The Pipes Are Calling Ye

The Riot In Dublin

The “Troubles​” began in the early 1900’s with Irish defiance of British colonialism. Over the years protests, assassinations and rioting would be very intense for a period of time. Then there would be something akin to a cease-fire and the problem would fade out of the World’s consciousness for months, even years on end. Sometimes then, with no warning, all hell would break loose.

I was in Ireland during one of those intense periods. Bobbie Sands had died one week previously and Francis Hughes succumbed the day we arrived May 12 1981. These were the first hunger strikers. They had demanded to be considered political prisoners rather than common criminals.

We were booked to do a show in Dublin on May 13 for some time. I’m not sure we would have cancelled even had we known the danger. The show must go on. 

It was a long trip. We boarded a British Airways flight in Toronto on Monday May 11. It left around 8 pm.a typical choice for business men heading to London as it got into Heathrow around 7am. We had to scramble a little bit to get our connection to Dublin, Heathrow being like a city in itself with the Aer Lingus terminal a distant suburb. We finally got to O’Connell Street and our hotel, The Gresham, around 2 pm.

Across the street from The Greshaml was the post office where The Proclamation Of The Irish Republic was first presented in the spring of 1916. 

There was a medium size  group of demonstrators, not more 100 on the steps of this historic and meaningful building as we made our way towards the river and then beyond, to a restaurant that had been recommended by the hotel. It took longer to walk there than they said, but it was nothing compared to the walk back.

Most of the band was there along with Chuck Thomas, Charlie Morgan (our sound man in those days) and a journalist named Paul King who was travelling with us while writing a book about Gord. Being a seasoned, world travelled correspondent, he was very aware of the situation but he believed, like all the rest of the news people, that the action would be in Belfast and Derry.

As we walked back from the restaurant the small demonstration had turned into a full scale riot and the only way that we knew of to get back to the hotel was right through it. I learned later that as many as ten thousand people were involved with two hundred taken to hospital. We had to make a decision. There were some anxious faces all around. Then I turned my gaze over to Paul King. He was smiling and there was a spooky gleam in his eyes. 

“Of course we’re going to go through the riot” he said to me ” it’ll be forever if we try to outflank it or wait for it to be over and I have to get to my briefcase at the hotel. I have to file a report”

I’m not sure he said any of that, it’s been many years, but his thoughts were loud.

He was a kid at a field day or a dog on garbage day. He wanted to be the pied piper and lead us all. Terry Clements, our lead guitarist, ex-navy had another idea. He had been taught what to do if faced with this kind of chaos. Run!

“Keep your back to the wall as much as possible. Don’t let anyone or anything get behind you.” Terry ordered, not running. 

So we slowly made our way past burning cars, people with gashes to their heads, the Irish Guarda in full riot gear tossing the odd can of tear gas, the screaming and yelling, the smell of burning rubber. Why do people burn tires at riots? It really stinks. Personal note to all insurrectionists and anarchists: Bring a little class to your riots……. lose the tire burning.

We would gather together before crossing a street, something we had to do twice. The conversation would go something like this:

“I see a spot. Right up there between the smaller gasoline fire and the three Guarda beating that guy with billy clubs. We can get across if we run” and “oh yuck, I stepped in some blood!”

Eventually we made it back to O’Connell Street. As we approached the front of the Gresham Hotel there were men on each side of a large set of iron protective gates which were meant to secure the hotel in situations like this. They urged us on and as the last of us entered they slammed shut the gates. It would have taken powerful explosives to forcibly gain entry through this end of the building.

This old traditional style hotel, like a lot of hotels in Ireland I’ve been told, had its lounge on the main floor sharing space with reception and  

check-in. Towards the back of the room was a full size grand piano. A Steinway, if memory serves. I wandered into the busy lounge, every table was taken, to examine the piano more closely. Ed (PeeWee Charles) Ringwald our pedal steel guitar player was right behind me. Gord (who didn’t accompany us to the restaurant) was seated at a table with the promotor of the Irish part of our tour and some other people I didn’t recognize.

“Sit down and play it a little” he urged “Gord will like that”. It’s important to note that I had been with the band for less than five months and I was still sort of on trial. It wouldn’t hurt to impress the guy who would decide if I stay or not.

So I lowered myself down onto the bench, opened the lid and tentatively hit a few keys. I may have just imagined it, but it seemed as though a hush fell over the crowded bar. 

“No turning back now” I thought “but what should I play?” 

I don’t like to do things like this. It’s not that I fear judgement on my playing,  it’s just that I’m only comfortable being the centre of attention after I’ve earned it. Like being introduced on stage, firing off a killer solo or speaking in public about something I really know well.

A few introductory arpeggios and some two-fives and my hands took themselves to Danny Boy. 

As trite as it might seem it was a magic moment when an older lady stood up and sang  the 2nd verse and chorus. We ended to enthusiastic applause. 

A waitress appeared beside me almost immediately. “They’ll all be up to buying you a drink. What do you want to start?” she asked.

“Chivas on the rocks” I replied.

“The Scots don’t know how to make whiskey” she admonished.

“Did I say Chivas? I meant Bushmills Single Malt” I said with no pause like it was scripted.

“That’s better” she said

Occurred May 12 1981         Related here  July 3 2018​