Miriam Lord: Nearly €3.5m already raised. And Charlie Bird’s not finished yet

This won’t have been the first time Charlie Bird stood in the vicinity of Merrion Street kicking up a storm about massive cheques. These ones are legit, though.

“When I worked in RTÉ I spent much of my career outside Government Buildings and Leinster House, chasing politicians up and down the street near here,” the former chief news correspondent said on Tuesday, in Merrion Square Park, pointing to that place beyond the tourists and the trees where our ruling politicians ply their trade.

That was in the swashbuckling days before Irish politics fell into a big bucket of bland and the likes of Charlie Bird were spoiled for choice with tribunals and indiscreet politicians doing stupid things after a feed of drink in the Dáil bar. He was hardly ever off the telly, relaying the latest twists with trademark high decibel urgency and large dollops of drama.

But that was then, and this was the sadly familiar now, back in those same precincts for another media gig, this time relaying his message through a voice app. But while motor neuron disease, or MND, has cruelly robbed Charlie Bird of his ability to speak, he is not voiceless. Far from it. And that flair for the dramatic hasn’t dimmed either.

Supermarket wines: Two great Italian wines to try

---

Brendan O’Connor brings his contrary streak to a cosy conversation about immigration

---

John FitzGerald: An attempt to buy the next election with a giveaway budget would be a gross miscalculation

---

US student protests: Democrats are worried this is 1968 again

---

He was in the park to present two charities with the proceeds from his hugely successful Climb with Charlie fundraiser, which came about after he was diagnosed with the devastating disease, last November. Back then he mentioned that one of the things he wanted to do before MND tightened its unforgiving grip was to climb Croagh Patrick.

Five months later, on April 2nd, throngs of people ascended Mayo’s holy reek alongside him while many thousands more, at home and abroad, climbed and walked local hills and mountains to raise money for the Irish Motor Neurone Disease Association and Pieta, the mental-health charity. It was a truly inspirational community display of friendship and generosity and a touching national gesture of solidarity with the irrepressible Mr Bird.

So how much money did he raise? Almost €3.46 million in the end, and the chief executives from both charities were in Merrion Square to pick up cheques for €1,688,000 each from the man who made it all possible.

It turned into a bit of an occasion.

The Army Band turned up to provide the music, and the Defence Forces Chief of Staff, Lt Gen Sean Clancy, came along to say a few words. (The Defence Forces helped out enormously in April.)

Sgt Maj Joe Duffy of Clontarf Barracks was master of ceremonies, and he kept the proceedings going at a jaunty clip before bombing back to the Liveline frontline. Joe had the good suit on, and it was a terrible shame that the Army wouldn’t lend him a few medals to complete the look.

A selection of Charlie’s old newsroom muckers from Montrose mustered for the morning, along with a few grizzled aul hacks from places like The Irish Times. Stories were swapped and Charlie was in the thick of it, gesturing furiously, scribbling on bits of paper, crying tears of welcome, weeping where the words wouldn’t come.

It was hard not to cry.

Sgt Major Duffy had speaking notes scribbled down on a couple of greeting cards featuring seaside scenes from Dollymount that he painted himself. He quoted lines from George Bernard Shaw, who, as the broadcaster noted, was born about a mile and a half from Merrion Square. Charlie Bird was too, but a mile and a half in the other direction.

Shaw’s words are a perfect fit for Charlie.

“You see things; and you say ‘Why?’ But I dream things that never were; and I say ‘Why not?”

“A gentleman is one who puts more into the world than he takes out.”

As the music rose in the warm air, visitors who had been caressing Oscar Wilde’s granite knees in the far corner wandered farther into the park for a closer look.

It was lovely summer scene – the military band playing and everyone determinedly in the best of good spirits at this heartbreakingly positive event.

Charlie was the final speaker, after the Chief of Staff and the chief executives, Fr Charlie McDonnell, the administrator of Westport parish in Mayo, and the renowned traditional musician Matt Molloy. Molloy said he had been talking about climbing Croagh Patrick for more than 30 years – it was on his bucket list of things to do – but he never got around to it. Then Charlie came into his Molloy’s hostelry in Westport, and within two hours he was signed up to do the climb.

He played two melodies on his blackwood flute – Easter Snow and Stormy Steps. The tourists were thrilled. They may have been intrigued by how quickly the Irish are moved to tears by beautiful music. They weren’t to know the real reason why.

“None of us knows what is around the corner for any of us,” said Charlie, through the miracle of computer software. “Last October I was diagnosed with a terminal illness, and I have had many dark days since then. But, remarkably, here, this morning, is one of the happiest days of my life.”

He had so many people and organisations to thank, not least his wife, Claire, and their beloved dog, Tiger, who has been an exceptional comfort and companion to the retired correspondent. He travels everywhere with the couple.

The well-behaved Tiger (along with a bag of liver-flavoured treats) was passed into the care of Joe Duffy for the duration of his master’s short address. Joe wasn’t taking any chances. A delighted Tiger was stuffed to the gills by the end of the speech.

After posing with the oversized display cheques, Charlie had a message for the people all over Ireland and across the world who took part in Climb for Charlie: “This is your achievement. All of you out there, this is your day. You have all shown love and kindness and have extended the hand of friendship. This is your day of celebration.”

So does it end here? Like hell it does.

In his own voice – without the breathless decibels – the iPad confirmed he does not intend going anywhere quietly if he can help it.

“So this phase of Climb with Charlie is coming to an end. But I have promised myself – as long as I am alive I will continue to extend the hand of friendship to everyone. And if my health is okay, there may be another challenge for Climb with Charlie.”

The old tenacity and cussedness of a dyed-in-the-wool news hack coming to the fore there.

The band stayed on and played some more. Rousing marching music. But where was Charlie?

He was now conducting the Band of the 2nd Brigade. With great gusto. Tons of energy still.

“I had an awful fear of dying when I was first diagnosed, but every one of you out there has helped me so much. So I now live each day. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.”

Nearly €3.5 million already raised.

And he’s not finished yet.