It is with a heavy heart that I stand to pay tribute to Paddy McGowan. Paddy and myself go back a long way. When I first knew Paddy 40 long years ago, he drove a truck. He would leave Ballybofey at 9 p.m. or 10 p.m., drive to the fruit market in Dublin, arriving at possibly 4 a.m. and sleep in the cab of that old truck until the market opened at 6 a.m. In those days, there were no air brakes, power steering or heaters in trucks; they were a cold miserable way of transport. He bought his load of fruit and paid for it, as was the custom. Paddy then had his breakfast in a cafe on the quays which was open for that particular purpose. A breakfast in those days was bread, butter and tea and it cost one shilling. He drove back to Donegal and sold his fruit in various towns and villages. There were no Fergal Quinn's or supermarkets in those days but family grocers, and he supplied them with fresh fruit and vegetables from the Dublin market.
The one thing Paddy and I had in common, which first brought us together, was that we both believed we should not have to leave Ireland to make a living; we believed we could do it at home. Paddy grew up at a time when the hiring fairs were in Strabane and Lifford and he saw many boys and girls brought there by their fathers and mothers to be hired by farmers in Tyrone, Derry, Fermanagh and his own Donegal. Those 14 and 15 year olds were leaving home for the first time; they had never gone beyond their own house and the national school. They were hired by large farmers as house maids and farm boys. Some of them got on very well, but he saw the tears and the goodbyes. Many them never saw their fathers, mothers or homes again. Paddy saw a sad world in his young days and he set out to improve it.
Paddy did not become involved in politics or become a councillor to get the letters "MCC" after his name. He did not become a Member of the House to get the word "Senator" before his name but to work for the people of Donegal. The roads were bad, there was no rural electrification or water supplies, only the old spring well. Paddy worked hard to ensure that he got roads into Donegal and he promoted rural electrification, water supplies and, particularly, house grants and house reconstruction. Indeed, at one of the last parliamentary party meetings he attended, he argued forcefully for an increase in the new house grant to £10,000 and for a reconstruction grant of £5,000 because Paddy believed that if people in rural Ireland had a comfortable home with electricity, water and all the amenities, it would help to keep the population there. That was his main thing. He also had great interest in all schools and the vocational education committee, which he chaired for many years, in particular. He believed the tech was the poor man's university, and I did too, having graduated from it. John Fitzgerald Kennedy said that, in his father's time, emigrants left Ireland for America with a mixture of hope and agony. However, because of vocational education, they later went to London, Birmingham and Manchester with a mixture of hope and confidence as they had second level education. That bit of training in woodwork and metalwork, and home economics for girls, meant they could go with their group certificates and many girls became good nurses. Many of the young people were able to improve their lot and that is why so many Irish people did well in England. Paddy believed strongly in the vocational education system and worked very hard for it.
He was also a great friend. He was not a fair weather friend, though there are many of them in society. No, if Paddy was with you, he was with you. The parish priest in Lifford, speaking at his requiem mass, said that when he was in difficulties and had to go to court to clear his name, Paddy was a man who stood with him and backed him all the way when others shied away. Paddy was a friend for life, not a fair weather friend.
It was good to hear Bishop Seamus Hegarty say that when he had trouble with a school and all else failed, he went to Paddy. Paddy said he would take it on and he made a success of it. He was a hands on politician. He told me that before an election he went to the county manager to get a door on a council house for an old lady. The county manager said there was no money and that it could not be done. Persuasion failed and Paddy drove to the council storeyard. He had served his time as a carpenter and he picked a door out of the store, saying: "Tell the county manager that Paddy McGowan took this door". He went home, changed his clothes, got his toolbox and hung the door himself. A week later he got a letter from the county manager saying that he would send out an engineer to examine the door. Paddy wrote "PTO" on the front of it and wrote on the back: "The door is fitted. Mission accomplished. Don't waste your engineer's time. Paddy McGowan" and he mailed it back to him.
This was the kind of hands on man Paddy was. There was no such thing as taking no for an answer – it was done. As others have said, Paddy was in the hotel business but during the troubles in 1969, Strabane and Lifford became no-go areas. I visited the hospital in Lifford and saw the bomb damage in Strabane. People who are not from that area do not realise the damage that was done there. However, Paddy did not give in. He bought a patch of land in Donegal town and built the Pavese Ballroom, which he ran successfully in the big band era.
He could turn his hand to anything. If one thing failed, he had something else on the conveyor belt. He always had something on his programme. Some of his best work was done in cross-Border co-operation. Because of how he saw Northern Ireland, he went to Derry and Fermanagh, he met councillors, the IRA, the UDA, Unionists, Nationalists and the SDLP. He spoke to them individually and succeeded in getting cross-Border co-operation. That was the forerunner of today's peace initiative. It is sad that he did not live to see peace completed but, with God's help, it will be so and that will be a tribute to Paddy.
To his wife, Rosemary, and his family we extend our sincere sympathy. Paddy always referred to his part of Donegal as "his patch". Today he rests on a patch in Heaven. May we all meet on that patch one day. Paddy, we miss you. You were a great friend. Go dtuga Dia suaimhneas dá anam.