It Occurs To Me: The office of posh works

Last year, Minister of State Kieran O’Donnell said on a visit to Cork: “This new Garda station in Macroom is an example of Government's commitment to delivering fit for purpose work environments that have the space to grow and increase capacity to meet the demands in front of us. The project will be delivered by the Office of Public Works team, who work tirelessly to deliver important infrastructure projects like this, on behalf of the people of Ireland.” 

Kieran managed to say this with a straight face but the OPW in many citizens’ minds at the time meant a €336,000 bike shelter at Leinster House and a security hut at Government Buildings, costing more than €1.4 million. 

Last week, Peadar Toibín of Aontú renamed it the Office of Posh Works, after what he referred to as the “..eye-watering cost for the OPW wall” which he said was shocking. “We are talking about €490,000 for a wall that is shorter than the width of a Gaelic football pitch. This works out at €7,000 a metre. Never before has erecting a few hundred bricks cost so much in Ireland.”

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He added that “this wall of shame has many of the same ingredients as existed in the Gucci bike shed. It seems incredibly poor that the project started using salvaged bricks and then realised that they did not have enough bricks to finish the job.

This created an extended period of review to select a replacement brick – again adding to the cost. The OPW needs to realise it’s not a luxury brand working for a coddled political class. Its objective must be to provide value for Irish citizens. My worry is that this will not happen until accountability is enforced on the organisation. There is no sign of that under this Government.” 

As Charles Ward TD put it:  “Donegal homes are left to crumble as OPW splurges €490,000 on a project in Dublin.”

                                       Not fit for pigs!

The Office of Public Works (OPW) has responsibility for the provision and maintenance of Garda accommodation. An elderly retired Garda of my acquaintance referred to it once as The Office that Sometimes Works. He wasn’t impressed.

In his excellent history of An Garda Síochána, Gregory Allen reminds us of Deputy Commissioner Coogan’s visit to the west of Ireland in  1923.

He reported that some stations in Clare and Galway were “utterly unsuitable”, some “frightfully bad hovels”. “The men were overcrowded in cold and damp makeshift accommodation, with no water supply: in some stations water had to be carted from distant wells. Sanitary facilities were primitive or none existent.

In the County Clare village of Maurices Mills the guards were suffering from the cold and damp: in such a ...hopeless shambles it was impossible to have either discipline or order.” To have water in Corofin Barracks meant carrying it for two miles.

Roll on some 70/80 years and not much had changed in some corners. A member who had worked in Muff once said of the station; “It’s not fit for pigs…excuse the pun!”  

I was reminded of the Derry Journal story of two decades ago when painter and decorator Colm Doherty was so incensed by the ‘cut’ of the local barracks, he propped a ladder up against it one morning – and to the raucous cheers of local people cheering him on (the Guards let him at it!) whitewashed it from top to bottom. It was the last lick of paint it ever got…because soon afterwards, it was closed, was put up for public auction and a new station was built.

                              An official dump in Carrigart!

The attached photo shows what was a triangle of green grass beside Carrigart Garda Station. If you’re unfamiliar with it, it’s just past what was Logue’s Pub and on the corner of the Downings Road. 

As youngsters, we played cowboys there, kicked football and watched for activity in Logue’s orchard, where cooking apples didn’t deter us from putting a few in our pocket, before swinging from a branch to make our exit. In a town that prides itself on its success in the Tidy Towns, it is an abomination and an eyesore.

Imagine some faceless bureaucrat deciding: “Ah sure, it’ll do rightly for any ould equipment that’s obsolete or rusting…after all, it’s only beside the Garda Station.” Every time I pass it, I shudder. 

‘An abomination and an eyesore’ in Carrigart

                                     Beehive buzzing again!

With all the despair about what Trump is doing to the US and beyond - and how it has been affecting people’s attitudes to America - there were moments at the weekend in Ardara, when I had much of my faith in some aspects of Uncle Sam restored. 

Just to remind readers, it was the Annual Bluegrass Festival superbly organised by Pat McGill. Quite simply, it was one of the best since it began in 2008. T

he headline act was Special Consensus, and their performance blew us all away. It was lovely to hear The Gulf of Mexico referred to in one of their songs (and not Trump’s attempts at bastardisation). They paid homage to many great Canadian songwriters by ‘grassing up’ classics by Gordon Lightfoot, and I was struck by their huge affection and respect for their neighbours…unlike their president. 

Founder of the band Greg Cahill was knocked out by the audience reaction…in an emotional response, he said he’d love to live over here…”especially now!”. We all got it and gave him an extra ovation. “Making America Decent Again”...thank you guys!

Not afraid to laugh at themselves, in particular some redneck cliches, special guest Tim O’Brien told of the failed efforts of Hollywood to make CSI in West Virginia. Why? Well, there are no dental records and everybody has the same DNA! 

Clem O’Brien, no relation of Tim, hails from Ballylinan in Laois, has one of the most incredible Bluegrass voices in Ireland, and combined with his incredible guitar picking, made him the other stand-out star at the weekend. Well done to all concerned!

                                             Richard’s vision

Richard Moore from Derry is a remarkable man. He lost his sight at the age of 10 when he was hit by a rubber bullet in Derry in 1972. In 2007 he met the soldier who shot him. He has since maintained a friendship with Charles Inness whom he has come to forgive.

As he says: “I may have lost my sight but did not lose my vision.” Richard is a successful businessman and owns the radio station, Drive 105 FM. 

I know him for many reasons - radio interviews etc - but primarily because he taught my son Kelan to play guitar and the results have exceeded the lad’s expectations.

No better man than Richard to tell a story about his blindness which not only sums up his lack of self-pity but also that wicked self-deprecating humour which has contributed to his being one of Derry’s much loved personalities. 

A wee nun came to him for guitar lessons many years ago but long before the lesson began in his living room, Richard was concerned at the lack of progress of the visitor as she walked with guitar down his hallway, accompanied by an occasional thump from the instrument and an apologetic ‘ouch’.

Things were no better during the lesson and the hapless ‘Slowhand’ seemed incapable of even learning the most basic of chords.

It was only when his beloved Rita landed home that he discovered his error, when she called: “Richard, why have you all the lights off?” The wee nun was too civil to tell him.