0:00:34 > 0:00:38I was born in Derry/Londonderry
0:00:38 > 0:00:40on the northwest coast of Ireland.
0:00:47 > 0:00:53The city beyond my window was awash with adventure, past, present
0:00:53 > 0:00:57and a future that was about to be revealed to me.
0:01:00 > 0:01:03For the past few months that I had been ill,
0:01:03 > 0:01:05and spared going to school...
0:01:06 > 0:01:09..I moved and lived in an adult's world.
0:01:13 > 0:01:16Our house seethed with life and laughter.
0:01:21 > 0:01:23I was surrounded by special people.
0:01:27 > 0:01:31In many ways, those were the happiest of days.
0:01:33 > 0:01:34I felt blessed.
0:01:36 > 0:01:40But not by Jesus or by his flaming sacred heart.
0:01:44 > 0:01:46That was just...er, furniture.
0:01:48 > 0:01:52Furniture that seemed to be waiting for me to die.
0:01:54 > 0:01:57But I had no intention of dying. I was far too busy.
0:01:59 > 0:02:02Too busy listening to the girls singing
0:02:02 > 0:02:05in the shirt factory sweatshop across the street.
0:02:05 > 0:02:09# And their womenfolk wave their goodbyes... #
0:02:09 > 0:02:13The factory windows were left open to let the steam out.
0:02:15 > 0:02:18The girls sang along with the tunes playing on the radio.
0:02:18 > 0:02:23# While the Lou'siana moon floats on high... #
0:02:23 > 0:02:26They always lapsed into three-part harmony.
0:02:26 > 0:02:31It was an almost African choral sound.
0:02:31 > 0:02:37They sang, "Shrimp boats is a-comin', their sails are in sight.
0:02:37 > 0:02:41"Shrimp boats is a-comin', there'll be dancing tonight."
0:02:45 > 0:02:46# Shrimp boats is a-comin'
0:02:46 > 0:02:48# Their sails are in sight
0:02:48 > 0:02:50# Shrimp boats is a-comin'
0:02:50 > 0:02:52# There's dancin' tonight
0:02:52 > 0:02:54# Why don't you hurry, hurry, hurry home?
0:02:54 > 0:02:56# Why don't you hurry, hurry, hurry home?
0:02:56 > 0:02:57# Look here, the shrimp boats is a-comin'
0:02:57 > 0:03:00# There's dancin' tonight
0:03:00 > 0:03:01# Shrimps boats is a-comin'
0:03:01 > 0:03:05# There's dancin' tonight
0:03:05 > 0:03:12# Happy the days while they're mending the nets
0:03:12 > 0:03:17# Till once more they ride high out to sea... #
0:03:17 > 0:03:24I pictured them swaying home after work, arms innocently linked,
0:03:24 > 0:03:29giggling at the grey, wasted boys gathered at the street corners,
0:03:29 > 0:03:32sucking dog-ends and spitting on the pavement.
0:03:34 > 0:03:39Girls with happy smiles and strong, gleaming, white teeth.
0:03:43 > 0:03:46Because these were strong, independent women.
0:03:46 > 0:03:48I loved their vitality, in spite of the fact
0:03:48 > 0:03:52that their lives were tough outside the factory gates.
0:03:53 > 0:03:55They showed no sign of it, though.
0:03:55 > 0:04:01Never seemed down, depressed or even a hair less than jolly.
0:04:01 > 0:04:03I was aware of the cramped conditions
0:04:03 > 0:04:05they had to endure at home.
0:04:06 > 0:04:09Often too-large families
0:04:09 > 0:04:12crammed into a crumbling, small-scale two-up-two-down.
0:04:14 > 0:04:20Husbands, of course, were generally unemployed and sensitive about it.
0:04:20 > 0:04:21No housework for the men.
0:04:24 > 0:04:28Dignity must be preserved at all costs.
0:04:40 > 0:04:44As 1,500 girls poured out onto the pavement beneath me,
0:04:44 > 0:04:50I remembered thinking, "Those girls are too good for those boys."
0:04:50 > 0:04:53Even though I was one of those boys myself.
0:05:14 > 0:05:20Because of its colourful past and centuries of unresolved disputes,
0:05:20 > 0:05:25the city of Derry has gathered a minimum of two names -
0:05:25 > 0:05:28Derry, favoured by Catholics,
0:05:28 > 0:05:33and Londonderry, which is easier on the Protestant ear.
0:05:33 > 0:05:37The end result is a mysterious town,
0:05:37 > 0:05:40guarded and furtive about its history.
0:05:43 > 0:05:48The spires of two great rival cathedrals stage a Mexican stand-off
0:05:48 > 0:05:51across the deserted river Foyle.
0:05:52 > 0:05:56Each morning, I would stand on the bottom of my bed,
0:05:56 > 0:05:59peering out the open sky-light window...
0:06:00 > 0:06:03..at the serried ranks of clustered buildings
0:06:03 > 0:06:08seemingly waiting for the great clang of the Guildhall Clock
0:06:08 > 0:06:11to call them to attention.
0:06:11 > 0:06:14This morning world belonged to me only.
0:06:16 > 0:06:22The poet Philip Larkin said that sex wasn't invented until 1963.
0:06:24 > 0:06:27As far as I was concerned, neither was colour.
0:06:29 > 0:06:30This was a grey city.
0:06:31 > 0:06:34Granted, there were different shades of grey,
0:06:34 > 0:06:37each one duller than the next.
0:06:39 > 0:06:44Appropriate shades of grey were selected for people's complexions,
0:06:44 > 0:06:51men's overcoats, women's shoes, children's prams,
0:06:51 > 0:06:56municipal and private buildings, ships and dockers' caps.
0:06:57 > 0:07:01Cars were grey too, but, unaccountably,
0:07:01 > 0:07:04some of them were white.
0:07:08 > 0:07:12I once had a charcoal-grey suit with yellow lining.
0:07:17 > 0:07:19Quite the dandy.
0:07:23 > 0:07:27To get my hands on the type of red shirt worn by Elvis,
0:07:27 > 0:07:29I would have to fly to Naples.
0:07:30 > 0:07:34There was as much chance of flying to the moon.
0:07:37 > 0:07:40There was no such thing as casual clothing.
0:07:41 > 0:07:44We wore cheap suits until they disintegrated.
0:07:46 > 0:07:50We didn't have denims, jeans or T-shirts.
0:07:50 > 0:07:54We couldn't even get a torn T-shirt like Marlon Brando's.
0:07:58 > 0:08:03We strove to look respectable, because this was the natural order.
0:08:15 > 0:08:19The city had been falling apart since I was born.
0:08:19 > 0:08:22Faded Victorian ruins, stripped of splendour.
0:08:24 > 0:08:28But that was fine by me. I loved it.
0:08:28 > 0:08:29It felt homely.
0:08:32 > 0:08:36Dickensian and desolate though it may have looked to outsiders,
0:08:36 > 0:08:39I saw little wrong with the place at the time.
0:08:42 > 0:08:44It felt lived-in.
0:08:44 > 0:08:51And the people who lived in it were warm, poor, friendly, funny,
0:08:51 > 0:08:55deprived, neglected and cheerful.
0:09:01 > 0:09:03I thought everybody was like that.
0:09:18 > 0:09:22We belonged only to the street from which we came.
0:09:29 > 0:09:30Most people were working class
0:09:30 > 0:09:34and felt that the city didn't belong to them.
0:09:34 > 0:09:36That it was owned by somebody else.
0:09:37 > 0:09:39It was an uncomfortable feeling.
0:09:44 > 0:09:47There was no pressure to succeed in life,
0:09:47 > 0:09:51because it was taken as given that it didn't matter.
0:09:51 > 0:09:53The odds were against us.
0:10:06 > 0:10:08Many of the older, smarter people
0:10:08 > 0:10:11weren't educated as they should have been...
0:10:14 > 0:10:17..some of whom became tortured souls,
0:10:17 > 0:10:20who'd long ago been left behind
0:10:20 > 0:10:22by an inadequate education system.
0:10:25 > 0:10:29Tortured souls who would seek each other out
0:10:29 > 0:10:31and gather around a dwindling fire...
0:10:33 > 0:10:35..in late-night huckster shops,
0:10:35 > 0:10:39to talk about matters that they deemed intellectual.
0:10:40 > 0:10:42Such as, what was the thinking
0:10:42 > 0:10:44behind Einstein's theory of relativity?
0:10:45 > 0:10:49Or why sticks seemed to bend in the water.
0:10:50 > 0:10:54Or why dogs can hear high-pitched sounds that we can't.
0:10:56 > 0:11:02The questions and hypotheses carried on late into the night.
0:11:06 > 0:11:11The street where I lived was teeming with life and incident.
0:11:12 > 0:11:14A jumble of Victorian housing
0:11:14 > 0:11:17and ramshackle tenements filled to overflowing.
0:11:20 > 0:11:25Small dwellings which were often occupied by two or three families.
0:11:27 > 0:11:29Plus the outhouse dwellers.
0:11:32 > 0:11:35Menageries of donkeys, pigs, chickens
0:11:35 > 0:11:40and other varieties of fowl co-existed in the back yards.
0:11:44 > 0:11:46As if there weren't enough animals running free,
0:11:46 > 0:11:49my neighbour, Greta, owned a pet shop.
0:11:50 > 0:11:54She'd taught her parrot to greet unwelcome visitors to the street
0:11:54 > 0:11:56by screaming, "Fuck off!"
0:12:00 > 0:12:03The police eventually confiscated the bird
0:12:03 > 0:12:06in the interests of public order.
0:12:08 > 0:12:10DOGS BARK
0:12:10 > 0:12:14This area was one of the gateways from the docks
0:12:14 > 0:12:18and a main city thoroughfare to the Bogside.
0:12:19 > 0:12:23It would much later be called Checkpoint Charlie -
0:12:23 > 0:12:26the last point of control from which the British Army
0:12:26 > 0:12:31launched their patrols into what became known as Free Derry.
0:12:33 > 0:12:35But that was all in the future.
0:12:37 > 0:12:40And we never paid much heed to what the future held.
0:12:40 > 0:12:44Life was the here and now, with little chance of change.
0:12:48 > 0:12:50BOYS SHOUT AND CHATTER
0:13:28 > 0:13:33Every Wednesday, cattle were bundled off boats from Scotland
0:13:33 > 0:13:36and herded through the city streets past my house
0:13:36 > 0:13:40on their way to the abattoir, to the left, on William Street.
0:13:43 > 0:13:45When they passed my house,
0:13:45 > 0:13:48they usually picked up the fatal whiff of the slaughterhouse
0:13:48 > 0:13:52and were not best pleased at their immediate prospects.
0:13:52 > 0:13:55They would then usually bolt in the opposite direction,
0:13:55 > 0:13:58to the right, pursued by loud men with sticks.
0:13:58 > 0:14:01MEN SHOUT
0:14:01 > 0:14:04The cattle would often come face-to-face with a number of horses
0:14:04 > 0:14:08that were tethered outside my friend's door.
0:14:08 > 0:14:10HORSE WHINNIES
0:14:10 > 0:14:14Also present would be a number of small electric vans
0:14:14 > 0:14:19belonging to the adjacent Brewster's Bakery, buzzing about the vicinity.
0:14:23 > 0:14:29The stampeding cattle, the rearing and neighing of large horses,
0:14:29 > 0:14:32the peeps of the electrical beeps from the battered vans,
0:14:32 > 0:14:36created a wonderful confusion that was a joy to witness.
0:14:41 > 0:14:45Later on, my mates and I would climb into Brewster's yards
0:14:45 > 0:14:49to unplug the vans from their electric chargers.
0:14:49 > 0:14:52We would drive them about inside the large garage
0:14:52 > 0:14:56and then carefully reconnect them to the electricity supply.
0:15:01 > 0:15:02And so to bed,
0:15:02 > 0:15:08dreaming of drovers, cattle, mad horses,
0:15:08 > 0:15:11frenzied vans and no harm done.
0:15:12 > 0:15:13BICYCLE BELL RINGS
0:15:17 > 0:15:21Outside my front door was, for all to see,
0:15:21 > 0:15:25a life force and a vitality to be reckoned with.
0:15:25 > 0:15:27But a person had to be open to appreciate it.
0:15:29 > 0:15:34Our future tragedy, just about to unfold, was that all this richness
0:15:34 > 0:15:39was trampled over and regarded as worthless.
0:15:48 > 0:15:52As a people, we roamed freely between Derry
0:15:52 > 0:15:54and neighbouring County Donegal.
0:15:54 > 0:15:57But with the division of Ireland under partition,
0:15:57 > 0:16:01Donegal was now, technically, part of another country.
0:16:04 > 0:16:06This didn't feel right.
0:16:06 > 0:16:10Many people had long-standing family and spiritual connections
0:16:10 > 0:16:15to what was generally, romantically thought of as a magical place,
0:16:15 > 0:16:19a place of high kings, fleeing earls,
0:16:19 > 0:16:22banshees and buttermilk.
0:16:23 > 0:16:27Fondly though it was regarded in the hearts of dreamers,
0:16:27 > 0:16:29the reality of everyday life
0:16:29 > 0:16:33often stood in stark contrast to the fairytale.
0:16:34 > 0:16:40My mother, born in Donegal, had her first taste of white slavery
0:16:40 > 0:16:44when she was sold at the Hiring Fair in Derry in the early '20s.
0:16:46 > 0:16:52It was called "the rabbles" and endured until the '30s.
0:16:52 > 0:16:57To get there, she walked barefoot 14 miles,
0:16:57 > 0:17:01carrying a small bundle, which contained her earthly possessions.
0:17:03 > 0:17:06She took her place in line after threading her way
0:17:06 > 0:17:11through a crowded square within Derry's walls, called the Diamond.
0:17:11 > 0:17:14She was there examined by potential employers,
0:17:14 > 0:17:18mostly fat, ruddy-faced farmers.
0:17:18 > 0:17:22Once accepted, her bundle was confiscated
0:17:22 > 0:17:26and she was told to stand beside a particular horse and cart.
0:17:27 > 0:17:31This she did for seven hours until her new mentor returned drunk,
0:17:31 > 0:17:35heaved her aboard and set off for a destination
0:17:35 > 0:17:38that he did not think worthwhile to reveal to her.
0:17:41 > 0:17:44She was worked hard under brutal conditions.
0:17:45 > 0:17:51She wasn't permitted to sit down between the hours of 6am and 8pm,
0:17:51 > 0:17:55except when milking cows and even ate standing up.
0:17:57 > 0:18:00All her life, she harboured an acquired resentment
0:18:00 > 0:18:04of all forms of authority, not a particularly bitter resentment,
0:18:04 > 0:18:08but a knowing mild resentment that she took with her to her grave.
0:18:10 > 0:18:14I remember walking with her, hand in hand,
0:18:14 > 0:18:15when we came across the sight
0:18:15 > 0:18:19of grown men dropping to one knee in the street
0:18:19 > 0:18:23to kiss the ring of the portly and haughty Catholic Bishop of Derry,
0:18:23 > 0:18:26who often took the air of an evening,
0:18:26 > 0:18:29patrolling the hovels of the faithful.
0:18:30 > 0:18:34She bent down and whispered in my ear.
0:18:34 > 0:18:37"Look at those fools!" she said.
0:18:48 > 0:18:54My father ran away to war when he was 16 years old.
0:18:54 > 0:18:56He was on Eamon de Valera's side
0:18:56 > 0:19:01and fought with the anti-treaty forces during the Irish Civil War.
0:19:04 > 0:19:07De Valera was a romantic figure to some,
0:19:07 > 0:19:10but aloof and guarded to others.
0:19:13 > 0:19:18Hero of the Irish Revolution, New York-born and Cuban-Irish,
0:19:18 > 0:19:22my father idolised him and could barely believe it
0:19:22 > 0:19:25when he heard that De Valera was coming to Derry.
0:19:27 > 0:19:31He was so excited that, when the day dawned,
0:19:31 > 0:19:34he washed me himself.
0:19:39 > 0:19:43He spoke of him in hushed tones.
0:19:44 > 0:19:47"There he is now! (There he is!)"
0:19:53 > 0:19:58The people were ecstatic and it's hard now to figure out why.
0:19:58 > 0:20:00Everybody turned out wearing their finest.
0:20:00 > 0:20:05Fancy schoolgirls' bows were orchestrated by the nuns.
0:20:05 > 0:20:08Normally sensible men marched in formation,
0:20:08 > 0:20:11probably for the first time in their lives.
0:20:11 > 0:20:15There was a Walter Mitty air about the occasion.
0:20:15 > 0:20:17It was an over-appropriate welcome
0:20:17 > 0:20:20for someone whom we felt should like us
0:20:20 > 0:20:22and we so wanted to be liked.
0:20:24 > 0:20:29Although there were flurries of republicanism during the '50s,
0:20:29 > 0:20:32the general feeling was that the die was cast.
0:20:34 > 0:20:39We were ruled by a Unionist government that openly despised us.
0:20:40 > 0:20:42Nothing was going to change that.
0:20:42 > 0:20:45Nor did most people identify with the South,
0:20:45 > 0:20:50already sinking under the weight of Church rule and economic inertia.
0:20:51 > 0:20:54De Valera was a hero all right,
0:20:54 > 0:20:57but one who was fast asleep on the job.
0:20:57 > 0:21:01I suppose it was a day of what might have been.
0:21:03 > 0:21:05The cold reality was that
0:21:05 > 0:21:09Derry people didn't identify with Northern Ireland,
0:21:09 > 0:21:11nor was the Republic attractive,
0:21:11 > 0:21:15because most of the women working in the shirt factories
0:21:15 > 0:21:16had willingly fled from it.
0:21:18 > 0:21:23Derry was, in many ways, an independent statelet.
0:21:25 > 0:21:28Like Monaco, without the money.
0:21:34 > 0:21:36So why not have a day out to pay homage
0:21:36 > 0:21:38to a stumbling relic of what might have been?
0:21:40 > 0:21:42My father grinned non-stop.
0:21:42 > 0:21:46He'd earned his day in the sun.
0:21:47 > 0:21:52MUSIC: Mambo No 5 by Perez Prado
0:21:53 > 0:21:56We usually had five or six factory girls
0:21:56 > 0:22:00from the surrounding countryside lodging in our house.
0:22:00 > 0:22:02There was no keeping them down on the farm
0:22:02 > 0:22:05when the dance halls were jumping every night.
0:22:05 > 0:22:08SONG CONTINUES
0:22:45 > 0:22:49My mother fed and looked after the girls.
0:22:49 > 0:22:53I regarded them almost as sisters.
0:22:53 > 0:22:57Nor was there any hanky-panky under our roof.
0:22:57 > 0:22:59None of their transient boyfriends
0:22:59 > 0:23:02got as much as a toe across the threshold.
0:23:04 > 0:23:07Not that rules had been laid down,
0:23:07 > 0:23:11it just never seemed to have occurred to the girls.
0:23:14 > 0:23:19In total, in our house lived six or seven young girls,
0:23:19 > 0:23:22an elderly lady named Rose,
0:23:22 > 0:23:26who covered everything she owned with brown paper,
0:23:26 > 0:23:29two spinster sisters from Fermanagh
0:23:29 > 0:23:34and a uniformed serving petty officer of the British Navy,
0:23:34 > 0:23:37whom I used to salute when we passed on the stairs.
0:23:39 > 0:23:43There was usually no place for me at the first sitting for dinner,
0:23:43 > 0:23:45but I loved it.
0:23:47 > 0:23:51We also kept two bus drivers called Fred and Ernie.
0:23:52 > 0:23:55Names that don't seem to be used much any more.
0:23:59 > 0:24:02These two quiet single men in their thirties
0:24:02 > 0:24:08had slicked-back short hair and were enthusiastic chain smokers.
0:24:21 > 0:24:27They wore long, heavy, double-breasted, belted overcoats,
0:24:27 > 0:24:33overcoats with big, roomy pockets that jingled with loose change,
0:24:33 > 0:24:38a penny or two for the likes of me, a rogue bar of chocolate
0:24:38 > 0:24:40and a handful of boiled sweets.
0:24:45 > 0:24:48I always thought of them as the kind of men
0:24:48 > 0:24:51who were the first to be killed in wars.
0:24:52 > 0:24:57There was an innocence, solidness and a decency about them.
0:24:59 > 0:25:01It was within Fred and Ernie's nature
0:25:01 > 0:25:05to always do the decent thing. Their instinct was
0:25:05 > 0:25:09to look after one another in small ways on a daily basis.
0:25:12 > 0:25:15That seems to happen less these days.
0:25:32 > 0:25:38Out on the street, sex was for sale, but only the ugly took part.
0:25:40 > 0:25:42A number of ladies of the night
0:25:42 > 0:25:44serviced the sailors and the misfits.
0:25:45 > 0:25:48They took advantage of the natural shelter provided
0:25:48 > 0:25:52by a building outcrop at the top of our street.
0:25:53 > 0:25:58I was often sent out with a Delft bowl to the local chipper.
0:25:58 > 0:26:02The journey back and forth revealed the wild side of life.
0:26:03 > 0:26:07On the short journey back from the chipper, I would chat with
0:26:07 > 0:26:12the hookers and felt obliged to distribute a chip or two.
0:26:12 > 0:26:16I liked the girls and appreciated the rigours of their work.
0:26:18 > 0:26:22Returning home with far fewer chips than I should have,
0:26:22 > 0:26:24I would hear from my mother's sainted mouth
0:26:24 > 0:26:29words that probably few children hear during their childhood years.
0:26:29 > 0:26:32"Have you been feeding those prostitutes again?!"
0:26:35 > 0:26:37But when daylight and the working day came,
0:26:37 > 0:26:41the hookers and the sailors were gone.
0:26:50 > 0:26:55200 yards from our front door was the Guildhall Square.
0:26:58 > 0:27:02A selection of the great and good were paraded through the streets.
0:27:02 > 0:27:04They all seemed to come from a life
0:27:04 > 0:27:07that was a million miles away from our existence.
0:27:09 > 0:27:11There was a resentment there.
0:27:11 > 0:27:13Not that we envied them.
0:27:13 > 0:27:16They weren't our type of people.
0:27:16 > 0:27:19And indeed, it didn't seem like much fun.
0:27:22 > 0:27:25But, for me, the most interesting visitor
0:27:25 > 0:27:29was someone who hadn't planned on visiting us at all.
0:27:29 > 0:27:34Amelia Earhart took off from Newfoundland
0:27:34 > 0:27:36in a scarlet Lockheed Vega
0:27:36 > 0:27:41in a bid to accomplish what no woman had managed before -
0:27:41 > 0:27:43a solo flight from America to Europe.
0:27:45 > 0:27:48In a man's world, she was a leader.
0:27:48 > 0:27:52Little did she know that she was about to land in a place
0:27:52 > 0:27:54where women were in charge.
0:27:55 > 0:27:59She endured the sight of flames licking from her engine
0:27:59 > 0:28:03and, when she felt aviation fuel dripping down her neck,
0:28:03 > 0:28:07she wisely sought somewhere to land, and quick.
0:28:10 > 0:28:13Thus, Amelia Earhart dropped from the sky
0:28:13 > 0:28:17and landed in a field on the outskirts of an unsuspecting Derry.
0:28:18 > 0:28:22When Amelia landed, she was approached by a local.
0:28:22 > 0:28:25"Where am I?" she naturally inquired.
0:28:25 > 0:28:29"You're in Gallagher's field!" replied the local
0:28:29 > 0:28:33in a tone that indicated that Miss Earhart should've known that.
0:28:35 > 0:28:39It's hard to imagine what an equivalent surprise would be today.
0:28:39 > 0:28:42Perhaps the arrival of an alien spacecraft
0:28:42 > 0:28:45piloted by an exotic creature.
0:28:46 > 0:28:49Exotic was just what Amelia Earhart was
0:28:49 > 0:28:52to the crowds who flocked to greet her.
0:28:52 > 0:28:58Tall, slim, healthy, athletic, photogenic
0:28:58 > 0:29:00and beautiful in a tomboyish way.
0:29:07 > 0:29:10Out of the blue she had dropped.
0:29:10 > 0:29:16A specimen of what women in Ireland would not dare to even aspire to
0:29:16 > 0:29:19for at least another 30 to 40 years.
0:29:21 > 0:29:26And she alone, with her own aeroplane.
0:29:31 > 0:29:34AIR RAID SIREN
0:29:45 > 0:29:49I was a baby when the Luftwaffe came to bomb Derry.
0:29:50 > 0:29:51I was too young to stop it.
0:29:52 > 0:29:56When the sirens sounded, I lay helpless in my cot.
0:29:56 > 0:29:58SIREN BLARES
0:29:58 > 0:30:02People in the immediate vicinity seldom used the air raid shelter
0:30:02 > 0:30:05at the bottom of our street, mainly because they didn't want
0:30:05 > 0:30:10to disturb the young lovers who occupied it on a regular basis.
0:30:12 > 0:30:15The long, hard battle for the Atlantic
0:30:15 > 0:30:17was supplied from Derry's port
0:30:17 > 0:30:22and it was to here that the lethal North Atlantic German U-boat fleet
0:30:22 > 0:30:25silently filed in to surrender.
0:30:27 > 0:30:28The man in the street was allowed
0:30:28 > 0:30:32to board these submarines and savour the victory,
0:30:32 > 0:30:36but most were there mainly to nick themselves a souvenir.
0:30:38 > 0:30:42For 26 years, a magnificent bronze German eagle
0:30:42 > 0:30:46with a swastika emblazoned on its wooden base
0:30:46 > 0:30:49proudly stood on top of a piano in our front room.
0:30:49 > 0:30:54There it remained until the IRA decided to blow up our house.
0:30:54 > 0:30:56EXPLOSION
0:30:59 > 0:31:02The bomb was duly placed on the ground floor.
0:31:02 > 0:31:09Directly above was our front room containing the eagle and my mother.
0:31:11 > 0:31:14The subsequent blast sent the eagle through the roof.
0:31:15 > 0:31:19My mother was uninjured apart from a temporary loss of hearing,
0:31:19 > 0:31:22but for the rest of her life I noticed
0:31:22 > 0:31:26that she no longer appreciated surprises.
0:31:29 > 0:31:32The IRA blew up our house by mistake.
0:31:32 > 0:31:36At least, when Hitler bombed Derry, he knew what he was doing.
0:31:42 > 0:31:45Imagine what went through these young boys' heads...
0:31:47 > 0:31:50..as they trained on the banks of our own River Foyle,
0:31:50 > 0:31:54on the very beach where I now walk my dog.
0:31:56 > 0:32:00It was a long way from the open farmlands of the Midwest
0:32:00 > 0:32:04to the beaches of Normandy and Iwo Jima.
0:32:07 > 0:32:101940s MUSIC PLAYS
0:32:10 > 0:32:14Later, as a teenager, I lived in fear of a NATO fleet
0:32:14 > 0:32:19taking their annual break from exercises in the North Atlantic.
0:32:20 > 0:32:24Thousands of marauding sailors of many nationalities
0:32:24 > 0:32:31roamed the streets, hungry for strong drink, blood and women,
0:32:31 > 0:32:33usually in that order.
0:32:33 > 0:32:37By then, we had our own American base
0:32:37 > 0:32:42in which lived what we called the local Americans.
0:32:42 > 0:32:46Yanks who spent their time monitoring nuclear submarines
0:32:46 > 0:32:48in the North Atlantic.
0:32:48 > 0:32:53They had constructed for themselves an in-house micro-America.
0:32:53 > 0:32:58Here, my eyes first fell upon automatic lawn sprinklers,
0:32:58 > 0:33:01coffee that didn't make you want to puke,
0:33:01 > 0:33:04beer that didn't come down your nose,
0:33:04 > 0:33:10pizzas, high-fives, real hamburgers, soda fountains
0:33:10 > 0:33:12and women wearing stretch pants.
0:33:14 > 0:33:16And all this while,
0:33:16 > 0:33:20outside the starred-and-striped gates of their base
0:33:20 > 0:33:23lay a dull, sluggish city,
0:33:23 > 0:33:27awash with spindly-legged undernourished males,
0:33:27 > 0:33:33dreaming of a job, gathering at crumbling street corners,
0:33:33 > 0:33:35spitting on the pavement,
0:33:35 > 0:33:39sucking on almost invisible dog ends of Woodbine cigarettes
0:33:39 > 0:33:45and subsisting on a hearty diet of spuds, mincemeat,
0:33:45 > 0:33:48pigs feet, baps and sticky buns.
0:33:49 > 0:33:52We quietly observed the Yanks roaring past us
0:33:52 > 0:33:57in imported Chryslers and mightily-finned Thunderbirds.
0:33:57 > 0:34:00We thought it all very unfair.
0:34:00 > 0:34:04Even though they introduced us to things we liked,
0:34:04 > 0:34:07such as real guitars and American pop records,
0:34:07 > 0:34:13and, even though we liked the Yanks, we still thought, "Those bastards!"
0:34:14 > 0:34:17CHORAL SINGING
0:34:28 > 0:34:32Where I lived was overwhelmingly Catholic.
0:34:32 > 0:34:36People were eagerly groomed by a Catholic Church
0:34:36 > 0:34:40on the hunt for souls and influence.
0:34:41 > 0:34:46The annual retreat was the Catholic Nuremberg Rally.
0:34:46 > 0:34:49Redemptorist fathers, Ecumenical gunslingers
0:34:49 > 0:34:51fired off bloodthirsty tales
0:34:51 > 0:34:55full of pain, fire and, of course, brimstone,
0:34:55 > 0:34:59reminding us of the extreme pain to be endured in Hell
0:34:59 > 0:35:02should we buck the system.
0:35:02 > 0:35:06We were not encouraged to doubt or question.
0:35:06 > 0:35:11We were too busy anyway confessing our sins in wooden boxes
0:35:11 > 0:35:13and dozing off during the interminable high masses
0:35:13 > 0:35:14conducted in Latin.
0:35:18 > 0:35:22But we knew that Jesus loved us.
0:35:22 > 0:35:25MUSIC: Ecce Sacerdos Magnus, Wab 13
0:35:29 > 0:35:33I eventually ended up in the cathedral choir.
0:35:35 > 0:35:37On certain ceremonial occasions,
0:35:37 > 0:35:41the Bishop of Derry was required to make a grand entrance
0:35:41 > 0:35:47accompanied by the choir belting out the chorale Ecce Sacerdos.
0:35:47 > 0:35:50This was his signature tune.
0:35:50 > 0:35:53The choir stood poised in the balcony,
0:35:53 > 0:35:56the Bishop entered directly below us.
0:35:56 > 0:36:00A priest planted on the altar would signal the choirmaster
0:36:00 > 0:36:02when the Bishop was about to enter.
0:36:02 > 0:36:05The choirmaster, his back to the altar,
0:36:05 > 0:36:08would receive the signal through wing mirrors
0:36:08 > 0:36:12thoughtfully provided on the sides of the church organ.
0:36:12 > 0:36:16Hand signals executed, organ pumped,
0:36:16 > 0:36:19choir screeching the Bishop's signature tune,
0:36:19 > 0:36:22the puffed-up prelate would stride confidently
0:36:22 > 0:36:25through the gathered faithful,
0:36:25 > 0:36:28allowing a selected few to lightly touch his garments.
0:36:30 > 0:36:32I thought to myself...
0:36:32 > 0:36:34"This isn't religion!
0:36:34 > 0:36:36"This is show business!"
0:36:36 > 0:36:38HYMN CONTINUES
0:36:42 > 0:36:46I believed I was the only person who thought that way, although I'm sure
0:36:46 > 0:36:50there were one or two other heretics putting a brave face on it.
0:36:54 > 0:36:56The Bogside was probably
0:36:56 > 0:36:59the most Irish neighbourhood in Northern Ireland,
0:36:59 > 0:37:01a veritable land that time forgot.
0:37:03 > 0:37:06A chunk of Thackeray's Ireland that somehow clung on.
0:37:07 > 0:37:10Originally occupied by the poor from Donegal,
0:37:10 > 0:37:13who came to the city in search of any kind of work,
0:37:13 > 0:37:18until the Troubles, the area retained a unique identity.
0:37:19 > 0:37:23Things were always on the boil, and no wonder.
0:37:23 > 0:37:30Within 400 yards of any given spot were 40 bars, six band sheds,
0:37:30 > 0:37:34boxing clubs, four doss-houses,
0:37:34 > 0:37:40rag stores and an assortment of boys' clubs, a distillery,
0:37:40 > 0:37:44not to mention a population of pigs, sheep, a slaughterhouse
0:37:44 > 0:37:46and six football teams.
0:37:52 > 0:37:56Most Irish of all was the fact that everybody had nicknames.
0:37:56 > 0:38:01This was part of the last traces of an Irish oral tradition,
0:38:01 > 0:38:05lingering from ancestral days in Donegal,
0:38:05 > 0:38:08a tradition that the coming Troubles would inevitably see off.
0:38:12 > 0:38:18The likes of Ned the Chronicle, Dan the Blinker, Stucco Virgin
0:38:18 > 0:38:23and Scriffin-tail McDermott gone forever.
0:38:25 > 0:38:30At the cruder end of the scale resided Cock Coyle, Mickey No Arse,
0:38:30 > 0:38:37Fart McDade and a man who the women referred to as Hughie Bad Word,
0:38:37 > 0:38:40so-called because of his lack of vocabulary.
0:38:40 > 0:38:43His name, of course, was Hughie Fuck.
0:38:44 > 0:38:46GULLS CALL
0:38:48 > 0:38:50Nicknames survived amongst the dockers,
0:38:50 > 0:38:52who used them in their pay books.
0:38:52 > 0:38:55Since many of them shared the same family name,
0:38:55 > 0:38:58it helped ease the confusion.
0:38:58 > 0:39:00Well, almost.
0:39:05 > 0:39:07I can testify to this,
0:39:07 > 0:39:11as I once had the dangerous job of calculating their wages.
0:39:13 > 0:39:17Money for working in the rain, money for early starts,
0:39:17 > 0:39:22late starts, night working, double shifts.
0:39:22 > 0:39:27I was 18 years old and invariably got their wages wrong.
0:39:27 > 0:39:31Payday came Thursday lunchtime, followed by pub time,
0:39:31 > 0:39:35followed by angry dockers short on their wages
0:39:35 > 0:39:38patrolling the streets and bars looking for the pay clerk
0:39:38 > 0:39:41who'd got it wrong again.
0:39:41 > 0:39:42That was me.
0:39:43 > 0:39:46I learnt to make myself scarce.
0:39:46 > 0:39:50Thursday afternoon, I retired to the local cinema for my own safety.
0:39:53 > 0:39:55Tough men didn't like me for it.
0:39:55 > 0:39:59As they unloaded the ship's cargo, they never missed an opportunity,
0:39:59 > 0:40:01often swinging the crane hook at me
0:40:01 > 0:40:04when I patrolled the deck of the ship.
0:40:04 > 0:40:06Then would come a sudden warning shout
0:40:06 > 0:40:09which prompted me to duck sharply.
0:40:09 > 0:40:12I complained about this to my boss -
0:40:12 > 0:40:14"Those fuckers are trying to kill me."
0:40:16 > 0:40:20He looked over his glasses. "Do they warn you?" he said.
0:40:20 > 0:40:25"Well, yes," I reluctantly replied.
0:40:25 > 0:40:31He turned back to his newspaper and said, "Worry when they don't."
0:41:05 > 0:41:09The streets were occupied by urgent marching feet,
0:41:09 > 0:41:16Laurel and Hardy bowler hats, ceremonial swords and lurid sashes.
0:41:16 > 0:41:19Banners fluttering from lofty poles
0:41:19 > 0:41:23commemorated centuries-old deeds that I knew nothing about.
0:41:24 > 0:41:27Although it was an unrelenting affirmation
0:41:27 > 0:41:30of superiority and supremacy,
0:41:30 > 0:41:34I could look past the posturing because I liked the music.
0:41:35 > 0:41:39But the marching musicians were a mixed bag.
0:41:39 > 0:41:43Some seemed joyless, others appeared angry,
0:41:43 > 0:41:46and yet others in a kind of frenzy.
0:41:46 > 0:41:48It was a stern kind of fun.
0:41:55 > 0:41:58One of the sword carriers struck me forcibly
0:41:58 > 0:42:01on my exposed short-trousered leg
0:42:01 > 0:42:04for momentarily stepping off the footpath.
0:42:04 > 0:42:09This affected me greatly, causing my resignation from parade watching.
0:42:12 > 0:42:16I retreated to the cinema, where I found real heroes.
0:42:16 > 0:42:19GUNFIRE
0:42:19 > 0:42:21Heroes like Burt Lancaster.
0:42:23 > 0:42:26Men who did what men had to do.
0:42:33 > 0:42:37Lone plains drifters who sought to escape a troubled past.
0:42:37 > 0:42:41Men who knew no other way than to be true to themselves.
0:42:41 > 0:42:44- Where's Owen? - Went with Lee over to the telegraph.
0:42:44 > 0:42:45GUNFIRE
0:42:45 > 0:42:49- You hear that? Somebody's in trouble. - Take some men and go see.
0:42:49 > 0:42:52And these cowboys sounded vaguely familiar too,
0:42:52 > 0:42:55sounded like my elderly uncles in Donegal,
0:42:55 > 0:42:57who called their horses "hosses"
0:42:57 > 0:43:01and talked of "vittles" and "critters" too.
0:43:01 > 0:43:04Go around the other side. Try to sneak up behind him. I'll cover you.
0:43:06 > 0:43:10It took some time for me to realise that my uncles spoke that way
0:43:10 > 0:43:14because their people before them had been weaned off the Irish language
0:43:14 > 0:43:19and had learned their English mostly from Ulster Scots planters.
0:43:20 > 0:43:23Imagine how surprised I was
0:43:23 > 0:43:26when I learnt that Burt Lancaster was an Ulster Scot.
0:43:34 > 0:43:38You can hear the hard-clipped cadences of a Belfast accent.
0:43:38 > 0:43:40He had spent his childhood in New York,
0:43:40 > 0:43:44surrounded by his Belfast-born extended family.
0:43:51 > 0:43:53I finally realised that
0:43:53 > 0:43:57the very qualities I admired in the likes of Burt Lancaster -
0:43:57 > 0:44:02the unwillingness to compromise, the iron determination
0:44:02 > 0:44:07and the unyielding conviction - those were the same engines
0:44:07 > 0:44:11that fired the marchers outside on the streets.
0:44:12 > 0:44:14These were the same people.
0:44:14 > 0:44:17I always could outdraw you, Owen.
0:44:17 > 0:44:20I'll spot you, then. But it won't change anything.
0:44:20 > 0:44:21Come on out.
0:44:22 > 0:44:24Or do I have to come in and get you?
0:44:24 > 0:44:28No wonder the cowboys and Indians didn't get along.
0:44:39 > 0:44:42St Patrick's Day, 1952.
0:44:44 > 0:44:47Just to the right of this photograph, above the spectators,
0:44:47 > 0:44:51I am a seven-year-old boy staring out of my upstairs window.
0:44:58 > 0:45:02Until recently, when I was shown this photograph,
0:45:02 > 0:45:05I wasn't sure if I had actually witnessed this or not.
0:45:05 > 0:45:10It's a photo of a friend of mine being attacked by the police.
0:45:10 > 0:45:11She's 13 years old.
0:45:16 > 0:45:18I wasn't sure if I'd seen this or not
0:45:18 > 0:45:20because I didn't believe it at the time
0:45:20 > 0:45:23and the shock seemed to partially erase it from my mind.
0:45:25 > 0:45:27Why would the police attack children with such force
0:45:27 > 0:45:29for no apparent reason?
0:45:31 > 0:45:34Only years later did it become clear
0:45:34 > 0:45:38that the raised baton was the accepted method of keeping in line
0:45:38 > 0:45:41the poorly educated and the naive young.
0:45:43 > 0:45:46But how would police handle educated people?
0:45:46 > 0:45:48Time would tell.
0:45:48 > 0:45:52CHORAL MUSIC
0:45:58 > 0:46:01This scene was a harbinger of things to come.
0:46:04 > 0:46:09And 1969 simmered in the distance.
0:46:21 > 0:46:25We will be able to feed up that day with all of God's children,
0:46:25 > 0:46:30black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics
0:46:30 > 0:46:33will be able to join hands and sing
0:46:33 > 0:46:36- in the words of the old negro spiritual, "Free at last."- Yes!
0:46:36 > 0:46:40"Free at last! Thank God Almighty, we are free at last!"
0:46:40 > 0:46:42CHEERING
0:46:46 > 0:46:47Hallelujah!
0:46:51 > 0:46:53These were interesting times.
0:46:55 > 0:46:57The tectonic plates were shifting.
0:46:57 > 0:47:01Mr Burt Lancaster.
0:47:01 > 0:47:04And here he is again, the Belfast cowboy,
0:47:04 > 0:47:08this time seeming to speak directly to us.
0:47:11 > 0:47:14We recognise that it is not only in America
0:47:14 > 0:47:18that the battle for freedom and dignity of peoples is being waged.
0:47:18 > 0:47:23The struggle toward freedom on the part of the previously subjugated
0:47:23 > 0:47:27is occurring in capitals and villages all over the world.
0:47:27 > 0:47:31It is on our awareness of what this struggle means
0:47:31 > 0:47:34and in the degree of our dedication to it
0:47:34 > 0:47:39that our futures and the future of the world depend.
0:47:41 > 0:47:43APPLAUSE
0:47:45 > 0:47:50John Fitzgerald Kennedy - in our eyes, practically an Irishman -
0:47:50 > 0:47:55was President of the United States. Doors seemed to be opening.
0:47:56 > 0:47:57For the first time,
0:47:57 > 0:48:03people felt they had access to the means of achieving their dreams.
0:48:03 > 0:48:07But for all that, the assassination of Kennedy later that year
0:48:07 > 0:48:09brought home to us that wherever there was light,
0:48:09 > 0:48:11darkness wasn't far behind.
0:48:14 > 0:48:17Because these were also ugly times.
0:48:17 > 0:48:22Nevertheless, people felt that power was drifting their way,
0:48:22 > 0:48:23that they had a say.
0:48:25 > 0:48:29Dramatic pictures crashed in from the outside world.
0:48:29 > 0:48:33People doing stuff on the newsreels and on the TV set
0:48:33 > 0:48:37that I watched through the window of the local electrical shop.
0:48:39 > 0:48:41People rocking the boat!
0:48:42 > 0:48:45And then we had a TV of our own.
0:48:45 > 0:48:48Soon I recognised some of the people on the screen.
0:48:49 > 0:48:53Young local firebrands had more in common with Martin Luther King
0:48:53 > 0:48:54than with Eamon de Valera.
0:48:56 > 0:48:59People of my own age were on the streets, led by others,
0:48:59 > 0:49:03who were brighter, who had been to university and come back pissed off
0:49:03 > 0:49:07by what they had found out about the country they lived in.
0:49:08 > 0:49:12The total unionist vote in Londonderry is 9,000.
0:49:14 > 0:49:18And these votes put a total of 12 members in the City Council.
0:49:20 > 0:49:24The total nationalist vote is 14,000
0:49:24 > 0:49:27and these folks put in eight members.
0:49:28 > 0:49:31Now, note the curious situation.
0:49:31 > 0:49:35I didn't hit the streets. I was too scared.
0:49:35 > 0:49:38But I knew those who did and admired their pluck.
0:49:40 > 0:49:44It all seemed glorious, just and right.
0:49:44 > 0:49:47Nothing short of a people's revolution in the streets,
0:49:47 > 0:49:49involving, crucially, a number of Protestants
0:49:49 > 0:49:52who realised that something had to be done.
0:49:52 > 0:49:55I would certainly hope that in conducting this march
0:49:55 > 0:49:58that we will act in a responsible manner.
0:49:58 > 0:50:01I even saw my neighbours in their good suits,
0:50:01 > 0:50:04being reasonable with the authorities.
0:50:04 > 0:50:06But authority hit back
0:50:06 > 0:50:10and something had started that was never going to stop.
0:50:10 > 0:50:14The reasonable approach didn't seem to work.
0:50:14 > 0:50:18Those who didn't want any trouble were the first to get it.
0:50:20 > 0:50:24Firstly, bloodied heads, with worse to come.
0:50:24 > 0:50:25It happened very quickly.
0:50:26 > 0:50:30All too soon, it turned rotten.
0:50:31 > 0:50:35Unlike in Washington, where President Kennedy listened to
0:50:35 > 0:50:39and encouraged those who sought their civil rights,
0:50:39 > 0:50:44the powers that be here were mainly blind to the legitimacy
0:50:44 > 0:50:49of what was going on in the streets, creating a dangerous vacuum.
0:50:49 > 0:50:52Old sores were opened, old arguments revived.
0:50:52 > 0:50:57Aspirations that had been thought long dead had life in them still.
0:50:58 > 0:51:02The well-meaning and the just slipped quietly away.
0:51:02 > 0:51:07Streets emptied after dark and the nightmare began.
0:51:07 > 0:51:09Severe measures were called for.
0:51:09 > 0:51:12The British Army consulted the Empire manual
0:51:12 > 0:51:16and decided to do what had always been done,
0:51:16 > 0:51:20but they forgot that we were British too.
0:51:20 > 0:51:25They forgot about the all-seeing eye of television.
0:51:25 > 0:51:29Shadows lengthened and the descent into darkness began.
0:51:29 > 0:51:32All the fine words were left blowing in the wind.
0:51:32 > 0:51:35I didn't care much for what I saw
0:51:35 > 0:51:37and decided to defect to Canada.
0:51:46 > 0:51:49From 3,000 miles away,
0:51:49 > 0:51:54I saw that my people, and the streets, were still on television
0:51:54 > 0:51:56but the streets were on fire.
0:52:16 > 0:52:20# Cool wind blowing on the street tonight
0:52:20 > 0:52:23# Trying to turn a wrong to a right
0:52:27 > 0:52:32# I listen now but the words are gone
0:52:32 > 0:52:35# All the songs have been sung
0:52:37 > 0:52:41# Close your eyes
0:52:42 > 0:52:47# Close your eyes
0:52:47 > 0:52:49# And dream
0:52:53 > 0:52:56# When the flag goes down
0:52:57 > 0:53:01# There's no turning back for this town
0:53:02 > 0:53:06# Close your eyes
0:53:08 > 0:53:13# Close your eyes
0:53:13 > 0:53:16# And dream
0:53:20 > 0:53:23# Out on the streets
0:53:23 > 0:53:29# A city's dreaming
0:53:32 > 0:53:35# Out on the streets
0:53:35 > 0:53:41# A city's dreaming
0:53:42 > 0:53:47# Dreaming
0:53:59 > 0:54:02# Even in this darkest place
0:54:02 > 0:54:07# I close my eyes and see your face
0:54:11 > 0:54:13# Even in this darkest night
0:54:13 > 0:54:18# I'm reaching out and I'm searching for the light
0:54:19 > 0:54:24# Close your eyes
0:54:25 > 0:54:29# Close your eyes
0:54:30 > 0:54:32# And dream
0:54:38 > 0:54:41# Out on the streets
0:54:41 > 0:54:46# A city's dreaming
0:54:49 > 0:54:52# Out on the streets
0:54:52 > 0:54:58# A city's dreaming
0:54:59 > 0:55:04# Dreaming
0:55:05 > 0:55:13# Dreaming
0:55:45 > 0:55:50# Close your eyes
0:55:50 > 0:55:53# And dream. #
0:56:21 > 0:56:27As a child by the window, I couldn't have imagined what lay ahead.
0:56:33 > 0:56:36Today, I'm that same child...
0:56:37 > 0:56:41..looking out that same window
0:56:41 > 0:56:45upon a city that has often been declared down and out.
0:56:47 > 0:56:51Now I see a people with hope, energy and positivity in their hearts.
0:56:53 > 0:56:55I hope they're right.
0:56:58 > 0:57:03The past is behind us and the future holds out a helping hand.
0:57:07 > 0:57:10A fellow Derryman put it like this.
0:57:13 > 0:57:17"Human beings suffer, they torture one another,
0:57:17 > 0:57:20"they get hurt and get hard.
0:57:23 > 0:57:30"No poem or play or song can fully right a wrong inflicted or endured."
0:57:33 > 0:57:39History says, don't hope on this side of the grave
0:57:39 > 0:57:41But then, once in a lifetime
0:57:41 > 0:57:46The longed-for tidal wave of justice can rise up
0:57:46 > 0:57:48And hope and history rhyme.
0:57:50 > 0:57:55So hope for a great sea change on the far side of revenge
0:57:55 > 0:57:59Believe that a further shore is reachable from here.
0:57:59 > 0:58:04Believe in miracles and cures and healing wells.