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| Cathy Harkin |
by John Throne.
I see that there is now a street in Derry named after Cathy Harkin. I do not know if this is "official" in the eyes of the city. However that is not so much here or there, it is "official" in the history of Derry, it is inseparable from the hearts of all who knew and were influenced by Cathy. I was one of those. Cathy made my life immeasurably better. Inspiring me, teaching me, telling me off now and then when I deserved it. Thank you Cathy.
I have recently written a book called "We'll Take A Cup Of Kindness Yet". It covers my days in Derry my involvement in the civil rights movement and "The Bogside Uprising". Below is a short excerpt from this where I describe my visit to Cathy on the morning of October 6th and how on that morning my life was given direction, was changed for the better. How on that day outside Cathy's door on Butcher Street I drew conclusions that would guide me for the rest of my life. I weep here as I see this wonderful photo of Cathy. Thank you Cathy. *
Excerpt from "We'll Take A Cup Of Kindness Yet" By John Throne.
"The US civil rights movement had inspired a civil rights movement in Northern Ireland against the discrimination suffered by the Catholic minority there. A civil rights march was organised in Derry for 5th October 1968. The Northern Ireland police viciously attacked this march. This was recorded by a TV crew and within hours was being watched in millions of homes around the world. These events changed my own world. I vowed I would never again let the threat of a conflict with my family stop me from fighting for what I believed.
The next morning, 6th October 1968, I drove to Derry at the crack of dawn. It was Sunday and the roads were deserted. I drove fast. I was on my way to see Cathy Harkin, the secretary of the Derry Labour Party. Cathy lived on Butcher Street in the Catholic enclave inside the city walls. The roadway and sidewalks outside her door were littered with stones, rocks and broken bottles from the previous night’s battle with the police. I picked my way through this debris, this symbol that a new era had begun in the North.
Cathy was a smart, strong, combative, working class woman and one of the leaders of the Derry Labour Party. She spoke her mind and fought for her beliefs. She was a dedicated socialist. She also fought for women’s equality, she fought against the special oppression of women. She was a founder of the Women's Aid Centre. Cathy was a pioneer, a leader and a fighter. She would die young from cancer. This was a tragedy. I knew Cathy through my friend Dolores who lived in the Bogside, the main Catholic area of the city.
Cathy answered my knock with sleep in her eyes. She must have thought I was mad waking her up at that hour. But what I was feeling had been building in me for years and could not wait. Contrary to my usual politeness I did not even say hello. Instead I said, ‘Cathy I have to get involved in this.’ These were my exact words. Cathy gave me the date of the next meeting of the Derry Labour Party. I thanked her and let her get back to bed.
Before I left the sleeping city I drove over through the Fountain, the main Protestant enclave inside the city walls. The contrast was stark. There were no stones or rocks or broken bottles littering the streets and sidewalks. There had been no battle with the police in that area. I looked at the curtained windows and the closed doors and wondered what the people inside were thinking as they lay in their beds or made their breakfast. Did they realise that the events of the night before had changed their lives forever?
I knew they had changed mine. That morning at Cathy’s door on Butcher Street, inside the walled City of Derry, under the impact of the events of the day and night before, I found my role in the world, my place in the world. I found my bearings. From then on I would be a conscious, active fighter against injustice and to try to change things for the better. During the rest of my life the conclusion I came to that day would remain my guiding principle.
That conclusion was: Whenever I saw things that I thought were wrong I would speak out and try to organise against them; whenever I saw things that I thought were right I would speak out and try to organise for them. I would never again be a passive, inert member of society. Cathy helped me come to this conclusion. Thank You Cathy. I grieve that you are not here with us today.
* The Donegal Woman, the author's account of his grandmother's experience hired out to work under the Irish "Hiring Fair" system and We'll Take a Cup of Kindness Yet can be purchased here at Books.ie
"The US civil rights movement had inspired a civil rights movement in Northern Ireland against the discrimination suffered by the Catholic minority there. A civil rights march was organised in Derry for 5th October 1968. The Northern Ireland police viciously attacked this march. This was recorded by a TV crew and within hours was being watched in millions of homes around the world. These events changed my own world. I vowed I would never again let the threat of a conflict with my family stop me from fighting for what I believed.
The next morning, 6th October 1968, I drove to Derry at the crack of dawn. It was Sunday and the roads were deserted. I drove fast. I was on my way to see Cathy Harkin, the secretary of the Derry Labour Party. Cathy lived on Butcher Street in the Catholic enclave inside the city walls. The roadway and sidewalks outside her door were littered with stones, rocks and broken bottles from the previous night’s battle with the police. I picked my way through this debris, this symbol that a new era had begun in the North.
Cathy was a smart, strong, combative, working class woman and one of the leaders of the Derry Labour Party. She spoke her mind and fought for her beliefs. She was a dedicated socialist. She also fought for women’s equality, she fought against the special oppression of women. She was a founder of the Women's Aid Centre. Cathy was a pioneer, a leader and a fighter. She would die young from cancer. This was a tragedy. I knew Cathy through my friend Dolores who lived in the Bogside, the main Catholic area of the city.
Cathy answered my knock with sleep in her eyes. She must have thought I was mad waking her up at that hour. But what I was feeling had been building in me for years and could not wait. Contrary to my usual politeness I did not even say hello. Instead I said, ‘Cathy I have to get involved in this.’ These were my exact words. Cathy gave me the date of the next meeting of the Derry Labour Party. I thanked her and let her get back to bed.
Before I left the sleeping city I drove over through the Fountain, the main Protestant enclave inside the city walls. The contrast was stark. There were no stones or rocks or broken bottles littering the streets and sidewalks. There had been no battle with the police in that area. I looked at the curtained windows and the closed doors and wondered what the people inside were thinking as they lay in their beds or made their breakfast. Did they realise that the events of the night before had changed their lives forever?
I knew they had changed mine. That morning at Cathy’s door on Butcher Street, inside the walled City of Derry, under the impact of the events of the day and night before, I found my role in the world, my place in the world. I found my bearings. From then on I would be a conscious, active fighter against injustice and to try to change things for the better. During the rest of my life the conclusion I came to that day would remain my guiding principle.
That conclusion was: Whenever I saw things that I thought were wrong I would speak out and try to organise against them; whenever I saw things that I thought were right I would speak out and try to organise for them. I would never again be a passive, inert member of society. Cathy helped me come to this conclusion. Thank You Cathy. I grieve that you are not here with us today.
* The Donegal Woman, the author's account of his grandmother's experience hired out to work under the Irish "Hiring Fair" system and We'll Take a Cup of Kindness Yet can be purchased here at Books.ie
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