POLLY, PUT THE KETTLE ON

Click on any image for a larger version

Where were the women on Bloody Sunday, 21/11/1920?

If you were to go by the little history I learned in school, you'd never be able to answer that question.

The assumption, if there even was an assumption, was that they were at home, brewing tea for their rebel menfolk when they got home after the onerous task of ridding Dublin of all those members of British Intelligence (more men) who were obstructing Michael Collins (another man) on the road to an Irish Republic.

Fact: the Bloody Sunday executions, carried out by Michael Collins's Squad, could not have happened without the women.

And it's not tea they were making.

Their work in the plot was not confined to Bloody Sunday morning. Apart from conjuring up, and spiriting away, weapons on the day, the women were involved in the seriously risky and demanding job of gathering the intelligence need to make the Squad's job possible.

So if Liz Gillis had one job in the National Library of Ireland last night it was to see that the women got their due, and from the word go, she came out fighting.

Now I know Liz. She is a historian with a huge passion for what she does. Her research is assiduous and exemplary. She doesn't rely on written sources alone, though God knows the amount of archive material released recently would keep a battalion busy untill kingdom come.

She talks to people. She searches out the families and listens to their stories. She puts human flesh on her characters. Her parting words last night about all of those to whom she had referred in the course of her talk was: "Remember these are all people, human beings".

But her presentation is something else. She gesticulates like a French person on speed. Her speech is beyond capturing in any one's shorthand. She rattles through the talk like a Thompson Machine Gun. But every word is annunciated and you don't risk losing her if you keep your focus.

Mind you, she's from the Liberties. Basin Street is only round the corner from my great-grandfathers boot and shoemaker's. If you listen carefully, you'll realise that in the local dialect of Hiberno-English the letter "T" is usually pronounced only at the beginning of a word and seldom in the middle or at the end. Liz is the genuine article and the more credible for being so.

She rarely stands still and is a nightmare for any photographer trying to manage in natural, or weak artificial, light.

If I'd have remembered, I'd have brought my big camera & flash. But then I'd have lost the sense of movement. I told her I probably need to train as a sports photographer if I'm ever to get this right.

Anyway she was great and I couldn't possibly tell you all she packed into a short space of time.

If you missed the talk, I suggest you visit the National Library's exhibition FROM TURMOIL TO TRUCE at the National Photographic Archive in Temple Bar.

Showing what the women did is an explicit aim of the exhibition.

I gather Liz may be doing her talk again (soon?). We'll see.

And the National Library expect to have it up on line at some stage.

Meanwhile enjoy Liz's style below.

Bet you're smiling.

Hope so.

That was a privileged viewing.

Go get 'em, Liz.