To the Editor of The Limerick Echo:

I write to recount a poignant experience that unfolded at the railway station, a sight that etched itself deeply in my memory and calls for attention. While awaiting a friend’s arrival, my contemplation was seized by two pressing matters—the prevailing joblessness in Limerick, leaving our unemployed in dire straits, and the immense hardships endured by the impoverished. Suddenly, a haunting sound echoed, distant at first but growing more distinct, piercing my senses—a woman’s mournful wail. This inexplicable cry grew nearer, and as it intensified, it unveiled the heart-rending distress of those present.

A funeral? That was my initial thought. But as the sound drew closer, I understood the source of this heart-wrenching chorus—a sombre procession of people making their way towards the railway station. It was the departure of two young girls, embarking on a journey to America, their native city left behind. I joined the mournful assembly, abandoning my friend’s arrival. Together, we advanced, the cries of anguish swelling as each step took us closer to the station.

Finally, we reached the station. What had initially been a gathering of about a dozen grew to fifty. The two girls entered a carriage, their faces concealed by handkerchiefs. Standing by the carriage door, they held their mother’s hands, a scene of profound sorrow. I was introduced to them by a companion present to bid them farewell. Upon inquiry, one of the girls revealed their painful reason for leaving their mother—the factory where they worked chose to send work elsewhere, leaving them without a means to earn a fair wage. In response to my query about their wages, she disclosed that they sometimes earned six shillings a week, while on other weeks, the total dwindled to five or less. Her sister had moved elsewhere, hoping for better prospects, only to find herself subjected to fines for simply smiling or chatting with a colleague.

Their eyes would occasionally lift, meeting their mother’s gaze. Just as I was about to inquire further, the bell and whistle sounded, porters bellowed, “Look out there!” An anguished scene unfolded—the mother locked in an embrace with her daughters, the combined voices of young and old releasing an excruciating cry. The train departed, leaving behind an eerie silence, punctuated only by the barely audible sobs of friends left behind.

On the platform, the mother sat, the epitome of grief, evoking tears of empathy. The prevailing sentiment amongst those departing was that they would long carry this distressing image with them. I concur. What I witnessed will forever remain etched in my memory. In conclusion, those who exploit girls, denying them rightful wages and eroding their health through excessive labour, shall be held accountable in another realm. The meager wages some girls receive in our city hardly suffice for the basics of life.

In closing, I hope I haven’t overburdened your valuable space. I remain sincerely,

A Concerned Observer

Limerick Echo – Tuesday 20 February 1906