FATHER FRANK’S LOG: 13th – 20th OCTOBER 2024
At the beginning of this month, I heard of the death of a fine lady called Mary O’Rourke, who had been a very prominent politician in Ireland, holding a whole host of portfolios from the early eighties into the late noughties. It brought back a memory from my earliest years as Rector and Parish Priest of Mount Argus in Dublin. Sometime during 2001, my first year in office, I began writing articles for the parish bulletin each week which, I suppose, were the forerunner to what is now called Father Frank’s Log. Sometimes, then as now, I was really scratching around for something to write about, and on one occasion, I think early in 2002, I built an article around an experience in Dublin City Centre when I had been in town collecting holy stuff from Veritas, the Catholic Bookshop in Dublin, and was heading back to Mount Argus to celebrate the Evening Mass. I ended up in a bit of a panic as, after about an hour and a half, I was still standing at the stop, waiting for a bus that should have been part of a regular 15-minute service. Of course, in keeping with the old cliché, but absolutely true nonetheless, when the bus did arrive, there were at least two more arriving at the same time.
I can’t remember now the gist of the article I wrote, except that it was accompanied by a cartoon of a skeleton standing at a bus stop, but after writing it I thought no more about it. Then, however, just a few weeks later, I received a letter from the aforesaid Mary O’Rourke, who at the time was Minister for Public Enterprise, which included the transport portfolio. My article would certainly have been tongue-in-cheek, and mildly humorous, as they usually were, seeking to find God in the mundane and ordinary events of life. But apparently, an elderly parishioner had taken it seriously, and had written an irate letter to the Minister for Transport, i.e. Mary O’Rourke, complaining profusely that the Rector and Parish Priest of Mount Argus should have had to wait an hour and a half for a bus. Perhaps, at that time, the Rector and Parish Priest of Mount Argus would have been held in some esteem, although that would certainly not be the case now in secular Ireland. I then received a very polite and respectful letter from Mary O’Rourke herself, referring to the complaint, and apologising to me profusely, with the expressed hope that I would not have to endure such a long wait ever again. My suspicion was that Mary O’Rourke’s letter was slightly tongue-in-cheek too, and that she understood very well the dynamic that had occurred, being used to receiving all kinds of letters from all kinds of people. Either way, I wrote back, thanked her for her kind concern, and explained the light-hearted nature of the article I had written. I kept her letter as a memento for a long time afterwards, but I don’t have it any more. May she rest in peace.
Letters, in general, have been a bit of a problem in St Mungo’s recently, as we haven’t been receiving any mail through the letter box for a few weeks now. After a period of patient, hopeful, but forlorn waiting, I phoned Royal Mail and was informed that there was a problem with sickness and absence in our local area. I was told that, given the legal obligation on their part to have our mail delivered, we would receive any outstanding post within three working days. In the meantime, however, Father Gareth went over early one morning to the sorting office and was presented with a big pile of accumulated post waiting for us. He, too, was informed that there were simply no postmen, or postwomen available, and asked Father Gareth if he would like a job. Father Gareth declined, although I imagine that he would make a good, jolly postie, traipsing the streets of Townhead with a sack on his back, like a Royal Mail version of Santa Clause. We could get him a sleigh instead of a van. Unfortunately, we haven’t received another scrap of post since, and I imagine we will need to go over to the sorting office again. So, if any parishioner knows who the government minister responsible for the Post Office is, please feel free to write a letter on my behalf, as it’s a bit frustrating.
As ever, protect yourself, your loved ones and others, and protect Christ in your lives.
At the beginning of this month, I heard of the death of a fine lady called Mary O’Rourke, who had been a very prominent politician in Ireland, holding a whole host of portfolios from the early eighties into the late noughties. It brought back a memory from my earliest years as Rector and Parish Priest of Mount Argus in Dublin. Sometime during 2001, my first year in office, I began writing articles for the parish bulletin each week which, I suppose, were the forerunner to what is now called Father Frank’s Log. Sometimes, then as now, I was really scratching around for something to write about, and on one occasion, I think early in 2002, I built an article around an experience in Dublin City Centre when I had been in town collecting holy stuff from Veritas, the Catholic Bookshop in Dublin, and was heading back to Mount Argus to celebrate the Evening Mass. I ended up in a bit of a panic as, after about an hour and a half, I was still standing at the stop, waiting for a bus that should have been part of a regular 15-minute service. Of course, in keeping with the old cliché, but absolutely true nonetheless, when the bus did arrive, there were at least two more arriving at the same time.
I can’t remember now the gist of the article I wrote, except that it was accompanied by a cartoon of a skeleton standing at a bus stop, but after writing it I thought no more about it. Then, however, just a few weeks later, I received a letter from the aforesaid Mary O’Rourke, who at the time was Minister for Public Enterprise, which included the transport portfolio. My article would certainly have been tongue-in-cheek, and mildly humorous, as they usually were, seeking to find God in the mundane and ordinary events of life. But apparently, an elderly parishioner had taken it seriously, and had written an irate letter to the Minister for Transport, i.e. Mary O’Rourke, complaining profusely that the Rector and Parish Priest of Mount Argus should have had to wait an hour and a half for a bus. Perhaps, at that time, the Rector and Parish Priest of Mount Argus would have been held in some esteem, although that would certainly not be the case now in secular Ireland. I then received a very polite and respectful letter from Mary O’Rourke herself, referring to the complaint, and apologising to me profusely, with the expressed hope that I would not have to endure such a long wait ever again. My suspicion was that Mary O’Rourke’s letter was slightly tongue-in-cheek too, and that she understood very well the dynamic that had occurred, being used to receiving all kinds of letters from all kinds of people. Either way, I wrote back, thanked her for her kind concern, and explained the light-hearted nature of the article I had written. I kept her letter as a memento for a long time afterwards, but I don’t have it any more. May she rest in peace.
Letters, in general, have been a bit of a problem in St Mungo’s recently, as we haven’t been receiving any mail through the letter box for a few weeks now. After a period of patient, hopeful, but forlorn waiting, I phoned Royal Mail and was informed that there was a problem with sickness and absence in our local area. I was told that, given the legal obligation on their part to have our mail delivered, we would receive any outstanding post within three working days. In the meantime, however, Father Gareth went over early one morning to the sorting office and was presented with a big pile of accumulated post waiting for us. He, too, was informed that there were simply no postmen, or postwomen available, and asked Father Gareth if he would like a job. Father Gareth declined, although I imagine that he would make a good, jolly postie, traipsing the streets of Townhead with a sack on his back, like a Royal Mail version of Santa Clause. We could get him a sleigh instead of a van. Unfortunately, we haven’t received another scrap of post since, and I imagine we will need to go over to the sorting office again. So, if any parishioner knows who the government minister responsible for the Post Office is, please feel free to write a letter on my behalf, as it’s a bit frustrating.
As ever, protect yourself, your loved ones and others, and protect Christ in your lives.
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