Following a week of recollections, readers were invited to submit their top moments from half a decade of Irish TV history – here’s a selection

THE FIRST was the occasion on The Late Late Showwhere a man sang off-key intentionally. It was a set-up but poor Gay was unaware. Brilliant to watch Gay keep a straight face while he sang his heart out badly.

The other was a most beautiful film called Mr Sing My Hearts Delightabout a woman in a remote part of Ireland, Donegal I think, who allows a travelling vendor into her poorhouse and is amazed by the wonders in his case. It was shown years and years ago (when I was a child) but I can still recall its magic.

– Margaret Donohue

My favourite TV moment was on July 20th, 1969 – the first manned moon landing. The Gaeltacht, Coláiste Lurgan, Contae na Gaillimhe, was where I and many others were spending a month to learn Irish while Apollo 11was on course to complete its mission. No speaking of English, no company keeping, lights out at 11pm, rules are rules. The house we stayed in had a TV, what luck! How could a bunch of young lads miss watching the first moon landing? The solution was to creep down to the kitchen at 2am and turn the TV on. Houston, we've made it to the kitchen. Telly on. Next, a blank telly. No foreign influence here – Fear an Tí caught us red-handed, took the fuse out and left us on the dark side of the moon.

– Frank Molloy

“What are you doing?” “I’m building an airport.” I distinctly remember this exchange on RTÉ1 between the late Monsignor James Horan and the retired western correspondent for RTÉ, Jim Fahy. As a schoolgoer in the West of Ireland in the early 1980s, I didn’t know who Monsignor Horan was, but I remember his determination and had no doubt this man would deliver Knock International Airport (now Ireland West), despite his “foggy bog” project being widely ridiculed.

My other vivid memory of the 1980s also involved Knock Airport and Jim Fahy. How I would love to see the crying mammies and stoic daddies welcoming their sons and daughters home from London for Christmas. A week later, more tears – waving them off to Luton, Stansted or Heathrow. I wondered if I, too, would be on those flights from Knock when it was my time to leave school. Unfortunately, we have come full circle again.

– Christina Hession

The Late Late Showoffered a great piece of TV when Christy Moore randomly joined Eamonn Andrews's daughters, Emma and Niamh. He later did Nancy Spainand dedicated it to their father. There is a moment where the two young women eye each other as Christy sings, his eyes probably closed in the intensity he brings to such tasks. TV can be ephemeral and visually can often lack substance. In these few minutes, though, sparks "jumped the gap" and left one lasting image that said more about "family" than five decades of all hues and shades of headbangers on our screens.

– Eugene McGloin

On The Riordans(in 1969 or 1970) when the Traveller couple Eamonn and Eily had just got married, Eamonn confided to Benjy that he wasn't sure how to "do it". The nation held its breath as we waited to see if Benjy would give a full explanation of procreation on national television. I can't remember his exact words but he guffawed and said it was nothing to do with the belly button anyway.

– N Rowan

I am living in Britain for over 30 years and still enjoy RTÉ via long wave radio and player. I was five years old when RTÉ TV was launched and it was a great moment in our lives for as we grew up in the 1960s, we were hoping for the day when we had a TV. The big talking point was the looking forward to or the morning after chat of "what did you think of Trampas last night in The Virginian"? Prior to getting our own TV, we spent many a Sunday afternoon watching three TVs in the window showroom of RTV Rentals – three TVs but no sound. My dad made a corner shelf for the new TV when it arrived and there was a trend of watching TV with the lights off – for our home cinema experience.

– Gerry Molumby

One of my most memorable TV moments was on Glenroe. Teasy McDaid's (Maureen Toal) husband had been missing for some time and presumed dead. She had married Dinny Byrne (Joe Lynch). One night, just as the episode was ending, Teasy was alone in the bar, cleaning up. There was a knock at the door. Teasy opened it and in stepped her "dead" husband Sylvie Dolan (David Kelly). The credits rolled and we had to wait until the next episode to see what would happen. It was a wonderful, theatrical moment.

– Sheelagh Coyle

It was the year 1996 and according to Gay Byrne, Oasis were “the biggest band on the planet”. Their leader, Noel Gallagher, brought up by Irish parents in Manchester, was on the show after a sell-out gig in the Point. Noel explained to Gay he had been told to go on the show by his mother, who was off celebrating with her other son (and Oasis frontman) Liam and their Irish family. What is so astounding watching the interview is how mild-mannered and polite this rock’n’roll star is. In Gay’s company he is like a tepid nephew being coaxed by his favourite auntie. Noel explains how he enjoyed a few quiet pints in a pub on Leeson Street the night before, and then refers to the fact his family are having a ball while he is fulfilling the band’s duty to their mother. The audience sympathises with a chorus of “Awwws”. “But don’t worry,” Gaybo announces. “As your Mother would say, ‘You’ll get your reward in heaven’.”

– Brian Morrissey

Unexpectedly emotional moment: The national anthems, England vs Ireland rugby match, Croke Park, 2007.

Most horrific moment: Watching the ensuing events after a car driven by plain clothes British soldiers drove into the funeral procession of one of the victims of Michael Stone’s attack at Milltown cemetery, Belfast, March 1988.

Iconic moment: Watching as the second plane hit, New York, September 11th, 2001.

Personal best: Rory reading out my letter on Wanderly Wagon,Saturday, Granny's sittingroom, circa 1970.

– Karen McDonnell

“You’ll need your coat, gloves and a warm hat, ’tis snowing out – but there’s history in the air tonight,” my Dad said. On New Year’s Eve 1961 we had a cold trudge from Garryowen to William St, blowing into our cupped hands on deserted streets. Staring at a real television set for the first time in my 11 years, I marvelled at the silver-screened box; not much bigger than our Pye radio, it was perched in the middle of Jackie Brosnahan’s shop window. My father translated the child-boring speeches, but the highlights of the opening night – showing local bias – were the antics of “Limerick’s own” Tom and Paschal. We shivered and watched for an hour, chewing Cleeves toffee and Peggy’s Leg before rushing excitedly home to answer mother’s questions. Dad remarked on the “poor reception” but I prefer my version – snow on the street and snow on the telly.

– Noel Brennan

I'm 55 and grew up in one-channel world in Co Kilkenny. All of the bought in programmes on RTÉ – Skippy, Lincoln Vail of the Everglades, Richard Green in Robin Hoodwere swashbuckling adventures from sunny foreign lands with great singalong signature tunes. Then we were brought back to earth by Blaithín and Wanderly Wagon. And who'll forget Seoirse agus Bartley? But the worst part of childhood television was the cartoons – if that's what you could call them. Every cartoon had to originate from behind the Iron Curtain; Czechoslovakia was the worst, with Bulgaria not far behind. There's certainly a book waiting to be written on children's television in the 1960s. Failing that, a tribunal to be set up.

– Finbar Walsh