Dr John was in reality the hero he spent his life searching for

WHEN the late Dr John O’Connell TD contested the first European Parliament elections — against the wishes of his party, Labour — it was the first political campaign I ever experienced.

It was also a cross between the Twilight Zone and Haiti, mid-earthquake. A young American intern came up with ideas — like telephone canvassing — never previously tried in Ireland and Dr John wanted them all done yesterday, throwing spectacular tantrums if they weren’t. Veering between despair and manic elation, he stuck with it — as did I — and at the end of the campaign the candidate became Dr John O’Connell MEP.

That he had become a doctor, never mind a European parliamentarian, was astonishing, coming as he did from dire poverty, his mother illiterate, his father capable of writing but not of punctuation; any letter from him was one continuous breathless sentence. Three of O’Connell’s siblings died of TB in their teens. He put himself through medical school working as a bookies’ tout, mocked by wealthy fellow students for wearing plastic shoes that squeaked with every step.