When the young Carl Nielsen arrived from Copenhagen to Tubbercurry on January 5th, 1955, his command of the English language extended to no more than the odd catch phrase from Hollywood movies of the time. His wife, Sonja, could hardly muster a word at all, having to resort to an English dictionary when shopping in the local stores.

But, music being an international language, the couple's difficulties with the spoken word scarcely mattered, as they quickly settled into what must have been an oddly strange way of life in rural South Sligo.

On his first day at work in the fledgling Basta factory in that first month of 1955, the 24 years toolmaker could never have imagined that more than half a century later a huge crowd of family, friends and 'fans' would gather in his honour to help him celebrate his 80th birthday.

That such an event took place at the Harp Tavern last week speaks volumes for the indelible mark which Carl Nielsen has carved in Sligo folklore through more than 50 years of music making, initially with the Clifonaires Showband on the national circuit and for longer than he cares to remember with the legendary Jazz Ladds.

This particular Great Dane's association with Sligo came about when his brotherin-law, entrepreneur Sven Petersen, suggested that he follow him here.

Carl had never heard of the county and knew precious little of the country, recalling how he consulted his younger sister's geography school book to ease his curiosity.

"I sort of knew Ireland was the island behind England, that was about it. In the geography book, it said Ireland had a sub tropical island with beautiful palm trees. I thought, how beautiful, no more cold," he recalls.

The fertile imagination of the writer of that particular text book was soon exposed, as Carl arrived in Tubbercurry to find the place covered in a few inches of snow.

"I had never been as cold in my life. I wondered what country that geography book was referring to. It certainly wasn't Tubbercurry!", Carl remembers.

But it wasn't just the weather that was vaguely familiar --the embracing friendliness of the local community was pleasingly welcoming.

"The people were fantastic from day one. I would especially mention the late Jim Durkin, who was like a Guardian Angel to us. Their friendliness made us feel right at home, so much so that there was no difficulty settling in, and it's been the same ever since," he proudly reports.

After four and a half years in Basta, Carl moved to work for the newly opened Hanson factory in Sligo town, but a much more momentous change occurred in 1957, when he met a certain group of musicians for the first time.

It was hardly on the scale of the meeting of John and Paul at Wooton Garden Fete in Liverpool that same year but, in local terms, the day Carl met Paraic Potter, Mickey Brennan, Peadar and Pearse Leonard in the canteen at Basta was the day an enduring musical legend was born.

Carl had been a trumpet player with a brass band in his native Copenhagen, but had not been given very much opportunity to continue his musical interests since his arrival in Sligo.

When the newly formed Clifonaires blasted their way through a medley of standard jazz classics and hits of the day, the Danish trumpet player knew he had found kindred spirits.

"They were amazing musicians. I remember somebody joking at the time that if they had a few fiddles they'd be perfect!

"They were just starting out, but they were very, very good. I can't remember rightly if they asked me to join or whether I put myself forward, but anyway it was the beginning of a great friendship. I've been with them ever since --with no time off for good behaviour!", Carl quips.

He gave up the day job to become a full time musician as the Clifonaires toured the highways and byways of the country and far beyond, happily picking up new tunes and new friends in equal measure, playing alongside the likes of Bernie and Eddie Brennan, Sean Hunt, Sean Haran, Frank and Martin Brennan, and later with Roddy Gillen, Robert Burnsides, John Healy, Denis Phelan, and Eddie McFarlane.

"I had never played jazz music before coming to Sligo. I remember playing with Joe Burns' brass band and that was more like what I was used to. With the band, I had to learn new tunes very quickly, but it was easy enough to pick them up from the radio.

"We had terrific times together, and the music was definitely a great help in helping myself and my family to settle here. It's hard to believe it all started more than fifty years ago. I think we're still playing as well as ever," he says.

These days, Carl can be heard blowing his trumpet in his own inimitable style with the Jazz Ladds at their weekly Sunday morning session at the Harp, where more than 100 friends, fans and family gathered to throw a surprise 80th birthday party last week.

"I will never be caught like that again," he swears. "I thought we were going for a quiet meal. But it was a lovely night, great to see so many friends and recall old times --and the music wasn't too bad."

Retirement is not a word he has yet mastered: "I can't imagine what my life would have been like without music, so I can't imagine not doing it."

His musical talent has been passed on to his sons, Peter and Michael, although Peter has long since given up performing. Michael, on the other hand, has become one of Europe's finest exponents of jazz guitar playing.

"I used to play guitar myself, but I wouldn't be good enough to turn the pages for Michael. He's an exceptional player. My own father was a sailor and a good accordion player, so there has always been music in the family, and it's good to see it being passed on," Carl says.

Whenever one meets Carl and asks him how he is, his standard reply, in an accent which still bears the hallmarks of his homeland, is: "I think I'm fine."

He need not think. This charming, modest man is indeed fine. One of the finest. Tillykke med fodselsdagen!

- JIM GRAY