11th NightJul 11th, 2006 | By Ian Poulton | Category: Ireland
The last light fades on 11th July.
In towns and villages across the North the bonfires would now be lit. Some of them, 30-40 feet high, have taken months to build and will necessitate a visit from the local fire brigade. Youths who have drunk copious amounts of beer over the past few evenings will break out large packs of cheap lager tonight. There will be the echo of drums in some areas, rhythms intended to intimidate those who were of a different tradition.
And yet I have happy memories of 11th nights. In the little country parish where I spent seven years we would have gathered for a barbecue on the Rectory front lawn. There was a holiday mood, the following day being perhaps the only day off some of the farmers would take in the whole summer.
There would have sometimes been as many as a hundred people. The older people would sit around in clusters; the children would play football and run amongst the trees. The last to leave would gather around the glowing embers of the barbecues, the last light from the charcoal illuminating their faces against the purple inkiness of the summer night sky.
They were good moments. I don’t remember words of hatred or confrontation. They would have had fundamental disagreements with each other. Some were Orangemen, some were Unionists, but amongst our numbers were others who were openly supporters of the SDLP. The district master of the Orange Order would have brought his Catholic neighbours with him; they would share drinks during the evening.
In the best of times there will always be bad moments, but in the worst of times there will be good moments. The next morning brought a trip to the town to watch the bands and the local lodges marching down to the bus station to go off to the town where the âFieldâ? for that year was located.
Few of them ever remembered the speeches, probably because few of them ever listened. It was about taking part, about sharing company and friendship and solidarity.
Another 11th night passes and the old memories are gone. Perhaps there will be a bright brand new day when people can again gather on the lawn with no shadow of hatred or violence.