John Kelly: The brave Creggan boy who changed the history of Derry

Eulogy by Tony Doherty: The Boy From Creggan – a tribute to my friend and fellow campaigner John Kelly.

There have been many occasions in Derry and beyond when I have begun speaking by saying that I’ve felt pride and privilege.

I’ve never meant it as much as I do this morning as we say goodbye to John. I am very proud and very privileged to be here to speak on behalf of his friends and the many families whose lives became somehow better because of what he said or did for them.

I’ve known John Kelly for a long, long time. We started the Bloody Sunday Justice Campaign together with others in the early 1990s and brought it to its peak in 2010 when all the dead and wounded were declared innocent. In all that time, and right up to the present day, I don’t ever remember having a fall out with him.

Don’t get me wrong, if John had a point to make, he would make it, sometimes bluntly and with a choice of language for full effect, and sometimes we would disagree on a tactic here or a tactic there. But we would never allow disagreement to lead to fall-out and we always found a way back. As many of you here today will know, this bond that many of us have, has led to the success of our campaign.

As a measure of the man, I don’t know one single person who has a bad word to say about John Kelly. Because he was a gentleman and had been round a few corners in his day, he had a way of disarming people sometimes with his charm, but more often by just saying what needed to be said. He wasn’t ever put off by who was in the room, including any Taoiseach or Tanáiste of the time, or a Prime-Minister or any of the various government ministers who have come and gone. If it had to be said he was usually the one to say it.

John was deeply affected by the murder of his young brother Michael. He got his strength, which carried him through the darkest of times, from the realisation that he now spoke for Michael, the innocent teenager who fell dead in Rossville Street. And in speaking for Michael, and by declaring his brother’s innocence, often challenged, he wasn’t going to be cowed down by anyone, friend or foe.

It could be said that he was thrown in at the deep end when he took on the role of Chairperson of the Campaign. He would joke that he had gone out of the first meeting for a smoke and when he returned to his chair he had become the chair.

Over the past few months, as his health was gradually failing him, many of us had great craic recounting stories of the early, and often chaotic, days of the campaign meetings where you couldn’t see from one end of the room in Westend to the other for the cigarette smoke and where five people were trying to speak at the one time, including John’s brother-in-law, George Downey, whose voice boomed over everyone else. On one such visit, John’s eldest son, young John was present in 7 Westway as Gerry Duddy, Baldy McKinney and our Paul told a few wild tales of campaigning exploits in London, Dublin and Belfast. Afterwards we had to swear young John to secrecy, such was the gravity of our loose talk session.

I imagine what made John good for the job is that he had spent most of his life as a teacher. He had a magical way with people, using skills honed in Springtown Training Centre, or in Westend Park and then finally in the now famous Museum of Free Derry.

He of course made the museum famous, greeting delegations from all over the world, taking great pride showing people around and telling his story. The young museum and trust staff love him simply because he was courteous, took time with them, to explain this or point out that to them. And he did so because he knew he would move on someday and was very conscious of setting standards and leaving his legacy. He is the grandfather to them all.

Though he has now passed from this world into another, he will never be gone. We have now framed his museum jumper and have it hanging at reception. As well as the jumper, we have his unmistakably cool voice guiding visitors through the city’s history. As well as the jumper and the voice, his image will live forever in the Museum of Free Derry

Because British armed forces murdered so many innocent people and told lies about their deaths, many of us northerners have had to spend huge periods of our lives struggling to achieve truth and justice out of a system which was culturally tone deaf to those basic concepts.

This working-class man from Dunmore Gardens in Creggan became the leader of our campaign for truth and justice at a time when leadership was badly needed. From humble, uncertain and unsteady beginnings in 1992 he guided, encouraged, nurtured and lit the pathway of what was to become an epic battle for our human rights against all the odds.

So, what did this boy from Creggan achieve?

He led one of the most successful family campaigns ever to have impacted on these islands. A campaign which has become the benchmark for others in Ballymurphy, Springhill, Stardust in Dublin, Liverpool and further afield.

He was largely responsible for bringing about the second inquiry into the murders on Bloody Sunday, which established the innocence of all the dead and wounded.

He forced the British prime minister to apologise for the murders and mayhem on the streets of Derry on Bloody Sunday.

Along with Jean Hegarty, he literally tore the despised Widgery Report into shreds on the steps of the Guildhall.

Put simply, he changed the history of this city. He did all this while raising six boys, all grand fellas, with his beloved wife Margaret MacEnroe, with whom he is now reunited.

When we are all dead and gone, future generations of scholars will write the true history of the city of Derry and how we forced the British to admit their terrible deeds.

John Kelly’s name will be writ brave and bold into that history. Brave and Bold. For that’s what he was.

Glorio, Glorio to this bold fenian man. John Kelly – the boy from the Creggan.