Sir, – One morning some time in the mid-1990s, when I was a teacher at Carndonagh Community School, Co Donegal, I was walking down a corridor in the direction of the administrative offices, when who should I see, standing alone beside a radiator, but Gerry Collins.
He had served much of the preceding 20 years in high-profile cabinet positions, making him nationally recognisable. He had been seen as a possible alternative to Charles Haughey, but had not competed against Albert Reynolds when the opportunity arose.
Far from Limerick and far from Brussels, I assumed that he was in Carndonagh on Fianna Fáil party business and was taking the time to visit the school on a courtesy call to our recently appointed principal, Brian Mullins.
I stopped and introduced myself to Collins, shook his hand and bade him welcome. We had only just begun exchanging pleasantries, when we were interrupted by the booming voice, from a closed room, of a man delegated to deliver high-decibel chastisement to teenagers.
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Almost as suddenly as it had been broken, the silence returned. We both looked aghast at the disciplinarian’s door and then we looked back at each other. Collins cocked his head and gave a playful pantomimic wink, whispering loudly: “I’d say he’s a Fine Gael man.” – Yours, etc,
PÁDRAIC HARVEY,
An Cheathrú Rua,
Co na Gaillimhe.
