By Jon Kavanagh

These days it’s all too easy for our homes to become a twentieth century fortress; surrounded by a digital moat, rendering it necessary to make an appointment – preferably by text, when we wish to visit family or friends. The times when people walked in, using the password “Anyone at home?”, belong in the annuals of social history.

Yesteryear, the door was on the latch and the kettle on the hob. Scarcely a day would pass without someone dropping in for a cup of tea and a chat. Now, we drive SUV vehicles along the motorways at speeds that would scare Jeremy Clarkson, as we rush from one crisis to the next. Then, we leisurely travelled along the byroads of Fingal on high nelly bicycles, stopping off to socialise along the way. On seeing a familiar, if unexpected figure approaching, my mother would issue her call to arms, “Run to the shop and get a pound of cooked ham, a loaf and a fruit cake”.

Those delivering goods played an important role in more ways than one. The coalman, milkman, and postman/woman doubled jobbed as town criers; bringing news of births, deaths and marriages. And yes, the odd bit of gossip and scandal (guess who had one too many and lost his dentures on the way home from the pub on Sunday night) were exchanged. The coalman once took on the additional role of peace envoy, carrying messages of reconciliation between my mother and my aunt who were on non-speaking terms. Wielding the iconic case the local GP made house calls.

Lest I paint a picture of Utopia, visitors were not always awarded the fatted calf. I recall my father speaking a language I can’t repeat in a family magazine, on hearing the incoming footsteps of a local resident, who held a master’s degree in the art of making a nuisance of themselves. But by in large, those crossing our threshold were a welcome distraction to our day. Life has changed, we can’t, nor would necessarily we want to go back. But at a time when people can pass away, and not be discovered for months or even years, perhaps we all should be just a little more vigilant in our neighbourhoods.