Tribute by Fr Niall McDermott

Recently I visited Wally in the Mater He was still in the ward And I was his only visitor. To say I was shocked was putting it mildly and I was trying to make myself believe that it actually was Wally. I did not know how to introduce myself, or what to say. Eventually, I summoned up my best bedside manner and said to him “Gee Wal, You’re only half the man you used to be!” And he stared at me with a startled look on his face. And I am sure he was hovering between telling me to take a run and jump for myself! Or just being stunned into speechlessness! When he had recovered his composure he said “I suppose you are right”.

Shortly after that momentous visit I was walking in the Memorial Park opposite the boat houses on the Liffey. a place Wally had first brought me to nearly sixty years ago And many time since. The crews were out on the river Commercial Garda Trinity And of course Neptune. A sight that always stirs the sea blood I my veins. And then I saw the building works of the New Neptune extension! it will clearly be the most elegant club on the river but where was the original building?

And then I saw it dwarfed by the new structure, forlorn and shabby, shrunk to nothing, clearly destined for removal. And I thought of all the good times I personally had in it the weddings that came out of it including my own sister’s. And I thought of the story Wally told me with great glee of the time Dessie O’Sullivan refused entry to the Dubliners Ronny Drew clearly was not the right type to let into this club !

But that little tin building was so much part of Wally’s life and many other peoples’ lives too. The energy and the effort that keep it afloat; Concentrating on boats rather than fabric A formula which brought such success to the club. And as I gazed at the shrunken tin club house it too was only half the building it used to be! But then what a magnificent offspring it had produced both in terms of personnel both on the river and off and in terms of the actual new club house being built.

And it dawned on me that the insignificant little tin building was a perfect metaphor for Wally as he lay weakened in the hospital ward. What I saw on my visit was even less than half the man he used to be But that weakened, shell of a man had done so much in his life
as an Olympian sportsman
as a Brewery chemist
as a husband
as a father
as a favourite Uncle.
As a Shannon Aficionado.
He was a big man!

I am sure many of you can tell so many stories about Wally from Committee battles to unpublished charitable works. But time and time again, people who knew him said he was a truly gentle man
and liked by all. And now that the time has come for us to bury his mortal remains we comfort ourselves with the assurances of our faith.

The Sacred Reading his immediate family chose for this occasion would reflect their own faith and their affection for him. Margaret read from the Book of Wisdom a very string statement of faith in the Almighty and Merciful God “I know that my Avenger lives!”. That strong faith in God was a characteristic of Wally’s life
he didn’t wear his religion on his sleeve but you could see it in practice by the way he respected people, both young and old and especially his grandchildren.

Wally’s love and respect for people was never more in evidence than with my Aunt, Molly. Molly and Wally Or Wally and Molly brought such a glow of warmth to people when they knew they were coming along to a social event. But that warmth grew out of deep sense of love for each other which in turn lead them to a deep sense of love for God. or vice versa! That deep trust and love for God was evident in the speechless way he drew solace from the prayers said at his hospital bed; Prayers said by his family Geraldine and Der, Martin and Margaret And the grandchildren.
For someone like me with the gift for diplomacy! it truly was an inspirational sight.

And how many more lives did Wally touch at the deepest level to give them meaning? not just on the water but in their day to day lives., where they too would get a sense of that conviction: “I know that my Avenger lives!” Of course we will never know that this side of Heaven or this side of ‘My Father’s House’ - the place where there are many resting places for all sorts of strange and not so strange people. Wally’s respect for all people was but an expression of God’s love which extends to all sorts of people to whom nobody is a stranger.

When I told Wally that he was only half the man he was was not just undiplomatic but untrue. Like the club house the more it shrunk into oblivion the spirit of the man grew larger and larger. What goes on and grows on is his legacy - the root system he dug and nurtured as any of his beloved plants in his garden.

Wally is in fact, much more than the man he ever was here on earth for now in his Father’s House, where there is a special place reserved for him.

And there may he rest in peace.