Synopsis

Brian Dineen and his bride, Caitlin,(Kitty) go to Ireland for their two-week honeymoon in June 1963. For Brian, this is a trip he has always dreamed of. His childhood and his youth were filled with stories of the “old country” and he wanted to see the storied land for himself. Besides, his father left Ireland in September 1922 “with a price on his head”, according to his mother and other family members who knew Martin Dineen as a young immigrant in 1922. For Caitlin, the honeymoon is a return to the land where she was born and raised, the place from which she emigrated in 1957. Both have high expectations for the trip and decide to see Ireland the way a couple of tourists would, but taking enough time out of the sightseeing to visit family and relatives. While they were planning the trip, Brian said he would like to take a day or two to find out more about what his father did during the Irish Civil War that would have warranted the British putting a price on his head. Caitlin agreed it would make their honeymoon special.

 

Brian and Caitlin land at Shannon and set out to see the Cliffs of Moher, Coole Park, Galway City and Conn (where the film “The Quiet Man” was shot) and then head to Ballina, County Mayo, from where Brian’s family derives. They expect to spend a day or two with Brian’s relatives and then go on to Dublin to visit Caitlin’s family. After that they plan to wind up their trip with more sightseeing.

 

What was supposed to be a brief stay in Ballina with Brian’s relatives turns out differently from what he expects. He meets a number of relatives (the exact relationship is less than clear to him) several of whom knew Martin as a boy and as a young man. He meets Peter Dineen, Martin’s older brother. Though Martin and Peter grew up together, Peter says his memory of the old days is vague. He remembers that Martin joined a brigade or a troop and that was the last he ever saw of him. Brian inquires further about his father’s war exploits and receives a cold welcome among the group of second and third cousins he meets. Instead of quitting his search Brian becomes more dogged about the matter and tells Caitlin he is going to stay here in Mayo and keep asking until he learns why nobody wants to talk about Martin.

 

This insistence leads to the first major argument (big fight, plenty of words, plenty of passion) between the newlyweds and Caitlin threatens to go on to Dublin by herself, which would bring disgrace on both of them. Brian comes to realize that this is their honeymoon, not a search for his past, and that he is putting a great deal of stock– perhaps too much– in his quest. He now sees it as unfair to Caitlin, and to them as a couple. He apologizes and explains to his bride how important this quest has become for him. He says he’s sorry for being so selfish when the two have so little time to do all the things and sightseeing they want to do. Caitlin, too, is apologetic for the way she reacted and admits that it is strange that no one in the Ballina area would know about Martin’s service, especially since there are veterans of the Irish Civil War (the Troubles) still around — and many of them are relatives of Brian. Brian tells Caitlin that before they leave he would like to go to the parish where his father was baptized and get a copy of his baptismal certificate and a copy of his grandparents baptismal and marriage certificate if he can. Caitlin suggests that since they’ll be leaving Ballina the next day the should go to the parish house now and get the process started. That’s where they meet Father Timothy Barr.

 

Father Barr is a young priest, eight years out of the seminary and already is pastor of a church and parish. Being surrounded by rural Ireland, he is hungry for company from the world beyond the boundaries of his parish and asks the American couple to stay for tea. They accept. Brian explains his quest and tells Fr. Barr that his father was born , raised and took the sacraments in this parish. He says that he would like to get a copy his father’s birth certificate and the birth and marriage certificates of both sets of his grandparents if he could.. The priest says he might be able to find his father in the parish records quickly enough but might need some time to locate the books containing the information on his grandparents. As Fr. Barr finds the baptismal record for Martin Dineen, he wonders out loud, and casually, if this Martin Dineen is the Martin Dineen he has heard his predecessor Monsignor Robert Coll, now retired, speak of. He says Msgr. Coll, who retired eighteen months earlier because of a severe heart condition, often mentioned and prayed for a comrade-in-arms from the time of the Troubles named Martin Dineen and suggests that the couple might want to visit with the Monsignor at his retirement cottage in Westport, about 50 kilometers west of Ballina. The priest makes a copy of the certificate and puts the parish seal on it and asks if the couple would like to stay for dinner. Brian says thank you but no. They want to get going and visit the rest of Brian’s relatives today because they’ll be leaving for Dublin the next day… Fr. Barr thanks them for stopping in and visiting with him. He asks Brian for their address in New York and says he will mail the copies of the other certificates to Brian as soon as he can locate the records.

 

When they get to the car, Caitlin insists they go to Westport to meet Msgr. Coll. Brian says it probably wouldn’t lead anywhere and it will be a long ride there and back. Caitlin says that if Brian doesn’t follow this lead it will probably haunt him for the rest of his life. Brian asks “Now who’s getting caught up in this– me or you?” Caitlin says “I expect to be living with you a long time Brian and I don’t want something as small as this car ride to cause us problems later on.” Brian agrees to follow up with Msgr. Coll.

 

The visit to the retired pastor is not overly informational with respect to Brian’s quest.. Msgr. Coll says he and Martin were born in the same town and played and went to school together and that they both received the sacraments in the church they had visited. They were selected to serve on the altar and spent several `weeks of study learning the Latin responses for the mass. They studied with an old priest– Father Lenihan– in the same parish they had visited, and at the end of every hour long lesson, the priest would give each of them a “sweet” and tell them what to study for the next time. Martin and Coll quickly learned the Latin, but because of the “sweet” they agreed to slow down in what they would admit knowing so as to drag out the lessons and get more “sweets.” In rural Mayo, Msgr. Coll said, “sweets” were an almost unheard of luxury in those days, and would be seen only at Christmas or at a birthday — and then in short supply. One day Father Lenihan announced he had run out of sweets and wouldn’t be getting more in until Christmas — eight months away. On the next visit both Martin and Robert Coll knew all the Latin responses and were given their first altar boy assignments. Years later, Msgr. Coll continued, after he had finished the seminary and had been assigned to his home parish, Father Lenihan one evening told him he had caught on to the game the boys were playing and though he had a worthy supply of sweets left in the pantry, decided he needed two new altar boys more than he needed the amusement they provided him.

 

Msgr. Coll said he and Martin remained the best of friends through school and when the troubles broke out, they joined the Mayo Brigade together. When he could no longer justify the killing and destruction in his own conscience, Msgr. Coll said, he informed his commander and was given a release to return home to Mayo. “That’s when I decided to enter the priesthood and was accepted by the seminary at Maynouth,” he added. “When I finished my studies I was assigned back here to Mayo and served as assistant to Father Lenihan until he retired and then served, until I retired, as pastor..”

 

“I never saw Martin again but I understand he went to America. There was talk that he had something to do with the killing of Michael Collins down in Balna….”

 

Brian protests . “Where the hell do you get off saying that? If you knew my father at all you’d know he didn’t have killing in his makeup. He was full of gentleness and compassion. I never saw him raise a hand to anyone, nor heard him raise his voice above a conversational voice in all the years I knew him. If you ever were a friend of his you should be ashamed of yourself for saying that, much less for even thinking it.”

 

Msgr. Coll apparently not used to people — laymen– talking to him in that manner, becomes flustered. He ends the interview saying “I didn’t say he did it. I said there was talk. I don’t think Martin had a cruel bone in his body and I don’t know how that talk got started. But that’s what people say. Now I think its time for you to leave.”

 

As the American couple was leaving, Msgr. Coll added: “But did you ever wonder why your father never returned to Ireland once he left. Even though there was a general amnesty declared in 1926?”

 

Brian and Caitlin return to Ballina and while visiting another relative and Peter’s son James stopped in to meet them on his way home from working in a neighbor’s field. He is a down to earth man with no airs or pretensions about him. As the evening wears on, more relatives and neighbors drop in “to meet the Yanks” and a party results. After several drinks, James becomes more friendly to Brian and in between songs nudges Brian and says “ If it wasn’t for the troubles, Brian, you’d be here having to work your arse off like the rest of us instead of practicing the law in New York. Ye’re lucky in America with no fields to work.. If I could ever get the money together, I’d be there myself. I’d like to get away from the whores of priest and politicians that are running this country into the ground, and keep the likes of me from ever making anything of myself.”

 

Brian answers he can believe it of the politicians because politicians are politicians wherever they are. “But the priests? Aren’t you being just a little harsh? Do you still go to the sacraments, James?”

 

James says of course . He has to. He does because if he doesn’t he runs the chance of losing what little he has. He tells Brian of how the priests and lawyers make decisions on who gets to buy land or make money on the sale of land by rigging bids at an auction.

 

Brian says that’s not his experience with priests at home. He says he spent his prep school and college years with the Jesuits at Fordham and the rest of his life with priests in the parishes. “They pretty much keep to their own business and let the political work to the bishops.

 

“You also make sure you keep your priests and ministers in their place with the separation of church and state,” James answered “If we had a law in Ireland like your First Amendment, we’d be years ahead of where we are now.”

 

“We’ve only met two of your priests. Father Barr over at the parish and your former pastor, Msgr. Coll. Father Barr seemed all right. Msgr. Coll — well he’s a different case.

 

“As a matter of face, we took a ride to Westport this afternoon to see Msgr. Coll. He’s the only one we’ve spoken to so far — apart from your father — that even acknowledges that my father even existed and was part of the life around here before the Civil War. He told me a lot about my father that I didn’t know.”

 

“Did Coll tell you about what happened?”

 

“He said they served together and he got tired of the killing and quit the Mayo Brigade to come home and go off to the priesthood.”

 

“Is that all the old bastard said?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Well why don’t you go back and ask him why good men lose honor and the cowardly mama’s boy gets to live his life out in a luxury none of us will ever enjoy?”

 

“What do you mean by that, James?”

 

“I’ve shot my bloody mouth off to you too much already. It must be the drink that’s got me and I must be going. Good night, Brian.”

 

“I’d go back and ask him if I thought it would do any good, but Caitlin and I are leaving for Dublin first thing in the morning and won’t have time to go back to see him. And I doubt he’d want to see us again anyhow.”

 

When Brian tells Caitlin what James said — even though he was probably drunk– Caitlin insists they go back and find out what James meant. “Dublin can wait another day,” she says. “We won’t have this opportunity again for a long time.”

 

The couple spends most of the rest of the night with Brian’s relatives while the singing and dancing go on well into the early morning. They manage to get away about 2 a.m. and return to their hotel. After a short troubled sleep, Brian and Caitlin drive to James’ house to get a clearer fix on what his cousin meant about Coll. James is not there so they start out once again for Westport.

 

Brian and Caitlin catch the monsignor as he is returning from an early morning fishing trip to Clew Bay and wait in his parlor while he changes out of his waders and fishing clothes and puts away his fly fishing gear. After what seems an interminable period of time the monsignor returns to the parlor and ask if they would like some tea. Since they haven’t had any breakfast the thought of tea and biscuits sounds good to them. After the housekeeper serves the tea, Brian confronts Msgr. Coll with what he heard the night before. The monsignor says he doesn’t know what they are talking about but “only a fool would give credence to the talk of those drunks in Ballina.”

 

“You must remember, Brian, and Caitlin too, that when you serve a parish for as long as I did you’re going to make lasting friends and for each friend you make, you’ll make two lasting enemies. If you do something for one person who needs it, there will always be another person or a group of persons who resent it. It’s not very Christian of them but it’s pure West of Ireland to be sure. I don’t know what I ever did to displease those irreligious parishioners, but some of them have tried to blacken my name since the first day I came there as an assistant.”

 

Brian is frustrated once more with the monsignor’s blathering and repeats word for word what his cousin said about good men losing honor and cowards living in luxury. Msgr. Coll becomes furious and launches into a tirade about Peter Dineen as a trouble maker. He says Peter has always been a leader of those out to destroy him with lies and innuendoes. “That the man presents himself for the sacraments on Sunday is a scandal this parish will never outlive, you can be sure.”

 

Brian listens to the tirade and when the raging monsignor has finished says quietly “It wasn’t Peter Dineen who told me monsignor, but if I put the right question to him, I might learn more about my father and you than I do now.”

 

Brian and Caitlin get up and are about to leave. “Thank you, monsignor, for the tea and the biscuits and for the courtesy of your time. I’m sorry we bothered you and I assure you we won’t be bothering again,” Brian said. “If I’ve opened old wounds, I’m sorry for that, too, and I hope you will forgive me. We must be going now.” Brian is about to open the door when the old priest says, in a voice more resigned and more humble than before, “Please, Brian, stay a minute. The way you spoke just now, it’s the way Martin, your father would have spoken. His gentle soul, his kindness, his generosity –you got them all from him.

 

“I’ve spent most of my life in living dread of the day when someone–you or somebody else– would walk through my front door, at the rectory or here, and tell me I’ve been found out. And I’m tired of being afraid. It’s shortened my life already and I’m sick of it.

 

“I should have known when you showed up in Westport that my time was running out.

 

“Your father left Ireland under the cover of darkness and in disgrace because he was protecting me for what I did.

 

“I killed Michael Collins.”

 

The Priest’s Tale

 

Both Brian and Caitlin were speechless at what the priest had said. Brian wanted to ask what the priest meant but he had a feeling that if he spoke even one syllable, the priest would not say another word. And he wanted to know more. Caitlin who understood more thoroughly, the gravity of the priest’s utterance, could only say, in the Gaelic “My Lord and my God…My Lord and my God.”

 

“Please sit down again and maybe you’ll understand what really happened.

 

“Martin Dineen and I were the closest of friends growing up in XXXXXX and did almost everything together. Since neither of us were the oldest son in our families, we knew we’d never inherit the farms and there was not much of a future for either of us in Mayo, or in Ireland for that matter. I had no idea what I wanted to do when I grew up but your father had it in his mind to go to America and make his fortune.

 

“Your father and I were on our way home from a dance one Saturday night near Ballina and there was a group of other boys and girls from our school a quarter mile or so up the road. We couldn’t have been more than fifteen or sixteen at the time. We had no reason to catch up with the others because the two of us could always something to talk about. We saw an automobile churning up the dust well beyond the others and when it finally got near where they were walking, the car stopped and two Black and Tans got out. We knew enough to mind our own business and get out of sight so they would spot us. So we hid behind the wall and kept watching to see what was going on. After a few minutes, we saw the boys running away in the direction opposite us and the girls made to stand along the wall. The Brits kept prodding at them one at a time and then let three of the girls go. One of the two they detained was my neighbor in XXXXXX , a fourteen year old named Marie Bresslin, the other was her cousin from Foxford, another fourteen year old. I think her name was Eileen. I can’t remember her last name. The Brits were big strapping thugs and while we watched from a safe distance away they raped and buggered the girls and when they were finished, they left the girls on the road and drove off. When they passed the place where we were hiding, they were laughing their hearts out. We ran to where the girls were but there was little we could do. Marie was out of her mind, screaming. And she has never recovered. She’s been living in an institution over near Dublin ever since. Eileen was dead, her head smashed in with the butt of the Brit’s rifle.

 

We went to the constabulary and told the sergeant what we saw. We were able to identify the car and its markings and gave a description of the two Brits. They brought our fathers down to get us and told them to teach us to mind our own business.

 

Before the next Saturday came around the both of us signed up with the Mayo Brigade.

 

Martin and I served together in the Brigade for almost two years. First it was the Black and Tans and then after The Big Fellow and Dev had the falling out over the treaty, it was the civil war. I lost all heart in the fighting. Your father lost taste for it too because instead of going after the British we were out to kill our own countrymen — and a lot of good people who had nothing to do with the fighting got killed for no reason.

 

“My regular job was to mine the roads every evening and take the mines out in the morning so the farmers could move their cattle and sheep along the road. One morning I overslept and one of my mines killed a farmer and his son on their way to town. That brought the fighting home to me in a way nothing else could and I didn’t want any more to do with it.

 

“I got to the point where I told my commander I had to quit for conscientious reasons and he just stood there and laughed at me. Then I told him — it was a lie at the time– that I wanted to go home so I could enter the seminary when the classes began the next month– and become a priest.

 

(The priest tells the story of how he participated in the assassination of Michael Collins and how when he came back to where Martin was stationed, Martin listened to his crazed and circuitous tale and then tried to get permission to take Robert Coll home to Mayo. The permission was slow in coming and when Martin could no longer stand listening to his demented friend, Martin took him by foot back to Mayo and sought the counsel of Father Lenihan. Father Lenihan concealed Martin that day and secured a false passport and some money for him. Under cover of darkness, the priest got Martin started on the road to Dublin where he took a cattle boat to Wales, a train to Southampton, and the steamer for America.)

 

When the monsignor finished his story, he looks at Brian and asks “:Can you forgive me for what I have done to your father and his family?”

 

Brian doesn’t answer.

 

“I haven’t had a day’s peace since the last time I saw your father. And now, for the first time in all those years I’m experiencing a sense of relief.

 

“You know that when you tell them back in Ballina what you know, I’ll be disgraced and have to leave here. I don’t know what I’ll do or where I’ll go,” he says.

 

“No father,” says Brian, “if there’s telling to be done, you’ll have to do it. No one will believe me and most of your friends will say I’m trying to make a hero out of my father.

 

“Think about it and when you’re ready to tell, tell.

 

Brian and Caitlin return to the hotel and leave Ballina that afternoon without talking to anyone else. The drive on to Dublin and visit with Caitlin’s family for two days, complete their sightseeing and return home to the Bronx.

 

Twelve years later an envelope postmarked Ballina arrives at their home on Bailey Avenue. It’s contents is a newspaper article announcing the death of Monsignor Robert Coll. The obit follows:

 

THE WESTERN PEOPLE, Ballina, County Mayo

 

Westport, Co. Mayo, April 15, 1975: The Very Reverend Monsignor Robert A. Coll, 73, of Ballincross Road, Westport, late pastor of St. Aedan’s Church, Ballina, died late Tuesday at his home following a brief illness. Msgr. Coll resided at the Ballincross cottage since 1962 when poor health forced him to retire after 34 years service to St. Aedan’s parish, a quarter century of which was served as pastor.

Monsignor Coll was born in _______________, County Mayo and was the son of James and Mary (nee Griffin) Coll. He was the second youngest of eight brothers and sisters.

Msgr. Coll attended school at ________________ and was accepted into the seminary at Maynouth College after serving in the Mayo Brigade. from 1920 to 1922. He was sponsored at the seminary by Father Timothy Lenihan, who served as pastor of St. Aedan’s from 1914 to 1936. Upon ordination, Msgr. Coll was assigned as assistant at St. Aedan’s and served in that capacity until the death of Father Lenihan in 1936. At that time Msgr. Coll was named pastor. He was elevated to Monsignor in 1956 on the twentieth anniversary of his becoming pastor of St. Aedan’s.

Msgr. Coll will be remembered by his Ballina parishioners and his neighbors in Westport for his dedication to the cause of peace among the Irish people. In his tenure as pastor, Msgr. Coll spoke on the cause of peace in all 32 counties of Ireland and was received as warmly in Northern Ireland as he was in the Republic of Ireland. His counsel was sought by the leadership of all political parties and he listed among his confidants such figures as Eamon Devallera, long time president of the Irish Free State and Prime Minister of the Republic of Ireland.

Since his retirement as pastor, Msgr. Coll offered daily and Sunday mass at the Nursing Home, a short walk from his residence and was an active and devoted member of the Westport Fly Fishing Club.

Msgr. Coll is survived by a brother John of San Francisco, California, and a sister Ellen Fogarty of Chicago, Illinois, both United States.

A funeral mass will be sung at St. Aedan’s on Friday following two days of waking in the sanctuary there. Burial will follow at St. Aedan’s Cemetery.