A sense of great sadness has overtaken the writer of these notes. The blow fell suddenly during the last meeting of the Corporation. The gallery was almost empty, with only Mr John McNamara of Shelbourne and myself as representative figures in attendance. The debate was lengthy and occasionally tempestuous, but it eventually passed. Mr Hassett’s motion to hold meetings at 4 pm instead of 7.30 pm (old style) was narrowly defeated. This decision has deprived the people of Limerick’s East End of a rational means of recreation after the Treaty Stone View Park has closed.
However, the most significant event was Alderman Daly’s resignation from the Council. The scene was dramatic, with the Alderman stating that, although attending 4 o’clock meetings would not be a sacrifice for him, as he could take a half-day off without cost, he would resign in loyalty to the Labour Party’s pledge when the people were deprived of the opportunity to listen to debates.
The Alderman seized his hat and his pipe and began to walk towards the Council Chamber’s door. However, he was stopped halfway by Councillor Kerr’s appeal to reconsider his decision. The Councillor expressed deep regret at the potential absence of the Alderman, saying, “I am sure we will all regret your absence very much.”
This moment gave me hope, but it was short-lived. The Alderman stopped, turned on his heel, and stroking his whiskers, declared, “I’ve said all I wanted to say and want no fulsome flattery. I’ll come back some other time, and meet ‘Common Councillor’ Slattery and all the other flunkies who’re there. I swear that I’ll give the run to him, and that Alderman up in the chair, I’ll grass him as sure as a gun, too. But for me, he would never be so high. I raised him up to that level, but packing will send him by and by to obscurity or to the—”
At this point, the Alderman was interrupted, and he turned and walked through the door, followed by a “next business” agenda item, bringing an end to the storm.
In reality, I have lost the best source of material for “copy.” What will the Corporation be without Alderman Daly? There is no orator to replace him. While Councillor Lony may uphold his views in speeches, he lacks the unyielding quality that Alderman Daly possessed. Councillor Stokes may continue to describe oratorical circles, but he lacks the infectious smile. Councillor Peacocke, though naturally eloquent yet somewhat shy, could not fill the void. Even the namesake of the great impeacher of Warren Hastings, with his extravagant metaphors, cannot replace the Alderman. There are other members who can inject “spirit” into their words, but none can match the departed Alderman’s presence. Despite the occasional dullness of his speeches, the “Alderman from Thomondgate” holds a unique position.
Family affection sometimes manifests itself in “salt tears” on emotional occasions, but the act of kissing rock salt is a novel expression of this noble human emotion. Such an incident occurred in the last place one would expect— at the Exhibition! The gentleman who performed this unusual act discovered some specimens of rock salt from his father’s salt mine in the North among the exhibits. He explained, “I was so moved by the discovery that I went right up and kissed it.” When I jokingly suggested that he should “wet his lips” afterward, he paid no attention and likened his action to mooring his boat to Temperance Rock. Indeed, there are many things to kiss at the Exhibition besides rock salt, but it can be a serious matter at times!
Limerick Echo – Tuesday 07 August 1906
