A year on – Irish Examiner making headlines from kitchens and bedrooms

Golfgate was sparked because a reader took the time to email us with a little nugget of information that needed standing up. Within hours, it became the biggest domestic story of the year. Illustration: Harry Burton.

"Em, I think you're still on mute..."

We've all been there, some of us on a daily basis. Being on mute, battling a dodgy wifi connection on a Zoom call, feeling a bit glitchy and disconnected – it's all very much in keeping with the past year, ever since that extraordinary St Patrick's Day 12 months ago when the then-taoiseach Leo Varadkar delivered an address to the nation that redrew the map for all of us. 

We have been living very different lives ever since.

It also marked a new juncture for the  Irish Examiner. March 18's edition was the very first in the long and storied history of this newspaper to have been created entirely remotely. What was initially a novelty is now convention. It has taken some getting used to.

To those unfamiliar, it can be hard to describe the thrum of a newsroom in full flow. A self-propelled engine, fuelled by the clattering of keyboards and the ringing of phones, or maybe a kind of murmuration – words and pictures zig-zagging around, yet forming a satisfying and occasionally beautiful pattern. We'll ignore any associated mess.

For the past year, the  Irish Examiner newsrooms in Cork and Dublin have been all-too-quiet and mostly unoccupied. But amid all the strangeness, one thing has held true: fealty to the facts, opinion grounded in lived experience, and a bond with our readers. We're trying to tell your stories, and wherever possible, with your help.

Irish Examiner Editor, Tom Fitzpatrick, sums it up like this: "When we left the office in March 2020, none of us would have believed we would be continuing to work from our homes a year later.

"I am proud that we have been able to produce our newspaper remotely for a year, while improving and redesigning our website and apps and launching new digital events and products.

Our staff have, in the most difficult of circumstances, kept going and continued to set the agenda. My thanks to them for their efforts and to you, our readers, for the support and loyalty you have shown us."

It's that last bit that is so integral to the flow of trusted information that lands with you every day, digitally or in print. 

Let's take one prime example: Golfgate was sparked because a reader took the time to email us with a little nugget of information that needed standing up. Within hours, it became the biggest domestic story of the year.

The world outside our windows has shrunk to a 5km radius, but it still contains multitudes. And the world is still a big place. As we've hunkered down in our kitchens and spare bedrooms over the past year, we've seen Brexit finally happen, the election of a new US President, and the storming of the Capitol building in Washington. 

Our January 13 edition of the Irish Examiner was dedicated to the memory of the children who died in Bessborough Mother and Baby Home.

Our striking front page marking the tragedy of the mother and baby homes scandal pinged around the world. 

We've reported on a wobbly coalition, a revolving-door procession of ministers for agriculture, All-Ireland's played out amid the fog and gloom of a darkening winter, Liverpool winning the Premier League, and much more. 

Throughout it all, we've sought to tell the story of the pandemic – those surreal and frightening early months, the January spike, the stuttering vaccine rollout, the pain of loss, the enforced isolation, the personal and economic struggles, the sacrifices of those on the front line, the battle against distortion and disinformation and those life-affirming examples of humanity that shine a little light amid the ongoing uncertainty.

Our own horizons may have narrowed, but only temporarily. The newsroom is still waiting for us, just like the pub, club, cinema, office, theatre and all the rest. So stay connected. As one of those matchbox proverbs has it: Ní neart go cur le chéile.