On the run

In the Cultúrlann today, we were discussing the way we were. One of my compatriots remembers a rioter in Upper Andersonstown — the Brits were based in two blocks of maisonettes at the entrance to Lenadoon - throwing a binlid on top of a CS gas cannister and shouting at the snatch squad: "we eat this stuff".

When I die you can publish the names of the same crowd who put a pitchfork, pointing up, and broken glass in a trench opposite the maisonettes in the hope that the Brits would jump into the 'foxhole' while taking cover.

I don't think anyone has yet captured the full-on ferocity of those early engagements with the British military but I'm surprised the now retired British squaddies don't have their own official record of the time....or perhaps they have and I've missed it.

Idir amanna, léigh mé aighneacht 18 leathanach Philib Mhic Chathmhaoil as Tobar, na déantóirí cláir, don aithbhreithniú ar an Chiste Craoltóireachta ó Thuaidh. Tá moladh fiúntach ansin maidir leis an phlean a bhí ann 15 bliana ó shin a athbheoú, go háirithe anois agus ciste nua do thograí caipitil Gaeilge ar na bacáin.

Contested space

I suppose the Diamond in the centre of Magherafelt — where we pit-stopped yesterday in a swing through South Derry — is the sort of ground over which battles were once fought.

Today, in the largely nationalist town, the Tricolour and Union flag scowl at each other across the main street. True, the Union flag is outnumbered, badly, but then this is Easter and no doubt the balance shifts in the run-in to the Twelfth.

Turns out the townland of Ballymulderg Beg is closer to the centre of Magherafelt than I remembered it, though I do recall my grandda telling us that the man who carried out the fatal shooting at his home in May 1922 was subsequently carried shoulder-high down the main street of the market town.

It's not all grim in Mid-Ulster though. Mary's is a great eaterie and the old farmhouse where that attack took place has been transformed into a modern home. The kindly folk who now live there invited us to look around the site. They keep a newspaper clipping about the murder and its memory seems fresh locally — even after almost 90 years. The shopkeeper beside the church at the Loup (oops had the spelling wrong there until Mrs McCourt put me right), where James McKeown is buried in an unmarked grave, was able to direct us faultlessly to our location.

In searching for details of the Ballymulderg attack, I came across the Relatives for Justice site for Francis McKeown, son of Frank who was injured in the 1922 shooting with my grandfather Tommy. Francis was shot dead by the British Army in Lenadoon in July 1972.

The site includes the following details about the Ballymulderg attack:

The tragic murder of Francis McKeown was not the first time the McKeown family had suffered at the hands of official British armed forces. Just over 50 years before Mr McKeown’s murder his own father, also called Francis was shot and seriously wounded along with his two brothers at their home in County Derry, in May 1922. One of the brothers, James was killed in the incident. The attack took place during the early hours of Thursday 11 May 1922, when a party of men arrived at the family farm at Ballymulderg, near Magherafelt, and demanded admittance. Mrs McKeown, the elderly mother of the brothers, who later gave evidence at an inquest, said when she heard the loud knocking she asked who was there and was ordered to open the door, one of the raiders adding ‘We are not going to raid; we will not do any harm.’ Three men armed with rifles entered and James McKeown then came down stairs. After getting candles, which James lit, Mrs McKeown saw that the armed men had cloth rapped round their faces. They wore broad caps like policemen’s. They asked her about her family and she told them. Her son Francis and Tom then came down stairs, and they were taken to the kitchen. James when he saw the rifles implored them not to shoot, but they paid no attention and fired a volley into the brothers. They continued firing into their bodies as the lay defensiveness on the ground. James died almost immediately, as his brothers cried out in pain. James was shot seven times, Francis 16 times and Thomas 12 times; the latter two victims surviving their wounds. Mrs McKeown said her sons were not in any political organisations, and the caps the raiders wore had peaks like those of policeman’s.

Several inquest hearings into the murder were held and adjourned until a hearing in July 1922, when after the advice of the coroner, the jury returned a verdict that the deceased was murdered by some person or persons unknown. At the time of the verdict a B-Special called Brown was in custody charged with the murder. Thomas McKeown had identified him during the shooting when his masked slipped from his face. Brown lived about two miles from the McKeown homestead. He was acquitted of all charges in January 1923.

The original house is effectively gone but here's one of the outhouses which would have stood back in 1922.

On the buses

The new Public Record Office in the Titanic Quarter (where else?) has cost around £30m to build and fit out but I'm sure it will be worth every penny (providing of course that it doesn't flood — aren't there rules about putting public archives so close to the water?) and I look forward especially to viewing the public art there by Rita Duffy.

Visitors, particularly Americans, will undoubtedly put the PRONI office on their itinerary when coming to Belfast so that they can check up on their ancestors.

However, a very potent web archive is already available to anyone interested in their forebears. The 1911 census, filled in by every family in Ireland is now online.

It can trace every family by townland and county and makes for magnificent reading. I pulled the census form of my grandfather's family, the McKeowns of Ballymulderg, near the Loop in South Co Derry.

They were a big family — one brother as mentioned here previously was shot dead a decade later and two others shot and wounded by loyalists in the family home as their stricken mother looked on.

What sticks out on this form: the question on Irish. With Partition and the attempt to erase Irish from the map, the question was dropped for eight decades.

But also I note my great-grandfather was illiterate. His mark, an 'x', is placed where his signature should be.

How many generations does it take to move from the civilization of the Gael to the subjugation of illiteracy under British rule?

And what a credit to him that his family became selfless patriots — one son ended up in the prison ship the Argenta (I have read his 'S' security file and its searing exposé of life on the floating jail), one murdered, two others injured. In their careers, I believe some of the family went onto careers in business and teaching. My grandda made it as far as the buses on the Falls Road, asking to be moved out of the Ardoyne depot when he recognised one of the men who had shot him prowling the area.

The same Falls depot, that is, where they played the Sash on the benches.

Easter Rising greetings to Lawrence

I'm heading out to the Easter Rising commemoration on the Falls shortly (interestingly, yesterday's Irish Times had a round-up of happenings over Easter but didn't mention the many Easter Rising commemorations taking place around the country, complementing the recently revived official outing in Dublin)) but was delighted to see that the great City of Lawrence in Massachusetts has just passed a Unite Ireland resolution. You can see the Irish Echo report in this week's edition.

The mayor of Lawrence Willie Lantigua (pictured) is following in the steps of the Irish American mayors who previously occupied that high post with a strong statement welcoming the move:

He said: “The City of Lawrence is very proud of the long history of cooperation and friendship between all of Ireland and the City. In recent years we have been pleased to host groups from The North of Ireland and the Republic as we shared our experiences and our common quest for economic and social justice. We were particularly honored by the visit last October by Conor Murphy the Minister of Regional Development for Northern Ireland. A United Ireland would be a reaffirmation of the legitimacy and unrelenting power of the will of the people in the search for peace and justice and a rejection of the use of discrimination and intolerance as tools to deny equal opportunity for all citizens wherever they are situated. We will continue our efforts to achieve these goals and will work with the citizens of Ireland and others as we strive to make a better world whenever and wherever social and economic injustice exist.”

Showing the way

I see that the City of Quarters conference site has now put up audio recordings from two sessions, including the contributions of Minister Conor Murphy and Profeesor Liam Kelly of the University of Ulster, while this short video compilation has interviews with Sean Paul O'Hare of Féile an Phobail, Patricia Freedman of Cathedral Quarter and our Barcelona visitor Antonio Hermosilla.

There is also a 50-snap picture gallery and some stimulating feedback, all in all a magnificent piece of web architecture by our John Ferris.

On the steps of the Supreme Court

I first met Jack O'Brien back in March 1987 when I traveled to the US for Sinn Féin to speak at St Patrick's Day events in the US capital and at Duke University in North Carolina. It was quite a trip: I remember a gentleman in military uniform quiz me about the IRA's stance during the Second World War and an aborted talk in Georgetown University, Washington DC, where my hosts had unwisely described nationalists of the North as "Europe's n.....s" in the promotional poster. The only person who turned up was an African-American lady who explained that students were offended by the poster wording though she understood the point my hosts were trying to make.

For part of that visit, I stayed with the Reilly family (or could it be O'Reilly?) family of DC. Kevin, the family's point man on Ireland, had been in a motorcycle accident in Ireland shortly after his marriage there and was paralysed from the neck down. He was studying law and studied his books by means of an instrument in his mouth which enabled him to turn the pages of books on a see-through shelf above his face as he lay prone in bed. He was the business and also had a wonderful family.

Sadly, I've lost touch with the family and know not how they are faring.

However, on my trip to Capitol Hill last month to unveil the Pat Finucane portrait, I did get to meet up again with Jack O'Brien of the Ancient Order of Hibernians, who also facilitated my '87 visit. We had a reunion after 23 years. Jack is an activist's activist; he's always plotting and planning the next initiative. He has sent me details of some of his latest projects and also a photo of Pat Finucane taken outside the US Supreme Court when he visited the US in 1984 (which I will put up here shortly). Jack also sent on an interview Pat gave to the Washington Post at the time. He tears strips off the British Government for their human rights abuses but is also asked about the time he spent representing Bobby Sands.

He says of Bobby Sands: "He was a very great person, very intelligent, very politically aware, with great composure, self-disciplined. He was very much in control of the situation. He really thought he could cause change."

I hadn't seen that quote before and thought I'd share it with you on Easter eve.

Cookstown calling

My people on my mother's side hail from South Derry but I'm rarely back there.

Today, however, trying to find a cute way to reach Cookstown sharpish, I travelled through Ballyronan, Ballymcguigan and the Loop (where two of my grand-uncles are buried, one shot by loyalists, the other interned on the Argenta).

Truth be told, I was surprised at the amount of economic activity about, the traffic on the roads (does everyone know about this shortcut?) and impressed at the number of GAA pitches in fine shape.

Longest part of the journey was main street in Cookstown. A Good Friday lunchtime murder picture. I also noted the banners on the lamp posts, Cookstown: Retail capital of mid-Ulster. Inspiring. Not.

Earlier today, I met our partners in the Quarters conference to look at how we can best monitor progress in the quarters over the next 12 months and I'm confident we can actually create a criteria to score progress on several fronts (investments made, initiatives, public art/environmental uplift/ jobs created, benefits to community etc) over the next 12 months.

To whet your appetite, here's the report on the conference carried as a supplement in all our papers this week.

To usher you into the Easter weekend, here's Tom Dunne, Vice-President for Government Relations and Urban Affairs at Fordham University with the MP for West Belfast, Gerry Adams. Fr Joseph McShane, President of Fordham, dropped me a line with Easter greetings today to say he's looking forward to hosting part of the upcoming New York-New Belfast conference (8-10 June).

Playing catch up

I started the first meeting of the day at 9:05am, five minutes late and never caught up the rest of the day...right until I arrived in a last-minute rush for Sam Thompson's tour de force Over The Bridge at the Waterfront Hall today.

Martin Lynch paid due tribute to Thompson by staging this monumental work on the 50th anniversary of its effective banning by the Group Theatre.

It deals with sectarianism and trade unionism in 1960 Belfast, a period when decent people didn't talk about Belfast's underbelly.

It deserves a full review — the tearful response of the audience deserves that much — but for now, just one titbit. When my father worked in the shipyard, he said the benches became drums for the Sash My Father Wore. Quite a racket, intimidating too, when 200 men (minus one) unite in unison to belt out the Twelfth anthem.

Until tonight, I didn't really understand the terror of that experience but Over The Bridge contains a truly harrowing scene of shipyard intimidation which has given that story new resonance for me.