The Gazette 1988

GAZETTE

DECEMBER 1988

fell mo t i on l ess and prostrate. Oxygen was applied but it was not until a bright and alert member of our profession produced a lighted fag that Gerry eventually came round. The look on his face is not possible to describe when he realised he had just reached the half way stage. Gerry sported the logo "Blazing Saddles" on the front of his singlet. He was heard to mutter towards the end of the evening "Bleedin' Saddle". Wa t e r f o rd sent f our t r u s ty representatives along and pro- portionately they were the most r ep r e s en t a t i ve of any Bar Association. They were Frank He f f e r nan, Elizabeth Dow l i ng, Gillian Kiersey and Brian Chesser. Brian O'Mahony was the sole representative from the North- wes t. I had just arrived back in Dublin when I heard his wife Daphne was boas t i ng around Ballybofey that such was his haste to return to her that he had knocked t wo hours off his return journey to Dublin. I do not know how long it took him going to Belfast. Tony Ensor, sole representative f r om t he Sou t he rn Coun t i es, s p o r t sma n, t enn is player, marksman, once again proved his versatility and conv i v i a l i ty by entertaining the Bacon Sisters in the pub in Belfast shortly after our

Cr oss Bar Co - ope r a t i on

by Frank O'Donnell Solicitor

The south bound

road

public, gu f f aws of laughter erupted at the idea of there being members of the solicitors profession who were in need of anyone's benevolence. Lunch had been arranged at the Carrick Dale Hotel just south of Newry. It was not possible to give a definite time of arrival but I allowed a three hour spread. Everyone made it well within this time. There was however, concern exp r essed for Gerry Gr i f f i n 's whereabouts. Rumours abounded, some suges t i ng t hat he was a l r eady in Be l f as t. De f i n i te sightings had been made. Suddenly a pack appeared over the hill and there Gerry was in the middle of it being dragged along in a vacuum. He waved, shouted that now he had gotten into his stride he wasn't going to stop. Disbelief descended on an o t h e r w i se c o n c e r n ed gathering, when suddenly the pack spurted ahead leaving our Gerry weaving to his left, onto a green patch of grass where both he and the bike parted company and Gerry

to my abode

cursing last night's

booze

if / see

Dromore

once bloody more I'll blow a fee king fuse

Brendan Walsh Newry Hill, on the return journey from Belfast, is the pain-barrier of t he Ma r a -Cy c l e. Tom Flood, sporting a polka dot cycling top inscribed w i th the words " K i ng of the Moun t a i n s" was observed walking the Newry Hill by the hoards of crowds gathered to cheer us on. One of the assembled brethern was neard to shout "You're some king of the bloody mountains". That was the spur that Esmond (Easie the Eagle) Reilly needed. Comp l e te w i t h silk tie and matching hankie, he was about to dismount to join his partner but feared the retribution of the crowd and continued without setting foot to ground. So he swears. All our participants in the great trek North made it there and back. Frank Lanigan was the lucky one to come out alive. I expected an ambush in the Cooley Hills, north of Dundalk. As I cycled along, beside t wo reoslute cyclists from some- where in the midlands, one grunted to the other " They ' re not too particular who they let into this". "Wh y ' s t h a t " sais his equally phlegmatic companion. " I f I'm not mistaken, that's the Revenue Sheriff from Carlow up ahead" came the reply. " Tha t 's the so and so who lifted cattle from my aunt." " A h " responded the other as they both upped the revs per minute. There was nothing really to worry about as the Sheriff pulled away from the posse. "Ma k i ng piles for the S.B.A." was the inscription on the back of Frank Lanigan's cycle, top. When Frank explained what it meant to some inquisitive member of the

— o n t he r o ad . . .

F r ank O ' Do n n e ll

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