Telling our children the truth about gay marriage

The renowned stylist Gok Wan was on television over the weekend. As soon as he appeared, my nine-year-old son asked me if the man on the telly was gay.
 
I hesitated for a moment before responding, truthfully, that as far as I knew he was. What had made him think that?

"He seems very happy," came the reply, at which point my seven-year joined in the conversation.

"Well, maybe that's why he's called gay because gay also means happy," he reasoned.

Children today are no fools. I had once explained to mine that the word gay meant happy. They quickly informed me that gay also means a man being in love with another man or a woman being in love with a woman. 

Sure all they have to do these days is look at an episode of 'The Simpsons' to hear the word bandied about. That's why I made the decision to cut the pretence. By trying to 'protect' them from the reality of the word, was I fostering prejudice by giving the impression that there was something wrong with same sex relationships?

When I was growing up the word gay was used in a pejorative way. If something wasn't good, it was gay. If you didn't like something, it was gay. If somebody was different in any way, they were gay. It was a word favoured by the schoolyard bully. You got a hiding off them if you were deemed to be gay in any of its guises.

Ireland has belatedly grown up since then and some of us like to think we are more liberal and worldly now. We now realise that gay men and women are to be found in the most prominent positions. We have gay business people, gay television presenters, gay sports stars and gay politicians.
 
Many of them rightly choose to wear their sexuality openly and proudly. It's there for all of us to see. So what exactly are we protecting our children from by telling them that gay simply means happy?

In my view it is far better for a parent to teach their child the values of tolerance, inclusiveness and diversity; that to discriminate against a person on the grounds of their sexuality is as wrong as being racist.

The debate on marriage equality has got off to an unsavoury start after the Panti Bliss/Iona Institute affair (not that they're having an affair, just in case their lawyers are reading this!). Our children are going to hear a lot of talk about gay rights on television and on the radio in the coming months. The issue will be impossible to avoid. Inevitably there will be innocent questions asked. Whatever side of the debate you're on, at least try to give your kids a positive answer.

Kenneth Egan is a champion choice by FG

I was always a bit suspicious of political parties recruiting celebrity candidates in the run up to elections.

On the face of it, it smacks of desperation. Why should a big name have the right to serve as a public representative on the basis that they are well known? What about the hard-working party activists who have cut their teeth in political activism at grassroots level over the years?

These are the men and women putting leaflets through your doors at election time or organising local fundraisers for the party. Some of them may harbour political ambitions of their own and have a justifiable expectation that they can put themselves forward at a selection convention.

There have been some worthy celebrity candidates over the years, chief among them RTE's George Lee who romped home in the Dublin South By-Election in 2009. Unfortunately, it seemed that Lee had unrealistic expectations in terms what he could achieve as a TD and it wasn't long before he quit and returned to Montrose.

Not all celebrity candidates - despite their impeccable credentials - connect with the electorate. Chernobyl children's champion Adi Roche didn't do the business as Labour's nominee in the 1997 Presidential Election. Similarly, that party's decision to put former RTE journalist Orla Guerin on the European Elections ticket in 1994 didn't pay off, largely due to the resistance of Labour's officially selected candidate, the formidable Bernie Malone.

Celebrity candidates are back in the news. Olympic boxing hero Kenny Egan is to run for Fine Gael in the Clondalkin ward in the local elections in May. I am largely supportive of this decision for a number of reasons.

•Kenny Egan (centre) pictured with Paddy Barnes and the late Darren Sutherland after their victories in the 2008 Olympics. Photo by Darren Kinsella

I don't believe that big name candidates have the right to represent us in the Dail without having first served as a democratically elected councillor at local level. Many of our senior politicians started as members of a local authority and celebrities should be no different.

The fact that Egan is willing to stand in front of the electorate at ground floor level is admirable in itself. If elected, he will have to sit through mundane meetings about planning applications, road improvement schemes and council budgets. If he has the stomach for this, he may decide to put himself forward as a candidate in a future general election.

Moreover, Egan will be standing in an area that has seen its fair share of social problems, where young people are often exposed to drugs and crime. Many of them have zero interest in politics and feel alienated, disillusioned and disinterested.

To see a sporting role model such as Kenneth Egan stand for election may encourage younger people to engage with politics and local issues. Egan has also openly spoken about his former battle with alcohol and is happy to share his experiences with local youth.

Kenny Egan is proof positive that you can overcome the obstacles life throws at you. This is a powerful message to be able to convey to the youth of Clondalkin and young people at large. As celebrity candidates go, Egan is a solid and sensible choice.

The scene inside the Stardust as fire took hold

Tonight marks the 34rd anniversary of the Stardust fire. In this edited extract from the book 'They Never Came Home - the Stardust Story', we recall the scene inside the doomed nightclub as the blaze took hold.

•The Stardust nightclub pictured after the fire

The excitement in the Stardust was reaching fever pitch. Hundreds had gathered around the dance floor to see who would win the disco dancing competition. Albert Buckley joined his sister-in-law, Christine, on the floor. Together they watched Albert's younger brother, Errol, going through his moves. He was getting the loudest cheers from the crowd and easily stood out from the other competitors taking part in the final.

Just after 1.30am, DJ Danny Hughes stopped the music momentarily to announce that a boy and girl had been selected as the winners. The Buckley brothers were ecstatic when Errol was announced as the best of the men. The girl chosen from the three dozen hopefuls was 15-year-old Paula McDonald from Coolock.

Errol had brought the house down with his fantastic dance routine to the Patrick Fernandez disco hit, 'Born to be Alive'. He punched the air as he stepped up onto the stage to be presented with his prize by Hughes - a £25 K-Tel record voucher. The winning couple were invited to perform a victory dance on the stage and the large crowd of onlookers gathered to clap along to the song. Another DJ, Colm O Briain, took the microphone and encouraged the audience to join in on the dance floor. Hundreds took him up on the offer and danced to what was to be one of the last songs of the night. It was now 1.41am.

At the western side of the ballroom approximately fifty people were sitting or standing around five tables. Behind them was a roller blind made from a PVC-coated, polyester fabric. Split into five sections, the curtain was lowered to partition off an alcove of banked seating stretching to and along the side wall. The west alcove itself was the smaller of two such sections in the the Stardust. It measured over seventeen metres in length and ten metres in depth. There were eight tiers of seats, with each tier containing fifteen units of double seats. Some of the regular patrons of the Stardust remember being surprised when they arrived at the disco that night to find that the west alcove was sealed off and the larger north alcove was open. Usually the reverse was the case, with the north alcove only opened if the numbers warranted it.

Some of the people in this area were standing on tables and chairs to get a better view of the disco competition. A couple of girls stood on the ledge where the curtain came to the floor and were resting their backs against the partition. While the attention of most people was directed towards the dance floor, those standing against the curtain started to notice the smell of something burning. Linda Bishop was sitting at the first table in front of the blind, next to the main bar. As she was watching the end of the competition, she noticed a sudden rise in temperature. This surprised her because she had spent most of the night feeling cold. She mentioned to her friend, Sandra Hatton, that she thought the management had switched on the central heating. They both wondered why anyone might have done that, considering it was close to the end of the night. The girls shrugged their shoulders and got up to dance to one of their favourite songs, 'Lorraine', by Bad Manners.

Those remaining at the tables also started to smell smoke and they, too, felt a surge in temperature. Moments later, others sitting or standing in the area noticed a glow behind the curtain. Jacqueline McCarthy, from Kilbarrack, had just returned to her seat when she caught a strong smell of smoke. Suddenly she felt a blast of heat. More curious than her friends, Jacqueline lifted up the curtain beside her to glance underneath. What she saw filled her with instant dread. She ran past groups of people and rushed towards the main door. She grabbed the arm of a bouncer standing inside the foyer and shouted at him: "They've started a fire up in the corner."

More people peered behind the curtain as the glow behind it intensified. On top of three seats in tiers seven, eight and nine of row A, they could see a small fire. One girl described it as "quite small". An eyewitness later told police that the back of just one seat was on fire and "it could easily have been put out if somebody had thrown a coat over it". Gerard Quinn said he thought there was something in the shape of a coat lying on the seat in flames. By now, most of the people sitting in this area could smell what they would later describe as "burning tyres". While hundreds still danced away to the music, people standing at the side of the dance floor sensed a commotion and turned around, thinking that a fight had broken out behind them.

On stage, the assistant DJ was sifting through the record collection to select the final track of the night. He put a popular Adam and the Ants song on the turntable. The attention of some of the dancers facing the stage was now drawn towards the curtained-off area to the right-hand side. At first, all they noticed was a small flickering glow behind the curtain. However, as they turned around to get a better look, some light smoke appeared to slowly rise over the partition and drift across the ceiling. Most of them thought it was just a special disco effect that the DJ had set off to coincide with the end of the competition. They ignored it and continued on dancing.

•'They Never Came Home - the Stardust Story', by Neil Fetherstonhaugh and Tony McCullagh, was originally published in 2001 and was 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

Why I was wrong about Garth Brooks

In the interests of full disclosure I should first declare that I am a self-confessed music snob. I'm of a generation that revered the classic double albums of the 1970s and treated the release of a David Bowie or Pink Floyd record as if it were some sort of second coming. I'm a handy man to have on your team in a pub quiz, if only for my encyclopedic knowledge of music trivia. In short, I'm a bit of a bore; an anorak, if you will.

•Garth Brooks pictured during his 1997 Croke Park show. Photo by Darren Kinsella

Music snobs have a nasty habit of looking down on the personal tastes of others and I'm no exception. For two decades I have derided the rise and rise of the boy bands, from Take That and Boyzone to Westlife and One Direction. I also despise musicals, be they of the classic Andrew Lloyd Webber variety or the risible 'Mama Mia' kind.

Last month, the world's forgotten musical cowboy rode into town on his trusty steed (well, it was a private jet actually). Garth Brooks was on the comeback trail. And where better to kick things off than Croker, the scene of his triumphant concerts in 1997. I struggled to remember more than two of his songs - the jokey one and the serious one. I almost recalled a third before realising that 'Achy Breaky Heart' wasn't actually his song. But you can understand my mistake.

The sight of Garth back on our shores triggered traumatic flashbacks of line-dancing, the evil first cousin of country and western music. Back in the late '90s we were on the cusp of economic salvation, courtesy of Bertie Ahern and his merry band. Peace in our time was just one year away in Northern Ireland. Things were looking grand. Sure what could possibly go wrong?

We are older now; hopefully a bit wiser as well. Fianna Fail helped screw the country and most of us can't afford the price of the bus fare to Croker, never mind a concert ticket. I smugly predicted that Garth Brooks would struggle to fill the stadium for one night; two at a push.

But then something extraordinary happened. So-called friends started to express their love for the country crooner on social media sites and bemoaned their failure to secure a ticket. Honestly, you think you know someone. It was like suddenly finding out that your mates had been members of a secret sect for all these years. Friends in low places indeed.

As I write, the feeding frenzy to secure tickets for a fourth concert on July 28 has just ended and a fifth date has been announced. A fifth! How foolish do I look now? I had posted a snide comment on Facebook just a few weeks ago that Garth Brooks was "music for people who don't like music". My wife told me it was a disgraceful thing to say. She had seen Garth Brooks chatting to one of the TV3 Xpose girls and he seemed like a lovely fella.

And therein lies his appeal. He is a very affable, likable, inoffensive chap. He also comes across as humble. We like that too. But more importantly, he likes us. Irish people like to be liked, particularly by Americans, be they presidents, actors or country music superstars. For some reason it makes us feel good about ourselves. Perhaps it's our post-colonial insecurity or something.

And if going to Croker to see a 51-year old in a stetson perform his back catalogue helps lift the mist of post-Celtic Tiger misery, then who am I to judge? Just don't expect to see me there.

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