Even on Days when it Rains

by Julia O'Donnell

  I travelled a lot with Daniel during our time in Dublin. He’d be going off with Ronnie Kennedy from the band and he’d say, ‘Sure why don’t you come with us? You might as well, instead of sittin’ at home on your own.’ He didn’t have to ask twice.

  But I wasn’t totally dependent on Daniel for company during my time in Dublin because my son James, his wife, Eileen, and their family were there – as was my dearest cousin, Willie McDevitt. We had a very strong bond, Willie and myself. We were more like a brother and sister. Willie used to always say to me, ‘You’re the one cousin out of all the cousins that I like the best.’ He was a kind and gentle man. Every summer for many years Willie and Rose came up to our house in Kincasslagh for their holiday. We didn’t have much space, but we made up beds on the floor, and they always enjoyed their time with me.

  Willie was a chef by trade, and as our James grew up he too showed a great interest in cooking. And it wouldn’t be normal dishes like bacon and cabbage or beef stew. James would be experimenting with meat and vegetables and making up dishes of his own. My mother was living with us at the time, and she was the one who would sample whatever he baked. I’d often see her scooping the last of the juices off her plate with a finger, she was a big fan of James’s cooking.

  When Willie came on holidays to us during the summer, he was very impressed by James. ‘James would make a great chef, Julia,’ he’d say to me. Then he said to James one time, ‘If you want to go on to be a chef, come to me and I’ll get you started.’

  The summer that James left school at 14, I went on a short visit to one of Francie’s sisters in Scotland, taking only Daniel with me as he was too young to leave behind. When James got me over in Scotland, he packed a bag and went away to Dublin to Willie. The first I knew of it was when I came home.

  ‘James is gone,’ Kathleen said, and I knew by her tone that it wasn’t to the local shop.

  ‘Gone where?’ I asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.

  ‘He’s gone down to Dublin to Willie to be a chef,’ she told me.

  I was shocked but at the same time relieved because I knew he would come to no harm once he was under Willie’s wing. I was heartbroken to lose him, and I cried for weeks. James was so much fun around the house, and I missed his trick-acting.

  ‘Don’t you worry about him, Julia. Rose and myself will look out for James. He’s a good lad and he’ll go far in life,’ Willie reassured me.

  James said later that he knew, if he’d asked me, that I wouldn’t have let him go to Dublin at 14. And he was right. But now that he was there, I put him in the care of Willie and gave him my blessing.

  And so began James’s outing in the world on his own. Willie started him off washing saucepans and peeling potatoes, and gradually taught him the trade of being a chef. James worked his way up the ladder until he was as good as Willie himself.

  As soon as Daniel and I moved into Margaret’s house in Ballinteer, Willie came to visit us every day, even if it was only for a few minutes. He’d be checking to make sure that everything was all right with us. Family meant everything to Willie.

  I have so many happy and funny memories of Willie during that period in Dublin. I recall how one time it was snowing outside and the path to our house was covered in mucky slush. So when I saw Willie’s car coming up the road, I raced into the kitchen and got a bundle of newspapers to spread in the hallway where we had a pink carpet. Willie would always come in through the hallway and go over and sit in our armchair. I spread the newspapers the whole way from the door to the armchair so that the pink carpet wouldn’t get destroyed. When Willie came in, he began to lift the newspapers, and he lifted every one of them and laid them down in a neat bundle beside the armchair. He passed no remark about the papers, and I didn’t say why they were on the floor.

  Some time later, I heard how he’d said to Rose when he arrived home, ‘Do ye know, Julia is getting very untidy.’

  ‘Why do you say that?’ Rose asked him.

  ‘There were newspapers scattered all over her floor. I had to tidy them up,’ he replied.

  I laughed when I heard that.

  Sometimes Daniel would drop me off at Willie’s home when he went away, and I’d spend the evening with him and Rose. We got on well together, Rose and I. She was like a sister to me. I always liked her.

  As soon as I walked through their front door, Willie would go off and get me a pair of slippers. ‘Take off your shoes, now, and make yourself comfortable while you’re here,’ he’d say.

  One night while I was in Willie’s house I told him that I had to go into St Vincent’s Hospital the next day for a check-up.

  ‘It’s a pity you’re not going into Vincent’s in a couple of days because I have to go in myself and the two of us could have gone together,’ Willie replied.

  On the day I arrived at St Vincent’s I saw Willie’s daughter, Rosita, and Rose sitting there. What are they doing here? I thought to myself. I went over to them, and I could see by Rose’s face that she was very upset. Willie had been rushed to hospital. He was dying. Whenever I think about that day, I always think how it was such a strange coincidence that I had to go into the hospital at that very moment.

  When I went in to see Willie I realized that he was in a very bad way. He had an oxygen mask on his face, and when I went over to the bed he removed it, put his arm around me and gave me a kiss. I didn’t stay long so as not to tire him, and as I was going out the door he shouted, ‘See ya!’

  That night I stayed with Rose at their home. We were sleeping in separate rooms and at 3 a.m. a knock came to the door. The two of us rushed down the stairs. Willie was dead.

  chapter twelve

  * * *

  Tea Day

  MY EARLY WORKING life in the fields and fishing ports of Scotland was so different from the lifestyle that Daniel would go on to enjoy. That’s not to say, of course, that Daniel didn’t work hard for everything he achieved, or that he didn’t have tough times in his early days. It might seem like a glamorous life, but the reality is so different.

  Sometimes there were more people on the stage in Daniel’s band than there were on the dance floor, and he was barely making ends meet. At the time, of course, I didn’t know how much of a struggle he was experiencing. As far as Daniel was concerned, I didn’t need to know; there was no point in two of us having to worry about his future in the entertainment business. It was only much later that I heard all of the stories.

  While travelling across England, Scotland and Wales, he and the band often had to sleep in one room at motorway lodgings because that’s all they could afford between the lot of them. The band members drove their own unreliable, battered old van, with Daniel taking his turn behind the wheel too. But he never got disheartened. Daniel persevered because he loved what he was doing, and he believed that he could succeed. I think there’s a lesson there for everyone. Find something you love to do in life and you’ll always do a good job. Stick with it even during the times when it seems hopeless.

  I was always worried about Daniel, and I said a rosary every night that he would meet good people in the music business who would look after him and guide him. Eventually, my prayers were answered. The two Irishmen who changed his life were Mick Clerkin, who gave him a big recording deal, and Sean Reilly, who became his manager. I always remember Mick and Sean in my prayers today because they have been so good for Daniel. Sean has been like a father to him. I don’t know what Daniel would do without Sean guiding him. A man with a kindly schoolmaster’s appearance, Sean is quietly spoken and a real gentleman. There are so many terrible stories told about singers being abused and diddled out of their earnings by unscrupulous managers, but Sean Reilly has honesty and integrity. Whatever Daniel was entitled to he got and not a penny less. Not only that, Sean had great vision and a belief in Daniel’s talent, and that would take them further in show business than most people ever imagined – they would even go on to do very well in America. Daniel put his total trust in Sean, and he has
never been let down by his long-time friend.

  With Mick and Sean looking after him, it wasn’t long before Daniel was filling the dance venues all over Ireland as well as England, Scotland and Wales. The word was spreading that this boy was something special, and before long there were queues waiting outside the dance halls several hours before he was due to perform.

  In the years that followed, Daniel enjoyed more and more success, and I was delighted for him because I could see that he treated singing as a vocation. Daniel devoted all the waking hours in his life to his role as an entertainer. When he wasn’t travelling and performing, he was writing letters and cards to fans or going off to meet people who were sick, just to give them a little boost. It was no bother to him. Daniel loved every minute of it.

  Whenever I’d go to his show, I’d see the joy that Daniel created among the people there, and that was a good feeling for me. Daniel would always take a moment during the evening to tell the crowd that I was in the audience; then I’d have to stand up and give a little wave.

  ‘Look at her waving; they wouldn’t do it any better in Buckingham Palace,’ he’d say, and the crowd would all laugh.

  And then a strange thing happened; the people who followed Daniel started to recognize me. They would stop me to chat about Daniel and to have a photograph taken with me. Not just people from Donegal or Ireland but people from all over the UK as well. I woke up one day and realized that I was a bit of a celebrity myself. Now that’s something I’d never imagined as a child running wild around Owey.

  I became aware that people were pointing me out when I was going into Daniel’s shows. ‘There’s Daniel’s mother,’ I’d hear them say. I was very happy to be recognized as Daniel’s mother. It made me feel good because I was proud of what he was achieving in his life. And the whole county of Donegal was proud of him too.

  One evening in 1989 we were on our way back to Donegal from Dublin. We were travelling along Gweebarra, a stretch of road between Maas and Leiter, in County Donegal. Although there were no houses along the road, we came upon a lot of cars that were parked.

  ‘What’s wrong here?’ Daniel wondered.

  ‘There must be a wake somewhere,’ I said.

  ‘How could there be a wake when there are no houses?’ he remarked.

  Daniel was driving swiftly along and the next thing he spots a Garda car waving him down. ‘Oh,’ he said, ‘I’ve been caught driving too fast.’ When Daniel stopped, he discovered that the Garda and all of the other people were there for him. He had been voted ‘Donegal Person of the Year’. There were hundreds of cars out to meet him. Even though it was pouring with rain, all of those people came out for Daniel. I was so excited sitting beside him in the car that evening.

  I still have that citation he received on behalf of the people of Donegal. It reads:

  Daniel O’Donnell is a perfect example to the youth of our county and country. Success has not gone to his head. He has never forgotten his roots. He has not forgotten his mother and his family. He has not forgotten his beloved Kincasslagh and Donegal. And above all, he has not forgotten the people who have put him where he is today – his loyal fans.

  He is never too busy to stay behind after shows to talk to them and sign autographs. Many are the stories that could be told of his visits to homes and hospitals to visit sick fans, even when that meant interrupting busy schedules.

  One story which aptly displays his concern for his fans is the one which tells of an occasion when it came to his notice that some fans who were travellers (Irish gypsies) were being refused admittance to his show. He refused to go on stage until they were admitted.

  Daniel never loses an opportunity to lend his name and his services, if possible, to worthwhile charities.

  A non-drinker and non-smoker, his clean-cut image in his dress and in his living standards does not meet with approval from some of the gurus in the media, who seem to wish he were otherwise. But they meet with the approval of us here in Cumann Tir Chonaill (County Donegal).

  The people who chose Daniel as their ‘Donegal Person of the Year’ recognized that he’s a great ambassador for his native county. During his concerts he always paints a wonderful picture of the place he comes from, and he’s forever inviting people to come and visit Donegal and Kincasslagh.

  One day I woke up to find 600 fans outside my house – and they’d all been promised a cup of tea by Daniel!

  For many years, during the local ‘Mary from Dungloe’ festival, Daniel would hold what he called an ‘Open Day’ at our house, where he’d meet anyone who wanted to see him. Daniel’s fans came to the festival from all over Ireland and Britain, and as far away as Australia, New Zealand and America.

  One evening before the Open Day I noticed a car parked over at the bend near our house, and I could see a couple in it. Some time later I saw that it was still parked at the spot. ‘I wonder what they’re doing sitting there?’ I remarked to my daughter Kathleen.

  ‘I don’t know, but they are there a long time. I’ll go over to them to see if there’s anything wrong,’ she said.

  The couple told Kathleen that they were going to stay there for the night, so that they’d get first place in the queue to meet Daniel the following day.

  Kathleen was astonished. ‘Do you want me to bring some blankets out to you?’ she asked.

  ‘No,’ they replied. ‘We have our blankets and everything else we need for the night.’

  When I got up the next morning, the couple were sitting on the wall by the road. I made tea and pancakes and took it out to them. They were so delighted, and we chatted for ages and ages. Daniel has really lovely fans, and they’re so devoted to him.

  On one of those days I met another couple who were just married, and they’d decided to make Daniel’s Open Day at our house part of their honeymoon experience. Wasn’t that lovely!

  Daniel should have called his Open Days ‘Tea Day at My House’ because everyone who came to see him got a cup of tea. Kathleen and all her crew kept the tea flowing, and one by one the fans passed through, greeting Daniel, having their photos taken and getting their cuppa. It was a lovely day for everyone.

  All our neighbours were very understanding too, because I have no doubt that the traffic jams were a nuisance for them at times, even though the local Garda were on duty trying to keep it all running smoothly. No one ever complained, though, I have to say.

  Eventually Daniel had to bring an end to that event. In the early stages, hundreds came to meet him. By the end, there were 6,000! And television crews from Ireland, the UK and even America! That was an incredible amount of people to cope with. And it looked like it would get even bigger. Daniel realized then that the Open Day had become a far more popular attraction for the fans than he ever anticipated. People were waiting too long in the queue. And then Daniel could only give them a few seconds. He felt that the fans were going away disappointed, so for everyone’s sake the curtain had to come down on it. But the memories of that time are great.

  I will never forget the sight that would greet me when I’d look out of the windows on the morning of that Open Day and see thousands of people. It was unbelievable. To this day fans sometimes stop at the house when they’re visiting the area and I often meet them. They sometimes ask me to step in for a photograph with them, and they say, ‘You are the next best thing to meeting Daniel.’

  I also get lots of letters, sent to me personally by Daniel’s fans. And they come from all over the world. I try to answer most of them, even though I’m sure nobody expects me to write back. These days I have all the time in the world, so what a lovely way to pass it by keeping in touch with people who have such a love for Daniel.

  chapter thirteen

  * * *

  Doolittle and Diana

  WHEN I WAS growing up, my mother used to say to us that we should never feel there was anyone out there in the world who was better than us. In other words, that we should never feel inferior to anyone else, regardless of their status in
life. She’d sip from her cup of tea in the evening after we’d eaten and tell us, ‘There’s nobody in the world who’s better than another person. Everyone was born as clean as the other, so there’s no difference between any of us.’

  Through Daniel I have met all kinds of people – the rich, the famous and ordinary folk like myself. And I have always remembered my mother’s words. As a result, I’ve been neither nervous nor excited about any other person.

  When Daniel got his own TV show in Ireland at the end of the 1980s, many international stars were among his guests. But it wasn’t just Daniel who got the opportunity to meet them – I was always brought backstage and introduced to them too.

  As fans of Daniel know, he loves the American country legend Loretta Lynn. So imagine his excitement when he was told that Loretta had agreed to come to Ireland to appear on his show.

  Never mind what my mother used to say about nobody being better than you, Daniel was a nervous wreck when Loretta arrived in Dublin to perform with him. Although he doesn’t normally get flustered, even when the world is collapsing all around him, he was acting like a turkey at Christmas before meeting Loretta.

  Loretta was a lovely woman, though. She probably spotted that Daniel was nervous, but she was so funny and kind and without any airs or graces that he soon settled down. The pair of them then sang ‘How Great Thou Art’. It was really lovely. Later, I was taken to the dressing room at the TV show and Daniel brought me in to meet Loretta. She was a very striking-looking woman in the flesh. She had piercing blue eyes and Cherokee cheekbones. She was really warm and friendly. I had made a batch of pancakes especially for her, and when I gave them to her she was so thankful. ‘Oh, you are such a sweetheart,’ she said, giving me a hug.