The name Donncha Dulaing will have different connotations depending on your age and your radio listening habits.If you grew up in 1950s Ireland he might have a special place in your heart. You'll remember him from the radio programme Highways and By-ways. He may have made you laugh with his authentically detailed anecdotes or the cupla focail slipped in here and there.If you encountered him on one of his jaunts around the country you wouldn't have known he was from RTE at all except for the ever-present microphone. He had no Donnybrook accent, no airs and graces. He was fresh and lively and a good listener. He was interested in the ordinary.It may seem hard to believe but there are some people who don't know who he is. They are the ones brought up on Ray d'Arcy and Zig and Zag. They roll their eyes or look at you blankly when you ask what they think of Donncha O Dulaing. But if you are a regular listener to The Last Word on Today FM you know a slightly different Donncha. He is Donncha O Bumlichan , the blustering buffoon who pops up on the show every now and again."He is a huge success with listeners. They were addicted to him," says the creator of the character based on O Dulaing.The Last Word had O Bumlichan waxing lyrical on the snacks that would be prepared by well-wishers for him on boreens around the country while on his endless walks for charity."There was hang sangiches and there was cheese sangiches and there was mixed ham and cheese sangiches," O Bumlichan would declare. Everybody had sangiches for Donncha.Friends say he never gets offended at this, or at the numerous take-offs featured in Scrap Saturday. "He would be more likely to be chuffed about it," said one RTE colleague.Donncha Dulaing was born 65 years ago in Charleville, Co Cork. In interviews he has talked about his father dying when he was just 13. His mother observed strict mourning protocol for a whole year, even covering the radio with a black cloth. The future of broadcasting was saved when the woman next door let him listen to her radio. He left school at 15 and spent the next eight years as a dental technician. He read avidly, his beloved Irish poetry and Penguin paperbacks. His lifelong love affair with the GAA began when he watched Cork and Tipperary play to a draw in Limerick in 1949.His then girlfriend Vera, a teacher, encouraged him to further his education. The couple later married and had five children.He completed an arts degree in University College Cork and graduated with honours at the age of 28. After a brief stint as a teacher, the fluent Irish-speaker left to become a trainee manager with Ford in Dagenham, England. When he went for the interview for programme assistant at Radio Eireann's regional office in Cork they asked him why he wanted the job."I think radio will broaden my mind," he said."And if you don't get this job?""I'll apply again."There was no stopping him. Friends reflecting on his career to date mention "resilience" and "determination" as key O Dulaing traits. HIS first interviews were featured in a weekly magazine programme called A Woman's World produced by the late Sile Ni Bhriain. But his big break came when he propositioned the late President Eamon de Valera, who had attended his old school in Charleville, about conducting an interview about his childhood in Bruree, Co Limerick."I'd like to do a series of interviews with you," said O Dulaing. "Why?" asked de Valera after a pause. "Because you're the only one from my school who became president," he answered.O Dulaing's hard neck and persistence paid off. Several visits to Aras an Uachtarain and 14 1/2 hours of tapes later a series of programmes entitled The Boy from Bruree emerged. A Munster Journal was his most prolific series from this time.He moved to Dublin and was promoted to Head of Features but subsequently resigned from the post, anxious to get back on the road.In 1972 he began co-presenting Three 0 One, a programme that with typical RTE cunning began at one minute past three. This morphed into Highways and Byways where Donncha travelled the country talking to musicians, teachers, the old and the young about their life and stories. It was axed 10 years later amid speculation that RTE was concerned that O Dulaing's nationalistic overtones in some interviews might breach Section 31 of the Broadcasting Act.Since then he has hardly been off the airwaves, doing some television, writing a book and walking around the country and the world for charities such as the Irish Wheelchair Association. Despite turning 65 and retiring from the staff of RTE he will continue with his current weekly radio offering, the music and requests programme Failte Isteach.He sits in his self-operated studio like "a child with a new toy", observers say. Pressing buttons, locating CDs and interacting with an audience that includes listeners in central Europe and middle America. "He treats every broadcast like the first. He has huge enthusiasm and life in him," says a friend.Last year O Dulaing, who will publish an autobiography this year, lamented that Radio Eireann had "lost the soul of Ireland", saying it was only concerned with losing listeners. "They're all out of step but me," he often tells himself when he thinks of this. "I'm Radio Eireann."