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had been within hours of his execution in 1940. He saw what was to be his coffin brought into the prison and he knew that the hangman, who had been imported from England, was on site. His cell in 1940 was the prisoners’ recreation room in 1957. The execution chamber was at the end of the wing. According to Ó Brhdaigh, Mac Curtiin was convinced that upon his execution he would go “straight up to heaven.” He had settled his affairs, was prepared to die, and did not expect to be reprieved. When the reprieve came the night before the scheduled execution, it caught him by surprise. The next morning, he told Ó Brádaigh, “I just simply didn’t know what to be doing.” Mac Curtiin was not confused for long. After he was moved from the cell for condemned prisoners, he began organizing the other prisoners. The authorities transferred him to Port Laoise Prison in County Laois. There he refused to wear a prison uniform or do prison work and was laced in solitary confinement (Ó Brádaigh refers to him today as the first “blanketman"). In solitary, Mac Curtiin searched for ways to break the monotony. When a mouse joined him in the cell, he tried to train it to run up one arm and down the other. On the third attempt, it bit him.

      Among the younger prisoners that Ó Brádaigh became close to was David O’Connell. Formally, O’Connell went by the Irish version of his name, DGthi. Informally, he was “Dave.” Tall, thin, and with a Cork accent, he was only 18 years old. He looked to have a good future as a cabinetmaker; in 1955, he had been awarded first prize in Ireland and Britain in his apprenticeship examination and had received a gold medal. Like Ó Brádaigh and so many of their contemporaries, he was from a Republican background; an uncle was bayoneted to death by British soldiers in 1921. The 1955 local elections in the Twenty-Six Counties had caught O’Connell’s attention and he had sought out the Republican Movement. He was interviewed for IRA membership by Mick McCarthy. McCarthy remembers that O’Connell was concerned that he would not be eligible for membership because he had briefly joined the Irish territorial army, the Fórsa Cosanta htiliil (FCA, “Local Defense Force"). He feared that this implicit recognition of the state would make him unacceptable. It was not a serious issue, and O’Connell was recruited into the IRA. O’Connell’s concern is indicative of his intensity and of how careful Republicans were not to recognize the state. He was so intense that in prison he was referred to as “Mise ire,” or “I am Ireland.” Ó Brádaigh first met O’Connell on St. Stephen’s Day, 1956. Ó Brádaigh, as second in command of the Teeling Column, transferred some men to O’Connell, who was second in command of the Pearse Column. In Mountjoy, they developed a friendship that lasted until O’Connell’s death in 1991.

      While in prison Ó Brádaigh was visited regularly by his family. For many families, it would be a disaster to have a son and brother arrested for his involvement in the killing of a police officer. The Ó Brádaighs, who knew that Ruairí was involved in the campaign, were not surprised that he ended up being arrested. It was a likely outcome of being an activist. As far as they were concerned, Scally was a regrettable casualty of war. They did not rejoice at the death but neither were they repulsed by it. The family knew well the risks of involvement in the IRA; Matt Brady had been shot by the RIC, the RUC’s predecessors. Seán Ó Brádaigh’s reaction to Ruairí’s arrest was to be annoyed with the Irish government-in trying to seal the border and in arresting IRA personnel, they were collaborating with the British government. For many people, Republican and Irish Nationalist, the killings of South and O’Hanlon put the killing of Scally into perspective; both “sides" were suffering in a military campaign. The huge funerals for South and O’Hanlon were a source of pride in the cause.

      The family visited Ruairí whenever they could. His mother May traveled by train from Longford to Dublin. On occasion, she was joined by Ruairí’s sister, Mary, who had returned to Ireland in 1955 to study for an MA in English (focusing on John Millington Synge) at University College Dublin. There she had met James Delaney, who was also pursuing an MA. They had married and temporarily moved in with her mother. Under the 1937 Irish Constitution, as a married woman, Mary was ineligible for employment by the state; they were planning a family. Visiting Mountjoy was easiest for Sein, who had followed Mary and Ruairí on to University College Dublin and, like his siblings, was studying to become a teacher. Another regular visitor was Patsy O’Connor, a teacher at Roscommon Vocational School. Patsy, a graduate of University College Galway, had joined the staff in 1953, a year before Ruairí. Her degree was also in commerce; she taught bookkeeping, business methods, shorthand, and typing. They had much in common, including a love of books. She had attended an all-Irish secondary school, and although she was not fluent, she shared his interest in the language. As Patsy describes it, “We could talk about anything. And we still do.” Although they were not engaged, they had an understanding that they would be married. Patsy would take the bus from Roscommon to Longford and then ride to Dublin with May.

      Assorted aunts, uncles, and cousins also visited, including his Uncle Eugene’s family, which was living in Dublin. The families were close, and the Ó BrPdaighs had often visited the Caffreys in Donegal. On one of these visits, when Ruairí was 10, he had worn a blazer with several pockets. The pockets fascinated his 2-year-old cousin Deirdre, who went through each one of them. Ruairí, a very serious youngster, told her mother that she should teach the child to not go through men’s pockets or else when she grew up she would go to jail. On her first visit to Mountjoy, Deirdre, now 16, bounced into the visitor’s box, looked at Ruairí, and asked, “Who went to jail?” It became a standing inside joke between the two of them.

      Life and politics go on outside of prison. So do IRA campaigns. Republican prisoners follow external political events as closely as they can. Visits from family and friends are important sources of information. On occasion, IRA prisoners become central players in external political events; in late January 1957, Sein Mac Bride, TD, put forward a motion of no confidence in the government, primarily because of Costello’s actions against the IRA. The government fell and Costello called an election for March 5th.

      Republicans are always interested in elections, even when they do not participate in them. March 1957 was great timing for participation. The campaign had made Northern Ireland an important issue in 26county politics. The deaths of O’Hanlon and South had generated enormous sympathy for the cause, and the movement had several promising candidates to offer the public, including Feargal O’Hanlon’s brother, Éighneachán. Others included Paddy Mulcahy, a city councilor in Limerick; John Joe McGirl, the highly respected Leitrim publican and a prisoner in Mountjoy; and Ruairí Ó Brádaigh. At the encouragement of the Ó Brádaigh family, Ruairí was selected as Sinn Ftin’s candidate at a Longford-Westmeath constituency convention. In Mountjoy, and with some hints from Tony Magan, he wrote his first election address. It was later adopted as Sinn Ftin’s general manifesto for the election. He pledged to work for the unity and independence of Ireland and to take a seat only in a 32-county All-Ireland Parliament.

      Ruairí Ó Brádaigh was an ideal candidate for a seat in LongfordWestmeath. Longford had a history of electing Republican prisoners; in 1917, Joe McGuinness won in South Longford. Ó Brádaigh’s campaign adopted McGuinness’s slogan: “Put him in to get him out.” Ballads were composed, including one that began, “In Bridewell court one Monday morning, In this land the State calls Free.” The Ó Brádaigh name was prominent throughout the constituency. Older people remembered Matt Brady, a county councilor from 1934 to 1942 and a member of the Mullingar Mental Hospital Committee. For thirty-six years, May Brady Twohig had been the secretary of the Longford Board of Health, certifying birth, death, and marriage records. Mary Delaney was Ruairí’s election agent, and May and Sein actively worked on the campaign.

      Republican Longford rose to the occasion. People who for years had rejected any form of constitutional participation were mobilized. Sein F. Lynch’s mother-in-law, a staunch Republican, voted for Ó Brádaigh; it was the first time she had voted in a general election since the 1920s. The family’s efforts were not without their humorous side. Calling at a house one day, Sein asked the occupant if he would be willing to work for Ruairí’s campaign. The man replied, “Yes, of course I will work for your brother. I voted for Joe McGuinness in 1918 [to re-elect McGuinness], I voted for de Valera in 1932, and I voted for SeAn Mac Bride in 1948. And of course I will vote for your brother now.” In each case, he had voted for the most “Republican" candidate available. SeAn kept to himself the view that de Valera had gone on to arrest and execute Republicans and that Mac Bride had

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