In conversation with FRANCES O'ROURKE
MYLES THORN
is managing director of Thorn Environmental, an Irish company he started 14 years ago which supplies Earth2Earth biodegradable and compostable bags to a wide range of businesses. He and his wife Imelda have two children and three grandchildren.
‘FERGUS AND I met in the 1980s when he’d moved from Cork to work with Dick Spring. We lived in Clarinda Park in Dún Laoghaire, in a house that was a massive restoration job. Our kids started school in St Joseph’s and my daughter Sarah and Fergus’s Emma became inseparable friends. My wife Imelda and Frieda Finlay were friends too, on the PTA together.
“I only knew Fergus a little from school meetings, and had an opinion of him that wasn’t very favourable; I found him very reserved. He’s actually quite shy but covers it up well – the difference between the public Fergus and the personal Fergus is huge. The public would see the cerebral side, where friends and family would see the caring side.
“One thing we have in common is that we’re both passionate about our families, about our children and now grandchildren. Imelda and I got married when I was 20 and she was 19; our son Adam is 33 and our daughter Sarah is nine months younger – yes, Irish twins. The family grew up together and we adored our kids.
“After tennis, Fergus and I would invariably end up back in my house for a few beers, maybe watch a bit of rugby. We both stopped playing tennis eventually, but now we’re members of Glen of the Downs golf club and play most Saturdays. Fergus says he hasn’t a competitive bone in his body but it’s not true: ask him after he’s checked his own score every week, whose score does he look at next.
“Our daughters ended up with new friends after they went to secondary school, but our families have remained great friends. On our 30th wedding anniversary – it was also the year we turned 50 – we went away to Italy with all our children and various friends and family. In 20 years, we’ve only missed one Christmas morning together.
“Fergus and I share a sense of humour, have great craic together. We do come from very different worlds and I think that may be part of the attraction. We don’t share friends in common, except at golf. I’m not political, would describe myself as a capitalist with a social conscience. We discuss politics for hours on end, and while I’d be more conservative than him he respects my position.
“I have huge admiration for Fergus. He’s completely selfless in what he does, working on various committees for the underprivileged. If he’d put his energy and drive into a business career, he’d be a multi-millionaire by now. We’ve both had lots of ups and down, and Fergus is very attentive and caring, the first to pick up the phone. I think of him as large – in stature, in personality, in brain power, in sense of humour. I have many friends but few as deep as Fergus – we have a special bond that’s quite unique.”
FERGUS FINLAY
is ceo of Barnardos, a media commentator and author, and was political adviser to former Labour Party leader Dick Spring. He lives in Glenageary, Co Dublin, with his wife Frieda. They have four daughters and two grandchildren.
‘I WOULD NEVER HAVE said that Myles and I would be friends; we’re chalk and cheese. I think I would have been seen as not a lot of fun, prone to argument. Seán Duignan said that if Dick Spring wasn’t prickly, I was prickly for him.
“My wife Frieda and Myles’s wife Imelda met in the 1980s through the PTA in St Joseph’s on Tivoli Road in Dún Laoghaire. Frieda made witches for a Halloween party and Myles and I were brought in to stick them to the wall. Our daughters Emma and Sarah were great friends.
“Myles had set up a small business importing black plastic bags; he made a living but I think he found it unfulfilling. So he signed on to do an MBA at the Smurfit Graduate Business School and reinvented himself. He had two kids and a mortgage – my admiration for him grew and grew. He decided he’d be the first person in Ireland to produce biodegradable bags and now has a successful niche business.
“Frieda and Imelda decided tennis had to be taken up; it had something to do with waist size. But we weren’t great tennis players, although Myles went on to be better than me. I discovered golf after I stopped working in politics. Now Frieda says I’m a golf whore. Myles and I both play, we’re both mid-range golfers. There’s a competition every week and a 0.5 point in my favour. Myles’s great ambition in life is to beat that – and he never will.
“We’re both big family men; our children went through all the usual phases, and his Adam and Sarah are brilliant. Myles and Imelda have an unfailing sense of humour – you can’t come away from them without feeling upbeat. It’s really refreshing that you can have someone you can talk to about everything but politics. I never asked Myles to vote a particular way; I suspect he’d say eff off if I did.
“I know socialists who can walk past wounded people and think the State should do something. Myles couldn’t; he’s always going to be one of nature’s Samaritans.
“Years ago, I was in Sweden and conversation turned to friendship. This woman said, ‘We have lots of friends, they are all Social Democrats and we sit and talk politics’. I said, ‘In Ireland, I’d have to exclude 85 per cent of people if I only had Labour friends’, adding that I thought a friend was someone you can have crack with, can rely on, can get advice from. ‘But do you not have experts for that?’ she asked.
“In politics I have loads of friends, people I started working with 30 years ago and we’re all still close. But I can’t talk to any of them about kids and dogs and stuff as I can with Myles – I don’t have any real secrets from him.”