Salthill

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Salthill

4 Name results for Salthill

Doyle, John A, b.1907-, former Jesuit scholastic

  • IE IJA ADMN/7/57
  • Person
  • 16 November 1907-

Born: 16 November 1907, St Bridget's Place, Lower Salthill, Galway, County Galway
Entered: 01 September 1925, St Stanislaus College, Tullabeg, County Offaly

Left Society of Jesus: 06 January 1930 (from Milltown Park)

Fitzgibbon, Daniel, 1884-1956, Jesuit priest

  • IE IJA J/154
  • Person
  • 17 September 1884-04 August 1956

Born: 17 September 1884, Limerick City, County Limerick
Entered: 07 September 1904, St Stanislaus College, Tullabeg, County Offaly
Ordained: 15 August 1919, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 02 February 1923, Mungret College SJ, Limerick
Died: 04 August 1956, Calvary Hospital, Galway

Part of the Coláiste Iognáid, Galway community at the time of death

Older brother of Michael Fitzgibbon - RIP 1973

Educated at Crescent College SJ

by 1909 at Stonyhurst England (ANG) studying
Came to Australia for Regency 1912

◆ David Strong SJ “The Australian Dictionary of Jesuit Biography 1848-2015”, 2nd Edition, Halstead Press, Ultimo NSW, Australia, 2017 - ISBN : 9781925043280
Daniel Fitzgibbon was a novice under Michael Browne in 1904. In 1911-12 he spent a year at Belvedere before being transferred to Riverview, 1912-16. Apart from teaching and prefecting, he was in charge of the chapel, and the theatre. He was known an avid Irish patriot and a student of Irish.

◆ Irish Province News
Irish Province News 31st Year No 4 1956
St. Ignatius Church and College, Galway
A short and apt account of Fr. Dan (Fitzgibbon) appeared in the Irish Times. It was from the pen of an old boy of St. Ignatius; was entitled “Sagart Mín”, and ended thus : “Ní dream iad Scoláirí Meánscoile a bhíos de shior ag moladh a gcuid múinteoirí, ach is minic agus is rí-mhinic a chualas Scoláirí i gColáiste lognáid ag rá : 'Naomh críochnaithe sea an t-Athair Mac Giobúin. Fear beanaithe gan aimhreas é.' Agus ní ag magadh a bhíodar ach oiread”.

Obituary :

Fr Dan Fitzgibbon (1884-1956)
Fr. Fitzgibbon was born at 1 Bedford Row, Limerick, on September 17th, 1884, and was educated at Mount St. Alphonsus' Redemptorist College and at the Crescent College, Limerick. He entered the Society at Tullabeg in September, 1904. After his Juniorate at Tullabeg he secured his B.A. Degree at the old Royal University of Ireland. Having studied Philosophy at Stonyhurst he was sent to Australia, where he taught at Riverview College, Sydney, until 1916, when he returned to Ireland. He studied Theology at Milltown Park and was ordained in 1919. Having completed his Theology in 1920 he spent a year at Mungret before going to Tullabeg for Tertianship, 1921-22. He then returned to Mungret for two further years. We find him at Belvedere for the year 1924-25 and at the Crescent for the next year, 1925-26. Then began his long term of fourteen years at Clongowes, where he taught successfully and produced the annual opera. In 1940 he was transferred to Galway, where he remained for the rest of his life and where he died happily in Calvary Hospital on August 4th, 1956.
If ever a man was “young of heart” it was Fr. Dan. Youthful in his enthusiasms, seeing persons and things with the fresh eye of a child, childlike in his simplicity and frankness, even to the very end ; that sums up in a few words one of whom we can say: “We shall not see his likes again”.
“Young of heart”, and well the children knew it. One of the last things he did was to bring the children of “Club na n-Og” for their annual picnic, and, as usual, he had a fine day for it. It has been known for the sun to shine, apparently “by special arrangement”, wherever Fr. Dan held his picnic, while all the rest of Galway was washed with rain. The good Lord no doubt repaid the childlike trust and the selfless devotion of an aged and delicate man to His little ones, by such privileges. For Fr. Fitzgibbon did devote himself to the little ones of Christ. Evening after evening he played away at an old piano for their dancing; year after year he prepared them for their recitations and little plays for Feis an Iarthair and An Tóstal; why, he even wrote their plays for them.
But all this was not merely amusing children. Convinced as he was that one of the greatest safeguards of their Faith was our own Irish culture. Fr. Fitzgibbon sought by these simple means to instil into these children a knowledge and love of Gaelic and the Gaelic way of life. He was as wholehearted and enthusiastic as a youth for all that was Gaelic. He had no time for pessimists and hesitaters—all that was needed was the will to win. So he went ahead, sparing nothing, sparing no one, least of all himself, in his endeavours to enlist all in the Cause. “Ar son na Cuise” - that was explanation and reason for everything, but most of all for his untiring self-sacrifice.
Fr. Fitzgibbon did not wait until he found himself in Galway to devote himself to and stir up in others, a devotion to things Gaelic. During his fourteen years in Clongowes he ceaselessly promoted the same Cause. Among his many interests was always one for drama. He was the “venerabilis inceptor” of those annual dramatic performances for which Belvedere and Clongowes have become well-known. In the days of his work as producer of plays and opera in Clongowes, no entertainment would take place unless an Irish play preceded the main item of the programme, and none finished without the enthusiastic singing of his own composed Anthem, sung in the tongue of the Gael.
All this must not let us lose sight of his priestly work. Fr. Fitzgibbon was a devoted and most kindly confessor and a greatly appreciated preacher and retreat-giver. And who would wonder at that, for few knew the human heart as he did ; and his great love for the oppressed and the troubled assured everyone of his boundless sympathy and help. "Poor so-and-so is in trouble," one often heard him say, and one knew that “so-and-so” had found his comforter and true friend. It was this same sympathy which made him such a wonderful teacher of those pupils whom no one else seemed to be very anxious to have in his class-tho' he could and did teach the brilliant brilliantly.
“Unless ye become as little children” - Fr. Dan has fulfilled the divine condition, and we know that he has gained the Kingdom promised to such.

◆ James B Stephenson SJ Menologies 1973

Father Dan Fitzgibbon 1884-1956
If ever a man kept young at heart even with advancing years it was Fr Daniel Fiztgibbon. Youthful in his enthusiasms, seeing persons and things with the fresh eye of a child, childlike in his simplicity and frankness, that sums up in a few words one of whom we can say “we shall not look upon his life again”.

Born in Limerick in 1884, he was educated at the Crescent, entering the Society in 1904.

As a priest, he spent his whole life teaching in the classroom, another of our hidden saints of the blackboard and chalk, in Mungret, Crescent, Clongowes and finally Galway. But his chief love was the children and the language of old Ireland. Year after year he prepared them for their competitions in singing and recitation. He even wrote plays for them, for he was a poet of no mean order, both in English and Irish. He was also much appreciated as a preacher and retreat giver, a most patient confessor, but his childlikeness and love of the little ones were his outstanding characteristics.

“Unless you become as a little child ye shall not enter into the Kingdom of Heaven”. This seems to have been his motto in life, and surely gave him immediate entry when he died on August 4th 1856.

◆ The Belvederian, Dublin, 1956

Obituary

Father Daniel Fitzgibbon SJ

We regret to report the death of Fr Dan Fitzgibbon SJ, who had spent a long enthusiastic life in the service of God and the education of youth. Of his fifty-two years in the Society he had spent only two years here, but his charm of personality makes him one remembered by all who knew him. May he rest in peace.

A native of Limerick, the late Fr Fitzgibbon was a noted Irish scholar, and many of his translations of Irish religious poems of the twelfth and thirteenth: centuries have been published. He was an active member of the Gaelic League, and was one of the founders of Club na n-Óg, which sponsors Irish music and dancing amongst the youth of Galway,

The late Fr Fitzgibbon was educated at Mount St Alphonsus Redemptorist College, and Crescent College, Limerick. He entered the Jesuit Novitiate in 1904, and studied at Stonyhurst College and the Royal University, Dublin, from where he graduated with a BA degree. From 1912 to 1916 he worked on the Australian Missions and, three years after his return, he was ordained at Milltown. Park. During the next year he was Editor of “The Messenger”, while attached to Belvedere College.

After some years at Mungret College, and Crescent College, he returned to Belvedere for a further year, and then spent fourteen years in Clongowes Wood College, where he produced the annual opera. He came to St Ignatius in 1940, and had remained in Galway until the time of his death.

◆ The Crescent : Limerick Jesuit Centenary Record 1859-1959

Bonum Certamen ... A Biographical Index of Former Members of the Limerick Jesuit Commnnity

Father Daniel Fitzgibbon (1884-1956)

A native of Limerick and a former pupil of the Crescent, entered the Society in 1904. After studies in Ireland and England he spent his regency in Australia. He was ordained in Dublin in 1919. Before his arrival in the Crescent in 1925, Father Fitzgibbon had been master in Mungret and Belvedere. He spent only one year in his old school. Of the remaining thirty years of his life, fourteen were spent in Clongowes and sixteen in Galway, Father Fitzgibbon was a popular master wherever he went and will long be remembered for his untiring work for the Irish language.

Lynch, Gerald, 1902-1952, Jesuit brother

  • IE IJA J/233
  • Person
  • 20 September 1902-1952

Born: 20 September 1902, Ennis, County Clare
Entered: 12 November 1928, St Stanislaus College, Tullabeg, County Offaly
Final Vows: 15 August 1939, Coláiste Iognáid, Galway
Died: 01 May 1952, St Vincent's Hospital, Dublin

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

◆ Fr Francis Finegan : Admissions 1859-1948 - School Teacher before entry

◆ Irish Province News

Irish Province News 27th Year No 3 1952

Coláiste Iognáid :
The deaths of Fr. Cyril Perrott and Brother G. Lynch, within a week of one another, on April 24th and May 1st, came as a great sorrow to us. Fr. Perrott's death, in particular, being quite unexpected. On April 22nd, he entered hospital for a duodenal operation, and, having come successfully through, as it appeared, he suddenly collapsed on the 23rd, and died the following morning. The Office and funeral, of which details appear elsewhere, were a remarkable tribute. Messages of sympathy and offerings for Mass poured into the house. The school was closed from the time we received news of his death until after the funeral. The boys gave a wreath, and each class an offering to have Mass said, whilst the entire school walked in the funeral.
Brother Lynch died in Dublin, after a long illness. His death was not unexpected, but he was sincerely mourned by the Community and the people of Galway to whom he had endeared himself by his quiet courtesy and unfailing good humour.

Obituary :
Brother Gerard Lynch
Brother Gerard Lynch was born in Ennis, Co. Clare, on September 20th, 1902. He was educated at the Christian Brothers' Schools in his native town. At that time, the Brothers were not under the National Board, and hence were free to take on suitable boys for training as teachers in their own schools. Gerard Lynch taught in this way for six years in Ennis, and when the Brothers elected to go under the National System, he was transferred to St. Mary's Industrial School, Salthill, Galway, where he taught from 1926 to 1928. It was here that he became acquainted with the Fathers of the Society, especially with Fr. William Stephenson, S.J., who was his guide and counsellor when the question of his vocation to religion arose. His characteristic unselfishness was manifested at this time by the fact that his modest savings were regularly sent to his mother.
He entered the novitiate at Tullabeg on November 12th, 1928. On taking his vows in 1931, he was sent to Manresa, Roehampton, to attend a course of training as Infirmarian in a London hospital. From 1932 to 1933 he was Infirmarian, Refectorian and Manuductor at Rathfarnham Castle, and from 1933 to 1936 held the same offices at Tullabeg. In 1936 he came to Galway as Sacristan, Infirmarian and Manuductor.
Though somewhat frail in build, Brother Lynch always enjoyed good health until Easter of last year. He then got a severe attack of influenza, from which he never completely recovered. In August, it was noticed he was losing weight, and for some months he was under the doctor's care in Galway. The cause of the trouble remained obscure, in spite of numerous X-rays and other tests. Finally, about the middle of October, he was sent to St. Vincent's Nursing Home, Dublin, where an exploratory operation revealed ulceration of the large intestine, of tuberculous origin. It was hoped that this would yield to treatment, but, in spite of every medical attention, Brother Lynch continued to grow weaker. He bore his long illness with wonderful patience and resignation, and received the Last Sacraments twice, the last time ten days before his death, which came peacefully at 6 a.m. on the morning of May 1st. The funeral took place from Gardiner St., and was attended by large numbers of the Fathers and Brothers of our houses. The remains were received on the preceding evening by Fr. T. Mulcahy, S.J., Superior of Gardiner St. The Requiem Mass was celebrated by Fr. Fergal. McGrath, S.J., Rector, St. Ignatius' Galway, and the prayers at the graveside were recited by V. Rev. J.R. MacMahon, S.J., Vice-Provincial, Fr. Provincial having just left for Rhodesia.
It is difficult to avoid superlatives in speaking of Brother Lynch, and it can truly be said of him that be was a perfect model of the Jesuit Brother. He was a most exact religious, filled with deep piety and devotion to the Blessed Sacrament, Our Lady and the Saints. Though his duties in Galway were many and exacting, he was most faithful to his religious duties, and often had to be urged to go to bed when found fulfilling some devotions that he had been unable to get in during his busy day. His charity was boundless. Anyone could go to him at any time for help, sure of being received with a cheerful smile and immediate compliance with any request. This charity was also strikingly manifested towards the faithful who frequent the church, and it was noted that his manner was as obliging and courteous to the poorest as to the most influential. He was highly efficient in his work, had a wonderful memory for detail, and took the greatest care to have the altar and its surroundings tastefully cared for. He will be long remembered in Galway, both by the Community, each member of which can recall some act of helpful kindness from him, and by the laity who saw in his untiring work and reverent devotion a living act of faith in the sacramental presence of Our Blessed Lord.

O'Connor, Seán B, 1932-1997, Jesuit priest

  • IE IJA J/577
  • Person
  • 26 May 1932-02 January 1997

Born: 26 May 1932, Dublin City, County Dublin
Entered: 07 September 1950, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 31 July 1964, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 02 February 1968, Coláiste Iognáid, Galway
Died: 02 January 1997, Dublin

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

by 1971 at Loyola Chicago, USA (CHG) studying
by 1985 at University of Warwick, England (ANG) studying

◆ Interfuse
Interfuse No 92 : August 1996

Obituary

An t-Ath Seán B. Ó Conchúir (1932-1997)

26th May 1932: Born in Dublin
Early education; St. Mary's, Athlone and St. Ignatius, Galway
7th Sept. 1950: Entered the Society at Emo
8th Sept. 1952: First Vows at Emo
1952 - 1955: Rathfarnham, Arts at UCD
1955 - 1958: Tullabeg, Studying Philosophy
1958 - 1959: Belvedere: Regency
1959 - 1961: St. Ignatius, Galway, Regency
1961 - 1965: Milltown Park, Studying Theology
31st July 1964: Ordained Priest at Milltown Park
1965 - 1966: Rathfarnham, Tertianship
1966 - 1968: St. Ignatius, Galway: Teacher and MA studies
1968 - 1970: St. Ignatius, Galway: Prefect of Studies
1970 - 1973: Chicago: Doctoral studies in Education
1973 - 1977: Crescent Residence: Director, Research Project at Shannon
1977 - 1978: Crescent Residence : Lecturer in Education at New University of Ulster
1978 - 1980: Galway: University of Ulster work and Pre school project in Irish, Connemara
1980 - 1984: Resident in Connemara: Irish Project work
1984 - 1986: Warwick University Studies
1986 - 1991: Galway: Studies in Lifestart, Gaeltacht Project
1991 - 1997: Carraroe: Director of Lifestart Project and Researcher

There’s a photo in the house of Seán’s sister Mairin, deceased, in Cork, showing four army officers. They are Seán’s grandfather, father and two brothers of his father. One of them, Uncle Patrick, was a member of Michael Collins’ ‘Twelve Apostles’. The four of them played their part in the War of Independence. Sean’s mother (Mary Harper before marriage) was a member of Cumann na mBan (Fellowship of Women) and while still a child was involved in the Easter Rebellion. Sean’s pedigree, therefore, was not so different from that of the Basque, Ignatius of Loyola; a pedigree that begot loyalty, magnanimity, a large and generous heart ready for great deeds and exploits. The Son of God chose someone of that caliber – Thomas the Zealot, and perhaps also two others – James and John, the Sons of Thunder. Would you not think that Jesus has a special feel for someone who is ready to risk their life for a cause? He himself was facing into such a future: ‘I give my life for my sheep.’

That is what I say of Seán O Conchuir of the Society of Jesus; he never slackened, when younger and also in his thirty-two years of priesthood. Always he was searching for what was ‘greater’ and ‘more perfect’ until his strength, health and his very life were spent ‘for the sheep’, and especially for the sheep in the flock of his Lord and Master. In all that work, his soldier-like qualities were patience, gentleness, love, humility and humor, a humor that he could turn on himself with a delightful explosive laugh.

Seán was committed to education (was it not so with Christ?) on every level –primary, secondary and university. He educated himself through diligent study: an MA in the sixties, a doctorate in the eighties. Curriculum development, use of statistics, evaluation of teaching programmes and progression, and of the work of students or trainee teachers; psychology and child-development—he gained a mastery and reputation in all these disciplines.

His achievement, whether in founding ‘Home Education’ and the ‘Life-start Foundation’ -- his most outstanding and effective projects--is all the more remarkable when one considers that he was struck down with rheumatic fever as a child, and was a weak boy who was wheeled along the Prom at Salthill, swathed in blankets. Thus he remained until his early teens, so he could not participate in football or rowing in Colaiste Iognaid. But he began to swim and this improved his health, as did life-saving, which was being taught by Jimmy Cranny and Des Kenny. At the end of secondary school he was strong enough to join the FCA and wear a soldier’s uniform in 1949, the year when the Republic was again proclaimed. In autumn of the following year he and Padraic Mac Donnchadha joined the Jesuit Order in Emo, Portarlington.

Seán was born in Dublin: his father, Ceannphor (Commandant) Sean Ó Conchúir, was ADC to President Sean de hIde.

The family spent a while in Athlone and the father then transferred to the Cead Cath (First Battalion), which was fully Irish, in Galway. Little Seán was sent to Scoil Fhursa, managed by Bean a’Bhreathnaigh. Scoil Fhursa and later Colaiste Iognaid planted in him a love and appreciation for Irish music, dancing and song, which lasted until the end of his life. If you heard him rendering ‘An Bhinsin Luachra’ or ‘Jimmy Mo Mhile Stor’ you would understand that love and appreciation.

The experience that Seán gained of the arts of music and acting through the Feis Cheoil, and later through the Colaiste Iognaid choir, was only an extension of his family’s gifts. There is a dynamism in the family always to celebrate life, especially through close association with nature and the practice of the arts – do you remember Seán performing a solo ballet in Tullabeg? You can see this love of life in the lives and families of his three sisters too – Mairin (the bright light of God be on her), Dairine and Grainne. A permanent feature of the home life of the O’Connors were the Sing Songs. Everyone had their own song or recitation. Any Jesuit who participated in these evenings in the O’Connor home in Galway between 1966 and 1972 will look back on them with appreciation and gratitude, and will especially remember the party-piece which Sean composed and rendered with a strong Claddagh accent. Seán’s creativity blossomed: he produced plays, composed prose pieces, and wrote poetry. One of his philosophy companions in Tullabeg baptized him as ‘The Bard’.

Frequently you would notice that Seán was absorbed in deep thought. He had a great gift of focusing entirely on a person (he was an excellent listener, full of respect for the speaker whether man, woman or child), or on an object or on scenery. To the end of his life every aspect of nature gave him joy, gladness and pleasure. Wild flowers by the roadside or the bare tops of the Beanna Beola or Snowdon would give wings to his heart. Seán steadily cultivated the spirit of the Contemplatio of the Exercises of Ignatius, especially in his final years in Connemara from 1980 onward. ‘To recognize God in all things… working on my behalf’. When I study his beautiful photos of Connemara and its flora, my heart shakes with wonder: he is a man spell-bound by the beauty of creation, a silent beauty which speaks to him of the eternal and mysterious beauty of God. And in his commitment to his calling as a wise man, a teacher and a priest, whose task was to break open and divide this bread of beauty, he spoke of it in images which would take the eye out of your head. He conveyed it to the children of ‘Home Education’ in the form of jigsaws, and in the form of poems for the grown-ups.

Lord, we live out of death;
therefore I say to the animals: ‘You who were tame and gentle
In the meadows yesterday,
You nourish what is beautiful and pure
In me today.’

And I say to the fish:
‘You who were free in the water a short while ago,
You now feed the freedom and agility of my body’.

And I say to the harvest:
'The music you played to the sun in autumn
I sense now as a poem
In the cold winter of life’.

And I say to Christ:
‘The pinnacle of goodness died in your body
But now you clothe the heavens
With white flowers’.

‘And you, Host of Christ on my lips
You are the wine of blood and the seed of flesh,
You are the honey of Easter, you are the sap of youthfulness
You are the flowering branch within me
Which does not wither.’

The beauty of that poem is awesome: it leaves me rooted to the spot. God reveals his secrets to children. I believe that in all his high learning and deep study Seán kept safe within himself the heart and pure mind of a child. It was this that gave him wonderful insight into the essential stages of a child’s development. This is why the programme ‘Home Education’ satisfies the need of children from Connemara to Ballymun, from Wexford to Derry, from Barcelona to Belfast’s Shankill.

Michael Hurley gave heartfelt witness to the reputation Seán had achieved within the various strata of the Six Counties: ‘He made it easier for us to encounter one another and forge bonds of friendship’. His close friends Dolores McGuinness and Aine Downey in Derry put it incisively: ‘There was never anyone like Sean who could move among people without causing them nervousness or fear. He was full of respect for everyone, and he listened to them with total attention.’

In his final days, on his bed of sickness and weakness, I was frequently at his side. The only syllable he could articulate was his heavy breathing, regular and low. But throughout that time he made a living prayer of his hands which were stretched out before him on the bed-clothes: thumbs joined and fingers clasped, as if he had the Body of Christ within his fingers, and Seán steadily gazing on it with the eyes of his soul, constantly focussed on it, endlessly adoring: ‘I adore you, O spirit of fruitfulness, O beautiful One of the heavenly rampart’-- a quotation from ‘Adoramus Te, Christe’ by Daibhi O Bruadair (1625 – 1698): Sean learnt it at the feet of Professor Gerard Murphy in UCD. It was he who opened up for Sean the enchanting treasury of Irish literature and folklore.

And with Gregorian chant as a lullaby, to the very end he made that mysterious sign of his priesthood and his life; offering – as a child shyly offers his little fists to its mother—his labours, sweat, joys, troubles, failures, retraining, petitions, despair, despondency, love, integrity and the achievements of the years.

May the two hands of the Child Jesus enfold you forever, Seán, while He merrily teaches you the beautiful ‘Home Education’ of his own hearth and household.

Translation Brian Grogan SJ

Interfuse No 98 : Autumn 1998

VISIONARY, YES, POLITICIAN, NO

Conall Ó Cuinn

I missed Seán O'Connor's funeral. But this article is not an obituary. It's a reflection about Seán's short time as headmaster of Coláiste Iognáid in Galway for just two academic years, 1968 and 1969, the period immediately following the Prague Spring and the Paris Student Revolution. It corresponded to my own 4th and 5th Form as a student there. I write as someone who was greatly influenced by Seán's vision for education, a catalytic factor in my joining the Society. I supported him in as much as any 4th or 5th Form student was capable of supporting a headmaster.

In Seán's time I was also privileged to be a member of the first elected school council, which, like the Sunningdale Parliament, was quickly dissolved from above after a very short life, I served as a prefect in 5th year, trying to implement what I understood as Seán's vision of pupils being creative participants in their own education. I was on the editorial team of the student newspaper whose last edition never reached the newsstands, having been confiscated by the authorities. We did manage to spirit a few copies away before the police came knocking at the door and Patrick Hume tells me there is a copy in the archives. Shortly after Paddy Tyrrell took over from Seán in 1970, I was appointed School Captain, and so had a lot of contact with staff.

In many ways, even at that time, I had “insider” knowledge of what was going on above and around me (sources remaining anonymous). However, I am aware now that I didn't really understand the complexity of what was happening politically, or how delicate and fragile the whole situation was. So naive was I, that I was greatly surprised when Seán finished as headmaster after only two years. As captain of the school, I had a lot to do with his successor, Paddy Tyrrell. Like for others enthused by Seán's vision, his removal and replacement appeared to me to be a Margaret Thatcher-style takeover intent on reversing the new social order (others would say social disorder).

I now understand better what a very difficult assignment Paddy Tyrrell had been given. Seán and he were contemporaries and friends during formation. I now appreciate how Paddy managed to preserve many of the positive elements of what we might call the O'Connor revolution. For example, neither corporal punishment nor the 11-plus type streaming into A and B classes were reintroduced. The new pupil oriented attitude continued. People remained more important than system. And further developments took place under Paddy's leadership.

Seán, like Padraig Pearse, was a great visionary, but a poor politician. Seán's studies on education had been about the Pearse educational experiment at Coláiste Eanna. Only later in both cases did their vision begin to flower into political reality. In the immediate, however, Seán failed to win over the four very difficult constituencies which he needed to engage in order to succeed. These consisted of the Jesuit Community, the Lay Staff, the Parents, and the boys (especially the senior classes).

Many of the senior boys used the elimination of corporal punishment as an excuse for license, which initially gave the school a certain chaotic appearance. In his first year, Seán had welcomed a large group of repeat, but disgruntled, 6th years back to school. In general, they proved to be a very disruptive force among the senior boys and Seán's first academic year ended with a riot on the school pitch during the taking of the school photo. This resulted in all 6th years being sent home a full week before schedule, an act just short of expulsion. While the 4th and 6th year battled it out before the assembled school, with Fr. Jack Hutchinson trying to appease both sides, the lay teachers were gathered in the corner of the field to discuss whether they should go on strike. It appeared that the educational revolution had degenerated into chaos.

Owing to the suddenness of Seán's reforms, teachers had suddenly found themselves, without any real training, invited to abandon more formal teaching methods in the junior forms. Classwork was to be organised around projects whereby the teacher's role was to serve the intellectual curiosity of the pupil by providing resources and advice about topics of the pupil's interest. With no corporal punishment as the usual backup control and with little or no focus on public examinations, some of the teachers quickly found themselves bewildered and longing for the good old days of law and order.

The Jesuit staff and community lived with two unresolved tensions. Jesuits in general were divided in their reception of the new orientations of GC31, and in Galway there was the additional division between the “Gaeilgeoirs” and the “Non-Gaeilgeoirs”. Skills of community dialogue were in their rudimentary stages. Communication still tended to move vertically between the individual and the Rector. Despite the many meetings, so difficult for those not used to them, much of the political communication was beamed from one group to the other via the Rector. Our subsequent growth in ability to dialogue can now be seen more clearly when we contrast the serene atmosphere of today's province meetings to those very first acrimonious meetings of the late 60's and early 70's.

Finally, the parents, despite the importation of some high level lecturers of Lonergan leanings from Milltown Park, found it difficult to form a vision beyond the newly introduced points system for entry to University, a system necessitated by the increased number seeking university places following the introduction of free secondary education and university grants. Many parents feared the project/pupil orientated method adopted for the 1st years would spread to all classes prompting visions of their off-spring failing to progress to third-level education. The parents, like the Jesuits, were divided into two camps. The “Jes” parents saw the school as a mini-Clongowes without the boarding fees, and the “Coláiste lognáid” parents wanted an all-Irish education. I believe this division of parental motivation is one reason why Coláiste lognáid in my time never won a football match because the pool of best players was always divided between Gaelic and Rugby which was played in a club independent of the school. With divisions like this it was difficult to work with the parents as a single group. In general, however, the parents were not convinced by what they saw as a Galway version of the Paris Revolution with its sit-ins and teach-ins which were already being picked up in the Irish universities. Our having a silhouette of Che Guevara, with a clenched fist, on the cover page of the banned magazine certainly would not have helped Seán with the parents had it been circulated!

Changing metaphors, Seán was seen as the Dubcec who had gone a step too far. The hot line to the Rector and to Eglinton Road was often engaged for long periods. Both Rector and Provincial were, as far as I understand, ideologically in tune with Seán. However, they could not ignore the persistence of representation from the unconvinced part of the Jesuit Community, and many of the lay-staff and parents. Enrolment was beginning to drop too. Seán's term would have to end prematurely, without time for the fruits to show themselves. The tanks rolled in. At least it seemed like that at the time.

It was not that Seán did not know how important it was to share his vision with the four constituencies. It seems to me, however, that he confused explanation with acceptance. He made great efforts to explain ... all those meetings after school, which went on late into the night. One man, I heard, who did not see the point of all these meetings, obediently attended but spent the time correcting his copy books. However, acceptance comes ultimately with understanding. Seán may not have realised that many of the players were not convinced enough to have a team that could pull together. In fact, the team pulled apart.

Seán himself had come back to Galway after many years of openness to new ideas, both in Dublin and in the US. A small number appreciated or understood all three strands of his vision: Gaelic, child-orientated education, and Vatican II reflected institutionally in the documents of GC31. Some accepted one, or even two of these strands. But with pressure to maintain the status quo, only a few could back Seán in all three strands. Those who were still uncomfortable on any of these three areas found themselves unable to throw themselves into the project. Intellectually, emotionally, or professionally many of the teachers were ill-equipped to deal with the changes. They reacted in different ways, some by withdrawing, some with belligerent opposition to that part which seemed to be “non-sense”, some with quiet passive resistance. Weakened by this, the rope was not strong enough to carry the experiment, unraveled, and eventually snapped.

Politically, Seán might have had a better chance of succeeding if he had taken more time to introduce his changes in a slower fashion. On the other hand, the changes were the result of an intellectual and spiritual paradigm shift: none of the individual changes he introduced would on their own have made any sense without the others, Seán had not had the backup benefits of today's Ignatian colloquium, a systematic way of engaging lay-teachers and parents, and even students, in our vision. (I regard myself as having been introduced to the Jesuit educational vision through “colloquy”). It was out of experiences such as the “Galway experiment”, that the need for such methods developed.

Finally, it seems to me that Seán did have the prophet's self immolating tendency, which we see in Pearse. Say what needs to be said, even if they don't understand. Do what needs to be done, even if they don't follow. Die on the pyre of truth, for the phoenix will rise from the ashes.

But the line between prophetic word/action and railroading is often difficult to distinguish, especially when viewed from the outside. There were 'in' and 'out' groups. Invitation and command were then often perceived, and intended, as synonyms. So there might not have been the freedom to really talk through apprehensions in order to include other wisdoms in the vision. Seán may have interpreted silence as consent, and genuine opposition as belligerence.

This article is one attempt to understand what was happening in Galway at that time. I hope it can be part of the healing process which Seán is now intimately involved with in his new position in the Communion of Saints. His vision was a major stepping stone in my own journey into the Society. It has touched many people and continues to grow and develop in them. As the woman said of her husband who had walked out on her some years previously, “he was doing the best he could”: all were doing the best they could under the circumstances.

There may still be some lessons to learn from this particular phase of the history of the Irish Province. We form one Body, where each person's contribution is vital, and no one can be left out without all suffering their absence. The spirit runs, but must carry the often, as yet, unfit body. Vision must patiently wait for the slow inertia-laden swing of tradition and habit. The body lives in and needs time.

The Galway experiment was about adapting to cultural change. Genuine dialogue and inculturation are an essential part of the quality of our apostolic living and working together, not just tools of the trade or means to an end. They are movements in the continuing act of incarnation, of the Word being made flesh, of t”he entire creation ..groaning in one great act of giving birth...all of us who possess the first fruits of the Spirit we too groan inwardly ... we too must be content to hope to be saved ... something we must wait for with patience” (Rm 8:22-25).

Seán, continue to pray for us, the pilgrim Society on earth as we continue to grow/groan “till fully grown into the Body of Christ”.