I haven’t walked around the streets of the city for about three months now. Any trip into town left me dispirited in the early days of lockdown, the grass long in the Square, the grey walls even greyer, the colour you associate with that time of year drained from everyplace. And everyone.
And when I looked through the window of Supermac’s at the seat inside, there was someone else missing. Never could I pass by, or if I popped in for a quick coffee, without the roar of ‘howya boss’. No matter who you were or what your station was in life, it was a remark that gave you a pep in your step for a bit.
To another woman I know, he always said “how’s the Duchess?” and it made her day too. He uttered these to thousands, but everyone seemed unique to the recipient. On those last days before lockdown, I had heard that Brendan Coffey was not well, and although every time he was poorly, I feared for him, I didn’t think I would never see him again. I will however, never pass that point in the square without expecting to hear his voice.
More native than the native Galwegians
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Brendan was not a native of Galway, but he will always be more native than many of those who are. He came to town and grasped the maroon flag, be it in sporting or charitable terms. He was a man who believed as we all do, that whatever is good for Galway, is good for us all. He threw himself into charity work with his trademark shame-ya-into-contributing line “don’t pass now, don’t be shy, don’t pass,” and you could never fob him off with the line that you did not have any change, because he’d remember you on the way back and ask if you had gotten change before sending you off to get it.
I can picture him in the housecoat he wore when working in Roches, with all the shopkeeping bearing off him that you’d see in Open All Hours. How sad it must have been for him to hear that Debenhams will not re-open after all of this, with some of his former colleagues affected.
Because he always worked in the heart of town, his social circle was expansive, and his place on the sidelines in Croke Park in those glory years at the end of the eighties made him familiar to everyone.
'People like Brendan, Nora Ward (Collins ), Una Taaffe, and Madame Bridget have left an indelible mark on the city. Their lives were different'
I remember him being interviewed on the breakfast show on Galway Bay fm one morning after an All-Ireland win, probably 2001, when as the only victim sober enough to be awake in CityWest, he took the opportunity to praise the GAA and the Football Board for their efforts in getting tickets for Galway fans. “They were great, they were great. They got tickets for everyone who wanted them. They even got tickets for people who had never been to a match before,” he said.
People like Brendan, Nora Ward (Collins ), Una Taaffe, and Madame Bridget have left an indelible mark on the city. Their lives were different, their backgrounds varied, yet when the social history of Galway is written, they will all have played a key role in the minds of all who shaped the city.
The west does not have many characters left. Players in the street drama. People whose life is lived in the full gaze of others, players who many of us feel we have a right to comment on. To cast an an Other, to see as different.
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The end of an era in Galway
Characters become characters because they live their lives out in the public eye. They are very much a 19th and 20th century phenomenon. Cities and towns don’t produce characters anymore; life moves too fast now; people are too self conscious to make themselves conspicuous.
The passing of Brendan brings an end to that era. In all honesty, who can we describe as a character anymore? Perhaps he is the last in Galway who will be remembered with such a label. And that in itself is a sadness.
His life was not an easy one, but he bore his crosses bravely, and used whatever ingenuity he had to ensure that good was done.
'The city will miss you Brendan. To all who loved you and knew you, our condolences. To Brendan, thank you so much for what you have done for Galway'
It is sad perhaps that a man who made a virtue out of not missing many funerals, should pass away when so few of us are allowed to go to his. But today (Thursday ), as his cortege leaves Irwin’s Funeral Home at 11 in the heart of the area that was his working home for so many years, if you are there, perhaps take some time out to line the way, or say a prayer for a man who was of Galway.
One thing is for sure, St Peter won’t be working alone at the pearly gates tonight. Beside him, there’ll be a table and a white bucket and a man with a halo saying “don’t pass, now, Boss, don’t be shy, don’t pass...” And before the week is out, St Peter will have been told many times what he’s doing wrong.
The city will miss you Brendan. To all who loved you and knew you, our condolences. Thank you so much for what you have done for Galway. You lightened the load for so many, you sat under umbrellas on wet days in the Square so that an extra few quid would go the way of a local charity. Your face was a reminder of great days on the sporting fields when the sun shone in September and when the great trophies were brought home after dark.
You were certainly a man you don’t meet every day. And the town will not be the same without you. Put in a good word for us...
