Born: 17 October 1923, Lettermore, Rosmuck, County Galway
Entered: 07 September 1945, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Final vows: 02 February 1956, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Died: 09 May 2007, Cherryfield Lodge, Dublin

Part of the Manresa, Dollymount, Dublin community at the time of death.

Originally Entered in 1942 but Left March 1942 due to leg injury, re-joined 1945

◆ Interfuse
Interfuse No 133 : Special Issue September 2007
Obituary

Br Anthony (Tony) Bailey (1923-2007)
17th October 1923: Born in Lettermore, Rosmuck, Co. Galway.
Early education in local National School.
Left Lettermore in 1936 for Rathcarn, Athboy, Co. Meath.
15th September 1941: Entered Society at Emo as a Postulant, but had to leave in March 1942, suffering from a leg disease.
7th September 1945: Rejoined the Novitiate at Emo. After First Vows stayed on at Emo as Cook and Houseman.
He did a cookery course at Cathal Brugha Street, Dublin.
1968 - 1975: Mungret -
1968 - 1970: Cook, in charge of house staff and infirmarian
1970 - 1972: In charge of house staff and infirmarian
1972 - 1975: Cook, in charge of house staff and infirmarian
1975 - 1986: Tullabeg -
1975 - 1985: Assistant Maintenance man and gardener
1985 - 1986: Assistant Minister
1986 - 2007: Manresa - Painter / Decorator and houseman
9th May 2007: Died at Cherryfield Lodge, Dublin

Dermot Mansfield writes:
Tony Bailey always remembered his birth date, 17th October 1923, because it was the feast of St Margaret Mary Alacoque, one of his favourite saints. Always, indeed, he looked to the guidance and protection of the saints, including Ignatius, the young “Star”, as well as Margaret Mary, the Little Flower, and his own Anthony of Padua. Quite a motley lot, the seven are, but good congenial company for Tony. And now he has gone to join them. Many of us, I think, will include Tony among our favourites. Our memories of him are so rich, whether his mischievous wit and sparkling conversation are recalled, his quick intelligence, or his essential shyness, and deep love of quiet and contemplation. We surely have a good friend who will steer us still and keep us on the right track from the heavenly realms beyond.

He was born into the family of Colman Bailey and Anne Coyne at Lettermore, Rosmuck, in Co Galway. The world of Connemara, therefore, was his as a growing boy, and he received his formal education at the local National School. Then came a big upheaval, when the family moved in 1936 right across the country, to the new Gaeltacht set-up at Rathcarn, near Athboy in Co Meath. However, the West was not forgotten, and indeed Tony's first contact with the Jesuits was through our house in Galway. This eventually led him to first join the Society at Emo in September 1941 as a postulant. But TB meant he had to leave in March 1942, and he would then spend quite a while as a young patient in Cappagh sanatorium. Tony often spoke of that experience, and no doubt during it his spirit of patient endurance especially developed, as well as his gift of prayer. A legacy of his illness was the unhealed leg he had for the rest of his life.

In 1943, his sister Barbara joined the Society of the Sacred Heart at Mount Anville. Perhaps it was Barbara's example that helped Tony in his determination about his own vocation, leading him on 7th September 1945 to rejoin the novitiate at Emo. Without question, he was finally where he wanted to be, and was happy in that setting. In particular, he had a great warm regard for Tommy Byrne, his novice master, who cared for him in a fatherly way.

After his First Vows, Tony did a cookery course at Cathal Brugha Street in Dublin. He stayed at Milltown Park during that time, and was one of those who experienced the trauma of the life there. Then it was back to Emo, where he was to spend so many years as gifted cook, and where his vital personality would exercise an immense influence on the great number of novices passing through there in the 1950s and 1960s. In the somewhat Upstairs-Downstairs world of that time, it could be a pleasant change for us scholastic novices to be on experiment with the brothers and our fellow brother novices. The encouragement and humour of "the Abbot Bailey" helped many a downcast young soul, as did the example of what seemed to be his effortless spirit of prayer. Then again, his spontaneity could manifest itself in surprising ways, as when he brought home a captive cock pheasant, christened it “Montini” (after the new Pope in 1963), and with it started up a spectacular pheasantry. And it goes without saying that he loved the grounds, the farm, the lake and woodlands all around.

In 1968 he moved from Emo to Mungret along with Paddy Cusack. He was cook there for a while on the community side, but he had grown weary of that work, and moved out of it into dealing with the house staff and acting as infirmarian. Once again, nature enthralled him, especially the winter wildlife on Loughmore nearby, and along the Shannon estuary. In this regard Peter Doyle was a kindred spirit, as was Eric Cantillon, and also the fondly remembered scholastic of that time, Pat O'Farrell. They all had many interesting times and exploits together. Tony, of course, was interested in the boys and their welfare, and often those with similar interests would seek him out for chats.

With Mungret's closure in 1974, Tony was back up in the Midlands again, this time at Tullabeg. Although in itself not a house to inspire one or raise the spirits, Tony found much there to his liking. He had good company in Pat Guidera, Andy Bannon, and especially Brogan Whittle, his friend from Emo days. In particular, Michael Gallagher's time as superior was much valued by him, as were the visits and ministry of John Hyde. He loved the Public Church, its atmosphere, and was interested in all the people from near and far who found their way there. He made great friends in the neighbourhood, with families, like the McLoughlins, the Corcorans and the Guinans, to name but a few. As well, he took an active interest in the comings and goings of retreatants, both lay and religious, and also in the Tertians during their years there. His one trip out of Ireland was during these years, when he went on a pilgrimage to Lourdes organised by Brian McNamara. He thought very highly of Brian, and his heart went out to him as Brian struggled often in vain with his serious alcoholism.

In 1980 Tony's sister Barbara died, after 38 years in religious life. Eight years older, she, too, was a remarkable person, and was remembered affectionately by her Sacred Heart sisters. The things said of her point to somewhat similar aspects in Tony's character. She had “a passionate sense of justice, which made her suffer all her life”. She was seen as a “fiercely independent spirit”, who was “generous and forthright”. But, above all, this most certainly applies to her brother: “She was always filled with wonder at the work of God in the world and in people”.

A few years later came the next change, and one that posed a real challenge for Tony. For it can be said that our spacious country houses had suited Tony best, and very understandably. So how was he going to adapt when, in 1985, he finally came to Dublin and had to settle down in Manresa? How would he manage in the relatively confined atmosphere there? Formerly, because of his retiring nature, Tony could easily have his meals at times other than the official community one, but now there was no option like that open to him. Everyone came at the set times to dinner and supper, including the Novices from down the grounds. In addition, we had sisters and lay people on the retreat staff, and other visiting directors much of the time. But, in fact, Tony blossomed in such company, entering into conversation with everyone, and displaying interest in all that was happening. Again, too, he was in a Novitiate situation, and so he wished once more to be an encouragement to the younger men coming our way. And, importantly, he became especially close to Pat McNamara, who only a year or two earlier had made his own big change from Belvedere.

For other reasons one ought to have had no worries about Tony coming to Manresa. For, straightaway, he grew to love every inch of the grounds around him, and the trees, the birds, and all the wildlife along the seashore. At one stage he managed to entice red squirrels into our property, a delight to behold. Early on too, in memory of the great avenue of Californian Redwoods (”Wellingtonias”) at Emo, he planted a young example not far from the house, and which now twenty years later is steadily reaching for the sky - a fitting memorial to his own adventurous outlook. And the sky itself overarching Manresa in all its moods, and the movement of the stars and planets on winter nights, were for him a ceaseless source of wonder.

In February 1989 the spectre of ill health came over him again, with the sudden stroke that severely limited his activity, Courageously, he fought his way back to a good degree of mobility. If anything, however, he now became even more a central part of the community scene, aided by the care and friendship of Pat McNamara and Michael Gallagher, and then, too, Mike Drennan, among others. You could say that in these later years Tony really became the heart of our life together. He lightened things for us; he was full of questions and comment, and always his own spirit was a constant reminder of what really matters. Often be was to be found in the chapel. I will always picture him among that faithful group at our community Mass, along with Tom Donnellan, Pat McNamara, and Paddy Meagher.

It was a great shock, however, when Pat died suddenly just before Christmas in 1997. Tony missed him sorely. Yet he adapted in time, and continued on as best he could. There were still treasured family visits, of course, from his brother Jimmy and sister-in-law Kathleen, and from his fond nephew Seán, his wife Jacinta, and their children. There were the contacts from old friends of Rahan days. Sometimes there was loud laughter and animated talk over tea and cakes on Sunday afternoons in the community room, when Joe Osborne came to visit, or Jim Sutton and Brendan Hyland, Gerry Marks, or Jim Barry. George Fallon, too, was often a welcome guest at lunch. Also his faithful friend Brogan Whittle, who had left the Society at this stage, was a regular caller. And later, there was the valued company once again of Peter Doyle, and then of Joe Ward. As I recall, his last holiday was when Michael Gallagher brought him for some days to Galway, back once more to the West.

Then little signs were indicative, at least in hindsight, of the forgetfulness that overtook him more recently. We were all affected by this loss, by this withdrawal in him. Yet despite such diminishment somehow Tony always remained himself. The glint remained in his eyes, the liveliness in his striking voice. He really did continue to be a part of the community, until he required the permanent care that only Cherryfield could give. And finally, in his 84th year, he slipped gently away from this world, in the forenoon of Wednesday, 9th of May, 2007.

How fitting it was to bring his mortal remains back to Manresa – first, overnight, to the new Tertians' chapel, and then the next morning to the Retreat House chapel for his funeral Mass. In his homily, Joe Dargan spoke of Tony's gratitude at the end, and it was in a spirit of great gratitude that so many friends gathered for that final farewell, with large numbers of his family.

But also, although it was time for him to go, he cannot but be sorely missed by such a variety of family and friends, and by his Jesuit companions. Knowing Tony, and sharing our lives with him, was for many of us one of the greatest gifts we have ever received, His was a unique spirit, always vital, alert, interested, humble, vulnerable, and true. He could bring out the best in people, the humanity that was there, the prayer, the laughter within. And now in the company of the blessed, without a doubt he is still prodding us, and egging us on, and making us keep our eyes fixed on the main purpose of it all.

Born: 06 September 1932, Fairview, Dublin City, County Dublin
Entered: 07 July 1954, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Final vows: 15 August 1964, Mungret College SJ, Limerick
Died: 21 February 2017, Cherryfield Lodge, Dublin

Part of the Manresa House, Dollymount, Dublin community at the time of death.

Early Education at St Joseph’s, Marino

1956-1957 Tullabeg - Cook; Refectorian
1957-1960 Milltown Park - In charge of Staff; Refectorian
1960-1963 CIR - Ministers in Community
1963-1974 Mungret - Ministers in Community; Tertianship in Tullabeg (1963)
1974-1981 Coláiste Iognáid, Galway - Maintenance; Carpentry
1981-1982 Chelston, Lusaka, Zambia - Maintenance at Jesuit Education Centre, Xavier House
1982-1983 Chisekesi, Zambia - Maintenance at Canisius College
1983-1985 Manresa House, Dublin - Maintenance; Painter; Ministering in Community
1985-1992 Chisekesi, Zambia - Maintenance at Jesuit Residence, Canisius College
1992-2002 Mazabuka, Zambia - Maintenance and General Services at Nakambala Catholic Church
2002-2017 Manresa House, Dublin - Cares for the fabric of the House and Grounds

Born: 07 September 1900, Dublin City, County Dublin
Entered: 30 April 1925, Tullabeg
Final Vows: 02 February 1936, Sacred Heart College SJ, Limerick
Died: 20 October 1967, Manresa House, Dollymount, Dublin

◆ Irish Province News

Irish Province News 23rd Year No 4 1948

Manresa House, Dollymount, Dublin.
We moved in on Saturday morning, 14th August. Fr, Superior (Fr. McCarron), Fr. Minister (Fr. Kearns), and Bro. E. Foley constituted the occupying force, and Fr. T. Martin not only placed his van at our disposal, but gave generously of his time and labour for the heavy work of the first day.
A long procession of vans unloaded until noon, when the men broke off for their half-day, leaving a mountain of assorted hardware and soft goods to be unpacked and stowed. By nightfall we had a chapel installed, the kitchen working, dining-room in passable order, and beds set up, so we said litanies, Fr. Superior blessed the house and consecrated it to the Sacred Heart. Next morning Fr. Superior said the first Mass ever offered in the building. It was the Feast of the Assumption and a Sunday, so we. placed the house and the work under the Patronage of Our Lady and paused to review the scene. Fr. Provincial came to lunch.
The building is soundly constructed from basement to roof, but needs considerable modification before it can be used as a temporary Retreat House. The permanent Retreat House has yet to be built on the existing stables about 130 yards from the principal structure, but. we hope to take about twenty exercitants as soon as builders, plumbers, electricians, carpenters and decorators have done their work.
Fr. C. Doyle is equipping and furnishing the domestic chapel as a memorial to Fr. Willie, who worked so tirelessly for the establishment of workingmen's retreats in Ireland. A mantelpiece of this room has been removed, and thermostatically controlled electric heating is being installed. Lighting is to be by means of fluorescent tubes of the latest type.
With all due respects to the expert gardeners of the Province, we modestly assert that our garden is superb. Fr. Provincial was so impressed by the work done there that he presented us with a Fordson 8 H.P. van to bring the surplus produce to market. Under the personal supervision of Fr. Superior, our two professional gardeners took nine first prizes and four seconds with fourteen exhibits at the Drimnagh show. Twelve of their potatoes filled a bucket, and were sold for one shilling each. The garden extends over 2 of our 17 acres and will, please God, provide abundant fruit and vegetables.
From the beginning we have been overwhelmed with kindness: by our houses and by individual Fathers. Fr. Provincial has been a fairy-godmother to us all the time. As well as the van, he has given us a radio to keep us in touch with the outside world. We have bene fitted by the wise advice of Frs. Doyle and Kenny in buying equipment and supplies, while both of them, together with Fr. Rector of Belvedere and Fr. Superior of Gardiner Street, have given and lent furniture for our temporary chapel Fr. Scantlebury sacrificed two fine mahogany bookcases, while Frs. Doherty and D. Dargan travelled by rail and bus so that we might have the use of the Pioneer car for three weeks. Milltown sent a roll-top desk for Fr, Superior's use. To all who helped both houses and individuals we offer our warmest thanks, and we include in this acknowledgement the many others whom we have not mentioned by name.
Our man-power problem was acute until the Theologians came to the rescue. Two servants were engaged consecutively, but called off without beginning work. An appeal to Fr. Smyth at Milltown brought us Messrs. Doris and Kelly for a week of grueling labour in the house. They scrubbed and waxed and carpentered without respite until Saturday when Mr. Kelly had to leave us. Mr. Hornedo of the Toledo Province came to replace him, and Mr. Barry arrived for work in the grounds. Thanks to their zeal and skill, the refectory, library and several bedrooms were made ready and we welcomed our first guest on Monday, 30th August. Under the influence of the sea air, Fr. Quinlan is regaining his strength after his long and severe illness.
If anyone has old furniture, books, bedclothes, pictures, or, in fact anything which he considers superfluous, we should be very glad to hear of it, as we are faced with the task of organizing accommodation for 60 men and are trying to keep the financial load as light as possible in these times of high cost. The maintenance of the house depends on alms and whatever the garden may bring. What may look like junk to an established house may be very useful to us, starting from bare essentials. Most of all, we want the prayers of the brethren for the success of the whole venture, which is judged to be a great act of trust in the Providence of God.
Our postal address is : Manresa House, Dollymount, Dublin.

Irish Province News 43rd Year No 1 1968

Obituary :

Brother Edward Foley's death came as a shock to most of us. He looked so fresh and youthful that few realised that he was just three years short of the seventy mark. When we heard the details of his last illness the comment was “just as he would have it, no full”. For the record we give the details. On October 19th he said that he was very tired, too tired to remain on his feet. The doctor wisely suggested anointing. He received the last sacraments and slept his last sleep.
Brother Ned, as he was known, was a favourite everywhere, and he shared his light-hearted laughter wherever he went. The community to which he belonged was always the better of him being of it, whether it was the three-man community of Manresa in its earlier days or the almost one hundred strong of Tullabeg.
He had the ability to settle in wherever he was; he could adapt himself to circumstances or rather he was independent of them. In his exile in Tullabeg his laughter filled the recreation room in an enthusiastic game of cards or his voice filled the back kitchen as he sang while he peeled the potatoes. In Manresa where he was lonely he made friends with the local cat and it was amusing to see pussy at his heels the whole length of the avenue.
His light-heartedness was not an unfeeling indifference to people and things, on the contrary it was a deep thoughtfulness that had measured accurately the value of life, “Why worry?” he used to say “make the most of what you have”.
This thoughtfulness made Br. Foley's opinion on things most valuable. His criticism of a film, a play, a football game, or on more sedate things like music, a building or a sermon was always well worth hearing. The late Father Meaney, who preached well, when in the Crescent frequently read his sermons to Brother Ned and added or expanded where Brother Ned suggested that idea was not clearly explained.
His judgement of men was still more valuable. He could measure a boy on the staff, a scholastic, a Superior or a minister quicker than most, and his measure would be an accurate one, and a generous one.
His witty retorts were good, always made in a roguish way that could not offend. When the new drinking glasses he put on the table in the Crescent were criticised by Father Dillon-Kelly of happy memory : “I suppose they are Woolworth's best, Brother”. “I beg your pardon, Father, these are from Barbara Hutton's” - and he got by.
Brother Foley always got by, whether it was a Long Table dinner with the preparations left to the last minute or getting into Croke Park on an All-Ireland Final as when he put out his chest and swung his arms and joined the Artane Boys' Band as Brother in Charge.
Brother Foley had been working as a watch-maker before he joined the Society in 1925 at the age of twenty-five. A short while after his noviceship in Tullabeg he went as a founder member to Emo where with Fr. Corbett and Brother Tom Kelly (no longer in the Society) he did real hard work preparing Emo, which had been unoccupied for many years for the coming of the novices in
1930.
The Crescent was his home for fourteen years from 1932-46. Here he was cook, infirmarian, in charge of the staff and general factotum in the house and, for good measure, in the summer he took on the sacristy and Church collections. It was no trouble to him. He had that rare gift of being able to delegate, moreover, he could select a reliable delegate, and still more, he instilled a loyalty that made one feel privileged to have been chosen. This was so because he himself was most obliging and generous; a meal at an unusual time - “I'll have something for you”; a boy on the staff anxious to get to some special engagement - “You run off, I'll stand in”. He did these good turns so spontaneously and so cheerfully that one was more than happy to be able to do something for him by way of return.
From the Crescent he went to Clongowes for one year and in 1948 he went to the newly opened Retreat House at Manresa where he worked again as a general factorum for six years. In 1954 he spent one year in Tullabeg and then moved to Gardiner Street. This assignment was not an easy one. Though it brought him to his own locality in Dublin and to the Church where as a boy and a young man he had served on the altar, yet he was second in command to Brother Furlong. Brother Furlong, ageing at this time, had been over fifty years in office when Brother Foley arrived to take over, Here more than anywhere else the true Brother Foley showed itself. With a wisdom that was natural to him, and with a patience that was truly supernatural he smilingly played second fiddle and played in tune. While in Gardiner Street the first signs of illness showed themselves. He lost considerable weight and be came emaciated diabetes was diagnosed, but this he took in his calm philosophical way.
The last years of his life - 1962-67 - he spent at Manresa and there he died on October 20th, and died as he would have wished, giving trouble to no one.

Born: 11 November 1915, Ballyhaunis, County Mayo
Entered: 11 March 1941, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Final Vows: 02 February 1951, Rathfarnham Castle, Dublin
Died: 27 March 1999, Cherryfield Lodge, Dublin

Part of the St Francis Xavier's, Upper Gardiner Street, Dublin community at the time of death

◆ Fr Francis Finegan : Admissions 1859-1948 - Tailor before entry

◆ Interfuse
Interfuse No 101 : Special Edition 1999

Obituary

Br John Loftus (1915-1999)
11th Nov. 1915: Born at Ballyhaunis, Co. Mayo.
Early education: National School, Ballyhaunis.
Pre-entry crafts: 6 years with Prices Tailors.
11th Mar. 1941: Entered the Society at Emo.
12th Mar. 1943: First vows at Emo
1943 - 1953: Rathfarnham Staff Supervisor
1953 - 1972: Belvedere Staff Supervisor
1972 - 1976: Tullabeg, Staff Supervisor
1976 - 1981: Manresa House : Administration in Retreat House
1981 - 1998; S.F.X., Gardiner St.
During the 18 years he spent at Gardiner Street, John worked in various posts: Assistant Minister, Assistant Director SFX Hall, Buyer, Infirmarian, Assisting in the Community.

Brother John Loftus was admitted to Cherryfield Lodge on September 15th 1998 with leg ulcers. He was admitted to St. Vincent's Hospital on the 25th with pulmonary emboli, returning to Cherryfield on 12th October. He had to be hospitalized again on 13th November with severe bowel obstruction, and was discharged to Cherryfield on 9th December. His general condition was very poor and he was in need of total nursing care. There was a gradual deterioration in his condition and he surprised everybody by how long he held onto his life. He was under the care of Dr. Matthews. He died peacefully on Saturday evening 27th March 1999, aged 83 years.

Brother John Loftus was born on 11th November 1915 in Co. Mayo, about ten miles from Knock. He worked in Dublin at Tailoring for a number of years. During this period he lodged at the Brazen-Head guest house beside Wood quay. This is reputed to be the oldest pub in Ireland, going back to the 12th century, John was always proud of this achievement.

He joined the society in 1941 and took final vows in 1951. We were together on several occasions for summer holidays. He was always cheerful and my mother said he had a perpetual smile. He was very close to his family and often spoke about them. He had a great devotion to Our Lady and often went to make his Annual retreat at Knock, His faith was very strong. He always had his rosary beads in his hands. He never passed the chapel without opening the door, As he said to me 'I like to say hello to the boss'. His prayerful life spilled over into everyday life. I always noticed his kindness and gentleness to the poor.

He suffered a lot from arthritis, but he seldom complained. He was very patient man. I talked a good deal with him during his last illness. He was well prepared to meet with his God. I count it a privilege to have known and lived with him. I'm sure he's still smiling down upon us.

George Fallon

Born: 22 October 1901, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, USA
Entered: 30 April 1971, Manresa House, Dollymount, Dublin
Final Vows: 08 September 1981, Manresa House, Dollymount, Dublin
Died: 14 March 1982, Manresa House, Dollymount, Dublin

◆ Irish Province News

Irish Province News 57th Year No 3 1982

Obituary
Br Edward Maher (1901-1971-1982)

Although Br Ned was granted four score of years, his life as a Jesuit spanned little more than a decade. Before becoming “Brother” he had already filled the roles of father and grandfather. The present writer first made the acquaintance of Mr Ned Maher when he (Ned) came to have a chat with Fr Cecil McGarry about entering the Society. A very dapper man with a thin Ronnie Colman moustache; alert, brisk, humorous, at once affable and serious. All these adjectives could be applied to him twelve years later, right up to the time of his last (and really first) illness when it saddened e to see the alertness and humour fading into an almost puzzled resignation.
Ned was born in Philadelphia on 22nd October, 1901, was educated at Belvedere, Clongowes, UCD and Georgetown University. After a short spell working in a bank he took up business, in which he remained for the rest of his lay life. He entered the Society on 30th April, 1971, took his first rows on 29th April, 1973 and pronounced final vows on 8th September, 1981.
A jumble of memories comes to me as I remember Ned; his love for operatic works on stage or radio. The only holiday he allowed himself was a few days every year at 35 lower Leeson Street from which he could, with chosen companions, easily attend the operas at the Gaiety theatre. He was one of the few men I know who appreciated the works of Wagner.
Chess was a game he liked. I cannot say whether he was a skilful player, but he would take on any of the novices who knew how to play. Reading he loved, though within a rather restricted field. Surprisingly (though maybe not in a person of Wagnerian tastes) he focused his reading on the war histories and the memoirs of famous commanders. For one form of recreation he felt no attraction at all ... walking. We used joke him about never having seen the other end of our property, “Walking” for Ned was a purely functional exercise; to get to a bus or bank or post-office; and he hadn't any inclination to look at the birds of the air or the lilies in the field; they hardly existed for Ned.
Maybe I am remembering only the marginal things about Ned, the mere phenomena, as the existentialists would say. But surely it was in and through these “marginals” that one got to know and love the whole essence, flavour, tang and colour of the personality that was Ned. Devotion to crosswords, Curly Wee, Verdi and Puccini were always “in place”, in the place where “desipere” is the mark of a wise man.
So much for play. What about his work? Apart from one short and unsuccessful period as staff-manager in Mungret he was Bursar in Manresa House and secretary of the Retreat House. He really loved work; figures and account books were his delight. Being secretary to the Retreat House involved a huge correspondence especially with regard to booking-in retreatants. Since he was not too familiar with all the permutated titles of religious congregations, many an LSA sister would find herself on the list as OLA or vice versa. One day about five years ago I dropped in to see Ned and found him typing away in his tiny room, Thinking of the lovely house he had left I asked him to tell me honestly if he ever had moments of regret at leaving all that. He simply said “I would not want to be. anywhere else”.
It might be a bit too facile to write that Ned was a man close to God. He was of a generation that did not easily unburden the secrets of the heart. He belonged to the dutiful, carnest type of religious and was definitely conservative in his views on religious practice. But the surprising element in his make-up was his ability to combine these conservative attitudes with a marvellous and spontaneous capacity for getting along splendidly with younger people, especially with the novices. Because he was given the grace of living close to the young in the Society he was able to love them while rejecting, through incomprehension, or even antipathy, some of their tastes in music, clothes et cetera. The same was true on the part of the younger people. Love and respect in the Society goes beyond personal tastes in external things. The presence of the old and the young can be a blessing when both find the presence of the Lord in each other. It was this way with Ned and the novices.
Of course he never lost touch with the young of his own family and it was a source of great joy to him that his son Paul and daughter-in-law Mary kept in such close touch with him. His daughter Judith with her husband Michael were most attentive to him. It was a lovely sight on some Sunday afternoons to see the three generations of the Maher family strolling around the Manresa grounds:
Finally, just to remind those who knew him well of two familiar sayings of Ned: On being addressed at breakfast “How are you this morning, Ned?” his invariable and jocose reply was “Poorly, thank God”. And when a novice would tease him, as they constantly did, Ned would be heard to say in mock seriousness “Go away, BOY”.
Ned himself went away very peacefully at 4 am on the morning of 14th March with Fr Rector, his son Paul and his daughter Judith there to bid him a last farewell.

◆ The Clongownian, 1982

Obituary

Brother Ned Maher SJ

Although Br Ned was granted four score of years, his life as a Jesuit spanned little more than a decade. Before becoming a “brother” he had already filled the roles of father and grandfather. He has been described thus: “A very dapper man with a thin Ronnie Colman moustache; alert, brisk, humorous, at once affable and serious”. All these adjectives could be applied to him right up to his last (and really first) illness.

He was born in Philadelphia on 22nd October 1901, educated at Belvedere, Clongowes and UCD and Georgetown University. After a short spell working in a bank he took up business, in which he remained for the rest of his lay life. He entered the Society of Jesus on the 30th April 1971, took his first rows on 29th April 1973 and pronounced final vows on 8th September 1981.
Apart from one short period as staff manager in Mungret Br Ned was bursar in the Jesuit house in Dollymount and secretary of the Retreat House there. He really loved work; figures and account books were his delight. He had a great love of opera and reading and related very well indeed to the novices who live in Doilymount.

Of course he never lost touch with the young of his own family and it was a source of great joy to him that his son Paul and daughter-in-law Mary kept in close touch with him. His daughter Judith with her husband Michael were most attentive to him. Ned left this world peacefully at 4.00 a.m. on the morn ing of the 14th of March with his Rector, his son Paul and his daughter Judith there to bid him a last farewell.

Born: 02 December 1932, Cabra, Dublin
Entered: 22 December 1954, St Mary’s, Emo, County Laois
Final Vows: 02 February 1965, Rathfarnham Castle, Dublin
Died: 25 November 2023, Cherryfield Lodge, Dublin

Part of the St St Ignatius Leeson Street Community at the time of death

FSS
Born : 2nd December 1932 Dublin City
Raised : Cabra, Dublin
Early Education at St Agatha's William Street North, Dublin; St. Peters, Phibsborough, Dublin; Ringsend Tech, Dublin; Hosiery Mechanic; Cathal Brugha St College, Dublin
22nd December 1954 Entered Society at St Mary’s, Emo, County Laois
25th December 1956 First Vows at St Mary’s, Emo, County Laois
1957-1959 Clongowes Wood College SJ - Cook (from Jan 1957)
1959-1981 Rathfarnham - Cook
1964 Tertianship
2nd February 1965 Final Vows at Rathfarnham Castle, Dublin
1981-1983 Manresa House - Cook
1983-1985 Lahore, Pakistan - Administration at University Hall
1985-1987 Gardiner St - Cook; Social Services Centre
1987-1989 John Austin House - Social Services Centre Gardiner St; Minister
1989-2005 Belvedere College SJ - Minister; Social Services Centre
1993 Subminister; Assistant Sacristan; Pastoral Work in Inner City; Assists in School
2005-2012 Gardiner St - Pastoral Work in Innter City; Assists in Belvedere College SJ; Community Sacristan
2012-2023 Leeson St - Assistant Sacristan & Gardener; Visitor to Cherryfield Lodge Residents
2020 Prays for the Church and Society at Cherryfield Lodge

Interfuse No 44 : September 1986

Interfuse Interviews : Gerry Marks

On his career as a Jesuit Brother, ranging from the shining saucepans of Rathfarnham to the black pots of Pakistan. Gerry is now working in the Social Service Centre in Sherrard Street and he tells us what that's like.

Interfuse
How many years have you been in the Society now, Gerry?

Gerry Marks
Well, I entered in 1954 so I'm thirty-two years a Jesuit. I started off as a postulant in the old days in Milltown Park with Fr. Con Murphy. I don't know whether you'd count that as being in the Society: the Catalogus doesn't! Anyway, I was two and a half years there before going to the noviceship in Emo in 1954. I took my vows in 1956,

Interfuse
And when did you volunteer for Pakistan?

Gerry Marks
I went out there in 1983.

Interfuse
So you had been a heck of a long time in the Order before making that decision. Mainly cooking for the troops, right?

Gerry Marks
Yes, I spent most of my Jesuit life in the kitchen.

Interfuse
Did you get fed up with cooking, if that's the right way to put it, or what made you opt for the Foreign Missions?

Gerry Marks
Well, I was a long time cooking and I didn't know whether I liked it at times. It was nice in Rathfarnham Castle; I liked it there. But when I was changed from Rathfarnham to Manresa it felt like going back to the noviceship and starting all over again. So that's why I jumped at the offer of a job in Pakistan.

Interfuse
Had you thought for some years of going on the Missions or was that a spur-of-the-moment decision?

Gerry Marks
Years ago I had thought about going to a place like Zambia but it wasn't a very strong urge. I thought I was doing okay at the cooking. I felt that I was helping out and that I was making a fairly good job of it. I also felt it was the only thing I was capable of doing. I wondered what I could do to help in Zambia and felt that I would need some other talent to be able to help the people out there.

Interfuse
So what made you think you could help out in Pakistan?

Gerry Marks
It was Bill McGoldrick's example, really. When I saw how a man of his advanced age (!) could volunteer and be capable of doing the job out there, well, I said to myself, “If Bill can do it, then the bould Marks can do it!”

Interfuse
So you replaced him out there?

Gerry Marks
Actually, it just happened at the right time, I saw a notice on the board, looking for a replacement for Bill who was coming back for tertianship. I thought I might as well volunteer this time, I thought that there would be several volunteers and I wanted to get in first. In fact I was the only applicant - so the job was mine.

Interfuse
Did you know when you were going out that it was for a limited number of years?

Gerry Marks
Yes, the contract was for two years.

Interfuse
So you hadn't burnt all your boats?

Gerry Marks
No, it would certainly be different if you were going out for an indefinite period.

Interfuse
I don't have to ask you to tell us what you were doing in Pakistan because Interfuse readers have already heard all about the job from Bill McGoldrick. When it came to the end of your time out there, were you dying to come home or would you gladly have stayed on?

Gerry Marks
For me, that's a difficult question to answer. I was sorry to be leaving in one way and I was glad in another. The thing was, I had two types of work out there, I had an apostolate with people in “the villages”, as they're called, and I was working in a hostel with the students. I was sorry to be leaving the village work. But as regards the hostel work, I didn't think much of that. There wasn't a lot to do there, to tell you the truth, I wasn't cooking. I was just looking after the staff and taking in the students' fees. In the villages, on the other hand, I found that I was meeting people and getting to know a lot of them very well. I liked that part of the work and wouldn't have minded staying on doing it.

Interfuse
Would you recommend this kind of a two-year stint to the other Brothers in the province?

Gerry Marks
I would recommend it to them if they were going to be let do the pastoral work and not confined to the hostel. You don't feel it worthwhile if you're working indoors most of the time. You meet the students and talk to them (mostly in English). I am sure that many of our middle-aged Brothers would find the pastoral work in the villages very fulfilling. I'd recommend that to any Brother because he'd be really in the middle of things where there is such great work to be done.

Interfuse
Did you find the living conditions hard yourself or did you get used to them fairly quickly?

Gerry Marks
The living conditions are okay. When I got used to the heat - 110 degrees in the dining room: great if you want to lose a bit of weight - and when I got rid of the mosquitos from my room, then living conditions were grand. The food was okay, too.

Interfuse
How was it cooked?!

Gerry Marks
Oh, it was cooked alright. But I must say that the kitchen that they had was a bit primitive and the standard of hygiene was bad. I don't think it would pass the Eastern Health Board here. I went into the kitchen when I went there first and saw that the pots were jet black. You see, the type of gas they use is a very dirty natural gas and it blackens everything in sight. All the pots were covered with this thick, black stuff, inside and out. Anyway, I got going on these pots and when I finished they were practically shining. Everything was grand for a month or so. Then they began to go black again. I just said to myself, “Sure if they've survived up to now, they can survive a few years longer”. So, I left it at that. The “black stuff” must have been edible.

Interfuse
What was the general standard-of-living like?

Gerry Marks
Some Irish Jesuits talk about Ballynun being poverty stricken. They should see the conditions in the villages in Pakistan and see the so-called housing, the little bits of shacks people live in. It is a very poor nation, materially. The one thing they have out there is the sun. I think that's what keeps them happy in their poverty. They are very happy people, believe it or not.

Interfuse
What did it feel like to live in a non-Catholic country?

Gerry Marks
Strange. I thought that when I went out first. The Moslems are friendly, though, and will shake hands with you when they meet you in the street. When they see a white face coming along, some of them will come over and say, “You are welcome”. Others might ask, “What did you come out here for?” If you say, “to work”, they wonder why you came to Pakistan where there are so many unemployed. In a way I felt sad for them because they were really good people and, if they got the chance, they'd probably make better Catholics than I am. If I ever got the opportunity, of course, I used to speak to them about the Catholic faith.

Interfuse
And how did that go down?

Gerry Marks
Well, there are a lot of things about Christianity that they find peculiar. For instance, they can't understand how God could have a son. They do have a certain devotion to the Blessed Virgin Mary, as you know. They don't call her that; they call her the Mother of Christ the Prophet. They try to make out, through our Gospels even, that Christ promised Mohammed. They quote the text, “I am going to the Father and I will send to you a paraclete who will make all things clear”. This word, “paraclete”, in their script and in their writings, is very similar to the word for prophet. So they take this as pointing towards Mohammed. They don't realise that it was the Holy Spirit that Jesus promised the apostles and when you explain this to them, they do begin to doubt a little.
I was surprised to find that they have “Christian” mountains in the Himalayas. I was out on a trip one day and they pointed out a peak near K2 called Murray. I discovered it meant Mary. It is a big mountain and Mary is supposed to be buried beneath it. Then they point in another direction and tell you that Jesus Christ is buried over there. They say that He didn't die on the cross. His friends took him down off the cross before He died and brought Him off to the East. They can show you the mountain where He is buried.

Interfuse
Did you ever talk about religion with the students in the hostel?

Gerry Marks
Oh yes, in the hostel the students were very open. They each had different ideas on religion. Each one had his own way of thinking. We had one Shiite Moslem with a most unfortunate name. Br. McGoldrick will remember him well. If I had ever to call his name out over the yard for a phone call, I would hear a roar of laughter from the Australian Jesuits in the dining room. They used to think I was using a bad word! Anyway, he was a very nice fellow, going on to be a doctor. There was so much bribery and corruption going on in that profession that he was becoming quite disillusioned. After the doctors had performed an operation, they would go straight back to their own private clinics and leave the aftercare of a patient to the nurses. In this way they made stacks of money, thousands of rupees. That's why this student was so very disillusioned. But he was a very sincere Moslem and he would tell me all about the high moral standards he had set for himself.

Interfuse
So, eventually, the time came when you had to return to Ireland. Did you know what you'd be doing when you came home?

Gerry Marks
No. I didn't know at the time. I went and spoke to the Provincial and he told me he was looking for someone to work in the Social Service Centre, So I agreed to give it a go. Joe went on to tell me they needed someone to do the cooking on Saturdays and Sundays in Gardiner Street and wondered if I'd mind “keeping my hand in”. I didn't mind.

Interfuse
Tell us a wee bit about the Social Service Centre.

Gerry Marks
Well, I did feel a bit at sea here at first. I was always looking for a white collar job. I always had the white collar but never had the job! Anyway, I found myself coming into this job, doing office work for four days a week. As you know, there are three Sisters here and two Brothers, Eamonn Davis and myself. One of the Sisters, Sr. Mary de Porres, works in the Home Help office. The other two, Sr. Joseph and Sr. Susan, work with Eamonn Davis and myself.

Interfuse
I presume you get all sorts of problems with no two days the same? It just depends on who rambles in off the street looking for help in some shape or form?

Gerry Marks
Yes. You have to be ready for all sorts. You can get people who are very nice and polite. You can get ladies who are practically weeping looking for help because they have problems in their homes and that type of thing. Then you have tough lads coming down here straight from Mountjoy Jail. They come in here looking for money. I can tell you that Sr. Joseph is glad to have a few able-bodied men around the place at times.

Interfuse
Have you grown to like the job by now?

Gerry Marks
Well, of course, work being what it is, I sometimes get those Monday morning feelings. It's not terribly heavy work, physically speaking, even though sometimes you may have to move second-hand furniture or washing machines around. But I've got used to it. I was always used to meeting people and talking to people because I am a member of the Legion of Mary.

Interfuse
Did you find your Legion background a big help?

Gerry Marks
Yes, definitely. We visit a lot of old people. Some of them are psychiatric cases. Some of them are people who have been left alone and have no relations. They love you to stay a long time with them and talk to them. I give them as much time as possible. We each have a list of people to visit. There are about twenty-four people on my list. There are poor people and there are lonely people and they love to have you in their home for a chat, I find this very fulfilling work, visiting people who are on their own. I have to take my turn in the office as well, it's the visiting that I find most rewarding. I've discovered that the majority of these people know very little about the different grants and things that can be done for them by the Eastern Health Board or by us. There are a good few lonely old people around that we have done a lot for, Using the Eastern Health Board grants to have their houses done, helping them with their gardens and things like that: that's the type of work I like.

Interfuse
And your overall assessment of the work done by the Centre?

Gerry Marks
It's terrificly well organized and I think Fr. John Murphy is mainly responsible for that. The organizational structure of the Centre is very simple but very effective. We have a Staff Meeting every Thursday where we can discuss problem cases and help one another with advice. All in all, I can assure your readers that the Centre is a work of which the Province can be justly proud.

Interfuse No 70 : Autumn 1992

TO YOUGHAL AND BACK

Christopher Murray

“Little did I realize what was ahead for me when Eamonn Davis and Gerry Marks invited me to join them on this special occasion. I am grateful to them because it was a great day, a very pleas ant and enjoyable one. This was a surprise and delight for me, an American Jesuit on sabbatical who happened to be visiting Ireland and Belvedere College at the right time...”. So writes another participant, Brother Pat Flanagan from New York; and doubtless there will be yet more testimonies to the great day, and to the forth coming pilgrimage to Rome...

Thursday morning had us all on our feet at a rather early hour, a somewhat overcast sky and a hope of a very pleasant day. It was also the end to all discussion as to who was going and who was not and what exactly was the programme for the day.

At Gardiner St. all were ready in good time and waiting for the arrival of the bus after scoffing a plate of Bro. Loftus’ porridge and a cup of hot coffee - which he had been preparing for our comfort at 5 am. amid the sound of some musical noises and some not so musical.

The bus arrived in good time and Tom Phelan was buzzing around (rather early for him too!) making sure the “old men” were able to climb up the steps and find a comfortable seat for the long journey. All in place and then “where are the Belvedere Brothers?” In the distance Bros. Marks and Davis were seen cornering at speed and making their way up Gardiner St. to a general sigh of relief. Then came a gasp and a groan as Gerry headed in the direction of the church door as if to do his meditation, but he quickly had second thoughts and headed for the bus, to a collective sigh of relief. So on we went to collect our other passengers for the journey and found the Provincial waiting at Milltown Park to give us a send-off.

Our first stop was planned for Kilkenny with a pick-up at Naas where Bros. O'Connor and Fitzgerald were patiently awaiting our arrival. A somewhat uneventful run on to Kilkenny to the murmur of voices, which gradually grew louder as the morning blues wore off. A very pleasant breakfast awaited us and arrangement made for a meal on our evening return at 7 pm. It was a very light-heart ed and noisy crowd that boarded the bus for our Onward journey, even the bus driver became one of the excursionists!

The sun was shining brightly and the holiday spirit took over and all bother and curiosity about “what's next” was put aside, and there were some mild attempts at song and joke intermingled with comments on the places we were passing thro' and old memories evoked by some on a former journey through the same place.

Arriving finally and in good “timetable” time we found a welcoming PP, with some others, at the beautiful and ideally situat ed parish church, and were all greeted individually with great warmth. A new church in a new housing area, in very beautiful surroundings, and most pleasing to the eye.

A very restful and inspiring Mass and a reflection on Dominic Collins followed and we all felt it alone was worth the journey. A very pleasant meal, back in the town, in the welcome and warm company of the PP and then a kind of aimless ramble from here to there with Dominic Collins connections, a visit also to the SH Convent where we were graciously greeted by Mother Provincial and a quiet visit to “Exposition of the BS” which was mainly the care of the local laity. A visit to the Protestant pre-Reformation church, with visible relics and reminders of its former owners. We ourselves were the object of no little curiosity and possibly the locals had never seen such a large body of “Clericals” ambling idly around and “gawking” in at shop windows and various other places, - and wondering was this an outing for decrepit clergy! accompanied, of course, by some younger “keepers”.

I would leave it to others to describe the hilarity of the return journey, the very adequate and pleasant dinner in Kilkenny, and the hilarity and variety of real talent we enjoyed on what seemed a short journey home. The satisfaction expressed by all at the well planned day by those who had the care on their shoulders. The MC of what we might describe as the Return Concert was as good as the hidden talent that came to light in such abundance. It wasn't a very prayerful day but I think Dominic Collins would have enjoyed it very much.

Born: 06 August 1923, Edinburgh, Midlothian, Scotland
Entered: 24 September 1973, Manresa House, Dollymount, Dublin
Final Vows: 02 February 1985, Coláiste Iognáid, Galway
Died: 11 March 2002, St Vincent’s Hospital, Dublin

Part of the Croftwood, Cherry Orchard, Dublin community at Cherryfield Lodge, Dublin at the time of death.

by 1981 at Lahore Pakistan (MISS PAK) working

◆ Interfuse

Interfuse No 112 : Special Edition 2002

Obituary
Br William (Bill) McGoldrick (1923-2002)

6th Aug. 1923: Born in Edinburgh
Early education at De La Salle, Dundalk
Worked as a grocery assistant in Dundalk until 1952. Also worked in a general store in Muff, Co. Donegal.
He was employed by Maypole Dairy, London. Later joined Marks & Spencer in Essex for twelve years.
He was a member of the Legion of Mary.
It was while he was at the Morning Star Hostel that the possibility of joining the Jesuits surfaced.
24th Sept, 1973: Entered the Society at Manresa House, Dublin
3rd April 1976: First Vows at Manresa House
1976 - 1977: Betagh House - Minister
1977 - 1980: St. Ignatius Galway - Infirmarian; Sacristan
1980 - 1983: University House, Lahore, Pakistan - Minister
1983 - 1989: Galway - Sacristan; Infirmarian; Assistant in House
1983 - 1984: Tertianship at Tullabeg
2nd Feb. 1985: Final Vows in Galway
1989 - 2002: Cherry Orchard
1989 - 1990: Minister; Community Development
1990 - 2000: Minister; Health Prefect; Community Devel.
2000 - 2002: Residing in Cherryfield Lodge
11th March 2002: Died in St. Vincent's Hospital, Dublin.

Bill was admitted to Cherryfield in April 2000. He remained in reasonably good health until December 2001. He was admitted to St. Vincent's Hospital with a kidney infection. He returned to Cherryfield Lodge on 16 January 2002, but his general condition was much weaker and he was re-admitted to hospital on 20th January, suffering from severe respiratory distress. Bill's condition deteriorated and he died peacefully in St. Vincent's Hospital on 11 March 2002.

Bill Toner writes....
As I write this I am looking at a photograph of Bill given to me by Bill's sister, Mary. Bill is in a white coat, standing at the counter of a grocery store. Behind him is a notice reading, New Zealand Butter 3s/2d., and a multitude of tins arranged in a series of tall pyramids. Bill has the expression of a man you would not trifle with. The picture was taken somewhere in London, in one of the branches of Maypole dairies where he worked in the 1950s.

Bill had a varied life. His father worked for Maypole dairies before him, and was sent to work in Edinburgh, where Bill was born. Later his father was moved to the branch in Dundalk, where Mary and the younger children were born. Bill was educated in the local De La Salle School. Bill liked to recall when, in answer to a question, he told the class he had three brothers and a sister and, because the teacher had not heard of Mary's arrival, was slapped for telling lies. Bill went to work in a variety of jobs in Dundalk, mostly in shops. While working in a butcher's shop he had an unfortunate argument with a colleague about a meat knife, which led to an injury to his finger, so severe that two joints were eventually amputated. Bill worked for a while in a shop belonging to a Mr. Corr, who was the grandfather of the Corr's pop group family. The early death of his brother Sean, whom he was very close to, upset him so much that he wanted to leave Dundalk, and he answered an ad for a job in Muff, Co. Donegal. The shop was one of the old-fashioned general stores which did everything from serving drink to undertaking, and Bill stayed there for many years.

Bill was active in the Legion of Mary, and this seems to have been a principal motive in going to live and work in England. He worked in a variety of shops in London, and eventually went to Marks and Spencer in Ilford, where he worked in stores and security for about 10 years. Eventually, around 1970, he returned to Dublin to work full-time in the Legion's Morning Star hostel, where someone suggested to him that he should join the Society, which he did at the age of 50.

I only came to know Bill well when I went to Croftwood Park. Bill was already well established there having arrived at the time of the move from No.73 to No.25. Bill settled in very well. His varied life experiences and a rather liberal streak meant that nothing shocked or surprised him, and he was very non-judgmental about the behaviour of some of his more colourful neighbours. This meant that he was rarely lonely, as many came to him to talk over problems or just to chat and share a fag. Bill admitted that he had smoked since the age of ten, and although this was to catch up with him in the end, it broke a lot of barriers in a place like Cherry Orchard, where smoking is endemic.

Bill was a natural home-maker. With only limited apostolic opportunities in the area, particularly as his health and mobility declined, Bill saw one of his principal duties as making No.25 a homely and welcoming place. He was always on hand to see off members of the Community on their travels, and to welcome them home and offer to make a cup of tea. He loved to chat, and had a fund of anecdotes from his many different jobs, both inside and outside the Society. He was always a man to bury the hatchet, but he had marked some of the burial spots well, and liked to trot out a few favourite "hurts' he had suffered along the way.

Order and routine were important to Bill, so he was a very valuable anchor man in the community, ensuring that there was some order in the day, that Mass and meals were regular, and that birthdays were remembered. He was a careful housekeeper, and would have regarded it as a personal failure if something like sugar or toilet paper ran out (which it never did). When he began to go to Cherryfield for brief annual 'overhauls', he would return to Croftwood appalled to find that we were on our last tea-bag and there was no ice-cream in the fridge. Although there was no doubt that he held us all in the community in the highest esteem in regard to such things as writing articles or running meetings, he never regarded us as really competent to wash a milk jug or close the fridge door properly.

Those who knew Bill only in later years might think of him as rather frail, but in his prime he was physically very strong. One of his occasional pastimes was arm-wrestling, and in Pakistan he built up quite a reputation and was often challenged by the locals. Apparently he always won. In Croftwood he confined himself mainly to playing chess, particularly with a neighbour, Eddie Keating, who liked to call in for a game in the evenings. Bill also followed football and liked to watch it on T.V., and as a Dundalk fan he enjoyed an off the pitch rivalry with Gerry O'Hanlon who favoured St. Pats. From his London days Bill followed Spurs, but they gave him little joy in recent years.

Bill was very good to the local children, but when they were really wearisome I would sometime send Bill out to deal with them, as an ultimate sanction. In his early days in Croftwood two small boys used to call each day to the door and Bill would give them a biscuit. One day they came but he had no biscuits. So as they went out the gate the two little boys picked up stones and threw them at him. Bill used to tell this story as a kind of parable, but it did not stop him giving the occasional sweet. One Halloween he decided to give out mini chocolate bars instead of apples. Word seemed to spread to the furthest reaches of Cherry Orchard until eventually we were eaten out of house and home by large gangs of masked children. Bill taught many of the local children sign language for the deaf, a skill he had picked up in his Legion days. I cannot recall a single community Mass where Bill did not pray for the children in the street.

Bill's spirituality was deep in his bones, in the way you might expect of a lifelong member of the Legion of Mary, But in many ways he wore it very lightly and was never over-pious or preachy. From time to time he ran prayer or rosary groups in the house, but he usually shared his spirituality in a quiet way, When he chatted to local people he would often end up giving them a pair of rosary beads or a leaflet about John Sullivan.

Bill was immensely happy being a Jesuit, and clearly considered it a great grace that came out of the blue relatively late in his life. He had great affection for his fellow-Jesuits, and never seemed to forget anyone he had ever lived with, whether in the novitiate, or Temple Villas, or Galway, or Pakistan or Cherryfield Lodge. He was very devoted to his family, and was particularly close to his sister Mary, who, along with her three daughters and son, was a frequent visitor to Croftwood.

Bill was sadly missed in Croftwood, by neighbours as well as by his Community, when he moved to Cherryfield. He had time for people. It is sobering to wonder if those of us who dash around the place 'doing good' will be remembered with half as much affection. May Bill's generous and gentle soul find joy and fellowship at the heavenly table of the Lord.

Born: 29 September 1931, Ballylongford, County Kerry
Entered: 01 March 1950, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Final Vows: 02 February 1962, Belvedere College SJ, Dublin
Died: 19 December 1997, Manresa, Dollymount, Dublin

◆ Interfuse No 97 : Special Edition Summer 1998 & ◆ The Belvederian, Dublin, 1998

Obituary
Br Patrick (Pat) McNamara (1931-1997)

29th Sept. 1931: Born in Ballylongford, Co. Kerry
Pre-entry experience: He worked for the Jesuits for 2 years at Mungret College, Limerick
1st March 1950: Entered the Society at Emo
17th March 1952: First Vows at Emo
1952 - 1953: Tullabeg, Cook
1953 - 1954: Milltown Park, Cook
1954 - 1955: Emo, Cook
1955 - 1984: Belvedere, Cook. He subsequently held the positions of Minister, Health Prefect, In charge of staff, House Consultor. He took a sabbatical break in 1983.
1984 - 1997: Manresa House, Minister, Prefect of Health
19th Dec. 1997: Died at Manresa House aged 66.

Pat died suddenly at Manresa House at the end of a normal working day in the evening of 19th December. May he rest in the Peace of Christ!

Homily at the Funeral Mass of Br. Pat : Jesus is the Way to Life

“O come, thou key of David, come and open wide our heavenly home; Make safe the path that leads on high and close the path to misery”.

These words from the hymn 0 come, O come Emmanuel express some of our Advent desires. We are a people in waiting for the coming of the Lord, but the Lord is also waiting to come to us. This time is one of preparation, of getting ready, of creating space for the Lord. We are a people in need, but we have to acknowledge that, if we are to be open to the gift of God, Jesus, who comes to us. The prophet cried in the wilderness to prepare the way of the Lord. Like the exiled people of Isaiah, we look for a new era, a time of consolation, when the desert is in bloom, the valleys filled, the uneven ground levelled, and the crooked ways straightened. These would facilitate their journey home from exile, as well as ours. We are a people in need of consolation and joyful hope and that is even more true in our time of sorrow, in our loss, at Pat's sudden death.

We are sad on this day at the loss of a brother - a brother to his own family and a brother to us Jesuits, as well as to his many friends. His death brings up much feeling, grief, loss, sorrow, emptiness, shock ...and we need space for all that. There is an element of being stunned by Pat's hasty departure without any chance to say good-bye. He was ready, but we were not. Our hearts go out to his family on this occasion for he loved his family and was concerned about each and all of them. But as well as joining with you in the sadness of this day, we are with you in faith. Our sorrow is real and we grieve together, we share a great loss, but our hope is solidly grounded in the Lord. Because of our faith we do not grieve as those who have no hope; life has changed not ended. There is a new beginning as well as an ending. A new pathway has opened.

The Jesuit way of life might be described as a pathway of discipleship; it is a way of following the Lord, which Pat embarked on more than 47 years ago. Most of that time was spent in Belvedere, where he formed many friends with staff, parents and pupils, and did much work that served the Society and its mission. The past 13 years were spent in Manresa, where he had more space and scope for his talents with plants and flowers - he blossomed anew in that environment. His care of the lawns, the trees, and flowers evoked many favorable comments. His gentle reminder to retreatants about the flowers - to leave what is out there, out there, so that we can all enjoy them, brought smiles to many faces. His warm and caring personality was genuine and touched people. Your presence here today in such large numbers is a fitting testimony to Pat's life, as well as being a great source of support to his brothers Jimmy, George, Michael, his sister Sally and their families.

Pat was familiar with the Spiritual Exercises as a way of growing in relationship with the Lord. Two key parts of that are the Kingdom and the Two Standards. The Kingdom calls us to be generous in offering ourselves to be with and to be for the Lord, who has been generous to us; the other exercise is to help clarify our motivation so that we are not led astray, nor deceived, in our following. The Kingdom and the Two Standards are significant in the lives of any Jesuit, but it would seem that Pat to some degree reversed them. I think that he had Two Kingdoms and One Standard. He loved his native Kerry and kept regular contact with his family. Late last September he was jubilant when Sam went home after an eleven year absence. It is fitting that the funeral cortege came by Croke Park yesterday evening and that it paused for a moment there. That is the only other shrine where Pat worshipped; he liked to go there regularly and had the ability to get in at minimum cost. He loved the Kingdom, but that was not at variance with his service to the Lord's Kingdom, which was the heart of his life. His standard was clear; he was not easily deceived. He was a man of faith and of prayer, who kept the faith, who shared the faith, and who finished the race. He prayed the Rosary daily with the domestic staff. He was a man of God for others.

The Christian way of life is one of service. Pat rarely wanted anything for himself; service was key to his life. A few years ago Pat wanted a new tractor and he got it in early December - he referred to it as his Christmas present, but it was a gift for others; he loved to use it - some of the staff described it as his Formula One machine, but it was to improve Manresa for others. He was a welcoming presence and felt the place should be the same. He wanted the grounds to look well as they provided a good atmosphere for the people who came to pray. More recently he wanted to redo the Avenue. It had to wait because of some building and then because the gateway needed to be rebuilt for the safety of people who came here. Finally he got all the parts in place. The gateway was built and a new gate was designed and ordered. Arrangements for the tarmacadam were put in place. He was preparing a way for others, a safer way. The tarmacadam was finished on Friday morning last and the new gate was to be hung the next morning. But Pat was called to travel a different avenue and enter another gate that Friday evening. Christmas had come early, Christ had come to Pat to call him home; a new era had dawned as the journey was complete.

This verse might fit with this time of year and summarise his faith journey in life, a faith that led him safely home to the Lord who welcomed him at the gate:

“I said to the man who stood at the gate of the Year, 'Give me a light that I may tread safely into the unknown. And he replied, Go out into the darkness and put your hand in the hand of God.
That shall be to you better than light and safer than a known way.”

Pat has travelled that known way and entered that New Year, that new era, in the Kingdom of the Lord, who welcomes him home. May he now enjoy the fruits of his labours in eternal rest, light and peace.

Mike Drennan, SJ

Born: 16 April 1896, Rhode, County Offaly
Entered: 11 December 1920, St Stanislaus College, Tullabeg, County Offaly
Final Vows: 02 February 1931, Rathfarnham Castle, Dublin
Died: 25 August 1977, Jervis Street Hospital, Dublin

Part of the Manresa, Dollymount, Dublin community at themtime of death

◆ Fr Francis Finegan : Admissions 1859-1948 - Chauffeur before entry

◆ Irish Province News
Irish Province News 52nd Year No 4 1977
Manresa
Having lost two members of our community as a result of the status we suffered a more lasting loss on August 25 when Brother Laurence McNamee died suddenly. He had been mildly unwell for a few days but was up and about and quite well enough to entertain his sister a Cross & Passion nun. Brother John Loftus was driving the sister back to her convent in Glandore Rd and Bro Laurence went also for the drive; at the bottom of Griffith Ave, he collapsed; Bro Loftus rang for an ambulance immediately and Fr Dargan rushed to Jervis St Hospital to anoint Bro Laurence; officially he was dead on admission.
When one thinks of Bro Laurence one is reminded of Mary Purcell's life of Blessed Peter Fabre ... The Quiet Companion; so gently and so quietly and so prayerfully did he pass his last years.
Fr Ambrose McNamee, O Carm. (nephew) was chief concelebrant at the Requiem Mass in Gardiner St.

Irish Province News 56th Year No 3 1981

Obituary

Br Laurence McNamee (1896-1920-1977)

A great worker. He said the one time he was tempted to leave the Society was when he was sent to Emo to get the place ready for the novices and was then told to do nothing as the contract of sale had not yet been signed. Earlier in Tullabeg he looked after the car. Bringing back three novices (after their appendicitis operations in St Vincent's hospital on Stephen’s Green) from Tullamore, the car lost a wheel just after crossing a bridge near the gate of Charleville castle. He promptly took one nut off each of the other wheels and fixed the wandering wheel to bring the novices safely back to Tullabeg. Back in Tullabeg during the war, he looked after the 'gig' or 'back-to back' which in those petrol-starved days carried Jesuits to and from Tullamore and the train. He took the same care of the horse as he did previously of the motor-car, with the result that the steed grew fat and kicked.

Born: 15 January 1915, Portroe, County Tipperary
Entered: 24 March 1935, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Final Vows: 15 August 1945, Belvedere College SJ, Dublin
Died: 13 January 1977, Manresa, Dollymount, Dublin

Brother of Michael McShera - Ent 05/04/1931; LEFT 04/02/1943

◆ Irish Province News 52nd Year No 2 1977 & ◆ The Belvederian, Dublin, 1977

Manresa
Brother Tony McShera’s heart attack and death during the weekly prayer-meeting on Thursday 13th January was a great shock to our community. He had been at the retreat house door to welcome the participants in his usual hearty manner, and he had just spoken during the meeting itself when the Lord called him. He could not have died in a more appropriate setting, at prayer and in the midst of his friends.

Obituary :

Br Anthony McShera (1915-1977)

Born January 15th at Portroe, Co. Tipperary, he was educated at the Christian Brothers School, Sexton St, Limerick, to the end of his first year Inter. Certificate. He entered the Noviceship on March 24th 1935 and pronounced his First Vows on March 28th 1937.
1937-1954: Cook: Belvedere, where he pronounced his Final Vows on August 15th 1945.
1954-1969: Cook, Milltown Park.
1969-1977: Cook: Manresa House, Dollymount. Died: January 13th 1977.

The long “innings” which he had as cook in each house speaks its own praise, both as regards his work, and as regards the satisfaction he gave to his communities.

Father James Healy, now in Milltown Park, remembers him well. “Living with Brother ‘Mac’ in Milltown was a joy and a pleasure: the pleasure of eating well and the joy of knowing that his professional skill always provided plenty, wasted nothing and cost the minimum. As a scholastic I loved to watch him in the Servery, carrying and dis hing out vegetables for a Community of 80 or more; he had been up since 5.30; had given us porridge and dished out lovely hot bacon and eggs when the mob arrived in a rush for breakfast; he'd spent the whole morning preparing for this moment and for our dinner. He was proud to feed us, so quickly, so pleasantly. His joy was in our pleasure.
‘Mac’ had a wonderful way with the boys on the domestic staff. There was competition among them to get into the kitchen. Once there you served a strict apprenticeship, and you made a lifelong friend. Here was a master craftsman, respecting his tools and materials, rejoicing in his creations, expecting you to do likewise. Be clean. Be punctual. Be methodical. Learn your trade thoroughly. Join a union. I still meet Mac's protegés and they are all proud to be imitators of him, all extremely grateful to him for the formation he gave them.
Mac was still going strong when I returned to teach in Milltown. One year I noticed his room had been changed to a worse one. How come? The Minister had to change someone and knew that Mac would take it more charitably than the alternative victim.
He was never Tony to me not I Jim to him. Titles did not matter. We played golf together. Eugene Ward and Joe Conran invited Mac and myself to make a four for a golfing holiday in Newcastle, Co Down. It must have been one of the first mixed priest-brother villas. Somehow, Mac and I formed a new bond on that villa; the golf brig comes in a variety of species and ours seemed to be - opposed? - well, 'different from that of our companions. Of course the four of us were mad, fanatical. Only we laughed at different moments. Any Christian can share your sorrows. It takes a friend to smile together-– as we did, reminiscently, in later years when I occasionally met him in Manresa. The pleasures pass, the joy remains”.

Father J. C Kelly, S.J., of Milltown Park writes: “He told me, in his inimitable Limerick accent, that one day as a young fella’ he realised with blinding clarity that his vocation in life was to be a cook, He never wanted to do anything else. At the height of his powers in the late fifties in Belvedere, he was a superb cook: and his day began at five o'clock in the morning in the Dublin market buying fresh vegetables. He went to the market on his bike”.

His recreation was golf. Father Matt Meade recalls his dedication to his pastime of golf. Characteristically Brother McShera was wholehearted in his interest in his pastime, and keen to achieve and recall his successes on the Course - which were, indeed, very creditable, although far from rivalling his prowess at his real “vocation” inside the Society of Jesus: his excellence as a cook.

Born: 29 February 1912, Aughrim Street, Stoneybatter, Dublin
Entered: 26 May 1937, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Final Vows: 15 August 1947, Sacred Heart College SJ, Limerick
Died: 09 January 2008, Cherryfield Lodge, Dublin

Part of the St Francis Xavier, Gardiner St, Dublin community at the time of death.

Transcribed HIB to ZAM: 30 July 1970; ZAM to HIB : 31 July 1982

by 1941 at Rome Italy (ROM) working at Curia

29th February 1912 Born in Dublin
Early education at CBS, St. Mary’s Place and Bolton Street Technical College
1929-1936 Worked at French Polishing
26th March 1937 Entered the Society at Emo
1st April 1939 First Vows at Emo
1939-1940 Milltown Park – Book binding and French Polishing
1940-1946 Roman Curia – Secretary
1946-1958 Crescent College, Limerick – sub-sacristan; in charge of staff and Infirmarian 15th August 1947 Final Vows at Crescent College
1958-1960 Loyola House – Provincial’s secretary
1960-1961 Manresa House – Secretary to Editor of Madonna
1961-1963 Curia Rome – Mission Secretariat
1963-1970 Zambia – Assistant Secretary : Bishop of Monze
1970 Transcribed to Zambia Province
1970-1979 Bursar – Canisius College & Community, Chikuni
1979-1984 Milltown Park – ‘Messenger’ Office administration
1982 Transcribed to Irish Province
1984-2008 St. Francis Xavier’s, Gardiner Street –
1984-1993 Bursar
1993-1995 Assistant Treasurer; House Chapel Sacristan.
1995-2002 House Chapel Sacristan
2002-2008 Cherryfield Lodge – Prayed for the Church and the Society
9th January 2008 Died at Cherryfield Lodge, Dublin.

◆ Companions in Mission 1880- Zambia-Malawi (ZAM) Obituaries :
Brother Christopher Murray, known to his fellow Jesuits as Christy, but always to his family as Kit, was born on 29 February 1912. He was always ready for a joke or wisecrack about the fact that he had a birthday only once every four years and so was still only in his 23rd year when he went to Cherryfield at the age of 90!. During that long life he was to live in close proximity to some of the great drama of the 20th century both in Ireland and in Europe. He was born about six weeks before the Titanic foundered in the Atlantic, and two years before World War 1 broke out. He was too young to join his elder brothers and sisters who walked a mile down North Circular Road from their Aughrim Street home to say the Rosary outside Mountjoy Jail as Kevin Barry was being hanged. As a boy he saw Michael Collins walk past the Christian Brothers' School beside the Black Church at the head of the funeral cortege of Arthur Griffith. A short week later he saw Collins' own funeral pass the same spot on its way to Glasnevin Cemetery.

He did his early schooling at the Christian Brothers School in St. Mary’s Place and got a two year scholarship to Bolton St. College of Technology but only stayed for one year. He worked for seven years apprenticed to a French polisher of furniture. He was an official in the Trade Unions. Those who knew him will not be surprised to know that he led at least two strikes! At the age of 27 he entered the novitiate (1937) having made what he said was a ‘mature decision’. Later his mother said she was surprised at the decision but he saw no problem once he made his mind up.

Shortly after he ended his novitiate, he was posted to Rome in 1940. While en route he had barely passed through Paris when it fell to the Germans. The day he arrived in Rome was the time Mussolini declared war. As long as he stayed in the house he was technically in the Vatican but if he walked out the front door he was in Italy! It was a difficult time since on arrival he was asked to type a letter in Latin. He had no idea of Latin and never typed in his life. However he soon mastered the necessary skills with his usual intelligence and determination. While he was in Rome the food shortages became desperately severe. The situation took such a toll on his health that he was on a milk diet for a whole year after the war ended. One thing that upset him very much afterwards was the suggestion that Pope Pius XII had abandoned the Jews to their fate during the war. He himself had run messages on behalf of the Holy Father to Jewish families in hiding around the city, bringing them food and other supplies. He rarely traveled twice by the same route lest he was under surveillance. Christy worked with Monsignor Hugh O'Flaherty, the legendary "Vatican Pimpernel" who did so much for the Jews and whose life was portrayed by Gregory Peck in a major feature film. He did two stints at Rome 1940-46 in the secretariat of the English Assistant and 1961-63 at the Mission Secretariat.

Back in Ireland he did various jobs in the Crescent both in the Church and the community from 1946 to 1958, before being appointed secretary to the Provincial from 1958 to 1960. He also worked as secretary to the editor of The Madonna from Manresa House in 1960/61.

While in Rome he volunteered for the Zambian mission and for seven years (1963-70) he was secretary to Bishop Corboy, whom he had known as a novice. These were the heady years of post-independence. At the end of his life it was these years with Bishop Corboy that always came to his mind. He then was bursar at Canisius Secondary School from 1970 to 1979.

He returned to Ireland in 1979 and worked from Milltown Park in the Messenger Office up to 1984 from where he went to Gardiner Street where he spent his remaining years (1984-2002) before he went to the Nursing Unit of Cherryfield. His work always included looking after the finances and the sacristy.

Christy was gifted with a high IQ as was evident in his ease in dealing with figures and accounts. He was widely read and well informed. This led to his holding a very definite position on a variety of matters. In any discussion it was not long before this was made clear with the words ‘the facts of the matter are’. Naturally this ensured lively and occasionally heated discussions on a variety of topics. An inveterate walker, he must have known every street in Dublin. Until he was into his 90s he did a four mile walk every Wednesday up and down the North Circular Road to visit Stephanie, his youngest sister, still living in the family home. She herself categorized him as a "man of will". We, in John Austin House, noticed his pace slacken towards the end until at last he had to give it up.

◆ Jesuits in Ireland : https://www.jesuit.ie/news/christy-murray-rip/

Christy Murray RIP
Please pray for Rev. Brother Christopher Murray, S.J. who died at Cherryfield Lodge on 9 January 2008, aged 95 years. May he rest in peace.

https://www.jesuit.ie/news/from-french-polisher-to-roman-secretary/

From French Polisher to Roman Secretary
An interview with Christy Murray on Nov, 10, 2005
First published in Interfuse
Interfuse: I was amazed when I found out that you were born in 1912 – on February 29! You are one of those special people.
Christy Murray: Yes. A birthday only every four years.
That’s why you have lived so long, probably! Sure you’re only 23 years old! 1912 – that was before the First World War. Have you any interesting memories from those early days?
I can’t really say I have. I didn’t start school until I was nine.
Was the school in Dublin?
Yes. I didn’t go to Junior School. I went to a med Miss Ryan on the Berkeley Road, and only spent a year there. Otherwise I got taught until I was nine at home. And then I went to the Christian Brothers in St. Mary’s Place near the Black Church.
How many years were you there?
All my school life – until I was 14 or 15. I did the exam for Bolton Street Tech and got a scholarship there. So I was there for a couple of years, catching up on some of the things I was short on in my education. I got a scholarship for two years, but I didn’t stay the two years. I went as an apprentice to a trade. I was a French polisher.
A French polisher! That’s very interesting.
I worked for seven or eight years at French polishing before I entered the Society.
So you were a late vocation?
Yes. I was 27 when I entered. One of the things I decided was that I must qualify in something before I enter religious life. It was a planned thing, you know, and then I was interviewed in Gardiner Street by the Provincial there. When I went to Emo I wanted to feel that, if I didn’t like what I met with there, I could go back to the trade. As well as being a qualified tradesman I was an official in the trade union.
Was Gardiner Street your church, or how did you come into contact with the Jesuits?
No, Berkeley Road was my parish church. But I went down to Gardiner Street to have an interview. Since I was thinking of entering the religious order there, I had to be interviewed by a Jesuit, so that’s what brought me to Gardiner Street.
And you met the Provincial. Who was the Provincial then?
I don’t remember. I thought at that time that it was the Superior of Gardiner Street who interviewed me.
You went to Emo in 1936, and finished your novitiate about 1939. What was your first assignment?
My first assignment was to Rome. I was sent directly to our head house in Rome. I was secretary to the Assistant General – the English assistant.
So, instead of polishing wood you were writing letters.
I had to learn to use a typewriter there. When I was sent out I hadn’t any experience of doing secretarial work. So in Rome they had to give me time to learn how to use a typewriter, and so on. I remember that well because I felt very awkward then, arriving. And, you see, I couldn’t come back from Rome because I arrived in Italy the day that country entered the war alongside Germany, so there was no question of coming back.
So you spent all the war years there. And when you went there the General was Fr. Ledochowski. He died during the war.
Yes. He died the second year I was there.
I see. And then you had Father Janssens.
That’s right.
It must have been interesting knowing both of those men. Any memories of those times?
Well, I can’t say I can remember clearly now, but the fact was that I found them both very encouraging. I was doing a type of work I had never done before and they were giving me time to get used to doing it. There were fifteen assistants – general assistants. When I arrived I didn’t know anything about typing or anything like that and they gave me time to learn it. It was a Canadian brother who taught me.
You were there till the end of the war. And then in 1946 you came back to Ireland. Had you been away all seven years without coming back?
There was no question of coming back. I was locked in Italy. I was one of the enemy, so I couldn’t travel. And, of course, there wasn’t any question of Mussolini giving permission to anybody but himself. It was a hard time, because we hadn’t enough to eat. We were living on Vatican territory. The Curia of the Jesuits was on Vatican land. When we stepped outside of the house we were in Italy, but when we were in the house we were in the Vatican. And therefore, the police couldn’t come into the house to arrest anyone. Once you stepped outside the hall door you were officially in Italy, but once you remained in the house you were a Vatican citizen.
What kind of work did you do in Ireland when you came back at the end of the war? Were you in Gardiner Street?
Yes. I was in Gardiner Street. Brother Priest was the sacristan there and I was his assistant.
Brother Priest?
That’s right. A funny name, but I found him very good. He helped me along.
You were assistant there. And did you stay in Gardiner Street for many years?
To tell you the truth, I forget.
You didn’t go to any other place? Were you in Gardiner Street for the rest of your days?
I forget the sequence, but I know I volunteered to go to Zambia.
Oh, so you went to Zambia?
Yes. It was the time that Father Corboy was made bishop. I knew him in his noviceship. Later he became Bishop Corboy. I volunteered to go because I had secretarial experience.
So you volunteered to work as secretary to Bishop Corboy.
That’s right. I spent fifteen years in Zambia with him.
And that was secretarial work, too.
Yes. I was in Rome at the time I volunteered to go to Zambia. I had a chat with the General at the time that Bishop Corboy was created bishop, and I had a chat with the General about going and joining him. He invited me to go and do the same kind of work as I had been doing.
You went back to Rome on a visit and when you were there you talked to the General about going with Bishop Corboy?
Yes. I was appointed to Rome at the time. I had been in Rome a number of years. It was my second time in Rome.
Oh, you went back a second time, after the war?
Yes. I was invited back.
That was after time as assistant sacristan in Gardiner Street?
That’s right.
That was a good few years afterwards because Bishop Corboy didn’t go until well into the 50s. You had quite a few years then in Zambia, did you?
I had fifteen years there. I got leave every five years – this is how I know. I just got leave once in five years…
Back to Dublin?
I was on my third leave back to Dublin when someone else was placed in my job.
I see. And were you then back in Gardiner Street again? You didn’t have any other assignment?
No, not that I remember.
So you’ve had a very varied career – Rome and Zambia and Ireland. And of course you came here to Cherryfield from Gardiner Street, so that was your last assignment there. And how do you find it here in Cherryfield?
The fact of the matter is that I was over 90 when I came here. Actually it was my 90th birthday the day I came in here. The 29th of February. I’ve been here over a year. I’m close to two years here.
And are you comfortable here?
In fact I’m surprised I’m so comfortable, because I had some experience of being in hospital, in care, before. I was in a ward with five or six others. Then I come here and I have my own room. This place is a great idea, I think. We’re really blessed to have this place. We’re one of the few Orders that has a good organised house for the aged.
The changes that have taken place in your time in the Society are tremendous. Especially, there were a lot more brothers when you entered.
Yes. Hadn’t got the same chances, you might say.
They had larger communities of brothers in the society.
Yes. There were a bigger number of brothers then than now. The brothers did a lot of work taking care of the houses and the farms. There were far more vocations then. In fact, it was nearly a fight to get into the Society then. Personally, I think I had an exceptionally happy time in all my years in the Society and in all the different jobs I was doing, and I got a fair amount of travel done.
Would you have a word of advice or a special message you’d like to give to the Province as you celebrate nearly 94 years?
I would like to say that they should keep the Brothers’ vocations in Ireland. They shouldn’t be sent to England. And even if they are few, they’ve a better chance of increasing their number by keeping them at home. I think that parents get preoccupied if they can’t visit them. I remember the impression I got from the first visit from my family in the novitiate in Emo. When I got talking to my mother – six people came to see me – she said that she expected to be bringing me back home, that I really wasn’t a person who was a likely Religious, and she thought she’d be taking me back home. She told me afterwards, “I didn’t expect you to be so happy; I thought you’d be coming back home, that you’d made a mistake”.
But you hadn’t made a mistake.
That’s the thing. I was thinking the opposite – that I was old enough to decide at that point in my life what my future was going to be, because I had already served my time at French polishing and as a trade union official.
You never felt like giving up. You were happy in your vocation.
I thought I was deciding when I was mature enough to decide. I felt that I had made it quite clear that I wasn’t making a mistake. I was surprised when she told me that.
That satisfaction with your vocation seems to have continued over the years.
Yes. When I was working in Rome, for example, everything went so well that I couldn’t believe it.
It’s great to be able to say in your nineties that you have no regrets about the way you chose.

◆ Fr Francis Finegan : Admissions 1859-1948 - Polisher before entry
Quite the reverse.

◆ Irish Province News
Irish Province News 15th Year No 2 1940

Milltown Park :
Rev. Fr. Assistant (P. A. Dugré) reached Dublin 21 December 1939, and stayed with until 30 January, when he left for Scotland via Belfast. He counted on reaching Rome on 1 March. He was accompanied from London by our Brother Christopher Murray who has taken up the duties of amanuensis in the Curia at 5 Borgo Santo Spirito.

◆ Interfuse

Interfuse No 135 : Spring 2008

Obituary

Br Christopher (Christy) Murray (1912-2007)

Homily preached by Barney McGuckian at the Funeral Mass at St. Francis Xavier's, Gardiner St., on Jan. 11th, 2008
On a headstone in one of the catacombs of Rome, where Brother Christopher Murray spent a number of challenging years, there is an inscription which reads “He has completed his baptism”. This short statement reveals something of how the early Christians understood Baptism. For them it was not a simple rite of passage or a brief passing ceremony. It was the first step in a process that would only end with death. Just as in show business it takes a life-time to become an over-night success, so it takes a whole life time to become a fully baptized Christian. This completion came for our Brother Christy two days ago in the Nursing Home at Cherryfield Lodge. He was holding the hand of Rachel McNeill, and, evidently, was quite conscious right up until the end. I, exceptionally, was among the concelebrants at Mass in the chapel across the corridor. As we had been told that Christy was very low, we commended his soul to the Lord. We do so again today strengthened by the encouraging text from the book of Maccabees that it is a holy and a wholesome thought to pray for the dead, including even those “who make a pious end” that they may be released from their sins. cf II Maccabees 12:43-45.

Jesus Himself was baptised in the River Jordan at the beginning of his public life as we will hear at Mass on Sunday next. But this was only the first of many Baptisms that he would undergo. When Jesus referred to Baptism he seemed to become tense. “There is a baptism I must receive, and what a constraint I am under until it is completed” (Luke, 12:50). His complete Baptism came on Calvary when he finally gave up the ghost, after taking the vinegar, surely symbolic of everything distasteful in life and bowing his head in acceptance. (Cf John 19, 29-30). As his followers, who have been baptized into Christ Jesus, as St Paul puts it, we are all called to follow a similar path.

If Brother Christopher, known to his fellow Jesuits as Christy, but always to his family as Kit, had lived until February 296 of this year he would have been 96. He was always ready for a joke or wisecrack about the fact that he was still only in his 23 year while in Cherryfield. During that long life he was to live in close proximity to some of the great drama of the 20th century both in Ireland and in Europe. He was born about six weeks before the Titanic foundered in the Atlantic, and two years before World War 1 broke out. He was too young to join his elder brothers and sisters who walked a mile down North Circular Road from their Aughrim Street home to say the Rosary outside Mountjoy Jail as Kevin Barry was being hanged. As a boy he saw Michael Collins walk past the Christian Brothers' School beside the Black Church at the head of the funeral cortege of Arthur Griffith. A short week later he saw Collins' own funeral pass the same spot on its way to Glasnevin Cemetery. Shortly after he ended his novitiate, he was posted to Rome in 1940. While en route he had barely passed through Paris when it fell to the Germans. On arrival, he was in time to see Mussolini declare war. However, when in 1963 he went to join Bishop Corboy in the Diocese of Monze in Zambia, it was to the relative stability of the newly-won independence of the country. While there he was a most conscientious worker. As assistant secretary for education at Canisius Secondary School in Chikuni, he is still remembered as someone dedicated to his work, carrying it out meticulously to the last detail.

Christy won a scholarship to Bolton Street College of Technology on leaving primary school and became a French Polisher. Many of us still remember the beautiful finish of the doors in the Chapel at Emo, a testimony to the quality of his workmanship. Before entering the Jesuits he was active in the Trade Unions. Those who knew him will not be surprised to know that he led at least two strikes! After working for seven years at his trade he decided to embrace religious life. He may have been influenced in this by the example of two of his elder sisters who had joined the Sisters of St Joseph of the Sacred Heart, and headed off for Australia and New Zealand respectively. One of them, Sister Lua is still alive at 98 in New Zealand.

Christy took his first vows on April 1st, 1939 at Emo. Realizing that he had “turned pro" that day he took the implications of what he had done with the utmost seriousness for the rest of his life. His commitment, particularly his obedience, was sorely tried very shortly afterwards. He had only arrived a few days in Rome when he was told to type an important letter in Latin. Not only did he not know the basics of Latin, he had never ever typed a word in any language in his life! The kindness of Fr, General Ledochowski, one of his great heroes, helped him survive this and other trials. While he was in Rome the food shortages became desperate. The situation took such a toll on his health that he was on a milk diet for a whole year after the war ended.

One thing that upset him very much afterwards was the suggestion that Pope Pius XII had abandoned the Jews to their fate during the war. He himself had run messages on behalf of the Holy Father to Jewish families in hiding around the city, bringing them food and other supplies. He rarely travelled twice by the same route lest he was under surveillance. Christy worked with Monsignor Hugh O'Flaherty, the legendary “Vatican Pimpernel” who did so much for the Jews and whose life was portrayed by Gregory Peck in a major feature film. Another of his friends was Mrs Thomas Kiernan, wife of the Irish Ambassador to the Holy See, better known for her renderings of "If I were a blackbird" and “The three lovely lassies from Banyon" as Delia Murphy. Her relationship with non-Nazi German officers through the Irish Embassy, the only English-speaking Embassy in Rome after the U.S. entered the war, proved a life-saver for many endangered young Italians. Christy remembered her arriving at the Borgo Santo Spirito with the gift for the starving community of a much appreciated pig in the boot of the ambassadorial car,

Christy was gifted with a high IQ. This was evident in his ease in dealing with figures and accounts. He was widely read and well informed. This led to his holding a very definite position on a variety of matters. In any discussion it was not long before this was made clear with the pronouncement “the facts of the matter are”. Naturally, this ensured lively and occasionally heated discussions on a variety of topics. However once he entered the chapel he moved into a different mode. His recollection and silence here was very evident. Most of his life in religion was spent either in finances or in the sacristy of our churches. He is still remembered with great affection in Limerick, where he was sacristan for 12 years from 1946-58.

An inveterate walker, he must have known every street in Dublin. Until he was into his 90s he did a four mile walk every Wednesday up and down the North Circular Road to visit Stephanie, his youngest sister, still living in the family home. She herself categorized him as a “man of will”. We, in John Austin House, noticed his pace slacken towards the end until he had to give it up. Shortly afterwards, we heard that he had moved to Cherryfield. He was remarkably regular in both his religious observance and his physical exercise right up until he was confined to a wheel-chair in Cherryfield.

As a disciple of Ignatius of Loyola, Christy would have learned to begin his daily prayer with the same formula; that all my intentions, actions and operations may be directed solely to the service and praise of the divine majesty. This is a prayer for holiness and one that is only fully answered at the hour of death. Indeed it could be described as a prayer for the fullness of baptism into Christ Jesus. We hope that it was fully answered for our brother Christy when the time came. Like Ignatius he was a man small in stature and, indeed, in death his features reminded me very much of the death-mask of our Holy Founder that has come down to us. As we pray today for the repose of Christy's soul there is nothing to prevent us also praying to him.

Born: 25 April 1928, Kildare Town, County Kildare
Entered: 24/ March 1952, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Final Vows: 02 February 1963, St Francis Xavier, Gardiner Street, Dublin
Died: 26 December 2011, St Vincent’s Hospital, Dublin

Part of the St Ignatius, Lower Leeson Street, Dublin community at the time of death.

by 1958 at Rome, Italy (ROM) working
by 1963 at Tullabeg making Tertianship

◆ Interfuse

Interfuse No 147 : Spring 2012

Obituary

Br Joseph (Joe) Osborne (1928-2011)

25 April 1928: Born in Co. Kildare.
Early education in CBS, Naas and Blackrock College, Dublin
1946 - 1952: Worked as jockey and horse trainer
28 March 1952: Entered the Society at Emo
29 March 1954: First Vows at Emo
1954 - 1957: Milltown Park - in charge of house and staff
1957 - 1958: Rome SJ Curia - Secretarial work
1958 - 1961: Crescent College, Limerick - Sacristan
1961 - 1966: SFX, Gardiner Street - In charge of staff
During 1962: Tullabeg - Tertianship
3rd February 1963: Final Vows St. Ignatius, Leeson Street
1966 - 1967: Galway - In charge of staff, Sacristan
1967 - 1968: Clongowes - In charge of staff
1968 - 1970: Manresa - In charge of staff; Sacristan
1970 - 1974: Crescent College, Limerick - In charge of staff: Infirmarian
1974 - 1980: John Austin House - Minister
1980 - 1982: St. Ignatius, Galway - Sacristan; Infirmarian
1982 - 1983: Belvedere College - CLC
1983 - 2011: Leeson Street - CLC
1991 - 2003: Subminister; Sacristan; CLC
2003 - 2010: Sacristan
2010 - 2011: Residing in Cherryfield
26 December 2011: Died Cherryfield

Br Osborne went to Cherryfield in 2010 when his health began to fail. He settled down well but broke his hip in a fall shortly before Christmas. He returned to Cherryfield for Christmas but got pneumonia and died on December 26th 2011, aged 83 years, in St Vincent's Hospital. May he rest in the Peace of Christ

Obituary : Paul Andrews
More than most Jesuits, Joe Osborne had to be seen in the context of his birthplace, Craddoxtown in County Kildare, where the rich soil builds the bones of great race-horses, especially hunters. Joe's father, also Joe, was a well-known and successful trainer who had won at Cheltenham, Punchestown, Naas, Leopardstown and elsewhere. As Gerry Cullen, Joe's brother-in-law put it, Joe Senior (schooled in Clongowes) was the one who must be obeyed. Joe's mother, Helen Cunningham, was a delightful lady whose brother, Professor John F. Cunningham, was a prominent gynaecologist. There were priests in her family. Joe's sister Vera married Liam Cosgrave, a former Taoiseach and good horseman.

Joe moved from primary and secondary school in Naas to Blackrock College for a couple of years, then returned to the horses. Bonnie Flanagan dedicated her book Stillorgan Again but Different to Joe. One photo shows him leading the field at Leopardstown. I quote from the “Any list of famous jockeys who rode in Leopardstown would be incomplete without the name of Joe Osborne, son of the trainer of that name, of Craddoxtown House, Co Kildare. Friend and colleague of such legendary figures as Pat Taaffe and Martin Moloney, Joe astonished the Jockey Club by his decision in 1951 to embark upon the religious life. He never rode again. Pat Taaffe said of him: 'Joe had more wins than I, but he gave it all up to enter the Jesuit Order”.

He joined the SJs at 24, having consulted his brother Paddy on the matter of what he felt was his vocation. He had made a brilliant success of his first career, but felt there was more to life than steering horses over the jumps in Punchestown. He told Paddy he was not content with his present life, and that he felt this deep call to something else. Paddy diplomatically wished him well in whichever career he chose. There were family connections with Jesuits and CWC, so the Jesuits were his choice.

He could have been a priest but preferred to become a brother. On his 70th birthday his friends put together an album on his life: “From Saddle to Sanctuary” which delighted Joe, and spoke eloquently of the affection in which he was held. You could see there the handsome young horseman, with a taste also for tennis, swimming, dancing and cards (he only played if money, not matches, were involved). In the Jesuits he gave up the saddle, but not dancing. Light-footed, with endless energy and a strong sense of rhythm, he was a superb ballroom dancer, and indulged this talent whenever the opportunity arose.

He worked in ten Jesuit Houses in Ireland, and for a short spell at our Generalate in Rome. His ministry included: Secretarial work, Charge of Staff, Infirmarian, Minister, Sacristan, CLC office work for 20 yrs. All ordinary jobs, and all done with great grace.

Brian Grogan, Joe's superior at the end, has his own treasured memories:

Visiting him in Cherryfield, I found a man lying on his back, with the TV on, rosary in his hands. I finally asked him would he like us to fix the Telly to the ceiling. What occupied his mind in his waking hours he did not say, Memories? There are the Secret Scriptures of each of us. I asked him once was he looking ahead to better things. “Begobs, yes, that's what matters!” “Joe, you'll be 7 lengths clear!” “That'll be great!” That was the beginning and end of our discussion on matters eternal! Later I discovered that Joe rarely if ever spoke about God; he lived his relationship with God, and felt that was enough.

His smile: It is there in the earliest photos, and shone out at the end. His habitually worried look would yield immediately to a great welcoming smile when you met him. There was a twinkle in his eyes. Perhaps there was little conversation but he communicated gratitude and joy that you had come along.

“He was the best of the best” – so said one of the Cherryfield staff. By which she meant his endless courtesy and appreciation of whatever was done for him. He was never demanding. Never a harsh word. 'A man of low maintenance was my term for him and he enjoyed it. As the nurse said: he did not have the illusion that he was living in the Four Seasons Hotel, he was grateful for whatever could be done for him. Now Ignatius considered ingratitude the greatest sin of all. Not to be grateful, he felt, was to miss the point of life completely. Why? Because life is a gift: people are gifts; all that is done for me is gift. Joe got full marks here, and I'm sure Ignatius must have embraced him with joy. No doubt Joe bad learnt this courtesy at home first!

Once Joe opened the door for a visitor and brought him to the parlour. The visitor remarked to the Jesuit whom he had come to see: “I have never been so graciously received as by that man! Who is he?' He had a deep sense of respect for others. He thought of them as better than himself. He saw around him “The image of God, multiplied but not monotonous” as GKC said of Francis of Assisi.

Joe would wish to apologise for any way in which he offended anyone. In tum we ask his forgiveness for any way in which we offended him. He was a loving and sensitive man. It appears that a well-intentioned but insensitive interaction with a Superior a number of years ago hurt him and diminished the joy of his later years. I know personally that Joe was a forgiving man. When he was in Vincent's, recuperating from his hip surgery two weeks ago, a nurse rang me to say that he would neither eat nor drink, nor do his physiotherapy. I went in and spoke to him on the merits of exercise if he was to get on his feet again. I obviously went on a trifle too strongly, as I discovered only later. The night before he died I asked his forgiveness for pushing him. “There's no need to worry about that now he said -- they were the last words I had with him."

His last years in Cherryfield were uneventful until a week before he died, when he broke a hip. He was discharged from hospital just before Christmas, developed pneumonia on the morning of 26h and became unconscious. He died peacefully on the evening of St Stephen's Day. A friend remembers: “I never heard him speak critically of anyone. His life seemed to be one of faith and hope and charity. He never discussed religion; he lived it. Joe, you have truly won the race that matters.'

Born: 19 August 1943, Ballyfermot, Dublin
Entered: 10 May 1964, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Final Vows: 31 May 1979, Milltown Park, Dublin
Died: 04 May 1982, Dublin

Part of Coláiste Iognáid community, Galway at time of his death.

◆ Irish Province News
Irish Province News 57th Year No 3 1983
Obituary

Br Vincent Robinson (1943-1964-1982)

My first memory of Vincent has him in a white apron wheeling a barrow full of turf along the bottom corridor in Emo: sturdy, composed, with bright and fun-loving eyes. When he entered the noviciate in Emo in 1964 he was already qualified as a gas-fitter/plumber with a London City and Guilds Intermediate and Final certificate. He made his first vows in the noviciate in 1966 and stayed on there till 1969: he subsequently had spells in Manresa, Milltown Park (for two different periods), Betagh House, Tullabeg (Tertianship). Belvedere and Galway. During most of that time he worked mainly but not exclusively (he was a man of many skills) as a plumber, servicing the demands of the particular house he was in or available to the Province at large: for some of it he did further studies at the College of Technology in Bolton street (obtaining his technician's certificate there); also some teaching in the same college. He took his final vows in May 1979; towards the end of that same year he became ill and was in and out of health, with periods of great distress, until his death this year, three years after those vows, also in the month of May. He was thirty-eight when he died.
A man of many skills and talents - to do with hands, with heart, and with head. And so the bare facts above indicate little of the great richness and vitality of his life. Vinny was an excellent craftsman and worker, who did the job not just competently and well, but with flair. This artistic side of his craftsmanship was given rein most freely in his work with silver and bronze. He took a delight in this work: I remember well in Milltown, the '70s, the relish with which he would discuss possible suitable titles for the four bronze shields which now hang on the wall outside the Milltown refectory. His skill and artistry were expressed in other ways too: in poetry, in music, in his soccer-playing and coaching. In these, as in so many other areas of his life, he demonstrated a competence, a seriousness of application and a genuine inspiration and imagination which were characteristic, and went deep. It meant that he did things well, but never in a pedestrian way: that he respected quality wherever he found it, and was dissatisfied with anything that was shoddy. He was the opposite of boring or censorious in this pursuit of excellence: a real sense of both fun and compassion ensured this.
The sense of fun was simple in the kind of surprising way that showed how deep and real it was. The joking and companionship of the lads he played within the Pioneer Soccer Club, the sing songs and yarns, the pleasure in a bit of cake, some sweets, a mineral, the calling by for a chat, the weekly cup of coffee with his mother in Bewley’s, the leg-pulling, the colloquialisms and inimitable gestures and turns of phrase: there was a simple joy in life at the heart of Vinny which made it a delight to know him. He loved the theatre, and was an acute and appreciative critic whose particular expertise lay in assessing the staging of a production: and one of my last memories of him shows that sense of fun in evidence precisely in a theatrical setting. We were at the production of The Pirates of Penzance in the Olympia after Christmas this year: Vinny had just been in hospital and was to return there before long. He loved the show, and at one particular point, as a contraption descended from the ceiling with one of the cast on it, he exploded with enjoyment and laughter to such an extent that the tears rolled down his cheeks. For minutes afterwards he laughed on: and, in as often happens on such occasions, the people all around were affected too, faces lighting up, laughing at and with him. To me it's a lovely image of the feel for life which he radiated to the many friends. from different walks of life who were so graced by his company. Not that Vinny was always laughing:. or that he was an effortlessly outgoing positive sort of person. He knew too much of struggle and conflict for this to be so, and the sense of fun and life were real precisely because they came from someone who at heart was deeply serious, and also quite shy. The effervescent front which he sometimes presented to the world did not conceal this side of Vinny from those who knew him, least of all from himself. He knew what it was to be confused, to be angry, to feel alienated, to question himself. In particular within the Society, which he loved so much, and with fellow Jesuits, for whom he had such great affection, there was nonetheless the very real difficulty of attempting to live the Brother's vocation at a time of great change: integration in this area was not easy; there was always struggle going on. Much of this was due to objective factors: but Vinny was quite aware too that his own diffidence contributed to the problem. Similarly with regard to those both inside and outside the Society whom he knew and liked well the path to intimacy was not easy: he was very sensitive, and did not find it obvious to accept that others were so pleased to be with him and to share his life. I think too that his keen intelligence, his questioning of life, his great integrity and honesty, his own strong views on many subjects were not always easy for him to live with: he mistrusted any kind of superficiality or fashion for its own sake, and sometimes this left him feeling a lack of sympathy for other positions and people which belied his more characteristic compassion. The richness and goodness of Vinny's life then were far from automatic: the great thing was that with all his complexity he did in fact come across as having a very simple love of life and people, and so many who came into contact with him sensed this, sensed that his shyness was not the last word, and responded to him with affection and gratitude. He enriched and warmed the lives of so many. He was a loving son and brother in his own family, a great friend, a most amiable companion: and his own human weaknesses, in this context, were simply a most reassuring touchstone of the reality of his love to those who were privileged enough to enjoy it.
Vinny's life then was humanly very rich: he himself however would have found such an assessment rather inadequate, perhaps beside, and certainly ' missing, the point. God was very much at the centre of his life: the ideals of the Jesuit vocation as a Brother nourished him throughout. He valued prayer, read copiously about it, practised it, treasured his relationship with the Lord. He valued deeply the often hidden life of service which he understood to be at the heart of his vocation: he was very proud to be a Brother in the Society. He lived out his vows to the utmost, conscious right to the end, and especially in the suffering of his final illness which he bore so courageously, that he was fulfilling the promise which he had made in Emo in 1966 to place himself under the standard of Christ's cross if that was the Father's plan for him. Such a strong and authentic faith was already rich in the hundredfold of God's love in this life: it is a great consolation and inspiration to those who now miss him so much - his mother Josephine, sister Maura (a nun with the Little Sisters of the Poor in France), three brothers Noel, Paddy and George, all his relations, fellow-Jesuits, many friends. We may have great hope that Vincent now enjoys the fulness of God’s love: the words of St Irenaeus seem very apt in his respect - “The glory of God is man fully alive and it is the life of man to see God”.
I’m left with a host of memories of Vinny: two stand out. One is of the emaciated figure, who had suffered so much, just days before he died, able still to smile for friends or nurses in the midst of his pain. The other, stronger, is of an exuberant, gleeful Vinny, just having scored a goal on the soccer pitch, fist raised in playful triumph, delighting in the joy of the moment, whooping exultantly to the rest of us - “No problem for this kid here!”. May he rest in peace.
Gerry O'Hanlon SJ

The Mountjoy square Pioneer Club devoted to Vincent almost a whole issue (dated 16th May) of their newsletter. In it Joe MacNamara wrote the following appreciation, slightly adapted and shortened here :
On Tuesday, 4th May, the Pioneer Club lost one of its best-loved members, Vincent Robinson. Vincent joined the club some eleven years ago, and since then contributed much not only on the committees and on the playing-fields, but generally with the jovial atmosphere which his presence brought. For Vincent, or better known to most as Robbo, was one of the characters of the club and of its football scene. For whatever he did, alone or in the midst of a group, he brought an air of lightheartedness which always went down well. He often gave a 'terrible slagging', but he also got a fair share himself!
Vincent joined the club as a player for our football teams, and played regularly for the Second team, mainly in defence. In tackling he was very strong. As the priest said at his funeral Mass, he was known to the team as the roving full back. It was very true. Vincent loved to go forward and have a go at scoring a goal. He did score now and again, and when he did, you could guarantee hearing how great a goal it was for weeks on end. He urged his team-mates on by his gentle jokes and by comments that brought the best out of them. Robbo knew the game: he had studied coaching, passed his tests, and in pre-season training made full use of what he had learned, passing it on to the players, particularly the newcomers, thus increasing their skills. He played right up the beginning of last season, and the Second team's first three games before leaving for Galway. All present at the first match will remember his goal. He kicked home a 25-yard free, so becoming the top scorer. He was thrilled over it.
At committee meetings he thought deeply on each matter and gave his view in a manner which showed this. He had to have advance notice of the agenda, so that he could study all aspects of the topic. Vincent was always looking to the future, and so he spoke about his 'visions'. One of these was the strengthening of the senior teams over the years. As it was hard to get Pioneers to play for the club, Vincent came up with the idea of catching them young, bringing them up along and then introducing them at senior level. His idea was a schoolboy team, to start at under-17 : under-18 level. Having got approval to enter a team in the schoolboy league at under-18 level, Vincent went on a search for players, as the club itself had none. : He attended schoolboy tournaments and spent his spare time watching school matches; he approached the teams, telling them about the club and its facilities, enticing them to join. As the 1980-81 season began, after his three month search for players, Pioneers were able to field a schoolboy side. The work put in by Vincent was tremendous. He himself looked after the team in the early days, but then other pressures forced him to hand over the management to others. At first the team did not achieve the best results, but most of the players were young enough for the same team again last season. With their year's experience they did well and as this was being. written were just one win away from the title. The club has reaped the benefit of those 'visions' that Vincent had. The great pity is that he passed away just a couple of weeks before the club achieved its first major honour in over eleven years, fulfilling his dream. On the to evening of the day of Vincent's death, the featured in youths were in action in his native Ballyfermot, where they recorded their biggest victory ever. When they returned to the club, news of Vincent's death had just come. Vincent was interested, not just in the football, but in the club as a whole. This can be seen by the very impressive papers he drew up for last year's club seminar. He put a lot of thought into the topic of better communications in the club, and had ideas on a change-around in structure and accommodation. At the seminar it was mainly Vincent's ideas that were discussed. All present agreed that these should be implemented in order to bring the members closer together.
It was at the funeral Mass that most members learned that they had known only a part of Vincent. He was a full-fledged plumber, having passed his London Guilds exams before he entered the Society of Jesus. He was also a silversmith, with his own registered mark, and designed various pennants and trophies. He once made the trophy for the Young Player of the Year, also a special cross and chains for the winners of the ladies' indoor football. (Another writer adds : that he was also a very useful painter, decorator and carpenter. He kept the football-room ‘in good nick'. It was typical of the man that when the room needed painting he got in there and painted it instead of talking about it.]
He had other talents. He was always having a “bash” at poetry and he was a “dab hand” on the guitar. He appeared on a number of shows; and the footballers who went on the Easter trips to Galway (1980, 1981) will never forget the songs he sang along with the rest of the lads. Those two weekends were great. Again it was Vincent who arranged it all: the rooms in the “Jes” and the food. Last year he even got a minibus to take our group out the Galway coast road, Everything had a story for Vincent: he loved telling stories, Passing a building or other place he would tell you a little story about it, going back into history. The way he told them would make anyone believe him, but I am sure some were just made up on the spur of the moment.
Vincent gave up the society of his many friends in his native Dublin and moved to Galway so that another Brother in the College there could go on the missions to Zambia. It was this unselfishness that one had to admire in him. One will always have memories of his vow-day: the joy on his face was really marvellous.

◆ The Belvederian, Dublin, 1982

Obituary

Brother Vincent Robinson SJ

Vinny came to live and work in Belvedere towards the end of his short life, (1943--1982). He had joined the Society of Jesus in 1964, already qualified as a gas-fitter and plumber, and took vows as a Brother in 1966. In the years that followed he lived in several different communities of the Society, servicing the houses of the Irish Province in his capacity as a plumber. He also did further study and eventually teaching in the College of Technology in Bolton Street.

These rather bare facts indicate little of the great richness and vitality of Vinny's life. He was an extremely talented person: skilled craftsman, artist in silver and bronze, poet, musician, gifted soccer player and coach, in all these areas he showed a faithful application and genuine flair which were characteristic of him in all other areas too. He did things well, but never in a pedestrian way: and he respected quality wherever he found it, dissatisfied with anything that was shoddy. He was the opposite of boring or censorious in this pursuit of excellence: he had a huge sense of fun and life which he radiated to the many friends from different walks of life who were so graced by his company, Not that he was an effortlessly outgoing sort of person: he knew too much of struggle and conflict for this to be so, and beneath the effervescent front which he sometimes presented to the world was quite a shy man. But he did love life and people, and others usually sensed that the shyness was not the last word, and responded to him with affection and gratitude. He enriched and warmed the lives of so many.

Vinny had just one year in Belvedere, 1980–81, when he was already suffering from the illness which would soon enough kill him. I like what was said about him as a soccer coach to the boys during that brief period: apparently, in the course of the year he won over some rather disgruntled, alienated young men to the point whereby the end of the season they were eating out of his hand. This would not be difficult to visualize for those who knew Vinny; his consummate professionalism, controlled enthusiasm, sense of humour, imagination, absolute fairness and great regard for the underdog, all these would indeed have been difficult to resist. And Vinny too by the end of that year had learned not to resist Belvedere either: he liked it there, made some good friends among community, staff and boys, and was sorry to be on his way again so soon.

His life then was humanly very rich: for Vinny himself however such a description would have fallen flat, would have missed the point. God was at the centre of his life, the ideals of the Jesuit vocation as a Brother nourished him throughout. He valued prayer, he valued the often hidden life of service that he understood to be at the heart of the Brother's vocation: and he lived out his religious Vows to the utmost, conscious right to the end, and especially in the suffering that his final illness entailed, that he was fulfilling the promise which he had made in Emo in 1966 to place his life under the standard of Christ's cross. The remark of St. Irenaeus is suitable: “The glory of God is man fully alive: and it is the life of man to see God”.

This strong faith is a great consolation to those who now mourn him: his mother, sister, three brothers, relations, fellow-Jesuits, his many other friends. It means that we're invited in the light of Christ's resurrection to hope in Vinny's new presence among us: and the memory of the unique beauty of his too-short life is a great encouragement to us to join with Vincent in anchoring our hope in the immense love of God the Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

Gerry O'Hanlon SJ

Born: 11 February 1893, Dublin City, County Dublin
Entered: 02 June 1915, St Stanislaus College, Tullabeg, County Offaly
Final Vows 02 February 1926, Rathfarnham Castle, Dublin
Died:08 August 1979, Milltown Park, Dublin

◆ Irish Province News

Irish Province News 54th Year No 3 and 4 1979

Obituary :

Br John Ronan (1893-1913-1979)

John Ronan was born in Dublin on 11 February 1893. His family had Scottish connections and John used like to take his holidays in Scotland. It may well be that it was from his father he inherited his dry wit and his gift with words. He attended National School and then a Christian Brothers school to sixth standard, and joined the novitiate at Tullabeg in the year 1913. The precise date was a subject of controversy between John and a succession of editors of the Province Catalogue: in the Catalogue he consistently appears as entering in 1915; Fathers Aubrey Gwynn and Fergal McGrath, however, recall that John was in Tullabeg in 1913; further, John's Final Vow formula is dated 2nd February 1926, which indicates that he must have taken First Vows in 1915 or early 1916.
In 1918 a young man was despatched from Tullabeg to Gardiner Street; the Minister, Father Bury, greeted the news with joy: “This is splendid: he will tempt the Fathers to eat better because of his good cooking!” John was twenty-five then, and his gift for making people happy is well attested; he was asked for by various houses, and a member of the Province who arrived in houses which Brother John had just left recalls that John was remembered with gratitude and affection. Cooks have a central place and wield great power within their domains: John cooked for his brethren for thirty years and made them happy because he was generous, painstaking and thoughtful. He worked in Gardiner Street (1918-23), Rathfarnham Castle (1923 36), Belvedere (1926-29), Clongowes (1929-31), Emo (1931-35), Mungret (1935-38), Tullabeg (1938-43), St Ignatius, Galway (1943-47), Crescent (1947-48), Clongowes again (1948-58), Manresa (1958-59) and finally Milltown Park (1959-79).
It was during the last twenty years of his life that the present writer came to know and appreciate him. He was assistant to Brother John Rogers in the bindery and ad dom. He was neat and self-contained; had a small stocky frame, large and long face, black hair, steel rimmed glasses, black chesterfield and boots which had long since seen their best days; he made an unusual figure both within and outside the house. He loved the city of Dublin and was the best known of the community on the 11 bus route; drivers used make unscheduled stops to take him aboard. They loved him more for his easy chat and good-humoured wit than for the sweets he used give them. He aged imperceptibly, for he was built of durable stuff. He seemed indestructible, as was illustrated when at the age of eighty three he came limping home after an affair with a car; he was reluctant to admit to the accident, went off to take a bath to ease his wounds and was back in action the following day. He was delightfully unpredictable in ways, and free of shyness in his relating to others. To illustrate: passing the Gas Company showrooms one day, he looked in and saw a salesgirl within who looked very gloomy. He went in: “I'd like to ask you about a gadget which you're advertising; you don't seem to have it on display”. “What is it?” she replied grumpily. “Well, you've an ad saying: Make your tea in a jiffy! I'd like to see a jiffy and know how it works!” As she tried to explain she began to smile. After a while, he said: “I know well what a jiffy is, but you look a lot happier now than when I came in!” And off he went.
John was seventy years old when Vatican II came, bringing to an end an era of stability in which regularity of practice and unswerving loyalty to authority were the characteristic of the faithful, John among them. The way was opened for new forms of religious and personal expression, with questioning and experimentation the order of the day. Like many of his generation, John found the sweeping changes in Catholic and Jesuit life hard to understand; the new forms of expression and the eclipse of the old left him confused. He was ill at ease in the new Milltown Park, and voiced his reservations with great honesty to his superiors and to the community; he was distressed that his critiques met with little effective response; he felt that a sympathetic hearing of his views was not enough. Values were at risk, as his eagle eye could see, and he loved religious life and the Province enough to do what he could to safeguard these values. Now that we as a Province are moving into calmer waters we can be grateful to John and others like him who have acted as reminders of the central qualities which must characterise any religious life worthy of the name.
Together with the difficulty he experienced in adjusting to the upheavals of aggiornamento, John went through a long period of indifferent health. For sixteen years his problem was wrongly diagnosed and treated, until finally Dr Dan Kelly brought him relief. The wit which had been so noted in him before was less evident in the latter years, though it emerged in flashes still, and brought many a smile. The younger brethren who overslept were labelled “the rising generation”; “All for me, dear Jesus!” was a remark used for a certain Father whom John thought as caring for himself a little too well. Some found it disconcerting to pass him on the corridor and half-hear a devastating remark as he shuffled away, but this may have been a device to communicate and keep in touch with those whose ways he found hard to understand. He detested beards, and persisted for quite a time with one scholastic in an anti-beard campaign until the object of his attentions asked him to ease up, whereupon to his surprise John said: “I’m only waying it because I like you”! A few years ago he fell into conversation with a lady on the front drive: he confided that he had been sent down town to buy two butterfly nets for the Rector (these were in fact intended for the removal of leaves from the swimming pool), He then launched into an incisive commentary on the Rector’s general performance, and told how the superiors of old used stay in their offices and appear mainly at mealtimes whereas the present one ... etc., etc. At the front door the lady revealed that she was the Rector's mother. Nothing daunted, he bade farewell with the remark: “See if you can't do something with him!”
Over a long lifetime John used his gifts well; he was cook, dispenser, house steward, manuductor, assistant bookbinder; he was a respected watch-mender, fiddled with radios - one of his crystal sets is still extant; he made walking sticks for those who, unlike himself, enjoyed the countryside. The present writer, more than forty years his junior, never knew him in his heyday, but considers his sixty-six years of service to the brethren a remarkable achievement worthy of the gratitude which was expressed by the wide representation of Province members at John’s requiem. What I find more remarkable, however, is the manner in which he continued his life of service to the very end. He might well have felt that by his eightieth year he had done enough, that he was no longer needed or wanted, that he could legitimately retire. Instead he took on a new role - that of postman and messenger. In finding yet one more way to serve the brethren he was typical of a great tradition of Jesuit brothers; having early on, in the words of the Kingdom exercise offered himself “entirely for the work”, he carried through to the end his promise of availability. While he was glad to have a daily task and was upset when the protracted mail-strike from February to June of this year left him with little to do, the work took its toll, and he was frequently to be seen suffering from attacks of dizziness, sitting along the corridor with his head between his hands.
What was sad in the final years was that it was hard to convince him that he was appreciated. Superiors had with doubtful wisdom allowed too much to change for him to be other than wary of well intentioned compliments. He developed the habit of blessing himself as they went by. Yet he had his friends in the community, and also among the lay-staff. He delighted in chatting with the latter and running errands for them; he continued to get cut-price cigarettes in Clery's for one woman long after she had given up smoking, for she had not the heart to tell him she no longer needed them. Moreover, he always presented the best side of community life to outsiders. I quote from a letter of his nephew: “John always spoke with great pride of your Society ... and of the wonderful work which is being done by everyone within the order”. That reticence, however, which often blocks us from speaking within the community of that pride we feel for the brethren afflicted John too. There's the story of the two scholastics who came early to supper and found John sitting down before them. “Supper doesn't begin till six!” he admonished them. “Ah”, they answered, “but we have an excuse; we're off on apostolic work. We're working for God!” “That's obvious”, said John. “If you were working for anyone else you'd have been sacked long ago!”
Of the inner life of such a man one of my generation can only guess. Surely there must have existed a deep union between God and himself to make him so consistently faithful to his religious practices, so simple and frugal in his dress and way of life, so willing to live out a life of uneventful service. He had to face the sufferings of loneliness, ill-health, confusion and perhaps even a sense of betrayal over the changes that came in the last years of his life. One thinks of the hardships of the disciple’s calling in the gospel of Luke; of Ignatius' prayer: “To give and not to count the cost”; of Hopkins sonnet on St Alphonsus Rodriguez; of K Rahner's account of the “wintry spirituality of many Jesuits”.
His death, like his life, was simple, unadorned, unromantic and without fuss. When asked about his health earlier this year, he used reply: “I'm all right, Father, you have to keep going, if you lie down they'll put you in a box?” He was moved down to the Chapel Corridor a month before he died: he had already renamed that corridor “the coffin corridor” some time before. He accepted the change with macabre humour; the door of his new room would be just the right size to get out the coffin! He sought out his friend Dr Dan Kelly at St Vincent’s, the day before he died. He knew with his quiet realism that he was dying, yet he refused to stay in hospital; he wanted to die at home. A life-long Pioneer, he took a little brandy that night; the end came peacefully about 6 am the following morning; it is hard to think that he was reluctant to go. I like to think of him now as surprised by joy at his meeting with the Lord, amazed and delighted at hearing the divine commendation for his life of service. Gone now the misunderstandings that marred the last years; if the communion of saints means anything, we at Milltown Park may confidently hope that he will keep a brotherly eye on us and on our affairs, now that he has entered into new service as God's messenger of grace to us.

A writer from the Far East would like to add the following:
A fine, warm-hearted man, whose conversation on spiritual and secular matters had the quality of suavitas. Knowing that he was from the Coombe, I associated him with a man like Dean Swift - he had that observation of people and that natural eloquence of the Dubliner. A dedicated man, he had that warm humanity so befitting a Jesuit, and which the Brothers by their prayer and simplicity have given so fully to the Society. May he pray for us to be gifted with more vocations like his

Born: 09 February 1933, 83 Lower Gardiner Street, Dublin
Entered: 22 October 1955, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Final Vows: 15 August 1966, Milltown Park, Dublin
Died: 26 July 2010, Cherryfield Lodge, Dublin

Part of the Gonzaga College, Dublin community at the time of death.

by 1959 at Rome, Italy - Sec to President of CC. M.M.

◆ Jesuits in Ireland : https://www.jesuit.ie/news/versatile-jim-2/

Versatile Jim
With the death of Brother Jim Sutton last week, the Irish Jesuits lost a quiet man of multiple talents. Born in Glasnevin, and schooled by the Christian Brothers in Scoil Mhuire,
Marino, he was bright enough to win a scholarship into the ESB. Having trained as an electrician he entered the Society at 22. That was his most familiar role in the Province: he wired, rewired, fixed and constructed and maintained plant in most of our houses, leaving a precious legacy behind him. His other talents were less well known. He ran with Donore Harriers, played brilliant hurling with St Vincent’s Club, and could bring a party to life with his banjo. In this last year he pulled himself back from a life-threatening sickness to brighten the surrounds of Cherryfield with its brilliant flower beds. He is remembered with great affection.

◆ Interfuse

Interfuse No 143 : Autumn 2010

Obituary

Br Jim Sutton (1926-2009)

9th February 1933: Born in Co. Dublin
Early education in Scoil Mhuire, Marino; Ringsend Technical College;
ESB apprentice; Qualified electrician.
22nd October 1955: Entered the Society at Emo
12th January 1958: First Vows at Emo
1958 - 1959: Curia Rome - Secretary
1959 - 1970: Milltown Park Community - Electrician, Plant maintenance
1965 - 1966: Tullabeg - Tertianship
15th August 1966: Final Vows
1970 - 1983: Manresa House - Electrician, Plant maintenance
1983 - 1997: Gonzaga Community - Consultant Electrician and Painter (Province Communities and Apostolates)
1997 - 2010: Gonzaga Community - Assisting the sick and elderly
14th October 2009: Admitted to Cherryfield Lodge
26th July 2010: Died in Cherryfield Lodge, Dublin

Myles O'Reilly writes:
It was very striking when Jim Sutton died how much he was grieved for, not only by family and friends but by the Cherryfield staff itself. A bright, intelligent, cheerful man, sparkling with life, was gone out of their lives. They had witnessed the ordeal he went through the previous 6 months with one doctor insisting that he continue to be plied with heavy doses of antibiotics to keep his knees from becoming re-infected again; and the other, his heart specialist, equally adamant that his heart and body could sustain no more antibiotics. He was between a rock and a hard place and it was only a matter of time before one would prevail over the other. During those months he was a defiant figure and a comic sight to see in a wheel chair, being pushed by Brendan Hyland and Tom-Tom around the grounds of Cherryfield, giving the orders and they digging holes and planting flowers where he wanted them planted according to his master plan! They grew the flowers from seed in Gonzaga garden and transferred them to Cherryfield when the time was right. When you go into Cherryfield grounds now, you cannot but be struck by the beauty of the flowers which are a tribute to Jim's dream garden.

Jim was born in Gardiner St., but early in his childhood his parents moved to Donnycarney, where he and his 3 elder sisters were raised. He went to Colaiste Scoil Mhuire Marino and Ringsend Tech. In his growing up years he played the banjo and sang with the “Black and White Minstrel Show” a group founded by his uncle. He loved the GAA and played in goal with the St Vincent's hurling team. He was a passionate follower of the Dublin footballers all his life and blamed their demise in recent years to their picking too many players from south of the Liffey! His father was a foreman in the docks, which gave rise to Jim wanting to be a tug-boat pilot guiding ships up the Liffey from the sea. Providentially he did not get the job on health grounds, and came to be one of two who was picked out by ESB from Ringsend Tech to become ESB apprentice electricians. This exposed him to doing a retreat in Rathfarnham Castle which in turn led to his wanting to become a Jesuit brother. He finished his training as an electrician and joined the Jesuits in 1955.

He finished his novitiate late due to a stint in hospital from a hurling injury to his knee which he acquired in the novitiate. After novitiate he was sent to Rome to be a secretary to some sodality - without any Italian, and without having ever put a page in a typewriter! A few American Jesuits there kept him sane for two difficult years. From there he was sent back to Milltown Park to be plant manager and electrician. Over the eleven years he spent there, he and Jimmy Lavin must have painted every corridor and room in the house as well as doing all the necessary electrical work. You could often hear them laughing in their practical world at us students living in our intellectual world of books scurrying to classes, puffing ourselves up with knowledge - but most of us could hardly change a plug! Next Jim was sent to Manresa for 3 years and developed the role of being electrician and painter for the whole province. This meant buying a car and hiring some lay people to do the job with him. He continued in this work throughout his Gonzaga years up to 1997 until he was forced to retire from his bad knees and other health complications.

All through all those years, Jim developed a great love of nature. He could name every tree, flower and bird. Mary Oliver's short poem said it all. “Be Attentive, Be astonished, And tell of it”. He loved to grow flowers from seed and beautify the grounds of Gonzaga and Cherryfield from the full grown flowers.

Through Br Peter Doyle, he got a great interest in fishing. Br Brendan Hyland tells a story how he and Jim went for a weekend to somewhere in the ring of Kerry to fish. They armed themselves with all the latest fishing tackle and lovely new rods, and lay them carefully out on the rocks with their packed lunches to take stock of where to first cast their rods. All of a sudden a big wave came in, swept over them and took all their gear off out to sea. Brendan shocked, looked at Jim for his reaction to their dilemma. To his surprise Jim just sat down and broke his sides laughing! He was never far from seeing the funny side of things.

Jim was inclined to quickly like or dislike people. One person he intensely disliked was Senator Norris. He and Br Hyland took a weekend off once and stayed in a B & B. To his horror, Senator Norris was staying there too. But Senator Norris's charming, witty and intelligent conversation won him over! It showed up another side to Jim; he loved a good intelligent conversation, loved people who were well informed and well-read, which he tended to be himself. Those who spent time with him outside the Society tell me that he never missed daily mass, liked to say the rosary in the car and loved to stop and pray in little well-kept country churches.

Jim loved a good joke. Even in his last 5 years, when life was just one operation after another, he kept his humour and his zest for life. Up to 4 days before he died, he was still planning how to improve the garden in Cherryfield. Most of his last 4 days were spent in a semi coma. There was one brief moment where he came out of the coma. He was awakened by the voice of Linda, the cook from Gonzaga. He opened his eyes and with a big smile gave Linda and Mary McGreer and others who were there a big hug. After that he never regained consciousness and died peacefully 2 days later. May he rest in peace.