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16 comments
Around 1989 a group of us were sitting one night in The Burnaby we were about 18 or 19 years old. Ronnie Drew came in alone and sat at a table nearby. A few minutes later he came over to our table and asked if we minded if he joined us. we were a bit surprised but delighted and he sat down insisting on buying everyone a drink. He chatted away for hours and kept buying rounds and as some of my friends started to leave to go home eventually there was only me my girlfriend and Ronnie. I remember being so fascinated with his stories that I hardly noticed when she said she had to go home.I asked if it was ok if I stayed and talked to Mr.Drew to which he replied “call me Ronnie”. eventually there was only “Ronnie” and myself and an increasingly irate Barman left in the pub well past closing time.Ronnie had been telling me that he occasionally went for drinks with Richard Harris and Bono but they always had to go to The Blue light because Bono was so famous that they couldn’t be left alone in a regular pub. Ronnie sent me to the Bar as he had to “take a slash” The barman growled at me me “Look you I’ve told you more than once we are closing and you’re going to get barred” I told him Mr Drew sent me up for more drinks. As I sat down I said to Ronnie that the Barman was going to Bar me from the Pub.To which he replied “put him to the end of his f***in’ Tether!”
We stayed on for what seemed like an eternity and eventually Ronnie said he had to get home himself. We stumbled out of the pub past the fuming Barman who managed to get out a “Good night Ronnie” through clenched teeth.
Ronnie said he had to get his car even though he lived about 100 yards away.I told him was better to walk and we meandered up the road to his house.After a minute or two of hime searching his pockets for the halldoor key I managed to open the front door for him.I put the keys in his jacket pocket closing the door and winded down the road to my own house delighted with myself.
Decades later I have never forgotten that night. The kindness, intelligence charm and sheer charisma of this wonderful man
The late and truly great Mr. Drew!
Being a big fan of The Dubliners all my life, I consider myself lucky to have met Ronnie on more than one occasion. I was aware of his reputation for being grumpy, but never found him to be anything other than an absolute gentleman. On one occasion, after a gig he played in the arrivals lounge at Dublin Airport, I was with my mam and my grandad (as well as my younger sister and brother). Going back to meet him after his set, he signed a number of autographs (with my grandad’s pen) and posed for a photo with me. Unfortunately, there was no film left in Mam’s camera, but Ronnie patiently waited as another man came along and took the photo (which he later posted to me). My grandad, who wasn’t leaving til he got his pen back from Ronnie, told him I had met John Sheahan from The Dubliners the previous year, to which Ronnie replied: “Johnny’s a good man.”
On another occasion, some years later, I again got to meet Ronnie after a gig in Andrew’s Lane Theatre. This time, I had brought along the cover of his latest album in the hopes of getting it autographed. Dad was with me and we had brought along a pen, but unfortunately we had left it in the car. Again, aware of Ronnie’s reputation for grumpiness, I wasn’t sure how he would react, but again – ever the gentleman – he walked around asking: “Has anybody got a pen so thgt I can sign an autograph for this young man?” He made sure he got one and he signed the album cover for me, for which I was very grateful.
Ronnie was my hero and I still miss him, but feel privileged to have met him and that he was so kind to me on the occasions I did meet him. He went out of his way both times to accommodate me and I always appreciated that and admired him for it. Behind the grumpy exterior was a heart of gold.
While visiting Ronnie and Deirdre at their home in Greystones years ago, we were sitting around the table with Deirdre while Ronnie was upstairs getting dressed for an event. The phone rang and Deirdre answered and hollered upstairs to Ronnie that Bono was on the line. Ronnie yelled down and said “Tell the Fuck I will call him back” Just blew us away…..
Met him once in the course of my professional duties. “Where are you off the next, Ronnie”, I asked when he’d completed the task in hand. “A tour Of Germany”, He said, before adding. “Then we head to the Faroe Islands. They love us up there. Nothing in the place, of course. Put up a set of traffic lights they think it’s a disco”. And then he was gone.
Any time I met Ronnie as a child growing up I would say ‘Hi’ and his twinkly eyes would light up with a smile ‘Hi love’ he’d reply, or something to that effect. He was The local celebrity after all and I always got a kick out of seeing him out and about doing his messages in O’Donoghue’s or Paddy’s or wherever. He was always so nice to us kids not forgetting his lovely wife Deirdre. RIP to them both x
Suzanne Hackett Cox…
Ronnie loved his horses, particularly his black mare. He & I had many a chat when my mare & foal lived directly across the road from his house (alas all built on now)
Maurice Dodd’s brother, Gerard, has this doozy of a Ronnie memory…
I remember the time (unknown to me at the time) he was in the audience in The Mermaid at a play I was in, he asked to see me after the show (in private) and said that I was the best thing he had seen on stage – I later found out that he had attended the theatre worldwide – for a very long time.
He said I would no doubt be very successful.
I asked for a photo with him and would he sign my show program. He told me to fuck off, and walked off. Cool guy.
Fiona Mills….
Memories of him shouting and laughing stood talking to Tilly Doyle in Karnac with myself and Louise Gaynor Sat in the front garden
Karen Galligan…
When I used to work in odonohues (if you remember it?)…he and Deirdre often came in to pop things on the tic, those were the days, nobody was a stranger, and didn’t matter he was famous, they were just lovely customers, always a kind word to say, and sorry to say….never a “feck off” was heard!
Margaret Cahill…
Met him on Newcastle Beach with his Grandchild a long time ago
Maurice Dodd…
He gave me a lift into bray once
Great chat about the music industry and what a lot of bollexes and fuck..s (his words) agents and producers were..met him twice more upstairs in the monk
From Nikki Reamonn…
I used to sell him his cigars during my time working in Eugenes.
From Val Kiernan…
Was on the same lineup years ago and spoke with him then. Met him numerous times here over the bar in the Burnaby. He’s not too far from me now, just over my back garden wall….resting.
Typo: I meant ears, not eyes.
I went up to Delgany Golf Club one day. I was a member in those days. Imagine my surprise when the great and besainted Ronnie Drew emerged from the clubhouse, heading for his car. This man was a god in my wife’s eyes, a saint-in-waiting in mine. We had enjoyed his music throughout our college days. I smiled at him. “Ronnie,” says I, “I had no idea you played golf.” “I play a bit,” says he. “Are you a member somewhere?” I says. “Ah, you know, people throw the occasional membership at me.” “So where do you play?” I asked. That was when the atmosphere changed. His eyes glazed over with an icy glare. “I don’t like to be interrogated,” he said, and he climbed into his car and left. I imagine his eyes were smoking as he drove off. I know mine were!
Ronnie Drew….Ah now, what can one say? The man was one of a kind and no mistake. My first experience of the man, took place one sunny morning, a sunny morning after a rather raucous night, it must be said. I was walking down Killincarrick Road with a good chum of mine, whom I will call Johhny, to protect the innocent. Both of us had experienced a most pleasant night and were still basking in the feeling of well-being that teenagers often do.
For some strange reason, Johnny was holding a rather brightly coloured balloon, of which he seemed rather proud. Thanks to the state we were in, this didn’t seem in any way incongruous to the pair of us, as we slowly meandered down, towards the station. All was well with the world and we were looking forward to a cup of coffee and mayhap a doughnut. At this stage, there was nothing to indicate the peril we were about to encounter in but a few short moment.
As we passed the Drew household, without warning, a young urchin (Phelim I suppose), sprinted out from the dark hallway, grabbed my friends much-prized balloon, laughed in our faces, before zipping back inside. Johhny was stunned! This attack was so sudden, we both stood, mouths open and rooted to the spot. I then started to giggle a bit, as one would, given the circumstances. Johhny turned to look at me and for a horrible moment, I thought he might even wallop me.
His face was a mask of indignation as he stared at me for a second or two, before he spun on his heel and brazenly chased the fleeing youngster up the short path and into the house. I was terrified. Dear God, did he not know who resided within? Things went quiet, in the parlance of old movies, almost too quiet, then it happened.
I watched as my friend slowly backed out of the doorway, closely followed by what looked like a pantomime demon! Jesus, it was Ronnie. Beard bristling and gimlet eyes staring through Johhny’s very soul, the voice, when it came, was dripping with menace. It looked as though Ronnie himself, had also had quite a good night. Peering out from behind Ronnie’s back, was the aforementioned balloon thief, a broad smile on his face, obviously taunting us and revelling in our combined discomfort. “Wha do yous two want?”
I was quite impresses at my friend resolve, as he didn’t burst into tears at this rasped question. Ronnie’s voice was like a horny fingernail being dragged down a rough blackboard. I wanted to scream and run, but to give Johnny credit, he spoke in a shaky voice, whilst pointing at still- grinning Phelim. “He stole my balloon!”
Ronnie seemed nonplussed for a few seconds as he eyed the pair of us up and down. Bracing myself for a torrent of abuse and possible a physical assault, imagine my relief as he turned and looked at his son…..now looking a tad less secure. After a theatrical pause for effect and obviously making the decision that these two buffoons were not worthy of further effort, he spoke to Phelim in a calm, measured way. “Give the man his balloon back!”
Once this command had been uttered, he turned back to us as Phelim handed over his ill-gotten gains. Giving us the benefit of a rather pitiful stare, he disappeared back inside. I think even Phelim was a teeny bit shocked, as Johnny and I went on our merry way, still shaking at our lucky escape.
Looking back, I like to imagine that Ronnie went inside and laughed himself sick as he watched our reactions through the front curtains. The man was a true legend and as far as I’m concerned, a complete gentleman and one who is badly missed.