Rory remembers being the only child in the school with no shoes
Local Faces: Rory McClelland
Rory McClelland cuts quite a dash as he walks around the Ballyfermot suburb he calls home, writes Ken Doyle.
On any given day, rain or shine, Rory can be relied upon to look the absolute last word in sartorial elegance.
“The best dressed man in Ballyfermot,” he laughs, but most of the people who admire his dapper threads will be unaware of the story of how Rory decided he was always going to be well turned out.
The story by turns is funny, adventurous, sad, and at times, downright disturbing, but blisteringly honest.
That story is now available on Amazon in a memoir called “The Ragamuffin: The Rory McClelland Story.”
Rory is busy organising the official launch of the book, but he was kind enough to sit down with The Echo and spill some of the beans contained therein.
To get to the start, we have to go back a year or two. Rory was born in 1941 as war was raging around the world and Ireland had taken a few hits from the Luftwaffe.
This was personal in Rory’s eyes, as he will explain.
“I’m the second youngest of 23 children and my dad Patsy was a Sergeant in the British Army who fought in the First World War. He ended the war in a prisoner-of-war camp in India.”
Rory was the second youngest in a family of 23 children
“I was born in Lansdowne Valley and when he got home, my dad became Works Manager at the Nugget Shoe Polish factory. All I can remember of that time was the constant smell of the polish and, as my mam Margaret was asthmatic, we had to move house.”
“We ended up in a place called Connacht Park in Bluebell which was owned by the British Army and available to ex-servicemen and their families. My dad then died tragically young at the age of 48 and with the breadwinner gone, our huge family was penniless.”
This is where ‘The Ragamuffin’ and Rory’s current dress policy comes from.
“I went to a place called Robinhood School for my education and I remember being the only kid there with no shoes. I barely had a stitch of clothing either and I was jeered and mocked mercilessly.”
“I remember I had a friend I used to play with in Connacht Park and his father came out and told him he couldn’t play with me because I was too dirty. He was a stiff Army type and he just said ‘stay away from that ragamuffin.’ It always stuck with me.”
“Then one day my teacher Miss Cooney called me aside and gave me the gift of a grand pair of shoes and a bag full of clothes. It changed my young life and I was so grateful. From then on, I vowed I would never be called a ragamuffin again.”
Upon leaving school, Rory took jobs at a sweet factory and made office furniture for a while until a mate of his told him he was going to Blackpool and why didn’t he come too? So, at 16 and with two shirts being the sum total of his luggage, he did.
At this point, the story is one of hardship reminiscent of Orwell’s classic ‘Down and Out in Paris and London.’
He did everything he could to keep himself fed and clothed, especially hotel work. When that wasn’t available, he spent half his time getting chased out of Blackpool by the police and sleeping in tram shelters.
“At least I could always get a wash in the public bathroom,” he chuckles, “so it wasn’t all bad.”
Necessity meant Rory got into a few scrapes in Blackpool, but he adds, “nothing too bad or too illegal really. I was just a young fella trying to survive.”
Rory McClelland acquired a reputation of being a bit of a rogue
Rory then got a job in The Dorchester in Blackpool – there’s a few amusing and slightly off-colour stories in the book about the showgirls in the hotel and one hilarious aside about meeting Tommy Cooper.
Then he followed in his father’s footsteps and joined the British Army. That didn’t work out quite as planned, with a story involving his assigned firearm being particularly noteworthy.
Eventually, he came home and fought to get his house in Claddagh Road before becoming a machine operator at CB Packaging in Clondalkin. Rory, being Rory, stood up for himself during an industrial dispute. He eventually left after seven years to take up a job at the docks.
“After years at the docks I bought myself a van and decided to work for myself. I traded up to a lorry and eventually started an engineering company which did well.”
While Rory was succeeding in business, his home life was imploding. He was married with six children but life at home was combustible. The book contains many of the harrowing details.
I ask Rory why he wrote the book and he tells me, “I got a reputation as being a bit of a rogue and I wanted people to know who I really am and why my life took the wandering path it did. It was important to me that I told the story, rather than someone on the outside who didn’t know the truth.”
Rory is an engaging and likeable fellow and his story really is fascinating. Regretfully, space does not allow me to divulge more details, but believe me, the book is a fabulous read.
The best-dressed man in Ballyfermot will carry on. If you’re around Ballyer and you see an older gentleman in a razor-sharp three-piece and a cravat, say hello. It’ll be Rory.
“The Ragamuffin: The Rory McClelland Story” is available now on Amazon.
