Fifty shades of green
Folk from within and beyond Erin’s Isle know well how to truly celebrate St Patrick’s Day.
The Irish are famously hospitable people, and at home and abroad, young and old are always up for a party to honour an occasion.
Just a few short years ago, ‘Paddy’s day’ in Melbourne coincided with sold-out concerts by Daniel O’Donnell, the acclaimed folk singer from Ireland.
For three full hours, O’Donnell, the very popular flame-haired Mary Duff, and the multi-talented, six-piece accompanying band entertained the crowd with song, dance, and stories from Erin’s Isle.
O’Donnell loves his homeland and its people, many of whom are scattered to the four corners of the globe.
So brilliant were the rapidly-changing backdrops, and so stirring the music, it was possible to imagine we were, for the evening, magically transported across the miles to legendary places such as the great cliffs of Moher, the fields of Athenry, Killarney’s lakes, and the wild storm-lashed coast of Donegal in the north-west.
Some 25 years ago, I spent time with some beautiful Donegal people – the McCauley’s – renowned hat and tweed cap-makers, and Gaelic football devotees.
It was a large family residence in a white-washed stone cottage on the banks of the River Eske on Donegal town outskirts.
The hospitality was wonderful and not least appreciated was the homespun traditional food. Three times, the lads threw lines into the swiftly flowing river and caught the evening meals.
There were 10 children, and the home was so clearly a happy one. After a late evening meal, there were songs around the piano and enthralling tales of the region. After 11pm, when it seemed time to go to bed, that was in no way on the agenda.
Dad and his brother Anthony, and the girls and boys old enough, trekked down to one of the many pubs, which in Ireland come alive as midnight approaches. An 18-year-old Erner was a vivacious lass and vibrant with music and song. Everyone loved her and she kept in touch over the years. Now married with children and settled in America, Erner was but one of a magnificent family.
Daniel O’Donnell
Galway Bay
The evergreen lilting tunes of Galway Bay evoke nostalgia wherever ex-pat Irish folk gather.
It was on an earlier visit with young Aussie cricketers (ex-ACK) en route to play in the UK league, that I got to visit the fabled, west-coast town.
Setting out north, via the bustling market towns of Ennis and Gort, the country was startlingly beautiful, a richer green than I have ever seen. Ethereal really is the word to describe the light of Ireland. It is different, soft, and wraith-like.
It was raining in Galway and a chill wind swept in across the grey waters of the bay. There were no sandy foreshore, just rocks and pebbles worn smooth through the ages. The promenade shops were deserted, many shuttered, no doubt until the summer season with its tourist influx.
In some respects it was, for a moment, a scene of desolation. Yet, to stand there and gaze out across the cold waters to the distant mist-shrouded hills in the distance was a moving experience. As the waves washed over the shore, it was almost possible to leave the haunting melody of the popular and beautiful song.
Fields of Athenry
A Sunday mid-afternoon football game between Athenry and the coastal town Kinvarra showcased the Irish love of their own native game. Athenry is not much bigger than Kilmore, but over 4000 people of all ages turned out – a regular crowd, I was told.
A highlight of a superb afternoon was the guest appearance of Kerry legend Jack O’Shea. Good judges who know rugby, soccer, and Aussie Rules firmly believe O’Shea was one of the finest players to grace any code.
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The visit to the Daniel O’Donnell concert was made possible by former AFL 200-game umpire John Harvey, who I got to know through college games, many of which have been umpired by John and his good mate Mark Prince, who also officiated in the ‘Big League’.
John’s partner Tamara is a teacher at Copperfield College. In earlier times she was a police officer. John is a super keen tennis player and loves his well-appointed home club.
John loved his visits to Kilmore and often brought his late dearly beloved mum in a wheelchair and was deeply moved by the way the good local ladies of the pavilion kiosk looked after her.
Simple words down the ages mean a lot, along with greetings such as ‘How are you?’. Sadly, along with many other niceties, they have virtually disappeared from modern day Australia. As Gary Martin wrote in the Herald Sun last week about the damage of gratitude and manners – and I quote briefly –
‘It’s unfortunate. The practice of thanking others for an act of kindness, a favour, or any thoughtful gesture is becoming a thing of the past.’
You’ve probably noticed the trend of grandchildren skipping ‘thank-yous’ for birthday gifts, neighbours forgetting to acknowledge your help with collecting their mail while they’re away, students not thanking teachers, or service workers seldom hearing words of appreciation for their efforts.
This shift is evident in our daily lives, whether at work, within our families, among friends, or in everyday interactions.
The ripple effects of this gratitude gap are far-reaching, leading to decreased productivity in workplaces and creating emotional distance in personal relationships.
Any community that undervalues gratitude risks becoming one where entitlement and selfishness prevail. We need to consciously reintegrate gratitude into our lives to ensure it remains a vibrant part of our present and future, rather than a nostalgic relic of the past.
Hayley’s message
Just the other day, I received a lovely letter from former ACK student Hayley Comerford. Now married to Carlton and Gold Coast Suns footballer Levi Casboult, the young mother of four has crowded plenty into her 32 years.
A lively student and sports girl at Assumption where she gave me valued help with the sports program, Hayley became a police officer in Victoria and now works in welfare on the Gold Coast.
She told me she gives thanks everyday for the values her parents gave her and her siblings, and for the strength of character of her husband Levi. The latter grew up in Launceston where his dad is a highly regarded police officer.
Hayley lost both her grandfathers in recent times – they had given valued service for decades to the Wagga (NSW) community. Hayley and her brother Ben, also a police officer, loved their time in Kilmore and retain fond memories of the place and people.
