not in my name

The death of Ronan Kerr, a year 25 year old man from County Tyrone, rocked Northern Ireland on Saturday. When a bomb exploded under his car in Omagh the news sent a shudder down the spine of the country that I haven’t experienced for a long time.

When I heard about it I was on a film set sixty miles away near Ballynahinch. During a break in filming I took out my phone to check the BBC website and saw the headline “Policeman killed in Omagh car bomb attack.” Immediately the words 'Omagh' and 'bomb' were enough to bring back awful memories; and then when I continued to read the story it shook me for a moment. I debated whether or not to tell the rest of the cast and crew there and then or wait until filming had ended for the day. It all seemed a bit raw and close to the bone.

It was something of a dreadful coincidence, you see, that around four o’clock – about the time the bomb went off under Constable Kerr’s car – I was playing the part of a policeman in the RUC during the troubles. I was surrounded by people who were, or had been, directly affected by the traumas imposed on the Police back then. One scene in particular involved me being filmed checking below my car for a bomb. To me it had been a little bit of screen business to carry out twelve times from four different angles – to the officers back then it was a routine that could be a matter of life and death.

Do we really want to return to such a time of paranoia and fear? Where lack of trust makes us suspicious of strangers? Could we really feel proud of a society where our police officers have to check below their cars before every journey – where they have to walk down streets in pairs – where they carry rifles and wear body armour if they leave the confines of police stations fortified by huge security walls and netting? Do we feel the need to return to a time where random searches and check points are needed?

I remember those times, and not with a nostalgic smile. The idea of returning to them – or anything like them – fills me with dread. However it seems some others (who may not even have been born at the time) don’t have those same memories. Perhaps they have built up some kind of idealistic, glamorised view of the past – minds filled with causes, and honour, and calls to arms. Surely if they had lived through it they’d know just how little honour there actually was back then.

This action and those responsible for it must be totally rejected. I am calling upon those involved to stop, and to stop now.

-Gerry Adams – Sinn Fein President

So it was with relief that I saw just how much outrage there was over Ronan’s murder – from all sides of the community. As politicians, public leaders, church leaders, sporting figures, journalists, celebrities, bloggers… everyone, united against the people who carried out the killing; as social networking sites lit up with messages of support and condolence for his grieving family; as GAA players and fans (not known in the past for their love of the police force in Northern Ireland) observed a minute of respectful silence for one of their own who also happened to be a police officer; as rival politicians united to speak out in support of the peace process… I allowed myself to feel a glimmer of hope that this young man’s death would not be in vain.

The people of the Bogside are angry this morning [about the graffiti], they have been angry since Saturday, just like the rest of the north. They do not deserve to be tarnished with this and the good name of PC Kerr does not deserve to be tarnished like this.

-Pat Ramsey SDLP MLA

If those who planned and carried out this young man’s death (and those ignorants who daubed the sickening graffiti lauding it in the Bogside area of Derry) realise that the rest of the population don’t see them as plucky little underdogs fighting against the malevolent colonial oppressors, but as a pariah, an evil, backward anomaly in a society that is trying to move forward. If they see that then I hope Ronan’s family can take comfort from the fact that, in his death, Ronan changed attitudes and helped lasting peace take a foothold in our troubled little province.

It is difficult to comprehend how a young man with the best interests of our community at heart, and who contributed so positively to our community, could be attacked in this way. His death demeans humanity and is detrimental to the development of a shared future based on mutual respect.

-GAA statement

Today we finished filming, and my time as a policeman came to an end. It’s a decent little movie – touching and quite thought provoking – but I doubt many, if any, of you will ever see it. And I doubt it will change society greatly. Today Constable Ronan Kerr was buried – I pray that his courage in life and in death will leave a much more important and lasting legacy. Actually, call me an optimistic fool but I have a feeling it just might.

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catch the pigeon, catch the pigeon...

I love this story. It seems the Irish Police have been chasing a notorious polish immigrant driver for the past few years. 'The worst driver in Ireland' he's been called. A man so inconsiderate and dangerous he was wanted in counties across the country - north, south, east and west. Speeding, disobeying road signs, illegal parking, driving without due care and attention - you name it he did it.

But he was too clever for the Irish justice system - you see although he was caught red handed plenty of times he evaded trouble by providing a different address each time - crafty sod! A manhunt was organised. No stone would be unturned in pursuit of this devil driver.

So who is this polish scarlet pimpernel? His name, Mr Prawo Jazdy.

The polish speakers among you are already smirking. For it turns out that 'Prawo Jazdy' is polish for 'Driving License.'

Oh yes.

The police, unaccustomed to polish id recorded the most prominent writing assuming it was the culprit's name. Blinded by the sheer panic of facing a bizarre foreign language they wrote down the first thing they saw rather than taking a bit of time and working it out. Check out the photo - would you be taken in?

Actually if I'm honest I am sometimes at a bit of a loss when faced with some of the foreign names in my classes in recent years. I think I may actually empathise with the poor traffic cops - I have felt similar panic when I first see a Chui, Franciszek Ksawery or Kuivina in the register book - knowing that in a few seconds I will have to try and call it out. Even Irish names like Caoimhe, Dearbhla or Medb fill me with dread. But that is no excuse for three years chasing a man called Driving License.

As for the seemingly elusive Mr Prawo Jazdy, he has presumably become a cult hero among Ireland's largest immigrant population.

Isn't it bad enough that we've had to put up with jokes about how stupid the Irish are without us actually proving that we really are a bit thick when it comes down to it? Really makes you proud, doesn't it?

I'll have a big mac and three years in the state pen please

I love other cultures – they’re all so foreign.

Take Manila for instance. Just recently I read that they have done a deal with McDonalds to run their police cars on a mixture of diesel and Micky D’s used cooking oil.

With oil prices at crippling highs, the project would convert cars in the Makati financial district to run on a mix of 40 percent diesel and 60 percent cooking oil, its police chief Senior Superintendent Gilbert Cruz said.

Ingenious. The way oil prices are going the criminals won’t be able to fill their get away cars while all the police have to do is pop in to the drive-in for a big mac, a large fries and an oil change.

"It's a win-win situation for us because we will both benefit," Cruz said. "The cooking oil of their Makati stores will be re-used and the Makati police will use it as a component for their biodiesel and also save money."

They’re talking about rolling the project out across the Philippines.

I wonder if similar concepts would work in the west? In Canada Tim Horton’s coffee and donuts already fuel the police force (boom boom!) I remember they were big customers when I worked night shift in a Timmy’s in Waterloo. They were entitled to free coffee but generally paid their way (perhaps the small cup they could get free wouldn’t have sated the thirst created by crime fighting). And it wasn’t always a bad thing to see a cop car pulling into the parking lot – especially since someone had found a gun in the toilets shortly before I got the job. I often wondered if my huge size played any part in my recruitment – bagel baker, donut dipper, beverage brewer and bouncer all in one. I was ideal.

So who would the UK police turn to for refuelling? The wise comments are coming far too easily to mind – There’s no fun to it when there’s no challenge.