The day Reagan became ‘one of our own’

THERE was something homely looking about President Ronald Reagan when he appeared at the door of his Marine One helicopter which landed in the football field in Ballyporeen exactly 20 years ago this past weekend.

Although it was summer, he brought along a raincoat just in case.

That June 3 got off to a wet start in the valley between the Galtee and Knockmealdown mountains, but cleared by morning and prospects for the afternoon were good.

It was one of those memorable occasions when the relaxed lifestyle of a rural community was turned into a busy centre with a world wide interest.

Security was tight. The streets were swept with electronic gadgets seeking hidden bombs. Marksmen were positioned on roof tops.

A 2,000-strong security ring protected the village of 300 souls in a parish of 1,400 people, normally policed by two gardaí. It included crack anti-terrorist Irish troops and US agents displaying their guns.

Ballyporeen, which a few months earlier did not even have a direct dial telephone system, was linked by satellite to world capitals, US defence commands and an airborne jet.

More than 1,000 media people were present to tell the world how Ronald Reagan went searching for his roots.

The US security people were everywhere with their metal scanners, bullet proof cars, drink and food tasters. They even had microphones on the sleeves of their trench coats.

They monitored all the president's moves. These were carefully stage-managed in advance. For the image was the message with a potential worldwide television audience of 300 million people.

Even an advertising sign for a well-known spirit which appeared on a hoarding on Church Street with the message "Bush the President's Choice" was commercially too strong for the protocol conscious US officials.

They insisted that the "P" be taken out of President with the result that when he arrived the sign simply read: "Bush the Resident's Choice."

As he surveyed the massive security operation, Hugh Peskett, the British genealogist, asked "Am I responsible for all this?" Four years earlier, he had traced the Reagan tree from Tampico, Illinois to a church register in Ballyporeen.

There, in the pages of an old ledger, was the baptismal record of his great grandfather, Michael Reagan.

The president, hungry for news of his ancestors, was delighted with the findings of Hugh Peskett.

"Tipperary is my county," he declared one day in a Boston pub, and it was obvious that he was set on making a pilgrimage there.

When he finally made the trip, he sat at a table in the Parochial House with parish priest Fr John Murphy and curate Fr Eanna Condon, who showed him the baptismal record of his great-grandfather.

President Reagan later bowed his head in prayer during a service in the Church of the Assumption across the road. Tears came to his eyes when he was shown the baptismal font.

It then took him 21 minutes to walk 100 yards down Church Street, stopping to greet welcoming parishioners. But when Ronald and Nancy Reagan walked through the front door of John and Mary O'Farrell's pub, a wonderful dream had come true.

The O'Farrells, who more than anyone else were responsible for the visit, served a pint of Smithwick's for the president and a glass of Carolans liqueur for the First Lady.

President Reagan was introduced to his North Cork cousins family historian Paddy Reagan, of Ballyhea, and lookalike Myles O'Regan, of Buttevant, both now deceased.

Ballyporeen Community Council chairman Martin Neville assured him on that memorable day: "You are now one of our own."