I’ve waited over twenty-five years to tell my story. I could have taken it to my grave, but I wish to unburden myself before I meet my maker. I’m not much longer for this world you see. Years of heavy smoking have caught up with me, and the cancer has
The Wall, the Gunman, and the Banshee Read More »
It was tough coming of age in West Belfast during the early 70s, that’s for sure. I’m not making excuses for myself but – like many in my generation – I was caught between a rock and a hard place. I grew up in a working-class Catholic family and like
The clear night sky was a perfect reflection of the water below it, and the moon hovered amongst a quilt of black like a curled finger as if beckoning the sun to chase it around the earth.A great shadow glided beneath the water at measureless speed. From the Irish Sea,
A Tale from Portaferry Read More »
Have you ever heard the legend of Abhartach, the Irish vampire? Probably not. But no doubt you will be familiar with Bram Stoker and his seminal work ‘Dracula’, first published in 1897 and adapted so many times since in literature, radio, TV and film. Stoker’s famous tale was of course
An ancient terror is stalking the Irish countryside Read More »
If like me you identify as an introvert and consider yourself as something of a misanthropist, you’ve probably dreamt at one point or another of escaping to a deserted island somewhere and living in peace and solitude, free from the stresses of the modern world. The fantasy of running off
‘I am an Irish Ghost Hunter. My last investigation almost cost me everything.’ Read More »
I want to tell you the story of a bizarre thing that happened to me five years ago. It was what you might call a life changing experience, a metaphorical kick in the balls that put me on the straight and narrow after years spent in a vicious cycle of
The Man with the Woolly Face Read More »
Have you ever heard the legend of Stingy Jack? No? Well, no matter. I’d never heard of him either, not until I had the misfortune of meeting the shifty bastard face-to-face. I encountered Jack, not realising who or what he was, and my ignorance almost cost me my life…Not just
The night I drank with Stingy Jack Read More »
I’ve lived in the same house my entire life. I grew up here, and now I’m raising my own family under this roof. Our home is no mansion…far from it. We live in a small-terraced house on a narrow back street in North Belfast. At first glance, there isn’t much
The Big Man of Arden Street Read More »
I’ll start this account by admitting I was a member of the Provisional Irish Republican Army during the early 1970’s. I joined as a volunteer in the South Down Brigade in late 1971 and was active along the border up until my arrest and conviction in 1975. I make no
Something happened in an Irish border town that was kept out of the history books Read More »
The following transcript is taken from a Gardai Missing Person’s Report dated 5th December 2020. The subject’s name is Paul O’Shea, aged 32 years. Mr O’Shea is (or was) a mature PhD student at the School of Irish History in Waterford Institute. A Waterford native, Mr O’Shea had been travelling
A lost paramilitary tape from the 1990’s has been rediscovered. Do not watch it. Read More »
My mother died suddenly and unexpectantly sometime in the early hours of Sunday morning. The coroner said she suffered a massive stroke and her death would have been instantaneous. This brought me some small comfort, knowing that she hadn’t suffered in the end. I was the one who found her.
Confessions of a Belfast Cop Read More »
From a young age I always knew I would become a soldier. I was born into an upper-class family with a proud military tradition. My grandfather was wounded at the Somme, and my father served under Montgomery in North Africa. It was always expected that I would follow in their
My name is Sean. Actually, that’s not my real name, but it will have to do. I live in a small tight knit community – the type where everyone knows everybody else. So, if I published my story under my real identity, I’d become a local laughingstock. Either that, or
Every night I’m stopped at a roadblock that shouldn’t exist Read More »
It was in the year of our Lord 1778, when I, Frank Aaron McDougall, made voyage from Ireland, carried upon the wind of freedom was I bound towards that shining light across the sea, to meet up with me brother Newly and his kinfolk, in the Carolinas. It was a
