“I waited at the crossroads
The devil stood me up
Is it that he’s just afraid
Or am I not good enough
What happens when you turn the devil down?”
Luis Solano / Michael Brandon
When we were kids and went to school the only time Monaghan was mentioned by anyone who didn’t live in Monaghan was either by accident, or to do with something traumatic that had happened over the border ‘near Monaghan’…and then they’d explain that Monaghan was the lumpy bit on the map that protruded up into the North, and you may have passed through it, without knowing, when you were heading to Donegal from Dublin.
Many Irish people who lived south of Drogheda in those days were convinced that Monaghan was in the North , that we were studying for our A-Levels, when not hiding from bombs and bullets, and nothing would tempt them to come here at all, unless there was a periodic drop in the value of Sterling to the Punt, and coachloads of people from Kerry, Cork, Waterford and Limerick would pass through Monaghan on their way ‘up the North’ to buy half price beer and spirits. A friend of ours owned a hotel on the North Road in Monaghan and one day a coachload of day trippers from Tralee came in for tea and coffee, asking if they accepted ‘Irish currency’ and then settled in for the evening and drank the bar dry, marvelling at ‘Northern hospitality’ and the cheap drink, and never in fact crossed the border.
Kids are always looking to be proud of their place, where they’re from, and kids from Monaghan had slim pickings. We were all told that Charles Gavan Duffy was from Monaghan and were then disappointed to find out that , unlike most well-regarded Irish patriots, he had died peacefully in his sleep after retiring to France. Don’t get me wrong, now, as an older kid, I appreciate the role he played in giving a voice to downtrodden people through The Nation newspaper and setting up the Young Irelanders, but when you’re a school kid you’re not going to really admire someone who could spell and was good at admin.
We did truly celebrate the sporting heroes we had in the 1979 Scotstown team that were cheated out of the All-Ireland Senior Football Championship by Nemo Rangers , and the Monaghan team that were beaten by Kerry in the 1985 All-Ireland Semi-Final…taking particular delight in Gerry McCarville laying out Bomber Liston every time the referee’s back was turned. Barry McGuigan lifted our spirits in the 80’s with his European and World title fights in boxing. Other than that , our only other sporting claim to fame was that John Tracey, Wolrld Cross Country Chanpion , 1978-1979, and Olympic Marathon silver medallist in 1984, got married to Fionnula Moyna from Scotstown.
Culturally, again as kids, we were not exactly proud of Patrick Kavanagh, poet, and as kids, famous dreary arse. Whenever we met kids from anywhere else in Ireland and mentioned where we were from they would automatically reply with some mangled form of the ‘Stony Grey Soil’ poem with contempt on their lips…as we had, having been made to learn all about it for our Inter and Leaving exams. And even as kids, he was a step up from Big Tom, country and not remotely western, troubadour, who hailed from Monaghan. Later in life I’ve come to treasure Kavanagh’s poetry, and am actively considering a new tattoo embracing his line from The Great Hunger :
“….God is in the bits and pieces of Everyday –
A kiss here, and a laugh again, and sometimes tears…”
Big Tom is more of a work in progress, although I have looked at him in a new light after discovering that Shane McGowan, lead singer of The Pogues, had admired Big Tom because of the impact he had had on the Irish community in London in the 70’s when there was little else to look forward to.
The biggest employers were Monaghan Poultry Products , Sherry’s, Coyle’s , and McNally’s furniture factories, General Smugglers & Co. Ltd, the army barracks , Associated Diesel Launderers Inc., Monaghan Mushrooms, and Monaghan Co-op. We were all fierce proud of Monaghan Champion Milk. There were a few empty IDA business Parks around the outskirts of the town waiting patiently for some foreign multi-national to descend from some place exotic bringing computers, filter coffee machines , and jobs where you wore a shirt and tie. They never came.
It was easy to be cynical about the place , and at various times no one found it easier than I. And then I stopped. Hurling , for my European and Yankee readers, is a traditional Irish sport involving two teams of 15 people each, sticks and a very small ball. There is an expression used to describe someone who shares his critical opinions loudly, and unsolicited , about a situation that they are not actively involved in, or have great expertise in. They are called the ‘Hurler on the ditch’, meaning that they are not involved in the game but are shouting unwanted instructions from the sideline. I didn’t want to be that guy.
And then over time, strangely, having nothing to really shout about, became a badge of honour in it’s own right.
I think you have to go away from a place to appreciate what it is you love about it.
It was only when we moved away that I started to read up on Monaghan history and discovered , usually in the footnotes, about Pockrich the mad inventor, Frances Murray, friend of Marie Antoinette, Parra Glas the highwayman, Mary Bailey, pioneering aviatrix, Paul McCartney’s granda, Juan Mackenna, liberator of Chile, and Benny Callan, who engineered the Apollo 11 landing pod. All fascinating Monaghan folk who most people have never heard of…and , no offence to Gavan Duffy, more weirdly wonderful.
My Soulmate and I lived in Dublin, bought a house in Clane, moved to Belfast, and eventually ended up back in Monaghan , with three Wunder Monkees in tow. Our house, although only a mile from Ballinode, turned out to be in the parish of Threemilehouse. Our new neighbours welcomed us on our very first day home and have been great friends ever since. Our kids went to school with their kids on the bus that stopped at our gate each morning.
Despite knowing absolutely nothing about football, I ended up with other kids’ Dads being a coach/crowd controller for the mighty Drumkill Rovers F.C. This was the very first voluntary thing I’d ever done in my entire life, and I have to say I loved it. I ‘coached’ the Under-8s with Peader every Wednesday evening on a pitch carved out of the side of a hill by the other Dads and volunteers in the club. Our clubhouse was a an old 40’ container which punched you in the face with the ghostly dead hand aroma of Deep Heat and forgotten holdalls of unwashed shorts and jerseys. I loved it. The training , the kids’ excitement on the day of the blitz, writing match reports, and the running battle with the Northern Standard who kept editing out my over exuberant descriptions of our goals and the character assassinations of any opposing player who dared score against us.
But what I loved most was the sense of community.
My Soulmate obviously sensed how much I loved it and volunteered me to help out coaching with Monaghan Phoenix Athletic. This was even more out of my depth. At least I watched football on tv. But the real coaches, Brian and Damian, did the actual coaching and I was left to look after the kids who didn’t want to be there and we’d wander over to the far side of the track and try and name star constellations and slag off my playlist songs. But again, the reason I kept going back was the sense of community.
Jake joined the Scouts and I think that’s where I met Donal McElwain who was the chief scout master. He also proved to be an excellent judge of character and never asked me to help out.
Donal worked for the council and anytime that we needed anything from the council for either Drumkill Rovers, or Phoenix, Donal’s name was always the one recommended. I laboured under the impression that he was their sole employee for a long time.
In most towns in Ireland, and no doubt, further afield , there is a chamber of commerce which functions as a union of local businesses and is a point of contact between the local council and local business. Various attempts had been made over the years to have one in Monaghan but they usually disintegrated in a miasma of internecine warfare. Around 2012-ish a group of dedicated townfolk, Richard, Suzzane, Grainne, Sean and Roz set up the Monaghan Town Team to just do something for the town, get things going. They cleverly involved community groups , such as Tidy Towns. I was asked to join and for reasons that still escape me, said ‘yes’. Now that I think about it, Fred Clifford asked me to join and said he’d tell his Mum if I didn’t.
When I went to my first meeting with them Donal McElwain was there, acting as liaison between the group and the council.
I began to notice that he was always there , like the shopkeeper in the Mr.Benn cartoons, he’d facilitate what you wanted to do, without criticism, and yet, just like magic, appear at just the moment that it was all going to unravel and gently guide it back on track.
Over the years we put on various parades, festivals, and events, and Donal was at every single meeting, was there the night before setting up, on the day of the event he’d be there observing, marshalling, saving us from ourselves.
I am prone to think of 10 wonderful things to do before breakfast and after settling on two or three I first share them with Donal. There is usually an intake of breath, he’ll then say ‘Seriously ?’, tut a little, and then say ‘Hmmmm’ a few times before saying ‘I’ll make a few calls’. I then forget about that idea and am surprised when Donal comes back with a plan for it a week or two later.
Most of my ideas revolve around Rossmore Park. None of them would ever have materialised if it hadn’t been for Donal’s unseen hand on the rudder. The first person to hear about every single one of our Drumlin Giants over the year has been Donal. We’ll meet out at the CoffeeDoc grab a coffee and walk to where I’m thinking of placing it, Donal will tellmey why I can’t , I’ll sulk and then he goes off and liaises with the Heritage officer, Tourism section and Coillte, and come back and tell me to go ahead.
Whenever we’ve done an outdoor cinema in the Park, or an old fashioned school sports day, a treasure hunt, or haunting, he again sorts out all of the permissions, certificates, and ropes in extra volunteers from the council. Last year when we had our first river race he sorted out sand bags and permission from Coillte, Inland Fisheries, Heritage , Tourism, Creative Monaghan, and the Civil Defence, while I had a great time splashing about in the river. He called one day to say that he needed to know if I’d sorted out a Health and Safety Officer for the event and after a pause I said ‘Yes’.
“Who is it ?”
“Let me check here… oh yes, it’s D.Mac E.”
“I’ll need a full name.”
“OK…Donal…Mac…Elwain.”
“You can’t put me down ! Who did you use last time ?”
“Donal McElwain. I always put him down for the job nobody else wants. Lovely fella…”
“Right.Fine.Right….leave it with me.”
On the day of the river race itself , even though he was officially on his holidays, Donal was there, making sure we were adhering to things that we’d absentmindedly agreed to in order to get permission. After the kids had decorated their boats and we were all walking up the path to Muireann’s bridge to launch them, Donal came up to me and said “There’s a lot of people on this path at one time.”
“It’ll be fine , Donal”
“I’m just worried about them all bunching up at the weir, you’ve only got a thin strip of barrier tape to hold them back.”
“The river’s deep there, if they’re going to fall in anywhere that’s the place to do it.”
“Jesus, don’t say that 1”
“We’ll be grand, Donal.”
“Aren’t you worried ?”
“No , are you ?”
“Very !”
“Well there’s no point both of us being stressed about it, I’ll leave it with you.”
The boat rave was a great success and my abiding memory of the day is still the look of relief on Donal’s face when it was over.
Coming up with hare brained ideas is easy, bringing them to fruition is hard. None of them ever happen without the people in the footnotes, the unseen hand on the rudder. People like Donal McElwain.
These days I’m very proud of Monaghan. I know the important role relatively unknown characters from here have played in world events. Monaghan companies lead the world in engineering, food production, and contracting. We have more festivals in the town each year than you can shake a stick at. The lead guitarist from Fontaines DC, Conor Curley, is from here, and MoChara, from Kneecap’s family are originally from Clones. And most wonderfully of all, every day of the week, we have volunteers from the community laying out football pitches for underage teams, organising training sessions for athletics, football, rugby, swimming, hurling, camogie. People giving up their time for Tidy Towns, to help out at the Country Music festival, the Harvest Blues, Street Food festivals, St.Patrick’s Day parades, Parkruns, 5k’s, 10 milers, and marathons.
We still have hurlers on the ditch, God bless them.
But there is a lot to take pride in, and we’re fortunate to have people like Donal in the local council to help make it all happen.
He’s moving to a new position and I rang him when I found out to thank him for everything he’s helped me with over the years. He said he would miss the madness, and I replied “ Don’t worry Donal, it’ll find you.”
I’ve always loved the quote from God in ‘Futurama’ “When you do things right people won’t be sure you’ve done anything at all”, and the one about the Earl of Clermont “ No one is entirely sure what it is that he does, but all are agreed that he does it exceptionally well.”
Both could easily apply to local government staff.
But I think this one sums up Donal best. It’s from Kavanagh.
“A man is original when he speaks the truth that is known to all good men.”
Thanks Donal , for everything, and best of luck.
Toodles,
Paul
P.S. This is ‘What Happens When You Turn The Devil Down ?’ by The Mystery Lights
