'Come up and see me some time". That infamous Mae West invitation may sound somewhat apocryphal now, but there once was a Galway man who did just that. Steve Donohue had a slightly unorthodox first encounter with the actress when he walked into her dressing room during a production of Diamond Lil .
Donohue, from the Claddagh, had been hired as stuntman for the London show. West was working out when he entered, and wearing a “birthday” (as in, invisible) singlet; she promptly asked him if he liked what he saw. As he stumbled over the affirmative, she noted “Irish . . . you ain’t too bad yourself.”
The late John Cunningham – skilled journalist that he was – would have been more than somewhat sceptical if the Claddaghman hadn't had some evidence. Donohue had photographs of himself with the actress, and a pretty unpolitically correct explanation as to why stunt men were always in such demand.
West wasn't his only famous friend, for Sam Spiegel and Robert Aldrich were among the directors that Donohue worked with. He was instrumental in preparing Alec Guinness for his "sweat box" exit in The Bridge over the River Kwai . As Cunningham recalled, the stuntman fed the actor whiskey till he resembled a tortured prisoner. Guinness subsequently won an Oscar for the role.
Donohue’s own winning role was on his home set of the Salthill Prom. Right into his 70s he was a “handsome figure” on the walkway, still capable of “bagging young wans” with his blather. He is one of many characters fondly described by Cunningham in a recently published essay collection.
There was Michael Patrick Murphy Woodfall, the “Galloping Major”, who was the most successful conman of his generation; Humpy Julia, who sold Cough No Mores and tu’penny cigarettes on the “black market” in Tuam; and the illicit poteen makers of Leitir Móir in Connemara. The iron rule of Archbishop Michael Browne, the pioneering spirit of Connacht rugby, and the best and worst of Christian Brothers education provided further inspiration for his pen.
Cunningham, who died more than a year ago at the age of 66, was a distinguished newspaper editor, a skilled political analyst, and a tutor to several generations of journalism students at NUI Galway. As close friend and RTÉ broadcaster Sean O’Rourke noted late last year, many politicians had followed Cunningham’s weekly column, under the byline of “The Deputy”, to find out what was going on in their respective parties.
However, after retiring as editor of the Connacht Tribune , Cunningham wrote a diary for the paper, entitled "As I See It", which was less about raw politics and more about real people. So he might touch on a major news event, or a daily irritant like Galway's notorious traffic, or the attempts to bring world cinema to the city – when he and others became known as the "dirty film crowd". He might sound off on the future of journalism, and the tough training he received as a cub reporter-cum-proof reader, or analyse the difference between celebrity and fame.
He would also dwell on themes of love and loss, such as his annual pilgrimage to a children’s graveyard near the former industrial school in Letterfrack and his childhood years in the Bon Secours home in Tuam. His mother died less than a month after his premature birth; and so the home where his father had worked as caretaker offered to mind the “tiny sickly baby” .
For seven years, he was “my John” for a carer named Mary who had a healing gift. While others were in their cots, he slept in her room. “On a hand-me-down tricycle, I pedalled the length of a world made up of varnished wood flooring, concrete floors polished to a mirror”, he recalled. When the time came for him to return to his family, he stopped eating, mitched school. “In retrospect, it is easy now to see that there was a second loss for me”.
It was John Cunningham's wish to raise funds for Galway Hospice, where he had been board member and, latterly, a patient. His son Enda has fulfilled that, collating the columns in paperback form with all proceeds going directly to the institution. As I Saw It: Galway Through the Eyes of a Celebrated Columnist . includes illustrations by Allan Cavanagh.