TONY O'RIORDAN was a career civil servant whose favourite company was writers and intellectuals - and they, in turn, always accepted him as one of themselves. He was an integral part of the Henry Street milieu which was at its peak in the 1950s, when Radio Eireann was housed in the back labyrinths of the GPO, along with most of the Dept of Posts and Telegraphs. A walk along a few corridors, up or down a few flights of stairs, and the broadcasters and the civil servants were right inside each other's territory. Tony was a special bridge between the two worlds, since he belonged equally in both.
He was an accomplished broadcaster in his own right, but above all he was the friend, and sometimes the adviser, of many of RE's most talented figures. This was a golden era in soundbroadcasting, when the Radio Eireann Rep contained some of the finest radio actors in Europe and radio became a creative media in its own right. Sean MacReamoinn, Roibeard O Fearachain, Micheal O hAodha, Frank MacManus, Seamus Kavanagh, Ciaran Mac Mathuna were all key figures in this milieu, and one of the most gifted broadcasters and scriptwriters was Tony's own brother, Dominic. In short, the place teemed with talent and "characters".
By most accounts, Tony was an able though unorthodox civil servant, a shrewd, effective administrator, able to cut through many layered green tape, and a good handler of people and staff. He averted at least one staff strike, he helped to develop the Irish telephone service, and he even, as a junior officer, advised the all powerful Robert Brennan to broadcast a GAA final to America. As the son of a famous Kerry sporting journalist, he was deeply knowledgeable about Gaelic games, but his interest also extended to rugby and other sports.
He was also a student of history, particularly local history in which his knowledge was deep and comprehensive. A remarkably well read man, he built up an extensive library and one of the few criticisms his friends made of him was that a book loaned to him was usually a book never seen again. His selective appetite for facts and lore were demonstrated in the many book reviews he wrote for this paper and in many of his radio talks. In short, he was an all rounder of a type not uncommon in Ireland a generation ago, but virtually non existent today.
Of the four children - three daughters and a son - born to him and his wife May, no less than three became medical doctors. They did their best to palliate his final illness, which plainly he knew was mortal though he did not ask for sympathy. Up to within a few weeks of his death, he managed to attend the regular "literary" lunches which he had inaugurated with a few close friends including Benedict Kiely and Sean White. Many visiting and resident literati sat in on these, especially in the Clarence Hotel during the 1980s, and they showed that Irish conversation in the old sense was not dead.