In silent grief from hill to hill - Bloody Sunday 50 years remembered

 

January 30, 1972.

 I went with Anger at my heel
Through Bogside of the bitter zeal
– Jesus pity! – on a day
Of cold and drizzle and decay.

    -Butcher's Dozen, Thomas Kinsella

 

It was a long time ago.

I ten years old and I was in the fifth grade. I still wore dresses to school everyday because we weren't allowed to wear anything else. I don't think I even owned a pair of pants, not even jeans. I wore knee socks with those skirts and dresses. That was the year that I wrote my "first" novel on lined notebook paper tucked away in my binder in Mrs. Berryman's classroom upstairs at Webster Elementary School.  I've changed since then but I still write and my hair remains long.

I don't recall that exact Sunday because in my little corner of the world there was no reason for it for stand out. 

But the events of that terrible and fateful day fifty years ago still resonate. No closure has been made. No charges against the British soldiers have been made. But what happened in Derry, in the Bogside, has never been forgotten or the 14 lives lost, 13 that day, 1 later. A total o f 26 unarmed people were shot that day during what began as a peaceful protest march  10,000 strong against internment without trial.  It ended in bloodshed and tragedy. In April, the British government issued a report that exonerated their troops from any wrongdoing or illegal action.  

It drew the world's attention to what was called "The Troubles" in Northern Ireland.

I won't pretend I remember when it happened but within a few years, I had embraced the Irish portion of my heritage. I already knew many of the songs and poems and learned more.

By the 1980's, I was caught up in my sentiments for Ireland. It's a long story and I've shared much of it before including the 1981 Hunger Strikes in Long Kesh prison (or The Maze if you want to use the British name for the place).

I wore a black armband for each of the hunger strikers who died but you may recall that one somehow drew my full attention in a way I can't explain but remains. Patrick "Patsy" O'Hara died on May 21, 1981.

I became known as I graduated from Crowder College that spring for my pro-Irish views and as I moved on to Missouri Southern State University that fall, the same. I was taken to be an Irish exchange student more than once but of course that was not the case.

As a History and English major, when an assignment came for me to focus on a poet or a poem, there was no need to choose. I knew I would do my thesis on a poem by Thomas Kinsella called "Butcher's Dozen: A Lesson In The Octave of Widgery."

In those pre-internet days, getting a copy of the poem wasn't easy but I did, through Interlibrary Loan and soon someone's personal prized copy was in my hands. The original was more of a pamphlet than a book.

I presented my paper to the class along with a full reading of the poem. I don't think the professor or most of my fellow students appreciated it fully but I gave it my all.

Should you wonder why I have such strong views about the Six Counties and all the struggles, it's this - my Irish ancestors all came from that part of Ireland, that part that was divided from Ireland after the original Troubles. My granny's grandfather came from near Keady in County Armagh, from a place called Derrynoose. And I learned that on the maternal side, one of my ancestors who sailed from Belfast had risen up, "slew the English lord" as the account reads and headed for America to avoid the hangman's noose or firing squad.

 Before I get to the poem, however, let's talk about the reality. If you want to know about Bloody Sunday, you can read Tony O'Hara's book, "The Time Has Come". It's a very personal account of his life, of his time imprisoned in the H Blocks, on the blanket protest, the Hunger Strikes (his brother was Patsy O'Hara) and from The Troubles to now. It's very open, honest, and personal. If it doesn't bring you to tears in places, you may not have a heart. If you want to buy a copy, tell me and I'll point you in the right direction.

 

Or you can head over to You Tube to hear his account of Bloody Sunday -

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gNHXT7KEWjU

As for the poem, you can read it here:

 http://www.troublesarchive.com/artforms/poetry/piece/butchers-dozen-a-lesson-for-the-octave-of-widgery

Or better still, listen to Donal Kelly recite it here:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4bZfRb0aaso

Each of those who died is referenced in the poem.

He does a far better job reciting it than I did, I have no doubt.

So on Sunday, as I go to church and move through the day, I will remember what happened fifty years ago......

The gentle rainfall drifting down
Over Colmcille’s town
Could not refresh, only distill
In silent grief from hill to hill.
-Thomas Kinsella, Butcher's Dozen

Thomas Kinsella died last month, December 2021, at the age of 93 in Dublin.

The victims, top row (l to r): Patrick Doherty, Gerald Donaghey, John Duddy, Hugh Gilmour, Michael Kelly, Michael McDaid and Kevin McElhinney. Bottom row : Bernard McGuigan, Gerard McKinney, William McKinney, William Nash, James Wray and John Young

 

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