The files of the now-defunct London financial magazine The Statist will show that its Irish correspondent, reporting Jack Lynch's succession to Sean Lemass, predicted that he would prove an "interim Taoiseach". Some time later, Mr Lynch came to London to meet British ministers. The Statist's man was standing at the door of the room in the Irish Embassy waiting for the Taoiseach to start a press conference. Mr Lynch saw him and came over to whisper in his ear: "Interim Taoiseach, indeed! I'll show you."
Although he was smiling as he spoke, there was enough of a reprimand in the remark to make me realise that there was more to him than the friendly, modest Minister I had known up to that.
Bogside riots
I saw the tougher side again on the night of August 13th 1969, when he came into RTE to make his famous speech - "can no longer stand by and see innocent people injured and perhaps worse" - in the aftermath of the Bogside riots. As I was the senior news representative on duty, it was my job to meet him and see that he had a room to work in and refreshment if he wanted it. I got him a bottle of his favourite Paddy whiskey and made sure he was comfortable. I could not help noticing that his script was badly typed, with corrections in ink scrawled all over it. I said he could not possibly go on air with a script in that state and immediately arranged to have it typed out in a large typeface with double spacing between the lines. He asked for a private telephone and I overheard him telephoning his wife, Mairin, to consult her on changes he proposed to make. At one point he asked me what I thought would happen if he were to order the Army into the North as some of his advisers counselled. I said that I thought they would get about 20 miles into Down or Derry before they would be massacred in a fight with the British. He smiled wanly at my answer and said he had come to the same conclusion himself.
I realised that important issues were at stake and about 15 minutes before he went on air I asked him if there was anything else I could do for him. He said there was: could I find out if Glen Rovers (the team he had played for in Cork) had won their game that day. I hurried to the sports room and came back with the good news that they had won. I don't know if it was this news or the stiffener of Paddy which helped him to give his speech flawlessly.
On the night of his greatest triumph in the June 1969 general election, he came into RTE to appear on the TV results programme. When it was over and I was escorting him out of the building I congratulated him on the win and said he was now in a safe position.
His answer was prophetic. "No," he said. "With a small majority your own backbenchers are too afraid of another election to challenge you. With the majority I have [it turned out to be 20] I can expect a lot of trouble."
Dubrovnik holiday
He had been several more years in office when my wife and I met him and Mairin in more pleasant circumstances than is usual in journalism. We were in Dubrovnik for a meeting of the International Institute of Communication and on the Sunday we went to Mass in the Church of Sveti Vlaho (our St Blaise) near the beautiful street which is the pride of Dubrovnik. As we waited for the service to begin I saw Jack and Mairin arrive and take their seats. When they came out after Mass, I approached Jack and, to my surprise, he visibly blanched. Immediately, Mairin moved in between us in the way she usually did to protect her husband, but he put his head round her to ask what I was doing in Dubrovnik. When I explained that I had been attending an international meeting of broadcasting people, he relaxed and promptly accepted my invitation to get together for a cup of coffee.
As we sat enjoying the sun, I told him I had seen his reaction when I accosted him and asked him the reason for it. He explained that he and Mairin had just arrived the night before to get away from it all and here was a journalist already on his trail. He was particularly worried because they had come on a British package tour andhe did not want that to be known in Ireland. I told him that I would respect his wish for privacy. Later on, when an item about his holiday appeared in an Irish paper, I wrote to assure him that I was not the source. He replied that he believed my assurance and that he knew who had provided the information.
Before we finished our coffees, Jack confided that he had a problem. President Tito had learned of his visit and had offered to put a car and driver as well as a security detail at the Taoiseach's disposal for as long as he was in Yugoslavia. Jack was disposed to thank Tito, but to turn down the offer. What did we think? I immediately said that if the boot was on the other foot and that Tito had declined the Taoiseach's offer of like facilities, what would Jack think? He saw the point and said he would agree to accept the offer for a day or two if he knew what to do about it.
I had been in Dubrovnik on a previous occasion and remembered a very pleasant lunch at an old rustic inn in the mountains behind the resort. I gave him the name and suggested they go there next day. The idea appealed to him and he agreed to the trip provided that Peggy and I came along too.
Magnificent meal
Next day we set off, Jack and Mairin in their chauffeur-driven state car, Peggy and Desmond Fisher coming behind in a smaller car driven by a security man. We climbed the mountains and reached the inn, with a trout-filled stream running through the garden and an outside fire on which sucking pigs were being roasted. We had a magnificent meal with plenty of wine and spent a very enjoyable three or four hours there. On the way back, we stopped at a little restaurant overlooking a rocky bay for a cup of tea. Drawing his attention to the view, I said to Jack that it was one of the most beautiful sights in the world. "Yes," he replied in his soft Cork drawl, "Wouldn't it remind you of Roaring Water Bay?" - the cove where he had a holiday cottage in Co Cork. As with the Glen Rovers story, he had a way of bringing things back to the places he knew and loved.