The Inaugural Ned Kennedy Memorial Lecture, recently delivered by historian Turtle Bunbury, on the Irish emigrant was commemorative of our presence and contribution across the world. Not just in London, New York and Sydney as well-documented, but our political and economic service in the Caribbean, South America, our missionary work in South Africa, China, India and not forgetting our prowess on the battlefields of those nations and unique ability to fight on both sides with valour and honour. To quote from The Battle Eve of the Brigade by Thomas Davis:
“For on far foreign fields from Dunkirk to Belgrade
Lie the soldiers and chiefs of the Irish Brigade”
How appropriate that the lecture commemorated Ned Kennedy, a man who had walked The Camino de Santiago, traced in Argentina the origins of The Buenos Aires Hurling Club and, in upstate New York, thanks to his daughter’s black and amber jersey, found a nun from Balleen who had long ago departed these shores. Ned recorded the contribution of the people of the locality to The Land League; he chronicled the songs and poems of his native place, the service of those who enlisted in The Great War, the hugely researched history of coursing in Freshford, the characters and theatrical productions and revived interest in the artist, Edmund Fitzpatrick and playwright Michael Egan. Combine this with a teaching career that included Tullaroan and Freshford, secretary of the Freshford Hurling Club, a founding member of Ionad Lachtain Arts and Heritage Centre at St. Lachtain’s Church of Ireland, promoting the church as a live venue and museum while continuing in religious service. Ned worked tirelessly for Ionad Lachtain and was instrumental in the day-long release and exhibition of Lámh Lachtain from the National Museum on a great day in Achadh Úr. Ned was Chairman of the Vincent the Paul Society. He attended hurling, rugby and soccer matches but had a huge interest in every sport. He was also hugely proud to be a part of the commencement of the career of the legendary Tommy Walsh. Ask a busy man….
“ Ar scáth a chéile a mhaireann na daoine”
Ned trawled the Irish Newspaper Archives and the Kilkenny Journal Archive at Rothe House with all the zeal of an investigative journalist with an instinct that recorded for future reference even that which was irrelevant. His memory and curiosity brought him a treasure trove of information which he willingly shared with everybody. He allied this with a relaxed networking approach to all and sundry who lived through the times he was researching; he knocked on the doors of the great and the good, shared “tae” or “uisce beatha” while all the time collecting their thoughts and reminiscences and storing all in that granary that was his mind. He had a commitment to passing on history such that he would not wait for publishing a book but, whether in the hurling field or over a pint, he would, if asked, share all he knew. The easy approach that Ned used meant he was welcome in the homes of people only too willing to share their history and private archives and, under his guidance, allow these same to be published. Ned maintained that North Kilkenny alone holds enough archives and artefacts to shame The National Archives. Personal, historical, art and sporting all held and housed in loving care.
Ned Kennedy’s publishing output began at eleven or twelve with a school magazine, but his first recorded essay, ‘The Shantalla Affair’, appeared in the Mirror Magazine of St. Kieran’s College in 1970. He wrote a prize-winning essay ‘Freshford Past and Present’ in 1971 and, in 1975, he co-authored a project, ‘The History of Freshford and its Environment’ for The Royal Society of Antiquaries Sheppard Prize. As he said himself, “They didn’t write back.” He was one of the publishers of Lámh Lachtaín in the 1980s and The Freshfordian Magazine that followed in the 90s. In 1992, he published The Songs and Poems of Freshford, a wonderful collection of the verses of, among others, Doc Dermody, Tom Waldron and Jude Ryan featuring everything from ‘The Kyle Goat to My Ninth All Ireland Medal’ which was sung by Ned on state occasions. In 2001, at the invitation of the local committee, Ned edited ‘Tullaroan-Memories of the Second Millenium’. 2004 saw the publication of ‘The Land Movement in Tullaroan 1879-1891’, based on his thesis, having obtained a First Class Honours Masters Degree from Maynooth University. In collaboration with local students, he produced (2015) ‘Freshford Families in World War I’, a record of those who lived and died in service through the Great War. ‘Frigger’s Alley’ (2018) recorded for posterity the characters, quotes and stories of old Freshford along with the pantomimes, shows and musicals performed locally. ‘Slips 1920-2020 – A Hundred Years of Freshford Coursing’ (co-authored) was published featuring a painting by Edmund Fitzpatrick on the cover which, in turn, led to the publication (2022) of ‘Edmund Fitzpatrick Artist and Illustrator’ which traced the career of a man born and baptised in Freshford.
Meanwhile, Ned gave orations at Knockagress and Freshford 1916 Commemoration, painstakingly researched and with forthright delivery. He wrote eulogies and tributes and pointed other researchers to the road less travelled. Ned’s ability to grasp a topic is best illustrated by his writing of the local history of coursing despite his lack of familiarity. It brings to mind the great story that the poet, Brendan Kennelly, told of needing a grind in calculus for the Leaving Cert. He was advised that Con Houlihan gave grinds. He proceeded on his bike to Con’s home and, in Con’s absence, explained his errand to Con’s mother. She told him that Con had never done calculus but, if he left it to the following Tuesday to return, he would have studied it by then. Ned’s support for the Freshford diaspora knew no bounds. When another favourite son of the locality, Sean Campion, emerged from the Broadway Theatre where he starred in ‘Stones in his Pockets’, he was met by the friends of his youth and expressed his amazement that they also had tickets for the following night for The Tony Awards in Radio City for which Sean had been nominated. Ned told him, “when it is one of ours we are here.”
A recollection on Ned Kennedy has to include the reinforcements he could call up at a moment’s notice. Right beside him at all times was Eileen who, if a comma were missing, she added it on. Partner, proof reader, psychologist, plain speaker, team leader. Behind her was the next rank of Niamh, John, Lachtain and Éadaoin who turned out to support their adored father wherever the launch or dogfight. Their relationship was one of partners in crime and pints, travelling to sporting fixtures and any other diversion suggested. He was, of course, their rock in life, always supportive. On the day of his funeral, they, along with their next door cousins, scorned the hearse as they bore his coffin shoulder high up Kilkenny Street, handing on to their Kilkenny Street neighbours who, in turn, were replaced, for the final stretch, by representatives of the Tullaroan, Féile ‘97 winners.
Ned, of course, like his mother before him, was the generational leader of his own wider family. Raising standards, praising achievement, ignoring failure, influencing before influencers, informative and informed. WhatsApp was a pipeline of communication as Béarla agus as Gaeilge. Unassuming, honourable, he bore the stately bearing of his father as he walked in his fisherman’s cap.
Ned Cuggy
