Minister for Arts on a master of letters

I WAS introduced to John B Keane — at a very young age — by my father.

He and John B had similar interests, were Gaelic football fanatics, and shared both a love of politics and a common political persuasion.

Young children don’t often pay too much attention to their parents’ friends. But, even as a boy, I knew that John B was different, and particularly special. He had incredible warmth and wit, but he combined this with a keen eye for people, for language and for detail, and a genuine compassion for all those who crossed his path.

As I grew older, and became involved in sport, John B became one of my closest friends, supporters and confidants. When I played in the primary school league in Listowel in the mid-1960s, with Killocrim National School, John B was a frequent spectator at our games. When the school won the final in 1965 he asked me to show my winning medal to his sons — Billy, Conor and John. That was the first time I had met Billy, and we have remained close friends ever since.

When I left primary school I attended St Michael’s College Listowel, and I would frequently meet John B on the street. He was also a regular at our college football games. I always felt that John B took a particular interest in my career as a footballer and what profession I would take up after secondary school. It was largely due to John B’s advice that I decided to become a teacher.

I wasn’t the only beneficiary of his wisdom. Both he and his wife Mary befriended many people, and gave them whatever advice and support they could. And, in addition to those who may have met him at his pub or on the street, I believe that through his work John B also became a voice for a wider group of people: those, especially, from rural Ireland who drew solace and joy from his writing. In this way, he influenced people both directly and indirectly.

The extent to which John B was loved by so many people was really brought home to me most when I travelled abroad with the Kerry football team during the 1970s and 80s. I constantly met people from Kerry who told me that John B was their father’s best friend. In the UK, America and farther afield, it became clear to me that John B was both admired for his work but was, more importantly, loved as a close family friend of many North Kerry people scattered all over the world.

John B, no doubt, is remembered most fondly for his quick wit and sense of humour. I saw this, at first hand, many times. On one occasion, I played the part of Font Nix in John B’s play, The Buds of Ballybunion. When the successful production ended I asked John B to sign my working script. Without a thought he wrote ‘To my great friend Jimmy Deenihan — the best Font since the Holy Water Font.’ When I was asked to consider seeking a nomination to run for Fine Gael in the Nov 1982 election I sought John B’s advice. He was very honest and upfront about the vagaries and challenges of a life in politics. But he concluded with unconditional support and encouragement, and promised that he would be with me for as long as I stayed in politics or he was alive. He kept his promise, and canvassed the main street of Listowel with me only two weeks before he died.

He proposed me at the Selection Convention in 1982 and, no doubt, his support was instrumental in my winning that night.

Of course, I might have been canvassing for John B if things had turned out differently. In 1990, Fine Gael was actively seeking a candidate to put forward for the Presidency. I was asked by the party to approach John B to see if he would consider running. I discussed this offer with John B and his wife Mary, and said I would call in a week for an answer.

I called a week later and asked John B if he had made up his mind. His response was classic John B — ‘Well, Jimmy, when I got up this morning and looked in the mirror I’m afraid I didn’t see a President.’ I got the message.

John B may not have become President of the Irish People, but he was certainly the Playwright of the People. It may be ten years since John B physically left us, but his spirit prevails and his words resonate: not only from the streets of Listowel, and his beloved landscape of Kerry, but from Broadway, the West End and theatres across the world.