[ad_1]
When Donal Musgrave, who died on Midsummer’s night at 78 after a long and difficult illness, began his career in journalism, John F. Kennedy’s Camelot was in his pomp.
Hope was in the air and not just in the United States. When Donal finally walked away from his keyboard a few years ago, Donald Trump’s Mar-a-Lago had replaced Kennedy’s Camelot. Donal, an eternal optimist, would point out, however, that hope has been renewed as Joe Biden will be president of the United States in a few weeks.
In his many decades as a working journalist, Donal would have viewed that longevity as a happy circumstance rather than an achievement, he reported a great change in almost every aspect of society. When he began writing for The Catholic Herald, Ireland was a poor, insular, agrarian, and half-educated country.
The contribution he and his peers made should not be underestimated by inciting, comparing, looking beyond the local council chamber, constantly asking why things couldn’t be better, and refusing to take off the old lady’s hat. and authoritarian Ireland. for those who enjoy a very different Ireland today.
The great social change and the new tolerance and inclusion did not happen by accident, they were driven by people like Donal Musgrave. Yet it’s a sobering reminder of how difficult that change can be to achieve that Donal’s first big project as a journalist, reporting on a week living on the streets of 1960s London, may be even more relevant today than it was then.
That commitment to social justice was not, as it often is for ambitious young journalists, a fad early in Donal’s career. His commitment to ending disadvantages informed all his work with The Irish Press in London, as a correspondent for The Irish Times in Munster, the Sunday Tribune and, as it was when he joined it, The Cork Examiner and later The Examiner. and The Irish Examiner. .
In fact, some of his latest articles for this newspaper read as though they were written by an idealistic young man rather than a mature, urban, experienced commentator. He was equally passionate in his relentless opposition to violence.
He, like many of his colleagues who saw terrorism firsthand, reserved a particular bile for those who today will rewrite history. A committed and practical European, he celebrated Ireland’s accession to the EEC. Likewise, he was disheartened by Brexit and the nativism that sustained it.
Donal was the second of two children born to Máiréad (née Foley) and Harry Musgrave, of Newcastle West, Co Limerick. After his father’s death, when he was only three months old, Donal’s mother returned to An Rinn, Co Waterford, to live with two sisters and their mother. Donal was a student at Blackrock College (his mother worked in England to finance his education) Coláiste na Rinne and later Maynooth, but his days at Waterford were formative.
One legacy was his interest in Irish, which he used lightly. Occasionally he surfaced when he gently corrected his fellow fishermen’s mispronunciation of the names of the rivers and ponds in his beloved Mayo waters, who fished for salmon each year. Sharing those trips to Bangor Erris with his beloved Shirley and their son Darragh was one of the great pleasures of his life.
In fact, salmon, as it often is, was instrumental in shaping he and Shirley’s 53 years together. Donal married Shirley Tait in London in November 1967. They soon moved to Dublin but, as he later wrote, his dream was to buy a riverside cottage a quarter of an hour from a city that could provide employment.
That ambition led them to Cork in 1969 when they bought a house in Inniscarra, where they created the most magnificent garden on the banks of the Lee. In that garden, Donal had a table made with a stone top that came from the sculptor Seamus Murphy’s studio, The Scullery, in Cork’s Blackpool. “It’s from the straight Seamus days,” he used to laugh with an equally serious face.
This, and his extensive record collection, offered a glimpse into another side of his life, one deeply interested in culture and the arts. Those interests included golf, he was a member of Muskerry GC, although he was more of a club golfer than a competitive one.
That move south was auspicious in many ways but, in an unexpected and appreciated way, it has left a legacy that runs through Irish journalism to this day. Donal was an excellent reporter, analyst, lead writer, and longtime news editor, but he made his deepest mark as a mentor.
His calm wisdom, limitless understanding and encouragement rescued many rookies in distress. His reassuring and encouraging voice helped generation after generation find their feet in what can be an isolated business.
One of the people she influenced, during her time with The Cork Examiner, was Geraldine Kennedy, who became the first woman to be an editor at The Irish Times.
“Donal was very cheering for me in my early years at The Cork Examiner,” Kennedy said in recent days. “I must have been in my 20s … I would never have become editor of The Irish Times without his personal interest in my work. I am very glad I wrote to say that when I became editor in 2002. “
Tim Vaughan, former editor of The Irish Examiner, was equally eloquent: “Donal was exceptional, period.
Brilliant, erudite, cultured, wise, and great company. He was also absolutely charming, and an incorrigible rogue, with those mischievous, dancing eyes.
“His sense of the news was sharp, of course, but his legacy will be the encouragement that he so generously gave to many young reporters, always inspiring them to do better.”
Those views were widely and sincerely reflected by many of those fortunate to have met him in recent days. President Michael D Higgins echoed them when he said that Donal was “recognized as a mentor to many in journalism, he will be remembered for a professionalism that included kindness and deep concern for the subjects he reported on.”
Donal spent the last period of his life in St Luke’s nursing home, where due to the restrictions of the pandemic, his family and friends were unable to visit him as often as they or he would have liked. Like so many others in that position, it was a particular ordeal, especially for someone so animated by nature and outdoor life, a characteristic that becomes real even with his passing.
He, even in the smallest of spaces, had the long, elongated stride of a man who wishes to reach the next horizon.
Just over three years ago, in May 2017, he recognized that the onset of Parkinson’s disease was changing his life. That discovery offered one last chance to guide those around him.
He met his final difficulties with the great courage, tremendous dignity, and utter absence of self-pity that had defined his life and work. A life well lived, a well recognized and appreciated legacy.
Donal is survived by his wife Shirley, children Katie and Darragh, son-in-law Paul Galligan, daughter-in-law Emer Maher, and five grandchildren: Oisín, Ronan, Fionn, Aaron, and Cian.
– Jack Power
[ad_2]