The town they left behind

It’s over a year since the last garda recruits left Templemore. The town is struggling to cope without them, locals tell David Young

TEMPLEMORE is fighting for survival, with both hands tied behind its back, it seems. Not only has it got a recession to tackle, there’s also the matter of a moratorium on public service recruitment. The Garda College — the town’s lifeblood — hasn’t welcomed a trainee since 2009. The last recruits left over a year ago, and there’s no sign of them returning anytime soon.

“Before the embargo, the place was rocking,” says Martin Fogarty, deputy mayor of Templemore and Garda College storekeeper. “There was a buzz. Sure, it was like an IT. Every night, you’d have hundreds at Polly’s pub, just across the road. And every three months you had passing out parades, with thousands of people coming to town.”

“You wouldn’t get car parking space within two miles of the college during ceremonies,” he says, smiling. “With family and friends in to celebrate, Templemore could see up to 3,000 extra people. That’s more than double the population — four times a year. Even the towns around us would be delighted when there were graduations.”

“That’s all gone,” he says. “And those big days won’t ever return. But that’s ok. Look, the town would be happy with any recruitment. Forget about the times when there were quarterly intakes of 200 to 250, and more. A hundred would do. Not knowing if that’ll happen is the hardest part right now.”

“We’ve been told the college is going to stay open. But we don’t know in what capacity,” he says, hopeful the facility will be used fully rather than on an ad-hoc basis. “There’s in-service and pre-retirement training, and the likes, as well as courses for CEPOL, the European Police College. But it’s not the same as having the place full of new recruits.”

“If I could have the justice minister’s ear, I’d tell him it was a no-brainer. The lack of gardaí is going to leave communities unprotected, and that means more crime. And that’ll cost more in the long run,” he cautions.

“The minister could give everyone a lift by telling us for certain when things will be coming down the line,” says Mr Fogarty.

“What’s the mood in Templemore?” asks Valerie Young, town councillor “It’s dark. There’s a fear there. A fear of the unknown. People want to know what’s going to happen. They believe the Garda College just couldn’t ever be closed altogether. But expectations are low.”

“You see, there’s so little that hasn’t been affected, from restaurants to shops,” she says. “Hey, there wasn’t a day you’d go into the hairdresser and there wouldn’t be some recruits. You’d often see them coming trooping down of a Monday evening. And there’d be 10 or 15 of them lined up to get the hair trimmed.”

“Of course, we’re still open for business here, mind you. Just on a smaller scale. A lot of the pubs are working three-day weeks or they’re only opening at the weekend,” she says. But it’s tough everywhere you look.”

Where’s it most noticeable? “The passing out parades. They were huge. You’d see the minister being driven into town. And the streets would be awash with cars. Everyone would be going around in their finery. The beauticians would be flat out,” she remembers. “We need to get that buzz back.”

“The justice minister might be saving in the short term, thanks to this moratorium. But that won’t hold for further down the line,” she adds. “It’s then we’ll all be paying a much bigger price for the gaps in An Garda Síochana.”

What about the assurances? “We’re told the place is full with courses between now and Christmas ... but what’s coming after that? I want to see a commitment from the Government there’ll be a return. Then we’d know the town could be vibrant again. I can tell you — if we had just that, we’d have people going around smiling.”

“Templemore. It’s like a funeral that never happened,” says Biddy O’Gorman, bar manager. Having served customers at the town’s only hotel — the Templemore Arms — for more than 28 years, she’s witnessed the locale struggle.

“It’s a different town today to what it was a few years ago. Completely. Everything’s been affected. Houses aren’t being rented,” she says. “Think about it. The graduations alone used to keep the hairdressers, suit hire and laundry on the go. Today, jeez, the stamp isn’t even being bought at the post office.”

“Sure, every time you’d go to the dentist or the corner shop, say, there’d be recruits in there. Now, the atmosphere is gone out of the town. It’s just deflated. We’re mourning something that passed away ... without there being a death,” she says.

“The loss of income is huge. I know one woman who used to keep two recruits. Today she’s got none. And her husband is on a three-day week. They just can’t afford to eat or drink out.”

“There’s a vacuum in Templemore. I don’t even have to look left and right anymore crossing the square,” she says.

“We saw a huge drop in numbers. We lost up to 30 sessions a week,” says physiotherapist and owner of Premier Physiotherapy and Sports Medicine Clinic, Thérése Ryan. “We would’ve had recruits coming back after weekends of sport at home — injured. And we’d get them right for riot training or whatever physical activity they’d have had at the college.”

“That’s all by the wayside now. And we can’t count on it ever coming back like it was,” says Thérése. “We had to adapt our clinic and find new clients to keep the business going. And thankfully, we managed to do so.”

“As for the Garda College, it’s a purpose-built facility. It could possibly be put to some other uses in the meantime. There are conferences happening all over the country every week, surely it could be used to generate income. Imagine the spin-off for the town and the local economy.”

It’s the kind of initiative that could occupy Templemore ahead of the Government’s next recruitment drive. Some have even suggested the college as ideal for political party-think-ins. Now there’s one sure fire way to get the town “rocking” again.