Month: December 2023

The Minister for Justice Helen McEntee recently launched a “safety plan” for Dublin’s north inner city, involving the deployment of “community safety wardens.” The Dublin North Inner City Local Community Safety Plan aims to tackle drug dealing, street crime and dumping.

It has been hailed by many as a positive initiative, but there is confusion about the role of the wardens. Some are under the impression that these wardens will be tackling criminals and walking the beat armed with pepper spray. That’s not the case and if it’s properly resourced, it could be great for Dublin, but that’s a big “if.”

It worked well in Cork when it was introduced back in 2008 and was based on the theory of the broken window, a crime prevention philosophy that has inspired many police forces across the world to police their jurisdictions in a certain way.

The theory suggests that if you deal with the minor offences as they arise, you will make it difficult for the more serious crimes to get a foothold. If, for example, you have a vacant house in an estate with a few broken windows as a result of anti-social behaviour, they should be fixed as soon as possible. If the problem is ignored and the windows are not repaired, it encourages further vandalism.

The same theory applies to litter and rubbish. Where rubbish is dumped in an area and nothing is done about it, the problem escalates. The amount of litter increases because there is an impression that it is acceptable. But when remedial action is taken as soon as possible, it discourages bad behaviour.

The message is simple; deal with the small stuff and the bigger stuff won’t become a problem. That kind of engagement between gardai, the community and the local authority works but putting it into practice requires resources. It was very successful in Cork until the cutbacks kicked in.

The Dublin initiative will struggle too unless it is adequately resourced and there are mixed messages coming from the capital in that regard. Minister McEntee and the garda commissioner continue to insist that everything is fine in the world of policing. They say they have adequate resources to police the city effectively.

The problem is nobody believes them anymore. As a retired member of An Garda Siochana, it shouldn’t really bother me what the Department of Justice or the senior garda management get up to these days, but it does. Especially when they’re not being straight with us, and they haven’t been for a while.

Back when they closed the rural garda stations, the then Minister for Justice Frances Fitzgerald, said the key objective was to promote the more efficient and effective deployment of resources. She said garda management had concluded that resources could be better deployed and more effectively used on the front line if those stations no longer had to be staffed and maintained.

The garda commissioner at the time, Noirin O’Sullivan, went along with it and we know how that worked out. Gardai are no longer visible in those communities and the sad thing is, it was entirely predictable. Decimating community policing was another move with obvious consequences. When you remove the engagement between the police and the community, something else will fill the void. Enter the far-right brigade.

Community engagement has a proven track record in this jurisdiction. The backbone of a stable policing environment, it was embraced by An Garda Siochana for decades. Identifying problems and working together to find solutions. A simple, uncomplicated system.

But it requires manpower, feet on the beat, and when they are removed, the system fails. Whether the decline in the number of gardai on the street is down to cutbacks, modernisation, reorganisation, or restructuring, the result is the same – the system breaks.

The Government response to the recent problem in Dublin has been to fire money at it. Plenty of overtime for gardai to ensure a visible presence in the capital over the Christmas period. Extra resources drafted into the city with a promise that nothing like the latest unrest will ever happen again. At least, not until the overtime runs out.

With all the attention being focussed on Dublin, I can’t help wondering, how well prepared the rest of the major cities and towns around the country are in the event of a sudden outbreak of disorder? If the far-right hooligans decide to take their rampage on a nationwide tour, who will defend the streets beyond the M50?

The Dublin Metropolitan Region has the largest piece of the pie when it comes to garda resources, but reinforcements from as far away as Sligo and Waterford were still needed to supplement their numbers when the trouble flared. They needed all the help they could get. How would rural gardai cope in a similar situation?

It was reassuring to hear the garda chief superintendent for the Cork City Division, say the city will not be exposed from a security or policing perspective following the reassignment of several gardaí from Cork to the capital in the wake of the Dublin riots.

He gave that assurance at a recent meeting of the Joint Policing Committee after news that some gardaí with public order training had been reassigned to bolster the capital’s policing capabilities. Sounds like robbing Peter to pay Paul to me and that’s why I worry about the future of policing in this country – I don’t see any evidence of a plan.

The current garda commissioner seems to be focussed on enforcement, discipline regulations and oversight which is understandable given that he came from a jurisdiction where a more militarised style of policing was the order of the day. But it’s not working here, so let’s get back to what we do best – engaging with the community.

Like most of us, I consider myself to be an ordinary Joe Soap. I’m quite content with life and I have no ambition to be rich and famous. Being ordinary isn’t for everyone though and some spend a lifetime trying to find fame without success, while others strike it lucky and become famous only to find it’s all too much.

The recently deceased Matthew Perry, star of the ‘Friends’ comedy show, is a good example of the latter. He was one of the most recognisable faces on the planet to people of a certain age. He played the part of Chandler Bing, a wise cracking, low level executive who, with his five other friends, was living the American dream.

The reality for him though was something else. He was found dead in his jacuzzi at the age of fifty-four having spent a large part of his life battling his demons. He was addicted to drugs and alcohol at various stages of his career and had attended rehab on numerous occasions.

He found his fame difficult to handle and he’s not the only one who struggled with being easily recognised. History is littered with bodies of famous stars of the stage and screen who couldn’t deal with the full glare of an adoring public. They appeared to have it all, but in, truth they often found it difficult to cope in the real world.

After a stint in the spotlight, many celebrities realise that the lifestyle isn’t for them and send out cries for help that often result in strange behaviour.

According to celebritytoob.com Charlie Sheen was a cast member on one of the most successful sitcoms of its time. However, in 2011, Sheen suffered a very public emotional breakdown which resulted in him being removed from the cast of Two and a Half Men. Sheen went on to make several bizarre public statements which included him insinuating that he was a warlock.

Lindsay Lohan’s rapid rise to stardom took a toll on her mental health. She battled substance abuse issues, resulting in legal troubles and a decline in her career. Her struggles with addiction and unstable behaviour overshadowed her talent. Pop star Britney Spears faced similar pressure resulting in a highly publicized breakdown in 2007.

Fame is no guarantee of happiness and it’s no guarantee of wealth either. Annie Edson Taylor gained fame for going over the Niagara Falls in a barrel but ended up broke.

According to Historycollection.com, Annie Edson was born on October 24, 1838, in New York. She was one of eight children and at the age of 12, her father, died suddenly. Fortunately for Annie and her family, he left them financially secure, so they continued to live comfortably.

Annie eventually became a teacher. She met David Taylor, got married and had one child, a son, who passed away during infancy. Seven years later tragedy struck again when David passed away and Annie began to struggle financially. She soon found herself moving from place to place to find work as a teacher.

In her early 60s, it was becoming increasingly difficult to find employment. Taylor felt she needed to look at different options. One day, she read about people making money by performing various stunts around the world. That inspired her and at the age of 63, she decided to throw herself off Niagra Falls in a barrel. She believed this would give her fame and fortune to secure her future.

Taylor hired a manager to help her with marketing. The first thing they needed was a custom-built barrel but craftsmen in the business didn’t want to be associated with her because they believed it was a suicide mission.

Eventually, she did find someone, and they set about designing it. The barrel needed to be shaped like a regular pickle barrel but big enough to accommodate Taylor. It was five feet long, and three feet in diameter and lined with a mattress for protection. They also added a leather harness so she could be strapped in during her journey. To keep the barrel upright, they added a 200-pound anvil to the base.

Because the barrel was sealed, two air holes were made in the lid which were closed with corks which Taylor could push out if she needed more air. To test the barrel, she sent a cat down the falls in it. The cat survived with a slight head wound.

On October 24, 1901, thousands of people gathered around the 167-foot waterfall to watch the possible suicidal journey. Her crew fastened her in with the straps, screwed the top shut, and compressed air into the barrel with a bicycle pump. They plugged the air holes with corks, towed it to the middle of the river and cut it loose.

The crowd watched the barrel disappear into the mist. A few minutes later, they saw it float and come to rest on top of a rock. The rescuers set to work getting Taylor out and to everyone’s relief, she was able to walk, talk and her only injury was a small gash on her head, like the cat. She reportedly told people, “I would sooner walk up the mouth of a cannon, knowing it was going to blow me to pieces than make another trip over the falls.”

The stunt was a success and Taylor received the fame she wanted but fortune eluded her. The barrel was to be the main money spinner, but her manager ran off with it. She spent most of her money hiring private investigators to find the barrel, but it was never recovered. Taylor continued to make very little money through her souvenir shops and died penniless in 1921, at the Niagara County Infirmary.

Like I say, there’s a lot to be said for being ordinary.

I came across a story last week in the Irish Examiner Archives. It was published over 60 years ago.

At Clonakilty District Court, a man was charged with being drunk and disorderly on June 21 in 1963. Supt. P. Comer told the Justice that despite the fact that the defendant had been notified to be in court he had not turned up. The man was an itinerant and was at present on the road.

The Justice bound the defendant to the peace for two years, or in default two months imprisonment. The same defendant was also charged with the dangerous driving of a horse and trap while under the influence of drink.

Garda P. O’Leary said that while on duty at the Cross, Clonakilty, on the previous August at about 5 p.m., he saw the defendant driving a pony and cart at a very fast pace up the main street of the town. There was a passenger in the cart who was lying out over the side of it.

He stopped the vehicle, and the horse skidded to a halt. He ordered the defendant off the cart, and when he was getting down, he got entangled in the reins and fell. The passenger was staggering all over the road. He arrested the defendant, who fell several times on his way to the barracks.

Sergt. T. Horan, Clonakilty said he charged the defendant, when he became sober, and he had nothing to say. He was hopelessly drunk when arrested at 5 p.m. and was still drunk at 9 p.m. when he was meant to release him but could not.

In sentencing the defendant to one month’s imprisonment with hard labour, the Justice said, “Under present modern traffic conditions, this kind of conduct cannot be tolerated.”

The passenger in the cart, was fined 7 shillings and 6 pence for being drunk and incapable. When the defending solicitor remarked that his client’s condition was due to lack of food, the Justice remarked: “He must have been as drunk as an owl.”

An amusing tale in hindsight but if you look at many court cases past and present, you’ll notice that alcohol, or the abuse of it, continues to play a considerable role in how we conduct ourselves in this country. We have fiddled around with the legislation over the years to try and get a grip on our relationship with drink, including raising the price of it, but it hasn’t worked.

Those of us of a certain vintage will remember the old chicken suppers dished out to patrons after midnight in night clubs to legalise the consumption of alcohol after hours. If you wanted a drink, you bought your food and ate it whether you were hungry or not.

The law required the meal to be ‘substantial’ and there were many arguments in courts across the land about what constituted a substantial meal. Pubs and clubs varied the menu but rarely did the offerings go beyond the basic minimum standard required to keep the police from the door even though a substantial meal was defined as a meal which would be considered a normal mid-day meal.

I can remember studying that Intoxicating Liquor Act in my early days in the Garda College in Templemore back in the late seventies. It was without doubt the single most complicated piece of legislation we had to digest.

There were certain hours during the day when you could have a drink, but those hours varied depending on the day of the week. They also differed on certain times of the year and there were days when drinking alcohol was completely illegal like Good Friday and Christmas Day but there were exceptions.

There was a bar and a café in Kent Railway Station once upon a time and if you had a ticket to travel by train you could have a pint there on either of those days. Or if you took a ferry to the UK you could have your pint on board or in the airport if you were booked on a flight. There were many happy customers in those days with train tickets in their pocket who had no intention of going any further than the bar counter.

There were special rules for clubs and specific rules for theatres. You could have a drink half an hour before the commencement of a show and up to a half an hour after it finished. You needed a book of rules in your pocket to figure out when to go for a pint.

A liquor licence was required to sell alcohol, but they weren’t straight forward either. An Ordinary Publicans On- Licence allowed for the consumption of alcohol on the premises while an Off – Licence permitted the sale of alcohol for consumption at some other place. There was a Special Exemption Licence which allowed the license holder to continue serving alcohol for a period after normal closing time.

Then there was a restaurant Licence, a restaurant certificate, a limited restaurant certificate, and a wine retailers on-licence all of which had special conditions attached. You could get an occasional licence for special event being held at a place which did not otherwise hold a license for up to maximum of six days. An occasional license allowed the holder of an on license to sell alcohol which his on license allowed at a place to which no license was attached. Confused?

Well, the proposed Sale of Alcohol Bill aims to replace the country’s patchwork of 100 laws governing alcohol sales in pubs, restaurants and off licences, some of which date back more than 200 years, with a single, modern piece of legislation.

That’s long overdue but unless there is a cultural shift in how we treat alcohol, we’ll never be rid of the drunken owls.