Noted local historian dies

(A slightly edited version of this obituary was published in the Irish Times, May 17th 2014)

by Anton McCabe

Seamus Harkin – born April 2^nd 1935, died May 2^nd 2014

Seamus Harkin from Creeslough, Co Donegal, who has died after a short illness, was a historian of his home area, and a collector of its folklore. He was also a musician, songwriter, undertaker, and community activist.

Harkin was born near Creeslough in March 1935, third of five children to Hugh Harkin, a small farmer, and his wife Annie (née Harkin). His formal education in Faugher National School ended at 14. He worked first as a farm labourer: for the Forestry Commission: then with Donegal County Council. He progressed to becoming an insurance agent. That job forced him to develop his writing skills.

He left insurance for the first of his life’s callings, as a solo entertainer playing the pub scene. He combined this with writing songs. One of his last was ‘There is no towbar on the back of a hearse’. The guitar was his life-long instrument. As he became older, he also played the fiddle increasingly: that had been his father’s instrument. He collected and restored old fiddles.

In the 1980s, he learnt how to use a computer. This was after a local national school obtained its first computers.  He attended the few introductory classes, then worked to  develop his skills.

That opened the door to a career as a writer. His work dealt with the life of his home area. It included an edition of the English and Irish works of local poet Niall Mac Giolla Bhríde: Harkin’s own autobiography “It took a lifetime”: and ‘Hallowed Halls’, a book of photographs of every church of every denomination in the diocese of Raphoe.

Round the time he was familiarising himself with computers, he found his third calling. The undertaker in Creeslough died and he took over the business. He had the skill of being able to find the right words of comfort at a difficult time.

Harkin was a man of many other parts. In his community, he worked to develop housing for the elderly, and a day centre, and keep Faugher National School open. In 2011 he was Donegal Rehab Person of the Year. Last year, he was Age Action Silver Surfer of the Year, recognition of his status as a digital native.

He is survived by his wife Tessie; daughter Edel and sons Leo, Mark, Paul and James; sisters Mary and Nora; and brother Hugh. He was predeceased by his son Paschal and brother John.

What future for Irish language journalism?

(A slightly amended version of a piece first published in The Irish Journalist, March 2014)

by Anton McCabe

Irish language journalism is facing serious difficulties, with there being no stand-alone national Irish language weekly paper. Three newspapers have been closed over the past half-dozen years after Foras na Gaeilge (the Cross-Border Irish language body) withdrew funding.

The Foras is currently examining applications for the contract for an Irish-language weekly online newspaper. All material is to be available free. According to application documents, it must be “primarily based on written reporting and written comment,” and provide both national and regional news. This contract would last for four years. The successful publisher will receive €300,000 per year.

Between 2008 and 2013, the Foras ended the contracts of three newspapers.

First to go in 2008 was the daily Lá Nua, published by the Belfast Media Group. The publishers proposed that it made economic sense to make it available free online, rather than distributed as a paid-for title through shops. The Foras rejected this. “If the plan to publish Lá Nua online is proceeded with, this equates to breaking the contract with Foras na Gaeilge, and if the contract is broken Foras na Gaeilge will not be able to continue with the agreed funding,” Foras Chief Executive Ferdie Mac an Fhailigh said at the time.

Connemara-based Foinse was a casualty the following year. In 1996 it won the tender to provide a weekly newspaper. It achieved significant name-recognition, and was recognised as providing high-quality journalism. At one stage it sold 4,000 copies per week However, it ceased publication for a time in 2009 in a funding dispute with the Foras.

Foinse applied to extend its contract for a further four-year term. However, this was awarded to Gaelscéal, a joint venture between the Connacht Tribune and Eo Teilifís. The Gaelscéal bid had proposed a target of 6,000 weekly sales within three years. This sales target was clearly unrealisable: Foinse, despite building up name recognition, had not achieved this in more prosperous economic times. An added obstacle to the sales target was that, as a condition of the contract, Gaelscéal was to make the paper available online free of charge three days after publication. When awarding the contract in 2009, Mac an Fhailigh said the standard of applications was very high: “We are pleased to offer the contract to Torann na dTonn Limited, a joint venture between the Connacht Tribune and Eo Teilifís, who have years of experience in the Irish media.” At the start of last year, the Foras withdrew the contract from Gaelscéal – on the basis that the sales target had not been met. It would be fair to say that Gaelscéal had not been to everyone’s taste, with an emphasis on hard news. There was an undercurrent of criticism from some in the Irish language community who saw aspects of its coverage as too controversial. The Foras subsequently launched a period of public consultation regarding future publications.

In further moves at the end of June, the Foras to end funding for monthly magazines Feasta and an tUltach, and news and information website Gaelport.

These closures leave Irish as one of the few significant European minority languages without a stand-alone weekly newspaper. The Irish Times publishes a broadsheet page each Wednesday. This suffers from the drawback of only being one page: and by the Irish Times not having the Northern market penetration it once had. Also on Wednesdays, the Irish Independent publishes ‘Seachtain’ as an insert. It benefits from having some experienced journalists, though has  to concentrate on the schools’ market. It suffers from the Independent’s weak penetration in the North.

In this situation trade unionists must be concerned about the number of journalists’ jobs that have been lost.

There must also be wider societal concerns. The existence of a media is important for any language and culture to develop. According to the censuses of 2011, over 40% of people in the Republic have some knowledge of Irish: and almost 14% in the North.

Irish language broadcasting is reasonably healthy, but there is a need for the written word. In promoting that, there is no evidence of a consistent strategy from the Foras. As Oscar Wilde said: "To lose one parent may be regarded as a misfortune; to lose both looks like carelessness."

It takes time for a print title, or website, to gain recognition. With no stand-alone Irish language weekly for the past year, the readership has lost the habit of buying a paper, and it will take time for them to develop the habit of logging into the new online paper.

This will have to bring together a new staff. Those who worked on Lá Nua, Foinse and Gaelscéal have mostly scattered. New journalists will need time to build up contacts, and develop an understanding of the issues in the Irish language sector. As a freelance contributor to Gaelscéal from its inception, I know the difficulties the (mostly) inexperienced staff faced in doing so. They were successful, but hampered

by the lack of continuity.

That lack of continuity will hamper Tuairisc, the new online newspaper. The Foras is funding this, and it is due to go online in late summer – with there being no newspaper in the 18 months since Gaelscéal closed.

This gap is particularly unfortunate as there are issues regarding the Irish language that are of particular interest to the Irish language community (to the extent such exists), and have to be examined. These are issues such as education, and whether a ‘total immersion’ (in Irish) approach is best, or a bilingual approach: the status of Gaeltacht areas: and the future of Irish-language ‘Third Sector’ organisations after the Foras’ ‘Samhail Nua Maoinithe’ (New Funding Mode).

Given its particular situation, Irish language media mostly needs subsidisation. This is not unique in the media. RTÉ and BBC are both publicly-funded because of their public service remit. The Broadcasting Authority of Ireland’s Broadcasting Funding Scheme was established to ‘provide funding in support of high quality programmes on Irish culture, heritage and experience’, and adult literacy, to local commercial and community stations. The sums involved in funding Irish-language media are small, and add to the cultural richness and diversity of society.

Declaration of interest: I have worked for Lá Nua, Foinse, Gaelscéal and An tUltach.

Linda Ervine - on a journey with the Irish language 

(first published An tUltach February 2014)

le hAnton Mac Cába

Ar Bhóthar Bhaile Nua na hArda Íochtarach i mBéal Feirste, tá múrmhaisithe dílseacha ar go leoir beann tí, brat na Breataine ar foluain.

Ar an bhóthar seo tá tionscadal nua Gaeilge, An Turas, a spreag Misean Oirthir Bhéil Feirste den Eaglais Modhach. Buaileann Linda Ervine liom ag doras Lár-Ionad Skainos, lár-ionad trasphobalach a spreag an Misean. Tá Linda ina hOifigeach Gaeilge ag an Mhisean. Tógann sí aníos mé chuig an dorchla atá ag An Turas, dorchla mar a bhfuil na comharthaí as Gaeilge, an-bhród uirthi astu.

Más bean bheag í Linda, tá an-fuinneamh innti. Rugadh agus tógadh í in oirthear Bhéil Feirste, gan móran teangmhála aici leis an Ghaeilge. “Ach, cosúil le go leoir Protastúnach, bhí riamh rud beag suime agam ann,” ar sise. Bhí fhios aici gurb ann dó. “Is dócha go raibh mé orthu siúd a shíl gur ‘trá’ a bhí ar achan trá i nDún na nGall,” ar sise, ag gáire.

Trí bliain ó shoin, d’eagraigh an Misean cúrsa trasphobalach sé seachtaine le blaiseadh a thabhairt ar an Ghaeilge, Gàidhlig, agus Ultais. Chuir an cúrsa sin casadh ina saol. “Thit mise i ngrá leis an Ghaeilge,” ar sise. “Sin an t-aon dóigh amháin go dtig liom cur síos air.” I ndiaidh di an blaiseadh seo a fháil, chuaigh sí ar dian-cúrsa ar An Droichead ar Bhóthar Ormeau i mBéal Feirste.

Agus Linda ag freastal ar ranganna ag an Droichead, d’fhoilsigh roinnt nuachtán an scéal go raibh, mar gur deirfiúr céile David Ervine í.  Luadh Misiún Oirthir Bhéil Feirste, beart a bhí ina ábhar imní. “Ansin, tháinig rabharta glaochanna fóin – an dtig linn clárú sna ranganna Gaeilge agaibh?” ar sise. Níorbh ann do na ranganna.

D’iarr an Misean uirthi bheith ina h-éascaitheoir. Cuireadh rang ar bun, gan poiblíocht. Tháinig scór, an seomra ró-bheag dóibh. Mhol Cearál Ní Cuilín di buaileadh le Foras na Gaeilge, rud a rinne. Cruthaíodh post mar Oifigeach Gaeilge leis an Mhisean, post a fuair Linda ag deireadh 2012. Nuair a thosaigh sí, bhí rang amháin ann. Anois, tá seacht gcinn.

Tá an Ghaeilge mar chuid dá ndílseachas ag roinnt daoine sa cheantar. Ní mar sin d’achan duine. “Tá eagla ar dhaoine thart anseo roimh an Éireannachas,” arsa Linda. “Ní thuigeann siad cad is Éireannachas ann. Smaointím ar Phrotastúnaigh mar Éireannaigh go ndearnadh dearmad orthu.” Ní mar sin a bhí cúrsaí i gcónaí. “Sula ndearnadh an Críoch-Deighilt, ní raibh fadhbanna ag Protastúnaigh leis an Éireannachas, d’amharc siad orthu féin mar Éireannaigh,” ar sise. Tá siad ag rá gur coimhthigh ina dtír féin iad nuair a deir siad gur ‘Breatainaigh’ iad. “Is seo mo thír dhúchas,” arsa Linda. “Rinneamar an tír seo. Is Éireannach mé, b’fhéidir go bhfuil mé Breataineach chomh maith. Tig liom bheith Éireannach agus Breataineach san am céanna.”

Tá sé tábhachtach go mbeadh Protastúnaigh “ag athseilbhiú dúchas s’acu.” Dream go bhfuil níos mó muiníne acu astu féin, ní bagairt atá sa Ghaeilge, ach “faraor, níl an muinín sin ag achan duine.” Tá daoine ag fiosrú a gcúlra féin, ní ag tiontú ina bpoblachtánach. “Agamsa, rinne sé mo nasc leis an phobal Protastúnach níos láidre ar bhonn dearfach, chuir sé mé níos mó ar an eolas faoi cé agus cad é mé féin,” ar sise. “Ní Caitliceach, ní Poblachtánach mé, ní aontachtaí láidir mé, ach tá mo chreideamh Protastúnach iontach tábhachtach agam, agus tig liom rudaí a fheiceáil atá i gcoitinne agam le daoine sa phobal náisiúnach, ach tá fhios agam go bhfuil difríochtaí ann chomh maith.”

Ba turas casta trín saol a rinne Linda féin. Bhí a tuismitheoirí sa Pháirtí Cumannach, an teaghlach oscailte do smaointí difriúla. Thosaigh sí ar an mheánscoil in Ardscoil Grosvenor “ach iarradh orm go múinte imeacht, ansin chuaigh mé go Baile Nua na Bréadaí – mar ar díbríodh mé.” Scar a tuismitheoirí, a h-athair ina chónaí i gCill Uaighe in iarthar Bhéil Feirste “agus chuaigh mé go dtí Cross and Passion ar Bhóthar an Ghleanna.” Chuaigh sí ansin go Scoil Idirmheánach Park Parade “mar ar díbríodh mé chomh maith.”

B’shin deireadh lena scolaíocht oifigiúil. Chuaigh sí ag obair mar glantóir. Bhí sí torrach agus í 15, saolaíodh an céad páiste aici agus í 16. Sna 80idí, bhí triúr páistí uirthi, agus a fear céile díomhaoin.

D’fhill sí ar an oideachas sna lár-90idí “go díreach le rud éigean a dhéanamh, le fáil amach as an teach. Thug sin mé ar aghaidh chuig an GCSE, agus ba A-anna ar fad a fuair mé sa GCSE.” Faoin am seo, ba seanmháthair í.

Rinne sí A-Léibhéal, go deachaigh go Ollscoil na Ríona, go ndearna céim le Béarla. Go dtí sin, b’áit é Ollscoil na Ríona “le bheith ina aicearra go Oispidéal na Cathrach.” Tháinig athrú mór ar a saol, nó cháiligh sí mar mhúinteoir meánscoile, í ag teagasc ina ceantar dúchas féin.

Baineann sí úsáid as a táithí saol féin ina cuid oibre. Tá An Turas ann “le seans a thabhairt do dhaoine ón bpobal Protastúnach, ón lucht oibre Protastúnach, an Ghaeilge a fhoghlaim. Mar, an pobal Protastúnach, ní raibh fhios acu go raibh na h-áiteanna seo ann mar a mbeifeá ábalta dul agus Gaeilge a fhoghlaim.”

Fuair sí amach go raibh Gaeilge ina cúlra féin. Céad éigean bliain ó shoin, bhíodh sean-tuismitheoirí a fir céile, Brian Ervine (ceannaire ar an Pháirtí Aontachtaigh Forásaigh), agus a dheartháir, David Ervine, ina gcónaí i gceantar Bhóthar Bhaile Nua na hArda Íochtarach. “Nuair a chuamar isteach i ndaonáireamh 1911, fuaireamar amach go raibh Gaeilge acu,” ar sise. B’as ceantar Ráth Fraoileann dóibh, as pobal tuaithe a labhair Gaeilge.

Ar a bealach féin, tháinig sí ar thuiscint ar an dóigh gur sheachain Protastúnaigh an Ghaeilge ar an ábhar go bhfaca siad ceangal leis an pholaitíocht. “Sheachain mé an tUltais mar go raibh sé bainte le Protastúnachas, le hAontachtachas, ach anois, trín Gaeilge, tháinig mé ar meas agus grá don Ultais chomh maith, don fíor-Ultais, ní don rud seo a chum na polaiteoirí,” ar sise.

Dar le Linda go bhfuil buntaiste mór leis an Ghaeilge. “Sílim gur tháinig mé ar an leigheas ar uaigneas agus dúlagar, agus is é an Ghaeilge é,” ar sise. “Tá rud sóisialta ann, cuireann pobal na Gaeilge an-fáilte roimh daoine. Ní saol mór é, mar sin nuair a théann tú isteach ann, cuireann tú aithne ar dhaoine go gasta. Is rud é go dtig leat dul ann leat féin. Is saor in aisce, nó saor go maith, atá tromlach na n-imeachtaí. Tig leat dul amach gach oíche sa tseachtain.”

Ní raibh fadhb leis an Ghaeilge ach uair amháin i Lár-Ionad Skainos, nuair a bhí seastán ag An Turas. “Bhí an fear seo, agus bhí sé iontach tógtha,” arsa Linda. “Ghlac mé leis gur Protastúnach é. Agus ansin nuair a dúirt sé ‘An teanga sin, bhris sé croí páistí, bhí orthu é a fhoghlaim’ – thuig mé gur faoi féin a bhí sé ag caint.” Ba Chaitliceach é.

Chomh maith le Gaeilge, tá an Chríostaíocht mar chuid tábhachtach dá saol. Níor tógadh mar Críostaí í. Ach bhí sí ar an dé deiridh le droch-sláinte agus “ghuigh mé ar feadh na laethanta chun an Dé seo nár chreidh mé ann.” D’éirigh leis na h-urnaithe sin, nó “Tháinig mé ar rud a séanadh orm, go raibh mé naimhdeach dó, gur athraigh sé mo shaol.”

Scott Fizgerald and Fermanagh


This woman looks at us across nearly two centuries. She links places, generations, and traditions of literature. Her great-grandson, Scott Fitzgerald, would become one of the writers who defined the 20th Century. This woman was born towards the end of the 18th: the picture was taken sometime in the later part of the 19th. Mary (Molly) Neeson was born in south Fermanagh. It is unsure whether it was Galloon, Clones, or Roslea Parish. From the age of her older children, we know she married into the McQuillan family as a young woman.

This is a picture of a a lucky woman. She left Ireland two years before the Famine was to destroy the population of Galloon Parish, where she lived. The death rate was similar to the worst areas of Mayo and West Cork. The population of Drumgallon townland fell 50% from 1841 to 1851. In 1843, she emigrated from Drumgallon, near Donagh to the USA with her sons, except John (we don't know if some stayed behind): her daughter (we don't know if there were other daughters who stayed behind): and her brother James Neeson. Of her husband, we know little. Did he die in Fermanagh, on the voyage, or in the USA? Philip was the youngest of the sons accompanying her.

Molly McQuillan's son John was already in Galena, Illinois. It was a lead mining centre on the Mississipi River, and a centre for immigrants from Fermanagh. These McQuillan emigrants were like the most Irish immigrants to the USA at the time: middling farmers, squeezed by the agricultural recession after Britain's wars against France.

The family settled in Galena. All except one didn't become rich, but the New World was better for middling farmers.

One son, Philip, die become rich. In his early teens, he began work in a shop. Half a dozen years after, he moved to the growing city of St Paul - and became one of its richest man. His daughter, Molly, was named after her grandmother.

This Molly's son was Francis Scott Fitzgerald, the chronicler of the USA in the 1920s. He wrote of the upper middle classes on the East Coast: then, when debt, drink, and literary fashion all conspired against him, of struggling screenwriters in Hollywood.

It was a life far different from the hill townland of heavy land three or four miles north of Newtownbutler where his great-grandmother raised his grandfather. A townland where his grandmother was part of the decision for the family to sail from Derry to the New World. That decision meant her youngest son became grandfather of the writer - rather than joining so many of his former neighbours in a Famine grave.

Training in social media

Today I'm at a union training course in Belfast on the use of social media.

The course is most useful. It is excellent that the trade union movement provides training for members. Currently, social media is a major way in which people interact. Trade unions have to use it to communicate with our members.

Importantly, as trade unionists we have to understant the pitfalls. What is online is public.

Employers use social media to spy on workers. So beware what you post about yourself. The phrase 'digital natives' is used about young people. Too often, they are digitally naive - in the extreme, blundering in cyberspace - ignorant they are being watched.

Broadcaster and writer is link in a long tradition

(This was first published in An tUltach, February 2014)

le hAnton Mac Cába

Bhuail mé le Diarmuid Ó Tuama sa chaifé ag an Chultúrlann i mBéal Feirste le leabhar agus sraith raidió s’aige ar Chogadh na gCarad a phlé. Tar éis cúpla bomaite ag ól caifé leis, thuig mé go raibh mé le nasc beo leis an stair. Tháinig a shean-athair aneas as Corcaigh go Béal Feirste. Bhí sé ag stopadh le Francis Joseph Biggar, ansin le James Connolly. Bhí athair Dhiarmuid, Seamus Twomey, ina cheannaire ar an IRA (Sealadach) i mBéal Feirste ag tús na dTrioblóidí, ansin ina Cheann Fóirne.

“Thaobhaigh mo mhuintir ar fad leis na hIrregulars (na Poblactaigh, nuair a scoilt an IRA i 1922 – A Mac C) agus bhí mo shean-athair amuigh i naoi gcéad déag is a sé déag,” ar seisean. “Agus bhí gliondar orm sin a chluinstin, nuair a chuir an Bureau of Military History an t-eolas ar an idirlíon.” Ní raibh sé ábalta teacht ar a sheanathair sna cáipéisí ón dtréimhse 1919-21 “agus shíl mé go raibh m’athair ag insint bréaga. Chuaigh mé siar go dtí naoi gcéad déag is a sé déag, agus ceart go leoir, b’shin ainm s’aige – Mary Street, Belfast, James Twomey - Séamas a bhí air ach scríobh siad ‘James’. Bhí mé iontach bródúil as sin. Thaobhaigh seisean leis na Irregulars. Chuaigh a dheartháireacha in éadán an Chonartha. Chuaigh a mhuintir ar fad i gCorcaigh – b’as Corcaigh dó – in éadán an Chonartha.”

Cuireadh an Seamus Twomey seo go Béal Feirste le h-eagar a chur ar na Fianna. Gabhadh agus cuireadh faoi ghlas i 1910 é as postaeir a chur suas in éadán earcaíochta san arm Ba Seán Mac Diarmada a shínígh bannaí dó. “Bhí sé ag stopadh le Francis Joseph Biggar,” arsa Diarmuid. “Nuair a fuair Biggar amach go raibh sé gníomhach, chuir Biggar amach as a theach é, agus bhí air dul a stopadh le James Connolly.” Bhí an Seamus Twomey seo sna lár-déaga ag an am.

Fuair an sean-athair bás agus Diarmuid ina dhéagóir. Is cuimhin le Diarmuid é  i 1966. “Nuair a bhain Sasana i gCorn an Domhain, thobair nár chuir sé a bhróg fríd an teilifís,” arsa Diarmuid.

Agus é óg, bhíodh Diarmuid ag dul thart chuig comórthaí i dteannta a shean-athair, gur bhuail le cuid mhór sean-óglach. “Casadh Stephen Fuller orm, a pléascadh ag Ballyseedy (mar ar dúnmaraíodh ochtar cime poblachtach le linn Cogaidh na gCarad – A Mac C),” ar seisean. “Bhí fhios again ar tharla i mBallyseedy sula raibh fhios ag an chuid eile den phobal. Tháinig an scéal amach go hoifigiúil i naoi gcéad déag ochtó’s a sé, sílim, nuair a chuir RTE an clár sin ‘Ballyseedy’ amach.”

Ba mhinic Uinseann Mac Eoin, a scríobh ‘Survivors’, tí tuismitheoirí Dhiarmuid, nó gur cairde iad. Bhain sé úsáid as ‘Survivors’ sa leabhar s’aige féin, mar leabhar tagartha, nó tá an scéal oifigiúil “i bhfad ró-fhada ón fhírínne.”

Beart a spreag é le scríobh faoi Cogadh na gCarad, ná go raibh náire ar an stát ó dheas as. “Ní raibh i gCogadh na gCarad ach an dara leath den chéad cogadh (an Cogadh Angla-Éireannach),” ar seisean. “ Sílim go raibh an sos cogaidh  míle naoi gcéad déan fiche’s a h-aon ina chinéal leath-am ag an rud.”

Sa sos cogaidh tháinig daoine amach “agus bhí fhios ag achan duine cé rinne cad é, agus eile.” Cúpla mí den sos agus bheadh “achan duine ag ceoil, ag ól” agus ag pilleadh ar an saol a bhí acu mar shibhialtaigh. Ba chuid sin den phlean ag na Sasanaigh go mbeadh saol arais acu, agus nár mhaith leo dul arais ag troid.

“Ins an chéad leath den chogadh, buaileadh Sasana go h-olc,” arsa Diarmuid. “Ins an dara leath, bhain Sasana.

“Bhí Collins agus Duffy agus Griffith iontach cliste. Chuaigh siad thart mar a rinneadh inniu, agus dúirt siad ‘Look, ní seo an deireadh, ná bí buartha, beidh mo dhuine arais ag troid.’ Agus bhí fhios acu go rí-mhaith nach mbeadh siad arais ag troid.

“Bhí baicle daoine a tháinig chun tosaigh le linn an sosa cogaidh, leithéidí Cosgrave, Desmond Fitzgerald, na leaids sin ar fad, agus sin na daoine a bhunaith rialtas an Saorstáit.”

Agus Collins ag troid, bhí siadsan ag bailiú cumhachta. Taobh thiar díobh, feiceann Diarmuid Andy Cope, an Leas Fó-Rúnaí na hÉireann deireannach ag na Sasanaigh. Bhí dlúth-teangmháil aige le polaiteoirí seo Shinn Féin. B’eisean a leag síos polasaí s’acu “ ná glac príosúnaigh, maraigh achan duine. Deir siad gur mharaigh siad seachtó’s a seacht, ach mharaigh siad na céadta.”

Dar le Diarmuid go raibh sé suntasach nár tharla seo go dtí gur maraíodh Michael Collins.

“Sílim gur ghlac muidne go ró-fhada leis an chraic gur na hÓglaigh a rinne é,” arsa Diarmuid. “Ní creidin gurb iad na hÓglaigh a rinne é. Scríobh fear ar pháipéar i mBaile Átha Cliath – ní cuimhin liom anois a ainm – nuair a bhí (An Maor-Ginearál Emmet) Dalton fós beo, dúirt sé gur scaoil Seirbhís Rúnda Shasana Michael Collins: an fear a rinne é, gur tugadh jab dó i rialtas an tSaorstáit ina dhiaidh, agus ina dhiaidh sin d’fhág sé rialtas an tSaorstáit agus chuaigh sé arais le Seirbhís Rúnda Shasana, agus bhí sé ag obair san Éigipt agus san Eoraip ina dhiaidh sin. Agus ní raibh i gceist ach duine amháin ansin, Emmet Dalton.”

Léigh Diarmuid ráitisí a scríobh beirt shaighdiúr a bhí in éineacht le Collins nuair a maraíodh é. “The IRA could not possible have killed General Collins as he had not come round the corner and he was in no line of fire,” arsa fear amháin. “Dúirt an fear eile go bhfaca sé Dalton ag scaoileadh Collins marbh,” arsa Diarmuid. “Dúirt sé go bhfaca sé Dalton ina sheasamh ag corp Collins agus gunna ina lámh aige, fear taobh leis, an tiománaí a bhí ag Collins an lá sin ná fear darbh ainm Corry, iar-shaighdiúr Shasanach, agus bhí Collins timpeallaithe acu.”

Bhí Cope den bharúil nach dtiocfadh leis brath ar Collins, bhí sé chomh taghdach sin, agus ina ‘Thadhg an Trí Thaobh’. “Bhí sé ag rá leis na Státairí ‘We’ll fight these Republicans agus gheobhfaimid an bua orthu’,” arsa Diarmuid. “Bhí sé ag rá leis na Poblachtánaigh ‘Stop an cogadh, agus rachaimid ó thuaidh’. Agus bhí sé ag rá leis na Sasanaigh ‘Troidfidh mise an cogadh’.

“Chreid cuid mhór de na hóglaigh i mBéal Feirste é, agus chuaigh cuid mhór acu le hArm an tSaorstáit, rud a chuir iontas orm, cé nach ndeachaigh mo mhuintir féin leo.”

Briseadh go tubaisteach ar na hÓglaigh. “Bunaíodh dhá stát, ar an dóigh go dteipfeadh ar an rud a bhí acu,” arsa Diarmuid. “Bhunaigh siad an stáitín ó thuaidh a bhí seicteach, ciníoch, Albanach, salach, agus ar an taobh eile chuir siad stáitín ar shiúil a bhí lofa ón dtús, a bhí Caitliceach, a bhí i gcoinne na feirmeoirí beaga, a bhí ann do lucht an rachmais a bhí go mór i bhfách le Fine Gael, nó Cumann na nGael mar a bhí ag an am.”

Léiríonn ar tharla ina dhiaidh go raibh ciall le Cogadh na gCarad. “Bhí na daoine seo ag troid ar son poblachta,” arsa Diarmuid. “Ní raibh siad ag troid ar son dhá stáitín lofa.”

‘Cogadh na gCarad’ le Diarmuid Ó Tuama. Coiscéim, €10. Na cláracha raidió ar an idirlíon @ https://www.rte.ie/rnag/fuinneog-feirste/programmes/2013/0730/465472-fuinneog-feirste-d-mirt-30-iil-2013/?clipid=1278818

Legendary footballer

by Anton McCabe

(a slightly different version was published in the Irish Times of March 8th 2014)

Jimmy Jones – born 25^th July 1928, died 13^th February 2014

Jimmy Jones, who has died after a long illness, was a legendary Northern footballer, and at the centre of one of Irish soccer’s most infamous incidents. Belfast Celtic withdrew from the Irish League after Linfield fans attacked him following a match on Boxing Day 1948.

That infamous 1948 match was played at Linfield’s ground, Windsor Park in Belfast. Linfield was perceived as a Protestant team, Belfast Celtic being perceived as Catholic – despite Jones being Church of Ireland. During the first half, a Linfield player suffered a broken leg when tackling Jones. At half time, a Linfield official announced the injury. When the game ended, Linfield supporters invaded the pitch. Jones was kicked unconscious, then a Linfield fan jumped off a wall onto his leg, breaking it in five places. A friend saved Jones’ life by lying on top of him. Afterwards, surgeons considered amputating the leg.

Jones recovered, to become the Irish League’s top scorer ever, hitting 646 goals in a career that continued at Glenavon, Larne and Newry Town. He was capped three times for Northern Ireland. He was a strong centre-forward with legs like tree-trunks, who defined his function simply: “I am there to score goals.” An opponent broke his jaw in one match: he was back playing in a fortnight.

As well as being a footballer, Jones was a motorcycle racer. He won the Skerries 100, among other races.

Jones was born in July 1928 in his maternal grandparents’ house in Keady, Co Armagh, only child to Thomas Jones, a police sergeant, and his wife Ellen (née Wilson). When Jones was days old, his mother returned to Lurgan. He spent the rest of his life in or near that town.

After education at Carrick Primary School and Lurgan Technical College, he served his apprenticeship as a mechanic – while making an impact as a footballer. While playing football, he became a salesman for dairy products, briefly ran a pub - and married Cecily, a nurse from Co Kilkenny.

At the time of his death, he was President of the Belfast Celtic Society. When his death was announced at a Glasgow Celtic home game, the crowd applauded him. They knew who he was, though most were not born when his career ended.

Jones is survived by his wife Cecily, children Jennifer and Trevor, and grandchildren.