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When the only cure for TigerÕs ÔillnessÕ was Confession

Bernie Ni Fhlatharta



Date Published: {J}

I have a copy of a recent golf publication which shows Tiger Woods’ mansion – and literally dozens of TV vans parked outside. Each has an extendable mast, a camera atop each mast, and every van is fitted with a satellite dish ready to flash any unsuspecting pictures of Woods around the world.

Meanwhile, the cover of the latest edition of Phoenix magazine got the present controversy about right with a composite picture of Tiger Woods and ex-Anglo boss Seanie Fitzpatrick sitting side by side and involved in a rather rueful exchange.

Fitzpatrick is saying “they say I screwed the whole country,” and Tiger is replying . . . “I know the feeling”.

It is one of the cleverer takes on the Tiger situation regarding all those women. It is a controversy which still seems likely to run and run, despite Tiger making a shame- faced return to golf last week, saying he had spent 45 days in treatment for his “illness” and is deeply sorry for what had happened.

That “illness” would appear to be an addiction to sex – something that is common, it would seem, among billionaires and film stars, but known as simply being fond of a bit of the old ‘how’s your father’ among the commoner- garden mortals who people the rest of the world.

I think sports journalist Des Cahill spoke for all of the rest of us when he said that ‘sex addiction’ was widespread among his classmates in school . . . but maybe it was the times that were in it, for nobody thought of bringing us to a ‘shrink’ or a therapist, and we suffered on in the alternate glory and shame of the sin, followed by the repentance of Confession and a firm purpose of amendment that lasted until the next time.

Instead of putting us into therapy, a Christian Brother caught us by the ear, told us we were dirty little devils who needed a damned good hammering, and then delivered the instant therapy with a leather which was kept handy for just such sessions.

Something which made these therapy sessions pretty regular was that all of us had to be in ‘the Sodality’. Non-attendance at the Sodality Mass, or Communion, meant that we were on the short road to hell and had to be saved. Cue more wallops from ’the leather’ as they tried to beat the devil out of us.

In this way, we spent our teenage years in ‘therapy’ – not just 45 days living in the lap of luxury and chatting to a friendly shrink. However, devil the bit of good it did – most of us being particularly recidivist victims of this addiction to sex, randiness, or the thought of it.

We took the wallops, with no apparent change in our ‘condition’. In fact, the only things which seemed to keep the ‘illness’ at bay were lack of opportunity, lack of money, and some dire warnings about the eventual outcome which came in the form of stern reminders from the Brothers about the potential damage to ourselves.

It would appear that – at least in those days 50 years ago – this ‘illness’ from which we plainly suffered, was likely to result in permanent damage to our backs, shortsightedness, and an upsurge in pimples and acne. Which may account for a number of people of my acquaintance and era being chronic sufferers from ‘the back’, not to speak of an utter dependence on spectacles.

Of course this was also the era before there were many of what one might term ‘those sort of girls’ about the place. The vast majority were in the Legion of Mary and trooped into their Sodality sessions exuding manifest virtue.

For more, read this week’s Galway City Tribune.

Galway in Days Gone By

The way we were – Protecting archives of our past

Judy Murphy



A photo of Galway city centre from the county council's archives

People’s living conditions less than 100 years ago were frightening. We have come a long way. We talk about water charges today, but back then the local District Councils were erecting pumps for local communities and the lovely town of Mountbellew, according to Council minutes, had open sewers,” says Galway County Council archivist Patria McWalter.

Patria believes we “need to take pride in our history, and we should take the same pride in our historical records as we do in our built heritage”. When you see the wealth of material in her care, this belief makes sense.

She is in charge of caring for the rich collection of administrative records owned by Galway County Council and says “these records are as much part of our history as the Rock of Cashel is. They document our lives and our ancestors’ lives. And nobody can plan for the future unless you learn from the past, what worked and what didn’t”.

Archivists and librarians are often unfairly regarded as being dry, academic types, but that’s certainly not true of Patria. Her enthusiasm is infectious as she turns the pages of several minute books from Galway’s Rural District Councils, all of them at least 100 years old.

Part of her role involved cataloguing all the records of the Councils – Ballinasloe, Clifden, Galway, Gort, Loughrea, Mountbellew, Portumna and Tuam. These records mostly consisted of minutes of various meetings.

When she was cataloguing them she realised their worth to local historians and researchers, so she decided to compile a guide to their content. The result is For the Record: The Archives of Galway’s Rural District Councils, which will be a valuable asset to anybody with an interest in history.

Many representatives on these Councils were local personalities and several were arrested during the political upheaval of the era, she explains.

And, ushering in a new era in history, women were allowed to sit on these Rural District Councils – at the time they were not allowed to sit on County Councils.

All of this information is included in Patria’s introductory essay to the attractively produced A4 size guide, which gives a glimpse into how these Rural Councils operated and the way political thinking changed in Ireland during a short 26-year period. In the early 1900s, these Councils supported Home Rule, but by 1920, they were calling for full independence and refusing to recognise the British administration.

“I love the tone,” says Patria of the minutes from meetings. “The language was very emotive.”

That was certainly true of the Gort Rural District Council. At a meeting in 1907, following riots in Dublin at the premiere of JM Synge’s play, The Playboy of the Western World the councillors’ response was vehement. They recorded their decision to “protest most emphatically against the libellous comedy, The Playboy of the Western World, that was belched forth during the past week in the Abbey Theatre, Dublin, under the fostering care of Lady Gregory and Mr Yeats. We congratulate the good people of Dublin in howling down the gross buffoonery and immoral suggestions that are scattered throughout this scandalous performance.


For more from the archives see this week’s Tribunes here

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Archive News

Rory takes on fresh challenge as lauded DruidMurphy returns

Bernie Ni Fhlatharta



Date Published: 03-Apr-2013


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Archive News

After twenty years Sarah lands dream role in Druid

Bernie Ni Fhlatharta



Date Published: 04-Apr-2013

 Sarah Lynch has been living and breathing Druid Theatre since she wangled a job as a runner fresh out of college two decades ago at age 20. After holding down just about every role imaginable there – from company manager to director to stage manager – her appointment as general manager to one of the country’s most prestigious theatre companies last October seemed almost inevitable.

Because once she had tasted the fruit of Druid she was going nowhere . . . and going everywhere. Sarah’s tenure at Druid since 1998 has brought her on a journey that has reached just about every corner of the globe and almost all the islands off Ireland in between.

After graduating from Limerick with a degree in French and English Sarah spent a stint teaching in a secondary school. But it immediately became clear that wasn’t the road for her.

“One thing I was always certain of was I’d be involved in the performing arts, whether on stage or off stage or behind it. The immediate reaction of the audience is such a buzz,” she grins.

Her earliest memory was of her grandfather, Bud Clancy, on stage with his trumpet and dance band. “I must have been three or four because he died shortly after that. But it never left me. I got bitten by the bug. I started playing the trumpet. A friend of my grandfather taught me how to play and I was with the Limerick brass and reed orchestra known as the Boherbuoy Band, I was just a kid with all these adults.”

She learned to play other brass instruments such as the French horn and cornet before turning her hand to the guitar and song-writing. “I taught myself guitar. Sometime I tinker on the piano and I think that’s my next instrument. I love percussion. You can’t get me off a drum kit for love or money. Many is the night I’ve made a fool of myself on one of those,” she laughs.

In 2010, Sarah released her debut album, Letter to Friends, which was launched by playwright Enda Walsh, whose short play, Lynndie’s Gotta Gun, she had directed as part of the 2008 Galway Arts Festival.

The collection of songs was produced by Wayne Sheehy, a musician she had met when opening for Juliet Turner on Turner’s Burn the Black Suit tour.

“I could probably have done it ten years ago but for the manic schedule with Druid and touring so much,” she reflects. “I haven’t done much with it since. I used to play gigs in the Róisín Dubh. The bigger twin is theatre at the moment. The bigger twin bullies the other twin. You don’t get much time to do music.”

After fleeing the classroom, Sarah knocked on the door of a former college mate, Andrew Flynn, now with the Galway Youth Theatre, who kindly offered up his couch. He also managed to get her a job as a runner – the person who does everything from making tea to helping with props – on a Druid production of As You Like It.

“I remember working with Mark O’Halloran, I had great fun with him. There was Helen Norton, it was Maeliosa Stafford directing. He’s coming back to the Druid after ten years to star in Tom Murphy’s A Whistle in the Dark. He left me as a runner, now I’m general manager.”

Much of Sarah’s time behind the scenes at Druid has been spent on the road. In 2009 alone, Druid toured to Australia, Canada, the UK and the USA presenting 364 performances in 26 venues.

Indeed so much of life has been out spent living of a suitcase that she gave up her base in Galway to move back in with her family in Caherdavin, on the Galway side of Limerick city.

The tour of the Cripple of Inishmaan by Martin McDonagh was so long the crew were instructed to pack two suitcases, one with summer clothes, the other winter gear, as they would be spanning the seasons. Her job now entails a lot of commuting, but driving is where she gets a lot of thinking done.

Sarah’s decision to apply for the more home-based job of general manager was one she made discreetly while on the Druid Murphy tour around the US. She had to undergo her interview in between shows at the Lincoln Center in New York. It was the most nerve wrecking experience of her life, she admits.

For more, read this week’s Galway City Tribune.

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