Leave a stagelamp burning

It was with great sadness that I learned of the death of Mick Lally yesterday. He died, suddenly, at the age of 64.

For me, Mick Lally had always been Miley in Glenroe, "Ah, Holy God" and to be frank, there wasn't much there to talk about. It wasn't until I listened to him being interviewed one morning by Miriam O'Callaghan that I was surprised to learn a bit more about what I would soon see was truly fascinating character. I was subsequently lucky enough to hear him interviewed a second time, this time with Glenroe co-star, Mary McEvoy.

These interviews shed some light on the upbringing of Mick Lally. He was the child of a poor peasant farmer from the Mayo Gaeltacht. But for a relation in had sent money home from America, he never would have had the chance to go to secondary school. Listening to him speak, he never lost sight of that; how all of the opportunity in his life arose due to the quiet generosity of one man.

Fintan O'Toole writes an obituary today in the Irish Times, listing some of Lally's great achievements. Now most of the stuff happened before I was born, or I was too small or disinterested to take notice. The conclusion is that Lally was a giant of a man, both physically and metaphorically; but he was a quiet and humble giant. At sixty four, his death was far too sudden; sure, wasn't he due to be on stage next week. Like that, I only heard him being interviewed a few weeks ago, and he never mentioned dying.

My thoughts are with his family, and with those whom he loved, and who loved him. May he rest in peace.