The sudden and untimely death of Niall Fallon has left a yawning gap in the lives of many people, family, colleagues and friends. It is a mark of the width of his interests and the high regard in which he was held that the people who mourn him come from so many diverse aspects of life, and a mark of the man himself that he will be missed so much.
It is impossible to write about Niall without placing him among that remarkable band of brothers, the six sons of the poet Padraic Fallon, who meant so much to him. (It was a cruel fate that two of them, Niall and his eldest brother Garry were to die almost within a week of each other.) Like them all he was formidably well read, knowledgeable about the arts and about all sorts of little known corners of life. Like his brothers, too, he was very much his own man, with little time for what happened to be currently fashionable views. He had a great sense of humour, coupled with a healthy cynicism (in the best sense) which stood him in good stead, particularly in the daily crises which putting out a newspaper involves. He was an outstanding assistant editor of The Irish Times and could have gone on to other senior positions in journalism if he had so wished. Most of his work was done on the production side of newspapers, but when he did choose to write he showed that in that field too he was greatly talented - one particularly remembers an account of a foray he made across the Thai border into the killing fields of the Khmer Rouge in Cambodia.
In the last few years, however, he decided to step back from daily journalism and involve himself in other areas. He continued to write his Fine Arts column for this paper and had a considerable expertise in the world of antiques. He was an enthusiast for country life and a formidable fisherman - his book on the topic, Fly Fishing for Irish Trout is regarded as the definitive work on the subject. He was also a historian of great merit, with another book of weight to his credit in The Armada in Ireland. Sadly, we will not now see what was to be his next book, on the sinking of the Lusitania.
His wife, Patricia, and his children are living reminders of his worth as a husband and father. They, his brothers and his many friends will miss him more than they can adequately say, but will find some consolation from their memories of his good, well rounded life.