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Date Posted: 17:12:26 09/01/02 Sun
Author: 1995
Subject: Our Origins

Roots of the N-W Memorials Committee

The receptionist, one dull afternoon in 1995 at the Derry Journal newspaper office re-directed an outside call, "It's a person asking questions about the Great Famine, and everyone tells me it should be directed to you." "Hello", a man's voice said, "I am told that you're the best person to help me. It's like this. A number of bodies were unloaded unto Derry docks after being taken from a coffin-ship during the Famine", the caller began. "What was the name of the ship? What year? How many human remains? What's your name? Why do you want to know about this incident? - As usual the well-known Derry writer responded with a battery of his own questions, which must have seemed similar to a police interrogation. The caller didn't know anything except that there was "definitely a number of bodies laid out on Derry docks, during the "Famine", and he and a few Hibernian friends wanted to commemorate that incident in some way". He did however know that he didn't like using the term 'Famine', and on that worthy admission alone the DJ journalist decided, here's a fellow I will certainly assist, before even knowing his name.

The caller, it turned out was an uncle of the 1981 H-Block martyr, Patsy O'Hara, who had been a close friend and comrade of the journalist, who had also been an active member of the IRSP(1977-84). Patsy endured his own great hunger before death freed him from that barbed-wire Hell known as Long Kesh(later renamed - HMP The Maze). It transpired that leading members of the local Ancient Order of Hibernians(AOH) were highly interested in establishing some local home truths about An Ghorta Mhor, and suspected that the semi-official version that 'Ulster' was spared its worst horrors, might just be very far from the whole story.

A few days later a visit to the Central Library drew a blank. The placement journalist decided to write a "Do you know anything about a coffin-ship unloading bodies, etc." piece. The editor agreed, after some hesitation, it should go in. However, the editor expressed fears that as an historian and published author, using a by-line might attract more than a few jibes at nearby watering holes by admitting so publicly that he had not managed to gather any real facts. However, he would face that if need be. He was determined to obtain as much as possible, and present what he could find, to the original caller to the paper.

He felt that taking verbal flak would be a small price to pay, as 'publish and be damned', was also his own adopted motto. But he seemed damned already, because he had nothing specific to report. However, after a small piece was published on the 'no-story', around a dozen sheets of fax paper were handed to him, a few days later. Some messages had come from two widows whose husbands had written on the history of the city and its River Foyle, which creates it east and west banks, and divides the city in more ways than one. He now had little more than the actual year. It was 1848. At the first lull in a busy schedule he tripped off to the paper's archives, which began in 1772, and dusted off the very large and heavy volume, 1848, dated in gold. On a point of interest it was then called The Londonderry Journal.

A smallish man, and very conscious of such, he just about managed to carry the massive heavy volume, passing the public reception and those working on accounts. The latter department, he noted, had the most up-to-date coloured-screen computers. The hacks had mere Amstrad originals. No one offered to assist. Now sweating and swearing he tossed the burden down with a bang on the empty desk he had already cleared. The hard spine hit the desk, at an angle. The yellowish 1848 pages opened, fluttering, apparently at random. He started to look, asking himself, "Why the hell would one start researching in December?". About to close the book and re-open it at January, a cold shiver went down his spine and across the top of his legs. He was later to relate: "I experienced a cold tingling feeling, and felt goose-bumps. To my amazement, there in the centre of the right-hand page was a headline which read; TRAGEDY ABOARD THE LONDONDERRY." 72 men, women and children had been recklessly suffocated within 36 hours of leaving Sligo on December 1, 1848, bound for America via Liverpool.

He felt a bit weak and compelled to go out of the office, into the advertising section. He sought out a red-haired worker who was always very friendly in his manner. That worker took one look at him and said, "What's up with you, you look as if you've seen a ghost". He explained to him that he was not too far off the mark, and requested that he assist him in holding the bulky volume over a machine in the corridor, so that he could get a few photocopies. After glancing at the first copy, as it came through, his helper also admitted that he too was experiencing more than a few shivers, in the same places. This was the first of many strange experiences relating to this tragedy, which when both men studied such in detail, they felt deeply saddened to realise that it could all too easily have been avoided.

The phone rang on another day when the northwest correspondent of the Irish News decided he wanted him to write a piece on the coffin-ship tragedy. This was a manifestation of a growing and keen interest within the local radio and print media. Our DJ man thought, "All this started with a simple telephone call, but where will it all end?".

Part 1 of An Unfinished History.......

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