The Sad Farewell

On Friday the 19th of March, a fine spring morning, people began to gather in the Village of Glenmore to bid a final and sad farewell to a man who had called Glenmore his home for 94 years. As friends and neighbours met, absent were the customary hugs and handshakes. The scourge of COVID continues and impacted on the customary Glenmore funeral practices. Undaunted, behind the mandated face masks and imposed distances, the gathered began to remanence and share fond memories of the wonderful, colourful Danny. As the bell of St. James began to toll the hearse carrying the earthly remains of Daniel Dowling (1927-2021) left the house where he was born in the village and slowly climbed the hill to the church followed by his family and a large crowd of mourners on foot. Along the roadway friends and neighbours stood in respect. At the gates of St. James’s, the hearse stopped and the six pallbearers placed the wooden coffin on their shoulders and carried it to the church. With COVID restrictions only ten family members could attend the funeral Mass, but loudspeakers broadcast the service to the mourners outside and the internet allowed family and friends across the globe to hear and see it. I was struck that Danny would have commented upon and written a note or two concerning the restrictions and the resulting blending of the old funeral customs with the new technology.

I had the privlege of meeting Danny and Mollie Dowling thirty years ago this coming October. My first, of what would become hundreds of outings with Danny, was to Kilcolumb ruins and graveyard. As Danny led me to the oldest Kennedy headstone in the parish he said, “None die so well as the poor.” He went on to explain that the poor did not feature in history and did not have headstones etc. There is little doubt that Danny embraced the field of social history as it emerged as an academic field of study in the mid-twentieth century. It was an alternative to conventional history that focused on great civilizations, politics and wars. Although Danny had an interest in history in general, he was far more interested in learning and recording the lives of ordinary local men and women. With absolutely no training, and few examples to follow, Danny went about interviewing and recording information regarding the local areas, events, traditions and people. Ever evolving and learning, Danny in 2018 told me that he thought that family history was the more correct title for his type of work.

Whatever category that may be put on Danny’s work, when Danny began what was to become his life’s work, he started with a simple pen and paper. There were no computers, internet, copiers or mobile phones. Danny never obtained a drivers license and traveled to libraries, archives, institutions and individuals via public transportation. He hand copied records into notebooks. He corresponded with a large number of individuals and institutions within Ireland and abroad. Danny often spent long hours reading old newspapers on micro-film in various libraries in order to find information to a query he received. Danny enjoyed his retirement where he devoted himself full time to pursuing his work armed with his transportation pass. When public transportation wasn’t available Mollie, or others, drove him to his destination. He was also a well known and well liked visitor to bookshops and book fairs across the country where he searched for books for his extensive collection.

Danny often remarked that there is no person that does not have an interest in history. It may not be the history taught in school, but it might be a history of their family, their land, sport, fashion, music or horse racing. He exhibited an uncanny ability to draw information out of people who often did not believe that what they provided was worth recording. Danny “never met a stranger” and never missed an opportunity to gather local information and record it. Some of his interviews were conducted after funerals, on the bus into Waterford, in the pub, in nursing homes or on the street when he encountered an old acquaintance. Danny always carried a small notebook, or sheets of paper, and would jot down notes of what was said. It is fascinating to transcribe Danny’s notebooks and follow his lines of inquiry across the years.

In education the term “life long learner” is a commonly used phrase, but Danny is actually one of the few people I have known who was a life long learner. In 2019 when Danny asked me to help put his work into a book about Glenmore, I suggested a blog. Danny had never seen a blog, didn’t understand how it would work, but liked the idea of a “weekly” history article backed by a website with static pages for family and townland information etc. Although 92 years of age he caught on quickly, and after we went live he soon began to ask how many visitors and “hits” we had and where they originated. He marveled at the ability of people around the world to view his work and to hear that descendents of long gone emigrants were able to research their way back to Glenmore. He expressed delight when he learned something new about Glenmore uncovered this past year in old newspapers now available on-line. Of course none of this would have been possible without the support and care Danny received as his health declined. It was no small task for Danny’s son Pat, and daughter-in-law Orla, to keep Danny well and safe particularly after COVID struck the country, but they succeeded.

Lest anyone who never met Danny is given the impression that he was a stuffy scholar, Danny, in fact, possessed a wicked sense of humour, had an infectious school boy giggle and his smile would light up the room. Like many others I shall miss my old friend, and thank him for asking and allowing me to help bring his life’s work to the world.

Ní beidh a leithéad ann arís. (His like won’t be here again.)

Dr. Kathleen Moore Walsh