The strong ties that bind a suffering community were evident at an emotional funeral, writes Kathy Sheridanin Limerick
THE CITY of Limerick stood still for the funeral yesterday morning of Shane Geoghegan, the popular 28-year-old Garryowen rugby player shot dead last Sunday within yards of his home after being mistaken for a drug dealer.
Several thousand mourners lined the streets and crowded into St Joseph's Church on the city's main thoroughfare. Two gardaí manned the door as the young man's coffin, draped in the pale blue and white-starred flag of Garryowen RFC, was borne into the church by colleagues wearing matching navy jackets bearing the name of their employer, Atlanta Aero Engineering, where Shane worked as a fitter.
Among the offertory gifts on a side-table, a well-played rugby ball with the captain's name on it in ink was placed inside the hard-fought Gleeson League trophy.
Below the altar stood a framed caricature of Shane, flopping in shallow water like a big, beaming child. Close to a spray of lilies to "dearest Shane", from his mother Mary and brother, Anthony, was another large floral wreath spelling out his nickname, "Gagsy", with an accompanying card from "The Lads".
Over an hour before the ceremony began, the church filled up with serried rows of sombre men, from schoolboys to white-haired rugby veterans, many in their club blazers.
Wreaths and representatives from clubs such as Galwegians, Greystones, St Mary's and Naas RFC attested to the links forged on muddy pitches all over Ireland. Former national coach and Garryowen stalwart, Eddie O'Sullivan, took his seat near a heavy IRFU contingent headed by its president, John Lyons.
The Munster branch was represented by Nick Comyns, president, and honorary secretary, Jim Riordan, as well as a swathe of Munster rugby figures such as captain, Paul O'Connell, Jerry Flannery, David Wallace, Shaun Payne and Kieran Lewis along with London Wasps player, Eoin Reddan, who went to school with Shane.
As violinist Liz Kiely played the poignant Lament for Limerick, the congregation - which included the Taoiseach's aide-de-camp; Minister for Defence Willie O'Dea; Assistant Commissioner Kevin Ludlow; Supt Frank O'Brien, and robed members of the city council - heard Fr Jim Maher deliver a strongly-worded eulogy, describing Shane's death as "an affront to our city and our community . . . It is sad to say that our safety from violent crime is not even guaranteed in the vicinity of our own homes. . . and that raises many questions on the direction our city and country are going in."
Fr Maher, who taught Shane at Crescent College Comprehensive, said that a shocked teacher there had blurted out that Shane was "a gentle giant . . . and in some ways, that summed him up. He was physically robust, strong, but gentle . . . But he was not a saint," he added, in one of the day's rare light moments.
There was a soft ripple of laughter as Fr Maher described Shane's tendency to have a quick smoke behind the bushes when the teachers weren't looking and he also noted the "short space of time" in which it took him to go from being a winger to a prop.
He was "popular, well-liked, a valuable and committed rugby player . . ."
There was "an enormous amount of respect for Shane. All I can say to Mary and Tom is that you can take great pride in your son . . . His ultimate homecoming will be into the house of God and to his sister Katie [Shane's 12-year-old sister, who died from cancer] and now he is safe from any further harm."
Like many in Limerick this week, Fr Maher expressed the hope that Shane's death would mark a turning point, "so we can live without fear in our own homes and neighbourhoods and that the cycle of violence can be short-circuited and consigned to history".
A message from Bishop Donal Murray was read out in which he referred to "this senseless killing" as "another sad reflection on the more sinister aspects of our city . . . and further evidence of the futility of this evil feud and the callous inhumanity in which it is pursued".
He called for people to show solidarity by reporting any relevant information on the murder to the Garda.
The Communion music was a recording of Guns 'n' Roses's November Rain: "So never mind the darkness/ We still can find a way/ 'Cause nothin' lasts forever Even cold November rain."
Speaking for the family, Shane's brother Anthony simply recited a poem by British poet, David Harkins: "You can shed tears that he is gone or you can smile because he has lived.
"You can close your eyes and pray that he'll come back or you can open your eyes and see all he's left.
"Your heart can be empty because you can't see him or you can be full of the love you shared.
"You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday.
"You can remember him and only that he's gone or you can cherish his memory and let it live on.
"You can cry and close your mind, be empty and turn your back or you can do what he'd want: smile, open your eyes, love and go on."
In a vast outpouring of sympathy and emotion, the entire congregation rose and applauded, joined by many of the 13 priests on the altar. Ellie Walsh, a relative of the family, then sang Panis Angelicus.
Anthony wept as he shouldered his brother's coffin out into the sunlit day, through a long guard of honour made up of Garryowen club members and Atlanta work-mates. Many of the congregation chose to walk the 3 kilometre distance to Old Mungret Cemetery.
The chief mourners were Shane's parents, Tom and Mary, his brother Anthony and his girlfriend Jenna. Also present were deputies Charlie Flanagan, Kieran O'Donnell, Peter Power, Michael Noonan and Jan O'Sullivan; Mayor of Limerick John Gilligan and Judge Tom O'Donnell.