The following paragraphs give a small insight into the frame of mind of a young person, about to leave behind their family and a culture held so dear.
They say every journey starts with that one, single step. Let me take you back to the Ireland of the early 1970s as I embarked on that fateful journey of my own. The world was a smaller place back then, and I can tell you that it was with no shortage of trepidation with which I ventured.
Little did I realise on that sleepy morning the scale of the adventure which lay in wait for me. The razor sharp edge of policing in England's harsh and industrial North could not have been further from my thoughts.
Please enjoy....
January 1973. "How's it going?" Shouted my neighbour, farmer Mikey Boran, as I waited with my suitcase outside my house at Deerpark near the small country town of Castlecomer in Southern Ireland. It was 7am on a cold winter morning, Mikey was riding past on his bicycle going to check on his cows. Seeing me dressed unusually smartly and with a small brown suitcase at my side prompted another shout. "Are you going somewhere, Gerry?"- he enquired.
I've never been a morning person and I didn't feel too much like engaging in a conversation at this time of day, especially as I had already told Mikey at least a dozen times that I was going to England on Monday. I said "I'm going to England Mikey, remember, I told you?" ... "Oh Janey Mac, sure I forgot all about that", said Mikey. "Look after yourself now!"
Mikey was one of two middle-aged bachelor brothers who owned a small farm near our house. They were genuine, decent people and very good neighbours. Their lives revolved around their farm and were not complicated in any way by external influences such as marriage or any other events outside of their farm. The farthest either of them had ever been was to Dublin about 60 miles away. Mikey had made one trip to a greyhound race some years earlier and he still lived on the details of that trip as though he had gone around the world.
As youngsters, my friends and I would spend as much time as we possibly could helping out on the farm. It was fun for us playing with the animals and the brothers enjoyed our company and appreciated the little bit of help we gave. I would often spend my entire school summer holidays working on the farm-milking cows, feeding the animals and picking potatoes in the fields. Mikey's brother, Pat, was in charge of the finances and would pay me 2 pounds a week, but I would have done it for nothing.
I think Mikey and Pat had actually influenced me to be heading for a distant shore on that January morning. I saw how their lives revolved around their farm and whilst they had a good, happy life, I wanted to see more of the world than my small country town.
While I was excited by the prospect of my new adventure, I was also a little bit sad. I was glad it was very early in the morning and no one, except Mikey Boran, was out to see me off. I had said goodbye to my mother and father, but they had stayed inside. They would not want me to see them upset and I did't want anyone to see me with weepy eyes. That same scenario would be repeated many times over the coming years as I returned home for holidays and family events. I would always arrange it so that my wife Marion and I, and our four boys would leave for the airport or ferry very early in the morning, before we could see anyone. We would always be upset at leaving, but at least no one could see us and make it even worse.
As Mikey bid me farewell and disappeared up the road on his bicycle, I dried the tears from my eyes and saw my lift to the airport had arrived.......
Stay tuned for more snippets from the book. Buy the book for only £9.99 plus postage from Amazon Books on this link http://www.amazon.co.uk/Irish-Detective-Yorkshire-Gerry-OShea/dp/1910097187/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1416149237&sr=1-1&keywords=gerry+o%27shea
Reads well Gerry. I am sure the book will be crammed with many witty tales. Wishing you every success
ReplyDeleteTony