By Eoin Glackin
NEXT Thursday, March 6 marks the 50th anniversary of the death of Hugh ‘Boogie’ McDaid, a young man from Ramelton killed on the night of his 21st birthday.
Hugh is remembered by all who knew him as a unique character – a larger-than-life personality, never far from mischief but who always had a big heart.
He was the only son of Kathleen and Hugh (known to all as Tudy), but had six doting sisters: Jennifer, Eileen, Grace, Dolores, Fiona and Anne-Marie.
The family lived in Quay House, Ramelton, overlooking the idyllic Lennon River and a stone’s throw from McDaid’s bottling store, where Tudy worked and Hugh worked part-time.
Looking back, Hugh’s surviving sisters say that despite Hugh being ahead of his time in many ways, they don’t remember any big disagreements in the house between him and his parents.
There was one incident, however, which his sister Grace remembers and which occurred one early Sunday morning when her mother lifted the roof with a yelp after reading a note left by Hugh.
In the note, he informed her that the family car was in a ditch somewhere, and asked her not to wake him because he was tired from having to walk home.
Pat McArt was in secondary school with Boogie at St Eunan’s College in Letterkenny. The pair often sat together in class.
“He was full of life and fun. There was no escapade he wouldn’t get up to. And he was so funny, he made me laugh so much,” said Pat.
“He loved a smart answer. Like one day we had to fill out some form and where it asked for sex, he wrote ‘yes please.’
“Another time, he was messing around with a pack of matches and he rigged the box so it would explode in one big burst. When someone came over asking what he was at, he just casually answered ‘science experiment.’”
Hugh worked alongside his father among the rogue’s gallery at McDaid’s bottling store, home of Football Special.
“He was strong as an ox; it was from lifting those big heavy crates in McDaid’s from a young age. He could hit a football like a rocket,” said Pat.
There was usually an air of friendly rivalry between Tudy and Hugh, one feeling he had to outdo the other. They were also said to be similar in many ways and had the same ability to get away with saying things that others wouldn’t.
Tudy had to come to Hugh’s aid on occasion.
During one religion class, with a teacher known as Wee Joe, the subject of the day was Sex Education. “You can imagine what it was like in those days,” said Pat.
Wee Joe eventually offered Hugh and a few others, including McArt, Bertie Cunningham and Eamonn Cannon, the option to take the class off rather than endure their contribution to the discussion any further. They of course opted for the free class.
However, they were intercepted by the principal who was not convinced by their story and summoned the parents of each boy to the college for a lecture on parenting and religion.
Tudy tried to dig his son out of a hole and soften the wrath of the principal.
“I recall Hugh’s father making the excuse that his son was ‘probably influenced by local protestants in Ramelton!’” remembered classmate Bertie Cunninigham.
After school Hugh went to the Regional Technical College in Letterkenny, as it was known then. While academia was never a passion of his, he used his time there to further other interests.
He was, by all accounts, music mad.
His sisters remember he was either blaring music from his room at home or blaring music on his boombox when out and about. It was a deep passion.
So, when he was in college, he began booking bands and organising gigs to great success.
One summer he got itchy feet and heard of an opportunity to go and work in London.
He assured a builder that he was experienced fitting polystyrene ceiling tiles.
However, it was not long into the first day when the gaffer realised that Hugh had never held a polystyrene tile in his life.
He managed to hold out for the summer and worked on in construction.
On March 5, 1975, Hugh celebrated his 21st birthday by attending a dance in Milford, and was due to have a party in the function room of the Bridge Bar the following night.
The food Kathleen had baked for her only son’s birthday party the following night would be served at his wake, as by 3am on March 6, Hugh was dead.
After the dance had ended, he was struck on the head with a baton by a Garda who was intervening in an altercation between Hugh and another young man.
The young man, along with two others, had assaulted Hugh at the dance earlier in the night.
The official cause of death was Pulmonary Aspiration. This was due to swelling of the brain, brought on by a fracture to the skull.
The three young men involved in the earlier attack were brought before the District Court on assault charges and were given suspended sentences.
Hugh’s sister Dolores recalls that day in court. She is still shocked by the language used in regards to the use of the baton.
“The judge casually said that the Garda acted in a ‘proper and efficient manner,’ and then just moved on. That was the only acknowledgment we ever got.”
Pat McArt was also there in court. “I remember after it ended, Tudy stood in the court upset and shouted, ‘we all know it wasn’t those young fellas.’”
Tudy was threatened with a charge of contempt for his outburst and had to be led out of the court by his daughters Jennifer and Dolores.
In exchange for a small cash payment, the McDaid family were asked to sign waivers that stated they could never take an action against the State over Hugh’s death.
Grace recalls she did not sign.
“There was no way I was going to take £100 for my brother,”.
When asked if she thinks her mother ever got over her son’s death, Grace answered “Absolutely not. I never got over it.”
For sister Eileen, 50 years on, the grief has evolved but not dissipated.
“I know the death of a loved one is hard but I think a sudden death is particularly tough. It’s like your life is suddenly, overnight, cut in two.
There is life before and life after. Nothing prepares you for it. Nothing is the same after it,” she said.
“As we approach the 50th anniversary of his death we mourn him afresh. From this distance we fully comprehend our loss. You don’t at the time.
“We think of all the family events he missed. We think of the fun we would have had with him, the life he would have led.
“All lost to us forever and for what?”
Related posts:
Receive quality journalism wherever you are, on any device. Keep up to date from the comfort of your own home with a digital subscription.
Any time | Any place | Anywhere
SUBSCRIBE TO CURRENT EDITION TODAY
and get access to our archive editions dating back to 2007(CLICK ON THE TITLE BELOW TO SUBSCRIBE)