Front line heroes deserve the gold, silver and bronze

THE CENTREPIECE of the front office in our Wexford town headquarters is one of those all-singing and all-dancing modern wonders of technology that tend to do everything. As well as catering for our printing, photocopying and scanning needs, I reckon this machine might also be capable of making me a cup of tea and a sandwich if I asked it nicely enough.

Directly to its left, on the wall below the clock, lies a framed image that I have been looking at more than ever before in recent days.

It’s a re-production of the front page from the very first edition of this newspaper, from January 8, 1853.

I have been eye-balling it for several reasons: admiration for those pioneers in the middle of the 19th century who got this particular show on the road; pride in what the newspaper has achieved in the many years since; determination to do whatever it takes to continue serving our readers through these difficult times.

And I have also found re-assurance, because the thought struck me that we have come through troubling periods in the past and always got the paper out on the streets: wars of various hues, both international and domestic, not to mention a variety of weather-related woes.

I learned a lot about the history of this newspaper back in 2003, when I worked alongside a now-retired colleague, Hilary Murphy, in the compilation of a souvenir supplement to mark its 150th anniversary.

It has been a key part of my life for as long as I care to remember. It started by submitting the Wexford C.B.S. school notes in 1987, and I began doing match reports for Phil Murphy one year later.

I’ll never forget the thrill of seeing my first byline, for a double bill of Rackard League hurling finals in Wexford Park.

I commenced doing work experience in the old office in High Street on every school break, and knew exactly what I wanted to do career-wise after completing my Leaving Cert. at the age of 16.

Two years later, with a thorough college grounding behind me from the foremost journalism course in the country at the time, I took the next step.

On August 15, 1991, just over three weeks before my 19th birthday, I began full-time employment with ‘The People’. I have been here ever since, and there’s no place else I’d rather work.

Being in this position affords me the opportunity - via this column - of conversing with our readers on a weekly basis, and it’s a privilege that I would never take lightly.

It offers me a public platform, and it’s why I want to say a heartfelt ‘thank you’ for parting with your €2.70 to purchase this paper.

In this time of crisis, the need for a trusted news source with a strong track record in serving the people of Wexford is more pronounced than ever before.

I have seen my colleagues go above and beyond the call of duty in recent days to bring you this edition. Rest assured, that’s the way it will be for the foreseeable future and, with your ongoing support, we won’t be found wanting.

Last week I resorted to some gallows humour in this column in order to convey our situation, and I hope that flippancy didn’t cause any offence when so many people are losing jobs and struggling.

We have to get through this very tough time in whatever way we can, and sometimes a bit of irony and laughter does no harm.

Every industry is feeling it, and let’s be clear here: it isn’t a competition to determine which one should get the most support.

And even if it was, we all know that the gold, silver and bronze medals would deservedly go to our front line health care workers anyway; what an incredible bunch of people, and we are so lucky to have them.

We’ll keep doing what we can here, and with a collective effort from everybody, we’ll get through this.

One final thought: I don’t believe for a second that it was pure coincidence that Mother’s Day brought the nicest weather of the year.

In my view, it was God’s gift to all the mammies and grannies, a thank you to them and a taster for brighter times ahead. I long for the day when children will be able to hug their grandparents again; when that happens, there won’t be a dry eye in the house.