The Passing of Gaeilgeόir Seἁn de h-Íde

The front seat of the car was the post-box, a jam-jar kept the rain from the gable light. Only the curlew down on the strand and the faint sound of cars on the Fota Road broke the silence in the yard. He was nearly always at home; the front door was rarely locked. Contented, at peace with his own company. When we visited, he could be dead-heading geraniums in the porch, playing the tin-whistle, folding sweet wrappers to make paper boats, pruning roses in the garden, listening to sean nós singing on Radio na Gaeltacha or praying along with a CD of the Rosary. More often than not he would be sitting next to the Aga, reading, under a bare lightbulb suspended directly above his armchair. Within arm's reach under the kitchen table were his yellowed -with-age de Bhaldraithe and Ố Dónaill dictioraries. His well-thumber prayer book was in Irish as were most of his books.

From the age of fourteen he farmed in Oilean Meanach with his parents Will and Ellie Hyde. His father's parents had died within months of each other in 1901, leaving Will, the eldest of five children, to take over the farm in Barryscourt at the age of twelve. Traditional farming methods were instilled in him and these he passed on to John. Potato growing was an important part of life, as was being self-sufficient. An academic, an avid self-taught reader and speaker of Irish, Sean de h-Ide would undoubtably have achieved success of a different kind had he been given the opportunity to go to secondary school and college, but as he said himself, "That wasn't the way my life went!"

Translating Donie Buckley's "Lapai Odyssey' into Irish was a challenge that took a number of years, as did the transcription of a rare headstone chiselled in Old Irish from the mid-1700s. Both gave him a sense of satisfaction, of being involved in keeping the past alive: "My contribution was to piece together the missing parts and has been my way of acknowledging the valuable work started by others. Go ndếarna Dia grꞻsta orthu eile"

Being recorded as Gaeilge by Smile LFM radio was a new experience, as was being asked for background information in the making of a CD about Barryscourt Castle and to contribute his childhood memories for the local publication 'Irisleabhar Oirthear Chorcai' Following on from this, a bi-lingual article about local history was published in the Holly Bough and, at the age of 80, was the start of a new-found interest in recording his memories. It was also the beginning of a once-a-year contact with the editor, John Dolan, usually by letter or email.

In 2012, a detail of that year's article needed to be changed. When rectifying it went beyond a letter and an email, a phone number for the Evening Echo office was sourced. What ensued was a memorable conversation, for both men. One John, with failing hearing, was standing at the kitchen table. Editor John was in the printing press with machines going at top speed in the background. Time was running out, the paper had gone to print, neither man could hear the other's point of view properly and so, a stalemate was reached without the necessary changes being made. An email of explanation followed. Being his own wors critic and disappointed at not having every detail correct, the editor's email was read and re-read by Sean without comment. For years the mater rested, no more was said.

In 2018 , knowing his 90th birthday wasn't far away, Sean decided to translate a poem into Irish. Written in 1930 by William Leahy from Tullagreen,"Mo Bhaile Dhȗchais" gives details about the scenic areas around Carrigtwohill. Having worked on it over a number of months he was happy with the end result and having got Castlelyons and Duras lady EilÍs UÍ Bhriain, another great advocate of the Irish language, to proofread it more than once, he decided that it was ready to be put in print. As his standards were high, only a select few magazines, papers and editors were considered. Weeks went by, no decision was made. The 2012 email was unearthed, each word analysed. No discussion took place, only one comment was made: " That editor is a fine, respectful man. Send the poem to the Holly Bough".

Uncle John was a farmer, historian, Gaeilgeoir, musician and a deeply religious man. From childhood, the Rosary and Litany of the Saints was a nightly Barryscourt ritual, as was rounding up the geese and bantam hens, lowering the clothesline from the kitchen ceiling, winding the alarm clock. He would then go to the parlour, close the door and start to warm up the uilleann pipes. To a nine-year -old child on holiday in her grandmother's house for the first time, it was, like the curlew on the strand, an unknown, eerie, lonesome sound but, with time, it became part of the familiar bedtime routine, the last sound to hear before sleep.

It was fitting therefore, that on a bright, sunny August day in 2019 when he was laid to rest in Templecurraheen graveyard, the final tribute to Seꞻn de h-Íde, one of the last members of the Hyde family from Ốilean Meꞻnach, Barryscourt, was the beautiful but haunting music of a lone piper Anthony Ruby. ( See text of "Irish Headstone inscription")