Death of James Kelly occasion of great sorrow in Inver Parish
As the bell tolled sombrely, the coffin bearing the mortal remains of 19 year old James Kelly was slowly wheeled into St Mary’s Church, Frosses, on Thursday last by his brothers Derek, Shaun, Gary, father Daniel, mother Bridie and sister Sharon. They were followed by members of the extended Kelly and Gallagher families. Met by Fr Eamonn Kelly and Fr John McLoone PP, the choir sang ‘God our Protector’ - and the packed church stood in respect.
And then began the requiem mass to celebrate a life filled far beyond its years. Among with the chief celebrants, on the altar were Fr Martin Colum, Fr Pat Fogarty - and ranged below were many more clergy con-celebrating the requiem rites. Fr Eamonn’s homily painted a portrait in words of a young man who knew what he wanted to achieve - and focussed in accomplishing it. “In his 19 years of life, James packed in more than most people would do in 99”. Fr Eamonn stated. The priest then referred to James’ warmth of character as “Simply being himself”. Fr Kelly revealed that James was determined not to be treated as a sick person and had once told him that the tumour might be the best thing that ever happened. “Why?” asked Fr. Eamonn “because we are communicating with one another as we never communicated before”.
Fr Eamonn went through James’ exploits as a pilot, having achieved his licence on his 16th birthday for fixed-wing, and soon after for rotary.
Fr Kelly finished “all our prayers and sorrow - all this force of love, will bring James up to heaven - and Jesus will welcome him into eternal life”.
As the mass continued the local choir sang beautifully with two guest singers Robert Mizzell and John McNicholl stepping up to give renditions of the ‘The Old Rugged Cross’ and ‘Our Lady of Knock’.
Before the obsequies finished Fr John stepped up to pay a special tribute to James. ‘The longer a priest is in a parish, which he loves as I love this one, the more difficult tragic times like this are. Because over the years, the parishioners become our friends - and it is never easy laying your friends to rest - and James was a special friend of mine. When I came in contact with him, he was approximately six years old. He arrived down at the parochial house one evening and asked me would I buy a bird-feeder. The bird-feeder amounted to a pailing-post and a piece of timber one foot square nailed to the top of it. I asked him how much? and he cutely replied “whatever you think yourself”. I offered him a pound, and then I said “I suppose the post costs the most of that”. So I gave another pound and he went away home happy. A business man in the making, I thought.
“Some weeks later he arrived back and he had a cross with him - a very basic cross - two pieces of timber 2’ x 2’, nailed together at right angles. “will you buy a cross?” Now, how in God’s name could the local PP refuse to buy, above all things, a cross from a child? So we did a deal and he went home happy.
“Later he became an altar boy - and a very good one. In each group of servers there is at least one who is more alert than the rest, and James was the one in his group - the sort of youngster you could whisper to “James, I forget the large host or whatever”, and being a good listener he would get the message first time, stroll down the side aisle and arrive back with whatever I needed. He took his serving seriously and always played a blinder during Holy Week.
“While he was an altar boy, the late Monseigneur Carrabin retired back to his home place here in Frosses - and James was always available to serve his mass. He always called Monseigneur “Father Monseigneur” - and Fr Andy enjoyed his title.
“James went on to secondary school, but didn’t like it. Why? “They weren’t teaching me the things I wanted to know” - Minister of Education take note!! So he took early retirement and, having become a whiz kid on the computer, began taking flying lessons out of Sligo and qualified as the youngest pilot ever in Ireland. He was flying solo when he was too young to drive. I said to him one day, a short time before he got sick - “when are you going to take me up for a spin”? His response was - “would you chance me?” and so as not to admit my fears, I said “of course”. Sadly it wasn’t to be!
“He was an amazing youngster and an amazing teenager, and, in his sickness which he knew early on was likely to be terminal, he never was angry, he was so positive he was accepting of God’s will. He amazed and continues to amaze all of us - what a lesson from a teenager. It’s inevitable that a lot of questions go through our minds at a time like this why, God?”
Fr John concluded “James, you will remain forever young in our memories, you will never grow old - and, as we lay your body to rest and pray that your spirit is already with God, we pray also for your family and all who mourn your passing. God rest you, pilot James, it was good to have known you - even for so short a time.”
After the final obsequisies were over, the remains of James were carried by family members to the old graveyard in Frosses. Above a Cessana did a fly-past, dipping its wings in a mark of respect for the young pilot. Indeed the pilot of the plane was Gerry O’Hara, who had instructed James through his fixed-wing course. It was also the actual plane in which James qualified for his certificate.
To the family of James, parents Bridie and Dan, his brothers and sister, Derek, Sharon, Shaun and Gary, his granny, Mary Ellen, uncles, aunts, extended family and friends - we extend our sincere sympathy.
May James rest in peace!
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The Dunlevy/Cunnea Clann Reunion
Under the shadow of the Blue Stack mountains, deep in the wilds of Drimarone, sits a busy little house in Selacis, where everyone is welcome. Home to the ancestors of the Dunlevy Clan, it greeted relatives last weekend at the Dunlevy/Cunnea Family Reunion. They flew in flocks from New York, New Jersey, Brooklyn, Seattle, Washington, Florida, Canada, Buckingham, Stockport, and London, not to mention the four corners of the Emerald Isle. One thing we all had in common, however, was that we hadn’t a clue what priceless entertainment we were about to enjoy.
Opening on a spiritual note, the Reunion began with mass at the Church of the Holy Redeemer, Drimarone, followed by a healthy session of the finest music in the nearby Blue Stack Centre. Fiddles and flutes followed the box, shaping the night into a traditional Irish session of music, song and dance. As the tunes accelerated, so did the mood. Captivated by its infectiousness, limbs moved in all directions, as outsiders learned the native dances. It was ‘The Bonner Cannon School of Dancing’ however that stole the show with a performance which left the audience craving for more. They made a great impression on the younger generation. Five year old Matthew Collins followed this demonstration of jigs and reels with his interpretation of the old brush dance. An enjoyable night to say the least, wrapped up with liquid refreshments in O’Neill’s pub.
Friday morning saw a bleary-eyed crew meet at the foot of Carnaween. What a climb! We felt like ants on Everest as we crawled and puffed our way to the peak. There we dined on a well earned picnic and satirical applause welcomed our ‘mountain guides’ who managed to make it to the top of the stony peak - paddy last. We slid back down in what seemed to be seconds, saturated from head to foot in everything the mountain had to offer - but smiles of relief and a sense of accomplishment shone through.
In the Centre, another energetic night of music, led by Aidan Rooney, with an interval for a harp and pipe duet. Additional party members had joined in, which resulted in an even livelier concoction than the previous night, with the relatives from five to seventy-five bopping ‘till dropping.
Golfers arose early on the following morn for their daily fix. Noon hosted a colourful Kiddies Disco in the parish-hall and a treasure hunt - but it was the Waterbus cruise that earned the most approval. The hundred and something Dunlevys and Cunneas gathered in all their finery at the gangway of the boat, not too successfully attempting to squeeze ever so tightly into an already overflowing picture. Laughter and conversation filled the evening air as we pulled out of the harbour and drifted happily into the picturesque waters of Donegal bay.
We sang, danced to the music, enjoyed the food and Captain Billy’s commentary.
On arrival back at the pier, we split, with many availing of what the town’s nightlife had to offer, young and old alike. The legacy passed on to us by Paddy and Ambrose Ultach, Dan Cunnea and Annie Gallagher taught us “how to party” and that’s exactly what we did - until the wee hours of the morning. Not so long after, many tired feet and faces assembled for half nine mass in Drimarone.
An interesting look at our past took place at noon on Sunday with a unique slide-show. Many were delighted to see pictures of old, while others cringed on seeing younger versions of themselves. One thing for sure, some resemblances, speckled between generations, were uncanny. The hall was draped in the history of our Family Tree, each person scrambling to find their own name. The historical significance of the Dunlevy/Cunnea clan was captured in a booklet specially produced for the event - and also in a poem by Fr. Noel Burke, reflecting on life in Selacis and beyond.
One of the highlights of the day was undoubtedly the much anticipated ‘Sports Day’ held on Tymeens’s football pitch. Running on empty, line after line assembled to take part in a variety of events; egg and spoon, sack races, tug-of-war, egg throwing and two-legged races (although some managed to be twenty-two legged). As the day went on, competition thickened and it all came to a head in the final event: ‘The Mighty Duck Race’. Two hundred yellow-feathered plastic competitors got off to a slow start but, proving unfazed by the rain, they were cheered on by their managers. Intense training had taken place for weeks in advance but, in the end, Laura Kenny’s “Duck Duck Goose” won first prize. It was a tough race, with some disqualifications, including that of “Lucky Duck” whose true identity was in fact a rabbit. There is no doubt that the Sports Day exceeded itself in terms of entertainment.
Back to hall after for a scrumptious and much appreciated barbecue. It must be noted that monumental amounts of preparation went in to ensuring the success of the reunion, especially by the ladies in the kitchen whose ‘must-have accessory of the week’ became the undeniably attractive hair net. The night ended under the full moon at the Centre with top class music from Vincie Carr and Anne McGroary - whatever energy they had left was expended by those remaining.
Dispersion of guests seeped into Monday morning but not without heartfelt goodbyes. Numbers were exchanged, new found friends had been made - and old ones reunited. Anticipation of the next meet-up dominated the conversation.
The weekend of the Dunlevy/Cunnea Family Reunion was like no other and could never be repeated. It did not end on a note of sadness but of excitement and enthusiasm at the possibility of a return to Drimarone - and future gatherings. Mairead Collins
Nora Sheerin and Michael Dunlevy, members of the Clan
