{"id":2874,"date":"2014-11-26T09:33:36","date_gmt":"2014-11-26T09:33:36","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.longkeshinsideout.co.uk\/?p=2874"},"modified":"2014-11-26T09:35:09","modified_gmt":"2014-11-26T09:35:09","slug":"paddy-joe-and-me-primo","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.longkeshinsideout.co.uk\/?p=2874","title":{"rendered":"Paddy Joe and Me: Harry"},"content":{"rendered":"

Paddy Joe and Me.<\/strong><\/p>\n

Part 1. <\/strong><\/p>\n

Life can be a bowl of cherries. Whoever said this should have \u00a0a good kick in the hooray henrys .\u00a0 This story is definitely one of two halves.\u00a0 It starts in the early troubles. You\u2019ve heard the usual story of the young paramilitary,\u00a0 boy gets involved,\u00a0 defends his country,\u00a0 blah, blah, blah.\u00a0 I won\u2019t bore you with all crap that but sufficient to say that as a team of four, we were pretty lethal. \u00a0\u00a0Me. I lived on the street to escape an alcoholic father who loved using his fists on any of us. I spent more time out of school than in. The beaky officer just loved me. His toughest case. My \u2018father\u2019 didn\u2019t give a shit and my mum just cried.\u00a0 The last words I spoke to my so called father was when I turned on him after he started hitting me. I got stuck in with everything.\u00a0 I had honed my fighting on the street and caught him a lovely right hook.\u00a0 I put the boot in a few times. As he lay there cowering like a true bully I spat out to him that he would never lay another finger on me gain. I walked out.\u00a0 Thank heavens I had a bucket load of aunts and uncles.<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

My mate, Tricky Dicky, thin and small but would fight anyone who crossed him. Urchin would be the nice name for him.\u00a0 He moved like greased lightning. He seemed to have nice parents. His mum was always asking how I was doing and would always offer me tea and bread. His dad was a real church goer but Tricky hinted at things I didn\u2019t understand. I worked things out later when I got older. Big Billy was a powerhouse. Even at primary school he was a match physically for the male teachers.\u00a0 If he got you in a head lock you were staying there. He was a nice guy.\u00a0 Until his temper went , then it was mad stuff.\u00a0 Fought like two men and a dog.<\/p>\n

Last and not least was Chalky.\u00a0 He was orphaned early and didn\u2019t have the best of luck with his adoptive parents.\u00a0 We kicked about the streets and then one night we had a good old scrap on the street. I forget what it was over. Anyway I beat him good looking but afterwards he said it was a good fight and the better man won. I didn\u2019t tell him I hurt for days afterwards. We were the best of friends after that. One night he was in the city centre and had taken on a gang from god knows where. I went steaming in with fists, \u00a0feet and napper. Didn\u2019t really matter as the two of us ended up in the City casualty that night, laughing until it hurt. It hurt even when we didn\u2019t laugh. He became the brother I never had. \u00a0A blood brother.<\/p>\n

What probably bonded us all was Maurice Coates.\u00a0 He was a young local guy who was a captain in the BB. He was tall and thin and lived with his parents.\u00a0 We all laughed at him in the street with his polite ways but he would play football with us. We slagged his moustache.\u00a0 We didn\u2019t want to do the BB thing but he was dying to get us into church. Instead he died with a bullet in his skull in a car in the New Lodge. The four of us went into his folks house. Not that hi sfolks wanted us four as we already were seen as bad boys. Maurice was in his suit and tie. In the coffin.\u00a0 It didn\u2019t seem funny now about us slagging over the shiny arse to his trousers.\u00a0 People were crying. The four of us looked at each other.\u00a0\u00a0 Puzzled by life\u2019s little ways. \u00a0Him the good guy, lying dead. Us, the lost ones, looking down on him. It was the first time I heard about the IRA and the threat to all of us. After leaving his house,\u00a0 the four of us talked and said we would have to do something for Maurice. The four of us\u00a0 joined up with the \u2018lads\u2019. We became a team, a unit. Probably the most disobedient,\u00a0 most unruly team in the whole organisation.\u00a0 But also the most effective.\u00a0 And violent.<\/p>\n

Together we done about everything a bad terrorist was meant to do. \u00a0We broke a lot of hearts, but Belfast in the \u201870s didn\u2019t seem to care too much about broken hearts and broken families.\u00a0 Of course time rolled on. Nothing stays the same.\u00a0 I was the lucky one. \u00a0I got life. \u00a0As recommended by\u00a0 the judge. Prison started for me with a rooftop protest. Loved the view of Belfast from the Crum roof. \u00a0Remand was a pain. I was happy to get my trial and get it over with.\u00a0 The court was a real laugh.\u00a0 The dodgy guy\u00a0 with the wig wasn\u2019t too happy with my cool attitude.\u00a0 Some call it cocky.\u00a0 I wouldn\u2019t plead and refused to recognise the court. But there\u2019s only so much you can get away with. When I heard the 25 minimum I was half way out over the dock when a screw just caught my leg. It was so unbecoming. Hanging upside down while screws and peelers all piled in with me calling lord Justice bollix every name under the sun. I took a tanking that night in the punishment cell. Later in hospital the Gov\u2019 came and knew that his boys had gone over the top. He said I had a right to make a formal complaint. Despite my broken jaw and arm I mumbled\u00a0 that it was OK, \u00a0as I had slipped.\u00a0 I tried to smirk but it hurt too much. I was already thinking about my revenge on each of them. They transferred me to the Kesh in an ambulance the very next day. I never made a complaint. The damage was minimal compared to what I had done.<\/p>\n

The Kesh was the Kesh. You\u2019ve heard all the stories. For me it was good.\u00a0 If there was a fight or protest I was first in. I swear that all those nicknames given to me\u00a0 where very harsh, Psycho, Crazy Harry, Hate the world.\u00a0 The boards were my second home. But 15 years can change any man. I trained and I studied. I read books. A lot of books. Ministers and pastors came to try and save my soul.\u00a0 Which was a pity, \u00a0as I hadn\u2019t been in touch with my soul for a long time. My mother visited faithfully every week for years. Despite her smiles I could see the strain. At least she had got rid of that waster. But change for me came creeping \u00a0slowly.\u00a0 There was the odd occasion that I had a fleeting \u00a0fantasy about escaping. Escaping into the\u00a0 Provo compound and doing a lot of damage before \u00a0going out in a blaze of glory. I had nothing to lose here. \u00a0It galled me to see \u2018our\u2019 men talking to them. For Gods sake we\u2019re here because of them.<\/p>\n

The end of Special Category brought a release of all the status men.\u00a0 But I had made my mind up; I wasn\u2019t going back to the violence. I had been given a real chance. I was going to do my best for my ailing mother. I borrowed \u00a35 as soon as I got out and brought her home the biggest bunch of flowers I could find. Once outside I wanted to see my friends. Real friends. While doing my \u00a0life sentence I knew wee Dicky got a death sentence. The peelers couldn\u2019t nail him so one night on his way home he took a mag of 9 mils from a SPG\u00a0 unit. They couldn\u2019t break him and he didn\u2019t stop doing ops. If he\u2019s in heaven it\u2019s because he threatened St Peter at the Pearly gates. \u00a0I know he\u2019ll sneak me in when my day comes. Big Billy during my time in prison went clean mad. On release my sister drove me up to the Burn. \u00a0From one locked up god forsaken place to another. Only Billy had a real life sentence.\u00a0 Not fearless and fearsome now.\u00a0 My mate, \u00a0my friend. A withered shell with dull eyes. \u00a0I recall the night we went to do a Provo. \u00a0He was to \u00a0put the door in, I was tooled up and Tricky was driving. As Billy put the door in he fell over. Just as well. \u00a03 shots came down the hallway. I could feel the whizz just past my ear. I emptied my mag. Billy got up and ran for the car. The two of us bounced into the back seat. I looked him in the eye. We both burst out laughing. But now a small dribble ran from the side of his mouth. No banter . No recognition. I was shocked. Numb. Empty. I never went back. And Chalky?\u00a0 Well Chalky went missing and no knows (or is saying ) where he is. \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0I still miss him. \u00a0If he\u2019s in hell, he\u2019ll welcome me in when I get there.<\/p>\n

And much as my life changed on that night in \u201974, \u00a0when I was arrested,\u00a0 it changed again in \u201990 when I met Sally. \u00a0I was in a pub watching the big pampered jessies \u00a0of England against the Lions of Africa. I was cheering\u00a0 Cameroon of course. \u2018Come on Ekeke, \u00a0you beaut ye\u2019. I was still hyper alert and I felt I was being watched in the pub.\u00a0 I soon locked eyes with Sally.\u00a0 If I really did have a heart or soul, \u00a0she melted it. Must be something to that love thing. \u00a0I asked her would she see me. \u00a0\u00a0The rest is good history. She had a child already but we had two more. I was happy.\u00a0 The 3 kids were my angels.\u00a0 My life. \u00a0There will be no going back.<\/p>\n

We decided to leave Belfast after a little incident.\u00a0 One night in the pub one of the \u2018boys\u2019 \u00a0offered me drugs. Despite being twice his age but \u00a0twice as fit I felled him in one punch.\u00a0 He twitched a bit on the ground. I had never done drugs at any time and I wasn\u2019t starting now. I was later summoned to see the \u2018area commander\u2019.\u00a0 Not the police one. I didn\u2019t go as instructed but instead landed into his pub one evening, with all his cronies around, \u00a0in front of a lot of people. I told him what I thought of drugs and moreover what I would do to anyone if they ever offered drugs to my children. Suddenly Crazy Harry didn\u2019t seem so funny to the lads. I received no Xmas cards from any of them after that. I decided to move to Coleraine. \u00a0Sheep shagging land but some of them were as sound and true as you could wish for.\u00a0\u00a0 OK, it had its \u2018connections\u2019 but I was friends with a lot of the guys there. Good guys.<\/p>\n

I couldn\u2019t get a decent paying job but dam it I was going to work . Interviews came and went and it was always \u2018my past\u2019 being a huge problem for fair minded employers.\u00a0 In meantime I had volunteered with a church group that Sally attended. I went on picnics and seaside outings with the kids. I carried them on my shoulders.\u00a0 I fell over for them.\u00a0 Pulled funny faces. I loved them and it appeared they loved me. \u00a0At last I got a driving job. I was delivery boy for meals on wheels. \u00a0\u00a0Go to A.\u00a0 Then go to B.\u00a0 Nice. Simple. I was going to be their best driver. Their best worker.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Part 2.<\/p>\n

I was taken on my first round by the boss. \u00a0\u00a0Do you any problems \u00a0going into any areas?\u00a0 I knew what he meant.\u00a0 No, \u00a0I said. I was well away from the people who would remember me. I had no tattoos to give me or my background away to a stranger. I also started using my real name. Everyone thought my name was Harry because of Crazy Harry. I don\u2019t know how that started. My real name was Albert so I started using that! Even better, \u00a0after my mum divorced the Scumbag we all took her maiden name. Lucas. Happy days. My drops where located all over the north Antrim coast.\u00a0 Many in isolated country addresses. \u00a0I loved it. \u00a0From Portstewart to Carnlough. \u00a0It was enjoyable. I was out in all weathers. Go to the persons door and hand in the requested meal. Either to the microwave,\u00a0 to the table or to the fridge. Have a quick natter. Pick up the lunch list with their request for the next day. Some people wanted 6 meals a week some only once or two a week. I got to know them all.\u00a0 We were instructed to look out for signs of hypothermia, distress or anything that didn\u2019t look right. Whatever that meant. I enjoyed talking with the older ones who all seemed very lonely.<\/p>\n

If I had taken my good health and fitness for granted this was a wakeup call. All bar one had health issues. \u00a0Dementia,\u00a0 heart, diabetes, cancer, COPD, MS, hepatitis, one even had AIDs. I liked them all even the grumpy ones. One auld lad was never happy no matter what.\u00a0 We nicknamed him\u00a0 Charlie Caviar. Always wanted the very best.\u00a0 We were a meal provision service \u00a0not the bloody Ritz on wheels. One old dear, who Sally would describe as \u00a0a \u2018wee dote\u2019,\u00a0 was a gentlewoman. Years\u00a0 of hard work,\u00a0 raising a family. Now her dignity was being stripped away by this monster called dementia.\u00a0 She reminded me of my Grandmother. A great woman.<\/p>\n

Quite a few people were immobile. Either couldn\u2019t walk without assistance or where wheelchair bound. Some had severe disabilities and I would spend a bit more chat or banter time with them. One guy with advanced diabetes had lost his left foot and was in danger of losing the other.\u00a0 I had two blind people on my delivery schedule. I liked them both.\u00a0 Both striving to be independent. Both bolshie I would say. I respected them. One\u00a0\u00a0 of them, Paddy,\u00a0 was severely disabled. Blind and no legs. But he stood out with his laughing and dear I say it cocky attitude.\u00a0 He was not browbeaten by his disability. I liked that.\u00a0 I could see the Novorapid insulin pen beside him.\u00a0 One old dear wanted to tell me every time of the precarious state of her health. I had heard it so often I could repeat her woes down to the last tablet.<\/p>\n

Last but not least was Cecil. He worried me the most, \u00a0if I can use that term. I had learned from a friend that he was ex-police. A proud man, the house was spotless and he was as sharp as a tack.\u00a0 It would be just my luck if he knew me from the bad old days. \u00a0He was polite but distant.\u00a0 I had my issues with the police but it didn\u2019t stop me respecting the balls they had to go out night after night knowing the shit they were facing. His room was full of photos of groups of children and adults. \u00a0A family man.\u00a0 But his house had the feel of no one ever visiting.<\/p>\n

While maybe not strictly to the rules I would do the odd message if I had time.\u00a0 A pint of milk, \u00a0a loaf of bread. I looked sweet going in and buying the Bella and Chat magazines but I didn\u2019t mind. It was a small thing but important to them.\u00a0 Sometimes I went to the chemist;\u00a0 more painkillers or laxatives.\u00a0 Poor old James always wanted me to go to the offie but it was always closed when I was doing his delivery.<\/p>\n

One day I was calling at Paddy\u2019s. The front door was always open but today it was shut. I buzzed the intercom. I heard a shout. A pained shout.\u00a0 I looked through the letterbox and there was Paddy on the hall floor.\u00a0 I had no key so chanced going around the back.\u00a0 Against all advice it was open. That was Paddy. He had slipped from the wheelchair going to the loo. I did the first aid thing, \u00a0checking all over and getting as much info\u2019 from him. He pleaded for me not to call his care team or the ambulance. After a while I linked my arms under his.\u00a0 This felt awkward. I\u2019m not into hugging men. \u00a0Despite the absence of legs he was still very heavy. I was glad of my fitness. I struggled him into his chair.\u00a0 \u2018Im Ok, \u00a0I\u2019m Ok\u2019,\u00a0 he kept saying. \u2018Im fine, thank you, thank you\u2019. But I could see the wince of pain across his face. We then proceeded to have our first angry words. I said I had to report this. After arguing back and forth he called me a \u2018heartless bastard\u2019 (pity close to the mark I thought) and that I wanted to get him into trouble. I said OK I wouldn\u2019t tell.\u00a0 As soon as I could,\u00a0 I rang my boss and told him what had happened.<\/p>\n

One day I called and he wasn\u2019t there. A neighbour came out. They knew me and said he had been taken away in an ambulance. I made enquires and found out what hospital he was in. That evening I grabbed a \u2018Get Well\u2019 \u00a0card and a bottle of Lucozade. Our mum made us drink that gunk when we were young and if we were sick. Good enough for her, good enough for me. As I walked into the ward I seen Paddy but standing at the bed side was Cecil. The ex-peeler.\u00a0 It was more instinct than anything. I didn\u2019t go in. And he hadn\u2019t seen me.\u00a0 I walked away. How did they know each other?<\/p>\n

When Paddy returned home I carried on his deliveries. Nothing untoward was said. One day \u00a0I called in and his mail was on the floor. I picked them up and seen the name Patrick Joseph Morgan. Name didn\u2019t ring a bell and I certainly hadn\u2019t recognised his face. Names I am shit at, faces I never forget. But I still had a small whisper at the back of my mind. But I couldn\u2019t nail it. All seemed well with him. The banter carried on. It became obvious he was as much a catholic, as I was a protestant. \u00a0Not very. That surprised me as he had all the usual trappings, \u00a0Scared Heart stuff and all that, \u00a0on the walls. We swopped jokes.\u00a0 We debated the football results. Paddy lived by the radio and was well up to date. More so than most people. I would often hear him singing before I got in. I would say that the cats where complaining about the competition. He laughed.\u00a0 He would often let me out of the house and then shout on me to come back , only to ask, how far would you have been if I hadn\u2019t have called you. I always replied \u2018farther away from a eijit\u2019. We both laughed.<\/p>\n

I remarked one day about a picture on the wall showing him in a football kit, foot on ball and arms crossed. I didn\u2019t recognise the strip. What team I asked.\u00a0 Derby County youth team. 1974. I laughed at him and said he was shitting me.\u00a0 He explained he had went to England, had a trial, was accepted but got homesick and came back to Belfast.\u00a0\u00a0 \u2018Oh yeah so you met the likes of Hector and Lee\u2019, and he cut in by saying \u2018and Ricoh, Davies, Webster,\u00a0 Bourne and of course\u00a0 the boss himself Dave Mc\u2019. I asked what happened Derby that year in the FA Cup? Clear as a bell he says,\u00a0 beaten by Leeds\u00a0 in the 5th round. 1-0.\u00a0 I was amazed. I had not said I was a Rams fan way back in the day. . All the rest of the girlies picked the big teams like Liverpool and Leeds just to support the winners.\u00a0 I picked Derby \u2018cause of Cloughie.<\/p>\n

While Paddy couldn\u2019t see he could certainly listen. One day I wasn\u2019t up for banter and he asked what was wrong. He said my voice was not right.\u00a0 He could hear something was wrong. I decided it was OK to tell him.\u00a0 My niece has just died.\u00a0 She took her own life. She was 21. He said all the right things. He was sorry. \u00a0He hoped I was OK. And that her family was OK.\u00a0 Then out of the blue came the thunderbolt.\u00a0 He started. \u2018I know something about pain and suffering\u2019.\u00a0 I said, \u2019the diabetes or the blindness?\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018No, far from it. I hope you don\u2019t mind me saying\u2019.\u00a0 Before he could say another word. My mind clicked. I just knew he was going to say.\u00a0 The world went into slow motion.<\/p>\n

He would say \u2018it was late 1974\u2019.<\/p>\n

He said \u201c it was November 74\u201d.<\/p>\n

He would say, \u2018I was drinking in the docks\u2019.<\/p>\n

He said,\u00a0 \u201cI was drinking in Garmoyle St\u201d.<\/p>\n

He would say \u2018that there was 1 man killed\u2019.<\/p>\n

He slowly said looking straight ahead, \u201cAuld Seany was killed right away. I was blown across the bar. I had massive injuries. The two feet gone. \u00a0My ribs broken. But I was lucky, I was alive. My girl. \u00a0My girl. Lovely Linda I called her. My dad was horrified when I told him she was a protestant. \u00a0She was hurt bad. When she got better her parents took her to Canada. Had enough of the shithole they call Belfast.\u00a0 Couldn\u2019t\u00a0 blame them.\u00a0 He went silent. I was standing in his living room with a Turkey and Ham with Gravy in my hand like a right tube.<\/p>\n

I let the silence run.\u00a0 After a while he said,\u00a0 \u201cIt was a real piss when the diabetes came later. And then the eyes.\u00a0 My sight.\u00a0 Doctor said it was due to the explosion\u201d. \u00a0He hung his head. \u00a0\u00a0I had never seen him this quiet. \u00a0He was reliving that night. So was I. A stolen car. The four of us.\u00a0 Two 9mms and a Webley. Adrenalin flowing. Waiting till there was no one about. A small gas canister. \u00a0Lighting the thing,\u00a0 then shots through the door to keep them in there.\u00a0 The light, the noise,\u00a0 the crashing debris. Squeal of tyres.\u00a0 Dump the car in east Belfast (get them the blame). Meet up with a clean car. Get rid of the pieces.\u00a0 Two men would be driven the long way home while two of us walked into the town centre to get the bus home.<\/p>\n

I remembered back. The charge sheet. \u00a0All the attempted murders. I couldn\u2019t recall all their names but I knew now. And the short news story 2 days later. Young promising footballer career ruined. \u00a0Shit. After all this time. \u00a0I said I had to go.<\/p>\n

Never felt this way before. Was I in shock? My mind swayed as I tried to make sense of this.\u00a0 My victim, \u00a0my responsibility. \u00a0I really liked this guy. I went to the van and sat there. The unbidden tears welled up and rolled down my cheeks. \u00a0Some sort of dam was bursting. I had never cried before. Not ever. Had never thought of the people I had hurt. I had never met them. But it was war. Never dreamed of their lives decades years later. My actions, my deeds. I couldn\u2019t drive as I couldn\u2019t see for tears. \u00a0I knew I wasn\u2019t going to see him again. But one small voice said, \u00a0\u2018have the balls to go in and say sorry\u2019.<\/p>\n

I resigned that evening. Sally was annoyed. I hadn\u2019t told her the truth yet.\u00a0 I kept thinking of the jokes, the banter. \u00a0Finally Sally snapped which was unusual for her.\u00a0 I told her what had happened. We sat together for most of the night. We talked of real things that get only spoken once in a lifetime. \u00a0I tried hard not to think of a life in the dark without being able to walk.\u00a0 Of being bypassed by life and struggling day and daily.\u00a0 Of meeting life in the face and not being bitter or sad. \u00a0Of right and wrong.\u00a0 Yeah , life can be a right bowl of cherries.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Harry<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

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