How Stardust song landed Christy Moore in court

On February 14 it will be 33 years since the Stardust disaster in Artane shocked and shamed the nation. The harrowing stories of the families, survivors and campaigners for justice were painstakingly documented in the number one bestselling book 'They Never Came Home - the Stardust Story, which I co-wrote with Neil Fetherstonhaugh. In this edited extract, we recount how singer Christy Moore's poignant musical tribute to the victims of the fire led to the greatest controversy of his career and ultimately landed him in court. 

•Christy Moore and Stardust campaigner Christine Keegan pictured at a 2006 protest at the scene of the tragedy in Artane. Moore has remained close to the victims' families over the years. PHOTO BY DARRREN KINSELLA

In tandem with their painful battle for compensation, relatives of the Stardust victims campaigned tirelessly to ensure that their loved ones would never be forgotten. It would take more than a decade before successive governments would make good on a promise to provide a permanent memorial to the victims. The campaign to honour the Stardust dead is a story of political inaction, broken promises and profound disappointment. It is also a story of censorship.

Like so many others, Irish folk singer Christy Moore was deeply affected by the tragedy. Despite the countless number of gigs he had played at home and abroad since his career began in the 1960s, the singer remembers exactly where he was performing when he heard about the Stardust. At the time he was a member of the critically acclaimed band Moving Hearts, who were playing the first of two concerts in Thomastown, County Kilkenny, on the night of the fire. The band considered cancelling the second show on account of the news but decided to go ahead and donate the proceeds from the gig to the Stardust disaster fund. A minute's silence was observed during the emotional performance.

Christy Moore was renowned for performing socially conscious songs that covered topics ranging from Travellers' rights to the conflict in Northern Ireland. No stranger to controversy, Moore's emotive ballads about the hunger strikes of 1981 had been banished from the airwaves. One of his most popular songs, 'Back Home in Derry', was banned after the authorities realised it was written by the late Bobby Sands, who died on hunger strike three months after the Stardust tragedy. The reaction on that occasion was no surprise to him. But little did the singer realise how much trouble he would be in over a song about a fire in Artane.

In the aftermath of the tragedy, Moore wanted to write a song in honour of the Stardust victims. The song's title came about after he heard a mother tell a television reporter that her daughters went out one night "but they never came home". Moore's acute sense of injustice was heightened by the fact that the families and victims had yet to receive any compensation for their loss and suffering. By this stage, the Butterlys had settled their malicious damages claim against Dublin Corporation. The irony of the situation was not lost on the singer.

•You can listen to the song and read its lyrics here

"I used Woody Guthrie's technique of describing events to create not only a picture of the event, but also the underlying inequalities, injustice and blatant discrimination that still exist in our society," wrote Moore in his autobiography. "I just heard a mother utter that sentence and it struck a chord and convinced me that I needed to write about this. I wrote it because I try to write songs about things that affect me. I'm always seeking to express my anger or my sorrow or my sense fun by the things I see around me. I certainly wanted to write about the Stardust because, I suppose, I felt there was a class thing involved as well."

After enjoying considerable success in the 1970s, both as a solo artist and with the influential traditional Irish group Planxty, Moore hit the big time in 1984 with his 'Ride On' album. His eagerly awaited follow-up, 'Ordinary Man', was released during the summer of 1985. The Stardust song, 'They Never Came Home', was the second last track on the album. The record was officially launched in O'Donoghue's pub on Merrion Row in Dublin on July 29. Journalist Gene Kerrigan, writing for Magill magazine at the time, noted: "There were good songs on the album but the most deeply felt was 'They Never Came Home' - the Stardust song.

Just days after the launch, Clive Hudson of WEA, Moore's record label, received a letter from legal representatives of the Stardust owners. It claimed 'They Never Came Home' was in contempt of court. it contained, they contended, a comment on matters still before the courts. The album was already in the shops and had been receiving considerable airplay on the radio. WEA was forced to recall the album from record stores and contact radio stations, urging them not to broadcast the song in case the allegation of contempt was upheld in court.

Moore was stunned. It had never entered his mind that the song would be the subject of a legal challenge.

"In my innocence I didn't have the song vetted," he recalls. "We just went for it and I suppose that anybody who had heard the song prior to its release assumed that it was telling the truth."

Around 12,000 copies of the 'Ordinary Man' album had been produced and distributed. It was already number one in the album charts. 'They Never Came' home was also the B-side of Moore's latest single, 'Delirium Tremens', which was number six in the Irish music charts. Despite every effort by WEA, both the album and the single were still available in a number of Dublin outlets by the time the contempt case came before a special vacation sitting of the High Court on August 9, 1985. While Moore found the prospect of a court case stressful, he was more concerned about the effect it would have on the Stardust families. He feared they would think the song exploited their situation. He needn't have worried - many of the families turned up in court to express their solidarity with the singer.

"I was scared going into the High Court," Moore later wrote. "It was a high-profile case and I was most concerned, both about the likely outcome and how the case itself would affect the bereaved families and the injured survivors. The court was thronged and there in the front seats were many, many families of the lost and the injured who came out to support me. It was a very moving realisation for me."

The High Court action was based on complaints that the song would prejudice the outcome of litigation concerning over 200 compensation claims resulting from the Stardust fire. The application by Eamon Butterly, Scott's Foods Ltd and Silver Swan Ltd was for an order of attachment for contempt against the author and singer of the song, Christy Moore; the song's producer, Donal Lunny; and WEA (Ireland), distributors of the record.

Counsel for the Butterlys, Brian Dempsey, said it was his clients' view that some of the words of the song interfered with and prejudiced issues which were sub judice (in the course of the trial) and in contention already before the courts. One lyric complained of went: "Just how the fire started, sure no-one can tell." This was inaccurate and misleading, Mr Dempsey argued, as Dublin Circuit Court had determined that the fire had been started maliciously in the case taken by the Butterlys' companies against Dublin Corporation. Mr Dempsey said it was also inaccurate to state, as the song did, that "hundreds of children are injured and maimed, and all just because the fire exists were chained."

An affidavit from Christy Moore was read to the court stating that the subject of the song was, in his opinion, a matter of public and social concern. He had been unaware that the subject matter and the words were capable of prejudicing the applicants' defence in other proceedings. If this was the case, it was deeply regretted. But counsel for the Butterlys claimed that the overall effect of the song was that, through the media and on the radio, almost everyone in Dublin would come to know as a definite "fact" that the locking of the doors had caused the Stardust deaths.

•The aftermath of the 1981 fire

Sean MacBride, Senior Counsel for Christy Moore, Donal Lunny and WEA, said his clients did not concede that there had been any contempt of court. He pointed out that the Stardust tragedy had been widely discussed and debated in the public arena for over four years, including on a number of television programmes. MacBride also described WEA's efforts to stop distribution of the record as soon as they learned of the contempt proceedings.

Mr Justice Frank Murphy found that the song was in contempt of court. He ruled that the lyrics of the song contained statements or comments calculated to prejudice a fair trial of matters already before the courts, in particular the statement about the fire exits being chained. Justice Murphy said the question of punishment did not arise, as the statements complained of had been made unintentionally. He also took into account the fact that the parties involved had endeavoured, to the best of their ability, to limit the damage by stopping publication and halting distribution of the record.

The decision came as a bitter blow to Christy Moore and his record company. As a result of the verdict, the song could no longer be promoted, distributed or sold in shops in Ireland. 'They Never Came Home' effectively had been banned.

"I was shocked," says Moore of the verdict. "I didn't know to what extent the court case was going to run. I was very innocent of such things.

As a dejected Christy Moore and his manager, Mattie Fox, left the High Court, they were approached by a Stardust victim, Larry Stout, who wanted to say thanks to the singer. Stout, a painter/decorator whose hands were badly disfigured in the fire, felt the song had done the relatives and victims a great service by highlighting their case. Christine and John Keegan, who had also attended the court hearing, shook hands with the singer. "Thanks Christy, thanks," was all that Christine could say.

Although no punishment was imposed on Christy Moore or the record company by Justice Murphy, the implications of the ruling were punitive by their very nature. Thousands of singles and albums were recalled and destroyed by WEA and a new song had to be recorded in place of 'They Never Came Home' for a reissued version of 'Ordinary Man'. Costs in the High Court case were also awarded against the singer. The whole episode cost Christy Moore, his manager and record company in the region of £100,000.

Ironically, the new song was recorded close to where the Stardust had been, in Nicky Ryan's Artane studio. Up against a three hour deadline, the song was literally recorded as it was being rewritten. The result was 'Another Song is Born', a powerful, emotion-packed ballad with an angry undercurrent.

"I suppose in a way it's a much angrier song," says Moore. "Sometimes when you have to find a different way to say something, you find a more powerful way to say it."

The banning of 'They Never Came Home' (it was eventually released on a Christy Moore box set in 2004) has not discouraged him from writing controversial material. Since then, however, all his songs are first vetted for potential legal problems before finding their way onto his albums. After the victims' compensation battle was over, he continued to play the Stardust song live in concert, although it was suggested that he shouldn't sing the offending line.

"It doesn't matter if that line is in or not," insists Moore, "because in a way it's not a particularly important line in the song. With or without that line, the song still tells the truth."

To this day Moore feels that in the case of the Stardust tragedy, justice wasn't served.

"I think the whole thing was handled very cynically," he says.

•'They Never Came Home - the Stardust Story', by Neil Fetherstonhaugh and Tony McCullagh, was originally published in 2001 and reprinted as an updated edition in 2006. The book was adapted for the award-winning RTE two part drama, 'Stardust'. Limited copies still available on Amazon http://www.amazon.com/They-Never-Came-Home-Stardust/dp/1903582636

 

©Neil Fetherstonhaugh and Tony McCullagh

Racist taxi driver sets the wrong tone

How much racism can you cram into a 10-minute taxi journey? Judging by the experience I had yesterday, quite a lot.

I hopped into the back of a taxi at the rank outside Connolly Station to make the short journey to Adelaide Road in the south city. Within seconds I was subjected to the rantings of a man who, in another era perhaps, would have loved nothing more than donning a white hood for his weekly clan meeting.

It all started when I asked an innocuous question, thinking it would initiate the type of smalltalk typical of your average taxi journey. I enquired if the Amiens Street rank was good for getting regular fares, unwittingly unleashing a torrent of vile, racist comment.

"There are too many blacks using this rank in the evenings," he blithely informed me. "People won't get into the cars with them so they cross the road to get a taxi instead. If you're stuck behind them all the way back to Sheriff Street, this means the queue on the rank is very slow to move."

Shocked and appalled, I wondered aloud if people didn't get into cars driven by foreign nationals because they were racist.

"Not at all," he retorted. "It's because those black fellas don't know where they're going half the time."

He also claimed that many "coloured" drivers are involved in a scam, whereby one of them has the taxi licence but up to three of them share the driving duties. This means that some are driving without insurance, he helpfully pointed out.

We had barely crossed the Liffey when he offered an absurd and highly offensive theory as to why there are so many foreign nationals in Ireland.

"Do you remember when you were younger and they were always looking for money to help the black babies?" he continued, despite my obvious discomfort at where this conversation was going. "Now all those black babies have grown up and they've come over here to say thanks for the money."

I think this was intended as a joke but I can't be sure.

The car stopped at traffic lights at Baggot Street and I was tempted to jump out and walk away without paying. However, being already late for an important hospital appointment, I reluctantly made the selfish decision to stay put.

As we arrived at my destination, he had just finished telling me a yarn about a passenger who objected to being referred to as "coloured". She reasoned that "white" people turn blue when they're cold; turn brown when they get a tan; go red when they get sunburnt. Black people, she pointed out, stay the same. So, if anything, it's white people that could be described as "coloured".

He had dismissed her comments as a bit of banter but I reckon the woman was trying to make a point in the face of his blatant racism.

My 10-minute journey seemed like an hour. I got out of the car ashamed of my own inaction. My muted response was intended as a protest but may have been interpreted by him as indifference. By not speaking out, I was giving his racist views a voice. I should have taken his details and reported him to the regulator but I failed to do so. Not my finest hour, I have to admit.

We sometimes hear of the stereotypical taxi driver with a chip on his shoulder about foreign nationals and blatantly racist views. In my experience, though, most Dublin taxi drivers are decent individuals who are courteous, friendly and tolerant. As in every walk of life, it's the small minority that give everyone else an undeserved reputation. But as bad apples go, this particular driver was in a rotten barrel all of his own.

The stories that made the headlines in our first edition, May 1987

The first edition of Northside People hit the streets in May 1987.

Formed by ex-employees of Dublin Newspapers – which had gone into liquidation the previous month – the paper was originally based in Dundrum Castle.

So what was making the headlines north of the Liffey back then?

The paper’s first lead story centred on a row between a group of angry parents and Portmarnock Community School. Parents voiced their unhappiness after their children failed to secure places in the school for the coming term and threatened to take legal action if the matter was not resolved.

However, the school’s principal, Pat O’Leary, laid the blame squarely with the Department of Education, saying they had warned of an acute shortage of school places in post-primary schools for many years.

He said that the school had been designed to cater for 800 pupils but now had 920, with 100 more on the way the following year.

“You just can’t get two pints of milk into a pint bottle,” he told Northside People.

Inside the paper we reported that Government proposals for a unified ferry terminal – incorporating both Dublin Port and Dun Laoghaire services – were now almost certain to be scrapped. This followed separate surveys on the proposal by the Office of Public Works and the Port and Docks Board.

We also raved about a new book written by a secondary school teacher called 'The Committments'. While our review was largely positive, we warned that the book “is written with the aid of a large measure of four letter words and is definitely not for those who are prone to offence”.

Somewhat prophetically, we concluded that ‘The Commitments’ looked set to mark the beginning of “a new and exciting spate of books dealing specifically with the Northside – not to mention Kilbarrack, home of the blues”.

We trust that Roddy Doyle was motivated by our positive review to eventually give up the teaching job and have a stab at the auld writing full-time.

In politics, we featured an interview with the former Fine Gael TD Alice Glenn, described in our introduction as “an outspoken critic of all that is lax and liberal in Irish Society”.

Outlining her opposition to the Single European Act, she warned it would impose a “secular humanist ideology” on the country and that abortion, divorce and euthanasia would be “forced upon the people of this State”.

In his ‘video scene’ column, our first editor Tim O’Brien (now a journalist with the Irish Times) reviewed new releases such as ‘National Lampoon’s European Vacation’, ‘Ruthless People’ and ‘The Supergrass’.

Our motoring page gushed enthusiastically about the new Opel Omega, with prices starting from £18,000. 

Ending on a positive note, a report on our back page confirmed that Beaumont Hospital would be open and operational by the end of the year.

Judged against today’s production standards, the first edition of Northside People looks dated, although we were all very proud of it at the time. However, lurking between its 12 modest pages were local stories about local people doing things locally. And that's a tradition we like to think we have proudly carried with us to the present day.

 www.dublinpeople.com

When Aslan lost Christy

On joining Northside People in January 1989, one of my first acts was to introduce a music page into the paper to connect with our younger readers. Within weeks I had landed my first scoop in the form of an exclusive interview with the remaining members of Aslan. 

Fans of the Finglas band were shocked in 1988 when, at the peak of their success, lead singer Christy Dignam split from the band due to his well-publicised battle with heroin addiction. The remaining members of the band attempted to carry on without him, recruiting singer Eamon Doyle (pictured below left with Tony McGuinness and Billy McGuinness).

  

  I interviewed the 'new' Aslan in early 1989 ahead of a comeback show in the SFX. When we met in their management office near the Ha'penny Bridge, they were full of enthusiasm and praise for Eamon, who certainly looked the part of rock singer. However, it was hard to believe that they could carry on without Christy Dignam who was such an integral part of Aslan's sound. In their heart of hearts, somehow I don't think even they believed it would work.

The band trundled on for a while before splitting, going on to gig as The Precious Stones, while Christy formed Dignam and Goff (pictured below).

They eventually reunited with Dignam in 1993 for what was supposed to be a one-off show in Finglas. In Darren Kinsella's photo below, Christy is pictured during that legendary South Band Show gig with daughter Keira, now a singer in her own right. That show made them all realise that they still had the magic when they played together. Shortly after that, hit single 'Crazy World' led the band on the road to years of success, much to the delight of their fans. 

Memories of Howth's lost hotels

I visited Howth recently and was struck by how much commercial life on the peninsula had changed. Having grown up in Baldoyle in the 1970s and '80s, I've always had an affinity with Howth, which was the posher playground of our childhood and the hunting ground of our teenage years.
My first ever job was in the St Lawrence Hotel, where I worked every weekend as a hall porter and later as a (short-lived) trainee chef.

The St Lawrence Hotel

It was tough work at the best of times but provided me with enough pocket money to keep my parents happy. It also convinced me that I definitely didn't want to be a chef! On Thursday nights, I would fill in for the regular car park attendant, Noddy, for the princely sum of £1.50 per hour. The tips were good, though, and it was well worth the 2am cycle home to Baldoyle.

The St Lawrence Hotel is sadly no more and gone with it are the memories of Saints nightclub, later Goodtime Charlie's. This was the hotel where the all-you-can-eat carvery earned legendary status in an era when dining out was a somewhat exotic experience.

Gone too is the Baily Court Hotel in the centre of the village. I have a very vivid memory of queuing outside its function room for over an hour to see In Tua Nua in their heyday, only to be turned away by the gorilla on the door. Even the fake ID didn't cut it.
My luck had improved by the time I graduated from Pobalscoil Neasain in 1987 and the Baily Court was the venue for our school graduation night.

The Baily Court Hotel

                                                                         
For some reason I recall that this hotel was originally called the Royal Hotel and was owned by the singer Joe Cuddy but I am open to correction on this. The closure of the Baily Court was another major blow to the life of Howth village when it ceased trading but I still cherish my memories of the good times I had there with friends and family over the years. It was also home to a great carvery, giving the Lawrence Hotel a run for its money.

At the beginning of the cliff walk at the opposite end of the peninsula, the red bricked Sutton Castle Hotel offered majestic views across Dublin Bay to the other side of the city. I attended some incredible functions here, ranging from fundraising nights to 21st birthday parties and weddings. It was one of the nicest places in Dublin to enjoy a quiet Sunday pint and is perhaps the most missed of all the great hotels of the Howth peninsula.

Sutton Castle Hotel

At the entrance to Howth Village, just across the railway level crossing, was the Howth Lodge Hotel. Overlooking Ireland's Eye, this was another popular venue for weddings and functions. Strangely, though, my most vivid memory of of this hotel is having to attend a Fine Gael selection convention there in the early 1990s. Located close to U2 drummer Larry Mullen's pad, the Howth Lodge Hotel was another great loss to the local landscape.

The Howth Lodge Hotel

Don't get me wrong: Howth is still a great place to visit and remains a thriving jewel in Dublin's crown. But for me and others of my generation, it can't hold a candle to the glory days when Howth's hotels offered ordinary people a rare taste of opulence.
t.mccullagh@dublinpeople.com

Hard sell by the banks scarred the landscape

It seems that the Government is to make good on its promise to demolish up to 40 so-called ghost estates.
These developments are widely considered to be scars from the Celtic Tiger years and few will bemoan their removal from the landscape. Only properties deemed to be economically unviable will be selected for demolition. In other words, estates that were built outside the commuter belts where there are few employment opportunities and inadequate services or public transport.
There was a time when gullible investors might have been tempted to invest in a three-bed semi in the middle of nowhere to add to their growing portfolio. Irish dinner parties (remember them?) were once dominated by conversations about property values. Those who didn't participate in this modern day gold rush were not just considered to be risk averse - they were nothing short of fools for failing to cash in on the boom.
But as we all know now, the boom was just a credit fuelled illusion. Wealth was judged on how much you were able to borrow, not on your ability to repay it.
I recall being pulled from the queue of a bank by a manager in the midst of all the madness. She wanted to have a quiet word about an apparent financial irregularity. According to their records, I seemed to have a mortgage on just one property (my family home). At the same time, the modest sum in my deposit account was just sitting there, doing nothing really. Clearly, this was a situation that needed to be addressed by the bank.
I was reminded of the bank's willingness to facilitate me should I feel the need to borrow for some sort of investment property.
I remember feeling slightly flattered that I should be considered so credit worthy by the bank, while at the same time a bit uncomfortable with the hard sell approach to lending.
And we all know where that got us.
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