Trevor Laffan

Men don’t like to talk about their health. We are experts at ignoring symptoms just in case there’s something wrong. After all, what’s the point in looking for trouble, it’ll find you soon enough.

We can easily explain away a pain or an ache. It was the food we ate yesterday, the change in the weather or the bad nights’ sleep. It’ll be gone in a few days and we’ll be back to normal.

We have an explanation for everything. When we’re bleeding into the toilet, it’s because we brushed our teeth with too much enthusiasm, that’s all. The excruciating pain in the chest is only a slight touch of indigestion. The football size lump on the side of the head is nothing, probably just a large pimple. Ignore it and it will go away.

Strangely enough, that tactic doesn’t always work. There is no logic to that reasoning because if something is wrong then you need to find out and the earlier you find out, the better. The longer you ignore the symptoms, the harder the solution is going to be, so it makes perfect sense to be proactive with your health.

I get my blood checked annually. It only takes a couple of miniutes to have the sample taken and then it’s sent away to be tested and a week later the results are back. That blood sample can tell a lot about the state of your innards.

That’s what I did recently and I thought no more about it. A week later, I got a phone call from the nurse who told me that PSA reading was high which could indicate a problem with my prostate.

I was surprised because I didn’t have any of the recognised symptoms. But, according to the Irish Cancer Society, early prostate cancer doesn’t normally cause any symptoms. Prostate cancer usually only causes symptoms when it has grown large enough to press on the tube that drains urine. It restricts the flow, a bit like putting your foot on the garden hose.

Having prostate urinary symptoms can be a sign of prostate cancer but more often they are caused by a harmless enlargement of the prostate, which is common as you get older. Some of the signs include, a slow flow of urine, trouble starting or stopping the flow, passing urine more often, especially at night, pain when passing urine, blood in the urine or semen or a feeling of not emptying your bladder fully.

ICS advises you to visit your GP if you have any worries or if you have any of these symptoms so that they can be discussed and assessed. Most prostate cancers are found early, many are slow growing, and symptoms may not happen for many years if they happen at all. Remember that men with early prostate cancer are unlikely to have any symptoms.

I didn’t know that. I thought that there should be some signal if there was a problem so, I was surprised with that news. Usually, the nurse would ring to tell me that the results were back and everything’s fine and see you next year. Now it was starting to look as if somebody had changed the rules here but forgot to tell me. She had forgotten her lines and was introducing something new into the conversation.

She was telling me that I needed to have a further examination of my prostate to see what the issue was. She said the first step in the process would be a DRE and she scheduled that for the following week. In hindsight, I probably shouldn’t have asked what this DRE business was all about but too late for that now. The cat was well and truly out of that particular bag.

DRE stands for digital rectal examination. In plain English, that means having a finger inserted in a place that wasn’t intended for fingers. This allows for a physical inspection of the infamous prostate gland. It didn’t sound very inviting.

I spent the rest of that week in a state of panic. Worrying about what they were going to find was one thing but the thought of this DRE sent me into a spin. I couldn’t understand how in 2017, surrounded by modern science and technology, we still have this primitive form of examination. I was convinced that there had to be a more humane method.

The other concern I had was that my GP is also a friend of mine. I have been attending his surgery for over forty years. What he was about to do could have drastic implications for our future relationship. How could we ever look each other in the eye again? The only solution would be for me to move to another town or maybe even leave the country.

In any event, the day arrived and I duly presented myself. He’s a knowledgeable guy so I had hoped that he would have a new and less invasive way of carrying out this test. While I was waiting for him to pull a rabbit out of the hat though, I saw him reach for his surgical gloves. There would be no rabbit making an appearance today.

He did what he needed to do and it was over in a couple of miniutes. It was nothing like I had imagined and it was over so quickly that I was giving out to myself for worrying about it. He didn’t find anything to cause any concern and that brought some relief too.

As a new expert in the field of DRE, I have some advice for anyone worrying about their prostate. Go and have it checked. If you’re putting it off because of a fear of having this procedure carried out, then you’re as foolish as I was.

 

 

 

There was a story circulating last week about a restaurant using a sign referencing domestic violence to promote their lunchtime menu. Ribs and Bibs in Belfast, had a sandwich board outside their restaurant which read “Ya can beat the wife, but ya can’t beat a 5 pound lunch.”

Not in the best of taste but the restaurant removed the sign and apologised after a customer brought it to their attention. They said they didn’t condone abuse on men or women and the member of staff responsible had only been working with them for a couple of weeks.

Ok, so whatever about blaming the new guy, the fact remains that they realised their mistake, took it down straight away and apologised. That didn’t stop the abuse though.

The owner of the restaurant received a lot of nasty comments on social media because of the incident and that seems to be the way of things these days. Keyboard terrorists can spit out vitriol, anonymously, from the comfort of their darkened closet and get their kicks from being abusive and insulting. It’s very easy to do and there is no skill required.

Trolling snipers hide in the long grass and take pot shots at those who make mistakes and then slink back into whatever crevice they inhabit and lay in wait for their next victim.

For those of you who may be unfamiliar with the term ‘troll’ it refers to someone who makes nasty comments on social media. I came across a description of a “troll” that compared it to the mythical creature from Scandinavian folklore. The mythological troll is known to be an ugly, dirty, angry creature that lives in dark places, like caves or underneath bridges, waiting to snatch up anything that passes by for a quick meal.

That is a great way to describe the activities of the internet troll who hides behind his computer screen and actively goes out of his way to cause trouble on the Internet. Like the mythological creature, the Internet troll is angry and disruptive, often for no real reason at all.

Social media can be great fun. I’m no expert on modern technology but I am familiar with Facebook, Twitter and Linkedin. I enjoy clever, informative or humorous posts and it can be enjoyable and entertaining most of the time.
The down side is that any moron with a single active brain cell can access the Internet and poison the ether with nonsense and so we have little choice but to take the rough with the smooth.

I wrote an article online last year and one guy responded with an insulting comment. Another guy told him that his comment didn’t make sense and asked him if he had even read the article. His reply says a lot about the mentality of these electronic assassins. He said that he never reads the articles, he just makes his mind up from reading the headlines.

So, this guy was attacking the article from a position of complete ignorance and even admitted that he had no idea what he was talking about. This is one of the reasons we shouldn’t be taking these people seriously. They’re a joke.

Domestic violence however, is not a joke and I imagine the restaurant is aware of that and didn’t mean to cause offence. There are many women who are subjected to abuse on a regular basis and I dealt with many of them in my previous life.
Calling the police is usually the last resort for the victim and it signifies that the situation has reached crisis point in the relationship. It takes a lot of courage for a woman to take that first step.

It means that she will finally have to tell a story that she has probably been keeping secret for a long time, even from other family members. She has to overcome the fear of potential reprisal from her partner when he finds out what she has done. It is a huge step to take and it is a difficult journey to make but the upside is that life gets does get better.

I knew women who were afraid to leave the house to have a cup of coffee with a friend in case their partner found out. They rarely left the house unaccompanied and when they did they just went to the shop to get a few things and rushed straight back home again for fear of annoying him and triggering an abusive episode. It’s difficult for people in a normal relationship to grasp the kind of life that those in abusive situations have to endure.

It’s not only women that suffer in bad relationships either. A considerable number of victims of domestic violence are men, contradicting the widespread impression that it is only women who are left battered and bruised. Male victims have some strange tales to tell of what they suffer.

One long-distance lorry driver told of how when he arrived home from a trip his wife wouldn’t let him sleep. She wanted him to be so tired going back to work that he would crash his truck.

Nobody should have to suffer the indignity of having their lives controlled by somebody else. Nobody should have to endure a life of violence and misery at the hands of a partner who is a domineering control freak, using secrecy and fear to maintain a stranglehold on the family.

Secrecy is the biggest weapon an abuser or a bully has in his armoury. Once the secret is out, the power of the abuser is diminished. Anybody who finds themselves in this situation should speak to someone and take away the power so they can start to reclaim their lives.

Easier said than done, I know, but there is help out there.

 

Many years ago, there was an ad on the television warning householders to pay their TV licence. It was made in black and white and it showed some footage of a large van driving slowly around an estate with a satellite-dish on the roof, spinning slowly while trying to pick out the house that didn’t have a licence. It would show people hiding behind doors and peeping out through the curtains.

The TV Licence Inspectors had clip boards and trench coats and they moved from door to door with the stealth of CIA operatives searching for Islamic State terrorists. There would be panic in the street until these guys moved out and then everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Nosey neighbours squinting through the letter boxes were disappointed when there wasn’t a capture.

Those days have gone but a new terror has emerged and it is something that strikes fear into the fearless. It comes through the letter box with the impact of a scud missile and leaves householders trembling. Some have been known to lose control of their bodily functions at the sight of it lying there on the mat in the hallway. At first glance, it looks pretty and harmless but there is nothing innocent about it.

It is of course, the dreaded wedding invitation. It brings with it a whole heap of trouble and it signals the beginning of a process that is going to tear a large hole in your pocket. It is an order to prepare for stag nights, hen nights, new outfits, presents and overnight stays. For the “happy couple” it marks the start of a huge amount of organising, planning, stress and expense and all for the sake of a day out.

As a guest or family member attending a wedding, you can expect to pay over €800 when all the associated expenses are taken into consideration. The biggest single cost associated with attending a wedding is the amount of money spent on the gift and the accommodation. There is a new trend whereby the wedding is extended into the next day so that means an extra night in the hotel.

There is also the hen night and the stag night and it’s normal now for many of these to take place abroad so that will be an additional cost. Why it is necessary to travel to somewhere like Prague or Amsterdam just to have a few pints is lost on me.

Some unfortunate souls will have to attend more than one in a year and on those occasions, it might be worth putting your death notice in the paper and laying low for a while.

weddingsonline, a popular wedding website, announced the findings of their annual wedding survey. They have revealed that while the average total budget for a wedding including the honeymoon is €22,531, a considerable number of couples go over budget, 38% in fact. So, this means that there are some of them who are hitting close to €30,000 to have their day in a white dress with a fancy cake.

When you consider what a young couple could do for themselves with €30,000, you have to question the sanity of splashing out this amount cash on a glorified fancy dress party. Wanting to say ’I do’ in front of a large gathering of family and friends is all very well but it doesn’t come cheap. It is an expensive tradition that brings good fortune for some but not necessarily the wedding party.

Taking each other for richer or for poorer sounds great but the reality is that ‘poorer’ is probably the most likely outcome. Up to €30,000 poorer.

This survey, based on over 2,000 participants in 2016, captures the current trends towards weddings in Ireland. The survey shows that 28% of couples take out a loan to help cover the cost and 22% share the costs with their parents. When asked what their preference would be when it comes to wedding gifts, 77% said they would prefer cash.

It seems to me to be a little worrying that 28% take out a loan to help cover the cost of their wedding. That is a significant number and for a young couple starting out in life it represents a sizeable debt before they even take a single step on an already expensive journey through life.

It’s also worth remembering that no matter how much money is spent on the wedding, there is still no guarantee that everything will run smoothly. The best laid plans of mice and men and all that. Take this tale about a wedding that took place in the States.

The bride’s family was rich and money was no object and the wedding was going to cost a fortune with no expense spared. The happy couple arranged to meet the wedding planner for the first time in a bar early in the morning. By the time she got there it was obvious that they were already after having a few. They didn’t seem to be too pushed about the details and that made her a little suspicious.

On the day of the wedding, the bride and groom and all their guests started drinking early and everyone got loaded. The wedding planner got a bad feeling. When the time came to cut the cake, she couldn’t find the bride. They looked everywhere but she was nowhere to be found so the groom decided to cut the cake by himself. He was completely wasted.

As the night wore on, the bride was still missing but nobody seemed to be bothered. A few days later the wedding planner discovered that the bride and the groomsman left the wedding early and had run off together.

Proof that no amount of money can guarantee a happy ending.

 

 

 

 

I’m all for people having something to do in their spare time. Something to distract them from the day to day struggles of life and work and something that brings a bit of fun to a busy schedule.

I don’t want to cast aspersions on what anyone does on their time off or what they chose to do to unwind. Each to his own I say. It’s a free country and we live in a democracy so live and let live. But how is it possible for someone to have a hobby that involves staring at trains or aeroplanes? What is all that about?

I was on holidays and I was having breakfast next to a beach on a lovely sunny morning. I spotted a guy sitting at a table nearby. He had what looked like a notebook in front of him and he was using a pair of binoculars. At first, I thought that the guy was a bit of a pervert looking at the girls out swimming. Then I realised that he was in fact watching the planes coming and going from Larnaca Airport in Cyprus.

Now, like I said, live and let live and all that but what can possibly be relaxing about that? It’s fairly predictable that a plane coming in to land will descend with a gradual decline. Similarly, the reverse is true when the plane is taking off.

There is a gradual incline until the aircraft reaches a certain altitude and then it levels out. So why does someone choose to sit on a chair in the sun for prolonged periods watching something that never really changes?

If it was possible to observe the planes as they flew over the Bermuda Triangle then that might make sense. There could be a chance that they might see one disappear and then they would have something to put in their little notebook. That would be exciting and it would be a nice story for the guys in the pub later in the evening.

But whatever about planes, train spotting just has me completely baffled. There is a small train that travels the Cork to Cobh line every hour. It goes up to Cork on the hour and back down to Cobh on the half hour. Or vice versa, I can never remember which it is. But either way, there is nothing momentous about these journeys.

They go up on one set of tracks and they come back down on the other. Every now and then the driver toots his horn and that’s about the height of the excitement. It’s a great service and many people rely on it but could someone please explain to me why anyone would want to bother watching it passing in and out all day? They’re probably not going to see too much.

Having said that, there was the time in May 1995 when an empty passenger train coming from Cork failed to stop at the platform in Cobh Station and crashed through the buffer stop and went through the wall into the Heritage Centre and ended up partly inside the exhibition hall.

Now, that was something that would have been worth seeing. But this happened in 1995 and not much else has happened in the last twenty odd years. So, it’s probably fair to assume that on most days, not a lot happens that would be considered remotely exciting.

The topic of hobbies can crop up anywhere. Some prospective employers like to ask about hobbies at interviews because they reckon that they can get a feel for the kind of person they are dealing with by having a look at what that they do in their spare time. So, it seems that your choice of hobby could potentially influence a prospective employer and could play a part in deciding whether you get a job or not.

That can be dangerous if the person doing the interviewing doesn’t understand the hobby. One guy put down on his CV that he collected cigar wrappers. The employer was at first inclined to throw it in the shredder but decided to have a look at the guy to see what he was like.

There is a small paper band that goes around the cigar and when you peel it away, the wrapper comes off. Strangely enough, there are people who collect that little strip of paper and make a hobby out of it. Before you write them off as a complete nut job, just consider what is so interesting about this particular past-time and why the cigar band became so important.

Apparently, it started in Cuba. In the early days, there was very little packaging with cigars and they were usually just put in a wooden barrel or box, with the manufacturer’s name inscribed on the box. The cigars themselves were unwrapped and unmarked and this was a flaw in the system. Cheaper European cigars were sometimes put into these boxes and sold as fine imported Cuban cigars.

A cigar manufacturer in Cuba decided to place a paper band around his cigars with his signature on it and soon many other makers adopted this practice. This reduced counterfeiting and the practice spread from Cuba to cigar makers everywhere and led to elaborate, distinctive cigar band artwork being produced by highly-regarded commercial artists which makes them very collectable.

So, if you are an employer and you see a strange looking hobby on a candidates’ CV, have a chat with him about it. He might not be as daft as you think he is. As for the rest of us, maybe we shouldn’t be too quick to knock a hobby that someone else has just because we can’t understand it.

Except for the guys watching the planes and trains, they’re beyond understanding.

 

 

Last year I started a blog, trevorlaffan.com and I had no idea what I was doing. Today, I reached an amazing 20,000 visits to the site. Just in case you didn’t get that, I said 20,000 visits!!!

OK, I know it’s not up there with the big boys and girls but it’s not a bad start either.

I wanted the blog to be about my take on life in general, as I see it, and also about some of the issues that affect us all. I was also anxious that it would be easy to read and would hopefully be entertaining.

It has been great fun so far and your comments, whether complimentary or not, have always been appreciated. Thanks to all of you for taking the time to pop in for a read and with a bit of luck I’ll keep it going for another while.

Thanks again.

I think we have good reason to be a little concerned in this country when it comes to potential terrorist threats from Isis. I’m no longer a member of An Garda Siochana so I’m not privy to the inside story, but I would be fairly confident that the organisation is facing a bit of a crisis.

The Tánaiste, Frances Fitzgerald, thinks otherwise and she has insisted that the risk of a terror attack in Ireland remains low. She was speaking in the wake of the recent incident in Barcelona, Spain.

She explained: “Ireland generally is not at high risk. It’s possible but not likely. You can never tell where a terrorist will strike – that’s the reality. But there’s no intelligence to suggest that we are at risk.” She added that she’s been ‘impressed’ with the intelligence the gardaí have access to.

She said gardaí have the necessary intelligence, intervention capability and resources to deal with the threat of international terrorism. She said they were also supported by the Defence Forces and that all necessary resources and supports are being given.

Our Government leaders and senior police managers have been singing from the same hymn sheet and they have been consistent in this regard. They agree that a terrorist attack is possible in Ireland, but highly unlikely. What worries me, is how Frances and Co are reaching this conclusion.

Noirin O’Sullivan, recently retired garda commissioner, has said that 300 garda ethnic liaison officers have built up “very close relationships” with minority communities. She said that the gardaí had very good relations with minority communities and they have a number of officers who could speak a variety of languages.

To be relying on community gardai and garda ethnic liaison officers for gathering intelligence, makes little sense. Garda community policing members and ethnic liaison officers were usually one and the same thing and those people have been decimated in recent years, to the point of extinction in most areas of the country.

The role of the community garda and the garda ethnic liaison officer is to talk to people. To engage with representatives of the various communities in their area and to establish communication with each of them. They are a vital cog in the intelligence wheel.

They monitor racist incidents, liaise with victims, deal with local organisations providing support and develop relationships. They facilitate and encourage integration, assist in the investigation of racist incidents and ensure that appropriate support is available to members of ethnic minorities and monitor the delivery of appropriate policing services to ethnic minority communities.

This is fundamental work if you want to build trust and confidence in the community and vital if you want to generate relationships and develop two-way communication. So, how do you find out who your local ELO is?

According to the www.garda.ie, the list of Ethnic Liaison officers is available on the Garda website. I was curious and tried to find it but I couldn’t. When I Googled Garda Ethnic Liaison Officers, I did find a list and my name was on it along with two other retired colleagues. I suspect that many others on that list have moved on as well.

But that’s not my only concern. There are a couple of other things that have me worried.

Joshua Molloy, originally from Ballylinan in Co. Laois, served in the British Army for four years before joining Kurdish resistance fighters to fight against Isis. He has some experience when it comes to dealing with Isis and he made a very valid point in an article he wrote recently. He suggested that the time has come to put bollards in place on the pedestrianised streets in Dublin.

His argument is that there are many of these radical terrorists trading information on the Internet, encouraging each other to take action against the infidels. While those pulling the strings of Isil may not deem Ireland to be a legitimate target worthy of an attack, all it would take is for one lone wolf to take it upon himself to carry out an atrocity. For that reason alone, he suggests we should be better prepared.

The President of the Association of Garda Sergeants and Inspectors said the force is not adequately trained or resourced to deal with a terrorist attack. Antoinette Cunningham said that community policing has been decimated. She said that most intelligence gathering starts in local communities and when you don’t have community guards placed in local areas, then people cannot gather the intelligence that is needed to fight terrorism.

Dr Umar al Qadri, Imam and Chair of Irish Muslim Peace and Integration Council, is aware that a number of people in Ireland are spreading their “hate narrative” through social media and offline. He issued a warning two years ago that there were extremists in Ireland. He said that certain members of the Muslim leadership are allowing extremist views to be spread because they’re not “calling out” those who share views that are “un-Islamic”.

According to Tom Clonan, Security Analyst, there are five terror threat levels as they apply to Ireland, ranging from ‘Low’ to ‘Critical’. Currently, Ireland’s terror threat status lies at the second level, ‘Moderate’, meaning that an attack is possible but unlikely.

He can’t understand why despite recent terror attacks involving so called ‘lone wolf’ attackers employing ‘low-cost’ opportunistic means, the Minister for Justice and An Garda Siochana have not raised the threat level here.

A year ago, he would have considered that an Islamist attack in Ireland was – in theory – possible, but highly unlikely. He now says that an attack here is a distinct possibility and we should raise our threat level to that of ‘Substantial’ where an attack or incident is a ‘strong possibility’.

Maybe somebody should have a word with Frances Fitzgerald.

 

 

To the best of my knowledge, I have always been lefthanded. I didn’t do any training for it, it wasn’t a conscious decision I made, I just happen to have been born that way. Having said that, sometimes I’m righthanded.

I just assumed I was a little bit unusual, but now I have discovered that maybe that’s not the case.

You see, I write with my left hand, I play tennis with my right and I play golf with lefthanded clubs. I kick a ball with both feet, I use a knife with my left hand and a hammer with my right. There are some who have said that I look awkward swinging a lefthanded golf club but I suspect that they are only jealous of my unique style.

I use a toothbrush with my left hand, I paint with both hands but I use my right to operate a scissors. That’s because they are designed for right handed people. I hold a door key with my left hand and as most front doors have the lock on the right, I sometimes have to stand in the hedge to put the key in the lock.

Recently, I discovered that there are varying degrees of how dominant the left hand is over the right and there is a test that you can do to establish how lefthanded you are. I didn’t know that, so I did the online version of the test.
The results told me that while I am 49% left-handed, I am mostly ambidextrous. That explained a lot to me but I’m just not sure how it took me fifty-nine years to find that out.

It was never a big deal in my life and I don’t remember it ever being a problem, just a little inconvenient at times. We left-handers write across ourselves where conventional writers write away from their bodies. Most desks, particularly those with fold down flaps are designed for righthanders and this can be difficult for us in tight spaces.

If you happen to be a ciotog and you find yourself sitting in close proximity to a right-handed writer, then there will be a bit of fencing going on with the elbows. To compensate for that, we turn the paper at an angle and this can be awkward. Some lefties face their fingers towards themselves and write from a kind of inverted position and they look as if they have a claw. But you do what whatever suits to get the job done.

I have always written with my left hand. I have heard many fellow lefties through the years describe how teachers tried to force them to be ‘normal’. Trying to get them to switch to the more conventional right hand. There could have been a simple reason for this. It might have just been easier for teachers, to teach children to write if everyone in the class was doing it the same way.

There are many stories of nuns and brothers trying to ‘beat it out of youngsters’ but I wasn’t one of those. I must have been at the tail end of that drama because I don’t have any memory of being forced or even encouraged, to change hands. I do remember having a lay teacher for most of my time in a Christian Brothers run primary school and maybe that made a difference.

John Walsh was his name and he was an exceptional man. I never remember him losing his temper or even raising his voice. He was quietly spoken and he had a great way with kids. Later in life I got to know him a little and he was an absolute gentleman.

Other children weren’t so lucky and they suffered for their inability to use their right hand. Some were even subjected to violence to change their evil ways. There must have been kids who thought that they were performing some form of witchcraft or communicating with the Devil by using the left hand.

I sometimes wonder if children who were penalised for being lefthanded could have suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder in later life. It may even have hampered their development and affected their self- esteem.

They say that around 10% of the world population could be lefthanded. With my newfound knowledge, I now suspect that a large percentage of those are more likely to be ambidextrous like me. Mainly because we have had to adapt to a righthanded world.

I don’t want to make it sound like a huge issue because it isn’t. We’re not dealing with life or death stuff here, it’s just a little awkward at times.

If you want to experience some of the difficulties that lefthanders face, try using a can opener with your weaker hand. Try cutting a piece of paper with a scissors, changing the time on your watch or simply turning the pages of a book with your left paw. These things are all designed for right handed people.

Some statistics claim we lefties have a shorter life span than right handed people. Considering the obstacles that you guys put in our way, it may not be too surprising to hear that we have more accidents than right-handed people. That may not be strictly scientific but it’s good enough for me and we’re entitled to be a little paranoid.

We have been second-class citizens for a long time but now we are starting to fight back. We have our own celebration, International Left-Handers Day, that we can enjoy with like- handed people.

Albert Einstein and Leonardo da Vinci were lefties and so were Barak Obama, Bill Clinton, George Bush and Winston Churchill. So, I’m following a proud tradition of successful ciotogs.

Jack The Ripper was also left handed but we’ll say no more about that.

 

I was contacted by a friend of mine a few weeks ago and he recalled a story I told him while we were serving in Cyprus together. He suggested that I should tell it to a wider audience but I had to think about it for a while because it’s a little bit personal.

It has to do with the discovery of the body of an 11-year-old boy, called Robert Holohan, who was found in thick undergrowth near Inch Strand in Midleton, Co. Cork in January 2005. He had been missing since 4th January.

A search had been ongoing for Robert from the time of his disappearance until his body was located over a week later. An attempt had been made to conceal his body but he was discovered by members of a search party.

It was late in the afternoon that day, and I was sitting at home when I received a phone call from my boss, with instructions to gather a team together and head to Whitegate to preserve the scene for the night.

Roberts body had to remain where he was found until he could be examined by the State Pathologist. This procedure is essential for the collection of evidence and it was better to carry out the examination at first light instead of trying to do it in the dark with artificial light.

Over twenty of us arrived at the scene at 8pm. We had to establish an outer cordon to prevent any unauthorised access to the area and to protect the scene. Then, someone had to stay with the body for the same reasons. Myself and another guy took that job.

It was a bitterly cold night and frost settled on our jackets as the night wore on and we stayed there until we were relieved at 8am the following morning. I went home to bed but the cold was in my bones and it kept me awake.

I got up at some point to have a hot shower, made a hot whiskey and turned on the radio. There were many calls to a local radio station about the discovery of Robert’s body. Most of them were complaining about the body being left out in the elements all night. I knew that would be bothering the family.

Later in the day, I saw a news item on TV showing a priest leaving the Holohan family home. I rang Midleton Garda Station and got a phone number for the priest, Father O’Donovan, and I gave him a call.

I told Fr. O’Donovan about my duty the previous evening. I told him that I was with the boy all night and that he was treated with as much care and respect as I would have treated my own child. I told him that Robert wasn’t alone at any stage and while I would have liked to have wrapped him in a blanket and brought him home to his parents, that just wasn’t possible.

I suggested to him that if he thought that information might bring some comfort to the family that he should feel free to pass it on. We chatted for a little while and then hung up. As far as I was concerned, that was as much as I could do and if the parents got some consolation from it, that would be great. Nobody else knew that call was made and that’s how I wanted it.

I thought no more about the phone call until my wife rang me at work a few days later and asked me if I was watching Sky News. I turned on the TV and they were covering Roberts funeral. There was a conversation taking place about a phone call made by a policeman to a priest. It took me a while to figure out what was going on.

Fr. O’Donovan told the story during the service and the media had latched onto it. Initially, I was a little annoyed but then I realised that as my name wasn’t mentioned, it didn’t really matter.

Not long after that, I got a call from Fr. O’Donovan who wanted to apologise. He was feeling guilty that the details of a private phone call had been released so publicly and he wanted to explain.

Earlier that morning he got a phone call from President Mary McAleese who asked him to read out a statement on her behalf at the service. He told her about the call I had made to him and later, when he read the letter from Mrs. McAleese, our conversation came into his head and he blurted it out.

This was now becoming part of the story and that was never the intention. It was simply a call made from a parent, who happened to be a policeman, to be passed on to other parents in the hope that they might get some comfort from it.

The phone call received international attention from the media but it shouldn’t have. This is the kind of thing that is done routinely by the men and women of An Garda Siochana. It’s done quietly and usually goes unnoticed.

Gardai regularly deal with difficult situations that you can’t be trained for. You can be taught how to investigate a crime, preserve a scene and gather evidence but nobody can tell you how to react when you are alone with a body. Just the two of you and the silence.

Sergeant Liam Grimes is attached to the Garda Water Unit and he suggested that I should write this piece. He knows what it’s like. He has maintained many lonely vigils, on riverbanks and lakesides, with recovered human remains.

This is a not an unusual position for police officers to find themselves in, but you don’t often hear about it.

 

 

 

 

We’re living in dangerous times and sharing our planet with many disturbed people. There seems to be no shortage of misguided characters who, for reasons best known to themselves, are quite happy to kill and to be killed.

Some of them justify their actions through a far-fetched interpretation of a religious doctrine while others are just homicidal maniacs who latch on to a cause to justify their lust for blood.

Recently, we have experienced some despicable acts of terror resulting in the deaths of many innocent civilians. There was a time when wars were fought on a battlefield but the modern tactic seems to be to take the fight to the streets and to target families and innocent children.

The latest incident was a terrorist attack in Barcelona in Spain. It happened when a van was deliberately driven into a crowded pedestrian area that was full of tourists at the time. Fourteen people died so far and something like one hundred were injured.

A short time after that, five suspected terrorists were shot dead by police in the Spanish town of Cambrils, near Barcelona. They had also driven into pedestrians as part of what appeared to be the country’s second terrorist attack in the space of 24 hours. Six bystanders and one police officer were injured in the attack in Cambrils.

Isis has claimed responsibility for the attacks.

In another incident, a man was found dead after a shootout at a police roadblock in a town close to Barcelona. The owner of the car was in the passenger seat and he had been stabbed to death. It seems that this car had been hijacked and the driver fled the scene.

Some time ago there was a similar incident on London Bridge where seven people were killed and forty-eight were injured. A van rammed into pedestrians on the bridge before it crashed into a wall. Then three men jumped out of the van and stabbed people at random before they were shot dead by the police. Witnesses heard the men shouting, ‘This is for Allah.’

That attack took place just a couple of weeks after a suicide bomber killed twenty- two and injured one hundred and sixteen at the Manchester Arena. This was an assault at a concert that was being attended mainly by young people. One of those who lost their lives was an eight-year old girl.

There have been other such events in the last couple of years too. In Tunisia, an attacker posed as a swimmer but he was carrying a rifle. He shot people on the beach and then went into a nearby hotel where he continued to shoot as he walked around, shooting people at random, killing thirty-nine and injuring a whole lot more before he was shot dead by the police.

It’s not that long ago since we had the terror attacks in Paris. The first explosions occurred outside the Stade de France stadium where a man wearing a suicide belt was prevented from entering the stadium after a routine security check so he blew himself up on the spot. The bomber and a passer-by were killed.

A third suicide bomber blew himself up at a fast-food outlet near the stadium. More attacks took place near the centre of town and one gunman turned his gun on a restaurant. Fifteen people died in that attack, with 15 severely injured. More than 100 bullets were fired.

The worst attack of the night happened at another concert venue. The 1,500-seat Bataclan hall was sold out when three attackers wearing suicide belts stormed the concert hall. Eighty-nine people died as the men fired assault rifles into the crowd. At least 99 others were taken to hospital in a critical condition.

Last year, we witnessed the brutal beheading of a twelve- year old child by a rebel group in Aleppo City, Syria. The horrific murder, captured in footage circulated on social media, was allegedly carried out by Islamist rebels who accused the boy of fighting alongside government forces. It seems that the boy was decapitated by members of a group on the back of a pick-up truck on a public road.

Another horror involved the killing of an eighty-six-year-old priest in France while he was saying mass in a small little church. Two attackers slit his throat and then filmed themselves making a speech in Arabic in front of the altar.
Apparently, there is nothing in Islam that allows for the slaughter of prisoners. In fact, Islam requires captives to be well-treated, fed and cared for. All the experts seem to agree that Islam is a religion that promotes love and peace but extremists are distorting it to create disciples of death.

Shooting and stabbing innocent civilians while they are out socialising at a restaurant or a concert is simply madness. Driving a truck into a crowd of unsuspecting men, women and children is an act of insanity. Beheading a twelve-year old boy for being on the wrong side in a conflict is indescribable and I fail to see how cutting the throat of an eighty-six-year-old priest is going to advance any cause.

I saw the footage of the boy in the back of a pick-up truck being taunted by his captors. They appeared to be toying with him and describing the treatment that was about to be meted out to him. It’s impossible to imagine what the last few hours were like for that unfortunate child but he must have been terrified. It doesn’t bear thinking about.

These atrocities cannot be justified under any circumstances. These mad men can’t put forward any argument that will excuse or even explain their actions. They are nothing short of barbarians with no hope of being rewarded in this life or any other.

 

There is no doubt that there are people in the world who are lonely, for a variety of reasons. They may have lost a loved one or might not have any friends or relatives living nearby. They may be living in rural and remote areas where callers are rare. For those people, life presents certain challenges.

Living in isolation can be difficult and the days must be very long if you are a person that craves company. Some studies have suggested that apart from being just inconvenient, loneliness can also be unhealthy and has been linked to heart disease, insomnia and depression. It can also lead to an early death.

Solving the loneliness problem is not a simple matter. Telling lonely people that they ought to get out more often and meet people is a little bit like telling someone who is afraid of bats that they should try living in a cave.

It’s not that straight forward. It seems to imply that it’s their fault that they’re lonely but for those who never recover from a bereavement, that kind of loneliness never leaves.

Having said that, solitude is a welcome way of life for certain people and they are perfectly happy with their own company. There are times when I am like that and sometimes all I need is a good book or my laptop and I’m happy. I love the peace and quiet.

I was having a pint in my local pub one day when I started chatting with the guy sitting next to me. I had never seen him before. He told me that he was living in Cork City and that his wife had died and he was now living alone. He took the train from Cork as far as Carrigaloe and then walked the rest of the way into Cobh which took him about an hour.

He spent the next few hours walking around the town before going for his lunch. Later he went for a pint and his plan was to get the train back to the city when he finished his drink and then he would get the bus back home.

This was his daily routine. He had free travel, so he would head off on the bus in the morning and make his way into town. Then he would look at the bus timetable or he would go to the railway station and check the time table there. At that stage, he would decide where he was going to go for the day and he could end up anywhere, depending on his humour.

I think this character has a fantastic attitude to life and he loves to get out every day and meet new people. On the other hand, solitude suits others and when they go for a pint, they prefer to sit in the corner and mind their own business and that’s fine too. To each his own.

One guy who can deal with solitude is Enda O’Coineen. He’s an Irish sailor who found himself stranded on the other side of the world after being forced out of a solo round-the-world race. He had spent 62 days on his own at sea, in the middle of nowhere, when he suffered an accident and had to bow out of the race. He was rescued by a fishing trawler and was towed into port.

This 60-year-old entrepreneur from Galway had been drifting for several days after a squall in the Southern Ocean broke the mast on his 60ft racing yacht. He was on track to be the first Irish sailor to go single-handed around the world.
Despite his ordeal, Enda wants to go back to where he was picked up so he can finish his travels. It takes some willpower and determination to endure something like that and you need to be sure you can survive without company.

There is another type of loneliness too. The kind that hits you when a loved one emigrates and loses contact with home. I was told a story recently and I’m not sure how true it is but I’ll tell it again anyway.

There was a guy in a small village, I won’t say where, who was having a going away party before he headed off to Australia. A little old lady from the village approached him and asked him to tell her son Paddy that she loved him. He didn’t want to disappoint her by telling her that the chances of him finding Paddy in a country of that size were probably zero, so he just agreed to pass on the message.

He was in Oz for a few years and one day he was working on a pipeline when he got chatting to the foreman. The foreman told him that there was another Irish guy working at the next station and he would arrange a meeting on the next visit. When he came back the next time he met the other Irish guy who turned out to be the missing Paddy from his home village. He passed on the message from his mother and asked Paddy why he hadn’t kept in contact.

Paddy said that he could never return because of the terrible thing that he had done to his parents. He told the story of how he was out one night in the village and he borrowed his father’s car. He was acting the goat and he wrote off the car in an accident. After that, he was so ashamed of himself that he couldn’t face his parents so he decided, there and then, to leave home.

He subsequently ended up in Australia and sent a message home that he was alright and then he cut himself off from his family. All because of a broken car.