Galway Advertiser 1991/1991_10_31/GA_31101991_E1_010.pdf 

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G A L W A Y

A"TRUE GHOST STORY
f J "But. you know, the best ghost stories are the ones that are true". Nick was in an uncharacteristically solemn mood. We were sitting in the lounge. Nick had finished work and was relaxing with a glass of his favourite tipple, Williams and Humbert Port, with an "intimation" of brandy. "Something on your mind, Nick?", I asked him. We'd been talking about Hallowe'en and had in dotted the area round about. evitably got round to subject On the evening of the fourth of ghosts and other "hor day, after a supper of cold rors" of the season I had meat and salad, Emmett ask been making my U M I . - I ed Nick's uncle if he knew rather stupid jokes about anything about the ruined "plenty of friendly spirits in church that stood close to here anyway", but I notic the cliff. ed Nick was not showing Uncle James, who'd been much amusement. Clearly, chatting with Nick and Em there was something bother mett, suddenly sat up ing him. straight. "That's a "I'm sorry, Morgan, it's dangerous place. You'd be just that I can never think advised to stay away from about ghosts and there." Emmett innocently Hallowe'en and all that sort asked why. "You're a guest of thing without recalling here, Mr. Reilly, I don't what happened to a very have to offer you any good friend of mine about reasons." ten years ago. It's a "true" "Why not. Uncle?", ghost story, or at least it's asked Nick. "If you must the closest to one that's ever know, Fr. Fahey lives near happened to m e . " I could by and he doesn't like peo see he wanted to talk about ple poking their noses it so I said I would be very around there. Now, I don't interested in hearing a wish to speak of it "true" ghost story for a anymore." And with that he change. rose from his chair and bid This is Nick's tale pretty the two young man much as he told it to me. It goodnight. is, as you'll see, in Such a stern prohibition, conclusive in the way the of course, only increased the best supernatural tales are. curiosity of the two friends. That is. it may be a genuine Over the next few evenings supernatural incident, but Nick and Emmett made it then again there may be a their business to thoroughly perfectly natural explana explore the old church. It tion. Nick isn't sure, and was a typical ruined I'm certainly not. Anyway, medieval church, with a tall, this is the story arched east window and a rather nice early Romanes que doorway. The only unusual bit was the small carved figure of what look ed like a dog or cat at the join of the door-arch. Emmett. by the light of the bright moon, made a sketch of it. priest was revealed as he took a few steps forward. "I didn't mean to startle you. I'm Fr. Fahey and I saw a light. I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to leave." Both Nick and Emmett mumbled apologies and prepared to go. As they walked towards the doorway, however, they heard a rush of wind com ing from the graveyard. Fr. Fahey raised his hand and motioned for them to not to move. The noise increased in volume, as if a storm was blowing. But Nick looked up and saw with amazement that the sky was perfectly still, not a cloud was mov ing. Meanwhile, Emmett was staring in horror at the old priest who had started muttering words in a language neither of them had ever heard before. The wind increased in ferocity and now a faint whine, like some animal in pain, could be detected. As the two friends stood frozen in ter ror, Fr. Fahey rushed out the door... The whining at once changed to a sound like a dog howling and was carried on the raging wind. Fr. Fahey's voice could be heard loudly declaiming what sounded like a prayer or an incantation of some kind. Without thinking about the danger, Emmett rushed to the door. And then, Nick said, he scream ed like a man who'd just seen hell gape open in front of him. Nick ran to him just as he fainted... graveyard. Well, that's my "true" ghost story anyway." He paused and looked up, the old Nick back At breakfast, the postman again. "Another Williams drove up and told Nick's un and Humbert before you cle that Fr. Fahey had been go?" I laughed and walked found dead in the old with him to the bar. graveyard. "What was he Morgan O'Doherty. doing up there so late at night is what I'd like to know", the postman said, shaking his head. Nick said not a word and a few days later, when Emmett had recovered at bit, they bid farewell to Uncle James and returned to Galway. meanwhile, sat by a window in his room, sleepless and waiting for dawn. "That's it, Morgan. I don't know what happened that night. I think the old priest was talking Latin but then he was muttering so low I can't be entirely cer tain. I went to visit my un cle a few times after that but neither of us ever mention ed that evening. I think he knew we'd been out to the old church, but he never questioned me. He died a few years ago and was buried in that very same

That night, as they made their way home past the deserted graveyard around the church, they both heard unmistakable sounds of scuffling in the tall weeds that grew up round the few gravestones. Emmett shone his torch several times, but could see nothing and con cluded it was some small animal. The next night they returned. Emmett found it a wonderful scene for a wood cut he was planning. "It's like something out of a story by Le Fanu, isn't it?" Nick lounged on the big altar tomb in front of the east window. Suddenly a figure stood in the doorway. Em mett, who hadn't see it, con tinued sketching by moonlight, but Nick jumped up and cried out, "Who's there?" The unmistakable figure of an old, white-haired

So terrified was he that it was several minutes before he realised the wind had stopped blowing and a dead calm had descended. Gathering his strength, he picked Emmett up and halfcarried him out of the church and back to his un cle's house. The house was dark when they reached it, but as they pushed open the door, lights went on and Uncle James appeared at the head of the stairs. Nick decided to tell him that Emmett had fallen off the high wall that bound ed an old landlord's estate from his uncle's property. Hastily, after he had been given a large brandy, Em mett was put.to bed. Nick,

The "Old Galway"

column was mysteriously spirited this week away . . .

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There's a Se pU o n D mnc St. o i ik
S H O P P E R S Y o uC a n at t h e (Beside N o w Park in C o m f o r t C a r Park Station) Mill S t r e e t G a r d a

Ten years ago Nick and a friend of his - we'll call him Emmett Reilly - were visiting Nick's Uncle James who lived in an isolated part of County Clare in a big old farmhouse. Uncle James was a bit of a recluse and the only person he really had much to do with was a learn ed old priest. Fr. Fahey, who'd retired to live in a quiet cottage overlooking the Atlantic. The first few days pass ed without incident The two friends tramped the fields and walked along the shoreline. Nick with his binoculars watching the nesting gulls and Emmett sketching the old ruins that

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