Removals company that's moved with the times

Trade Names: A Dún Laoghaire removal firm has been changing and adapting since it was set up over 100 years ago

Trade Names: A Dún Laoghaire removal firm has been changing and adapting since it was set up over 100 years ago. Rose Doyle talks to its third generation owner

Running a removal business has taught George Stevens an awful lot about the way we live. He can pinpoint housing trends, the social ups and downs of the city's southside boroughs, changing décor styles, fashions in furniture. A lifetime observing hasn't dimmed his enthusiasm, ever made him wish to be anything other than the third generation person to look after G A Stevens & Son Ltd.

"The removal business is a great eye-opener on life," he says. "You might move people over a 30-year gap so you see how life has affected them. Time's a great leveller. You learn a huge amount about people and most are terrific. This," he concludes, "is a business you've got to be dedicated to."

His grandfather, also George Stevens, was pretty well dedicated to the business from the start. That was in 1896, in 2 Northumberland Avenue, Dún Laoghaire, from where the business operated for 100 years. A need for more space brought a move to Bray's Southern Cross Business Park a few years ago.

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"We were cabinet-makers and upholsterers to begin with" - today's George Stevens loves to tell a story - "with furniture removals the third string in the bow. There wasn't the population or movement you have now so it wouldn't have been enough. My grandfather was from Achill and he bought 2 Northumberland Avenue in 1902 because it had stabling for horses. I grew up there. He did the removals in horse-drawn carts. He died in 1935 and my father, Harry, took on the mantle."

Harry Stevens, who had two brothers, Joe and George, was only 19 when his father died. He told his son how it was "a day's work" to go into Dublin with the horses. "Business was local for a long time," George says, "mostly moving flats in Longford Terrace, Clarinda and Croswaithe parks, Royal Terrace, all those places. There was a lot of movement from one flat to another in big Victorian houses."

An accounts book for 1896 shows where a Mr Coall of Clarinda Park had a table castor repaired for 3/-, a Mrs Silchester of Silchester House had a piano stool covered for 7/6d and a Lady Sanderson got a sash rope for 1/6d. A 1911 map of Kingstown carries an ad for "G.A.Stevens, Cabinet Maker and Upholsterer" with the legend that "furniture repairs of all kinds will be accomplished, furniture removed, window blinds made to order and hair mattresses recovered". "All of that was the norm then," George Stevens says, not without pride.

Harry Stevens, during the second World War years, used yearly move two sisters and their trunks from Grosvenor Terrace, Monkstown, to the Salthill Hotel, Monkstown for their two weeks annual holiday. The company used collect the coins from the Bank of Ireland in College Green too, for distribution to the banks in Dún Laoghaire. They came in £10 sacks, with 2,400 copper coins, weighing two stone each.

Houses in Crostwaithe Park sold for £70 each in the 1930s because no one had the money to maintain them. "It was a different world," George Stevens says. "People moved into houses when they married and stayed in them. Growing up on Northumberland Avenue in the 1950s we used go up and down the road in trolleys and play football."

Change came in the 1960s. "Silchester Park was developed in the 1950s and then they developed Kill Avenue, Johnstown Road, Rochestown Park, Glenageary. There was a huge expansion in Dún Laoghaire from the mid-1960s on. They knocked down Grosvenor Terrace to make way for the shopping centre. That was criminal. They knocked down the lovely copper domed Ulster Bank on the corner of Upper George's Street and Marine Road. They changed the place completely."

Habits changed too. People began renting flats while they saved for houses.

"By 1972, when I joined, the business was all in houses," George says. "The first custom-built block of apartments to sell in Dublin was in St John's Road, Sandymount. You had Mespil and others before that but they were rented by Irish Life. St John's Road was the first time you could buy a piece of a building." He thinks about this, and sighs. "I've seen huge changes in my lifetime. In just 40 years."

The 1970s were "brilliant. Things became more relaxed, people had a few bob in their pockets. The property scene was very good from 1967 to 1977 and from 1987 to 1991 was a good period too.

"Since 1995, it's gone off the wall altogether! It's unprecedented to have a boom in property for over 10 years. Houses in Ballinclea Heights sold for £5,500 in 1967. Now they sell for about €800,000. You could buy a good house for £100,000 in 1995. There's been a boom for us too, of course, with the business just mushrooming."

The property market has driven other changes too. People live differently in their houses.

"Everyone's gone for the minimalist look. A lot of people remake Victorian houses, emptying them and storing the old furniture. Some don't bring back the old stuff at all, just refurnish."

Minimalist doesn't mean people own less however.

"Wardrobes might be built-in but they're still filled with belongings. Years ago people would take robes with everything in them but now we have to pack what's in them. People have an awful lot of goods and chattels. Years ago, you'd bring 20 boxes to do a move, now you'd bring anything up to 100 cartons. Years ago too, virtually everything was on the kitchen dresser. Now all four walls are laden with goods-filled cupboards. Stuff starts to come out of everywhere! Children have far more toys too."

Fashions change without warning. "Antiques came in huge in the 1970s and 1980s but now, unless it's very, very good, almost fine art, no one's buying. The other thing that changed was the increase in moves to the UK and Europe. Our customers are going down to Spain and Portugal now.

"Marriage break-ups can be sad and they're a no-win situation and much more difficult to deal with than other moves. Some are just about score settling."

He shakes a non-comprehending head. "I've a container stored for over five years as the result of a marital dispute that's still going on in the courts."

The removal business is not easy, he says. "It's very personalised. You're actually taking a home apart, especially if people have lived there a long time, 30-40 years or more. The move can be very traumatic and you'll see women crying. I remember a woman years ago buying a bottle of gin and singing happily at 11am. It was her way of dealing with us, and the move. You learn an awful lot about people in this business. The stress means you probably see them at their worst. You have to be a calming influence because of the situation they're in at that point."

What are the big lessons he's learned then? "To keep my mouth shut," he grins, "and not to hassle people on the day of the move."

And what advice has he for those about to call in the removal company?

"Get rid of stuff you don't want before we arrive." He's precise. "If you want overnight bags put them aside so they can be sourced immediately in the new house. If goods are going to different locations have them separated before we arrive. Be in the new house to tell us where to place the furniture." He gives another grin. "It's a good idea, too, if the builders are finished building before we come in!"

He's easy about the future of G A Stevens, his son, Gary, and daughter, Lynn, to make up their own minds about whether they want to take over the business. "Gary's worked here for all his summer holidays but his interests lie elsewhere," he says, "and Lynn helps out but she's just finishing college. There are about a half dozen working in the business at the moment and that's about right. We've never wanted it to be too big."