We went from the final to the mortuary to see our father

WILLIE DORAN died in the early afternoon of November 29, 1970. He died in Wexford Park as four of his sons, 33 year-old Bill, 26 year-old Joe, 24 year-old Tony, and Colm, just 21, the baby of the family of five boys in total, played for Buffers Alley in the county senior hurling final. Willie Doran was 63 years old. A massive heart attack claimed him almost instantaneously. The game was never stopped. The Alley had the run on Shamrocks from early on in the game. Buffers Alley would claim their second Wexford senior title by a commanding 21 points. WE were told at half-time that he was after having a turn. He was obviously dead by then, but we weren’t told that. I actually saw a person being taken away on a stretcher past the back of the town goal during the first half. And then for some reason I turned around a second time, and I saw Pat Nolan, who was the Wexford goalie at that time. I saw Pat by the stretcher and it struck me that it was my father who was on the stretcher.

Pat was a cousin of ours and a close friend of my father. He realised that I had seen something, but he waved me away, and told me it was okay, to play ahead. He was brought to the hospital. The four of us were kept apart in the dressing room and I don’t remember talking to my brothers.

The club officials had talked amongst themselves at half-time about calling off the match, but they decided that the best thing was to go ahead, finish the game.

I’d say it was one of the best county finals I ever played in but, near the end we were so well ahead, and the interest in the game was gone. I found myself looking over at the officials on the sideline and I saw a neighbour of ours, Peter O’Brien, who was a teammate in my father’s playing days looking upset, throwing his arms in the air.

He was talking to my mother’s brother, John Walsh who had gone to the hospital with my father. John had come back into the ground.

I knew that was it at that stage. I knew my father was gone. In the dressing room we were told that he had died. There was no presentation of the cup or anything like that. It was just handed over to Pierie Butler, our captain. There was no big deal made of it.

The four of us got dressed and headed to the hospital. My father was there, still in his street clothes, lying there in the mortuary.

My mother wasn’t there. She very seldom went to matches. There were a good few people around him. He was lying there on a cold slab.

A neighbour went home from the game… Fr Tom Doyle… he broke the news to her.

When she saw him coming in the door she knew there was something wrong. She probably thought that one of us had got a serious injury in the game. She never got over it.

She died just over 13 months later, heart problems. She had been diagnosed a day or two before she died with a blockage in an artery, and she was being sent to hospital in Dublin.

She died the night before she was due to travel.