tills — “Place the bag in the bagging area’” — small, family-run businesses like John O’ Flynn & Sons are jewels, precious artifacts of a time gone by. And every time one closes, we are moving closer to an utterly detached shopping experience devoid of any human contact. That is not progress.

John O’ Flynn & Sons has been selling meat to Corkonians for over 70 years. Patrick’s father, Jackie, started the business during the Second World War. His sons joined him in the 1960s. The shop started out in the English Market but after the fire of 1980 they briefly moved to Princess Street, and then finally settled in Marlboro Street in 1981, where they have been ever since.

The shop itself is steeped in history, its first iteration was Cunningham’s, the pawn shop where James Joyce’s father pawned his false teeth. Next, was Picket’s the wig makers, then Fallon’s Bookshop, and then John O’ Flynn and Sons from 1981 to 2023.

I spoke with Patrick and he warmly recalled his first days working for his father, cycling rickety delivery bikes all over the city in a time before refrigeration. In those days people had safes outside for storage and flag stones in pantries for keeping the food cool.

Patrick recalled long working days, but enjoying them all. He told me it was with sadness that he had to, “hang up the knives”. Time has done its thing and caught up with Patrick and Simon. They are both extremely grateful to Jackie and Tom who worked in the shop for decades, helping to make it the success it has been down the years. Patrick has many stories to tell, perhaps his next venture is his memoire, “Life of a Master Butcher”. He’d have some stories to tell. Although he informed me that the secrets of his loyal Corkonian customers will never pass his lips.

I want to wish Patrick and Simon all the very best in their retirement, a light goes out in Cork retail, but your light shines on.