Wednesday, February 10 2010

Analysis

Cowen joins country in that sinking feeling


By Lise Hand in Ballinasloe

Tuesday November 24 2009

THERE was a bite to the wind which swept across Ballinasloe's inundated town square and the evening gloom was gathering by the time the Taoiseach arrived to survey the damage.

And as he stood and surveyed his fifth such desolate scene of the day, it seemed to sum up what he may one day come to regard as his very own annus horribilis.

From deep recession to tottering banks to strikes to the treacherous Hand of Gaul, neither Brian Cowen nor the citizenry of Ireland can seem to catch a break these days.

The floods may have begun to recede in Ballinasloe, Co Galway, but the misery visited on families caught up in the deluge is still in full flow.

Yesterday afternoon, the road bearing the grimly-apt name of River Street was still swamped. Fountains of water spouted from the doorways of houses on both sides as the laborious task of pumping out the flood got under way.

Newborn lakes formed by an overflowing River Suck eddied around the bottom of the sloping Market Square in the town centre, encircling the Catholic church, St Michael's -- the weekend Masses were held in its Protestant comrade, St John's.

But the floods wrought the most havoc in some of the housing estates just outside the town. The pretty Willow Park development was engulfed and the homes evacuated last Thursday night.

Some residents were back yesterday to survey the damage and pack up some undamaged possessions, under the watchful eye of civil defence personnel who had been patrolling the area constantly to discourage looters.

One couple, Tina Hickey and Colm Ward, were horrified by the extent of the damage to the ground floor -- furniture ruined, doors and floorboards buckling, and the strong, sour smell of sewage.

"It's hard to know where to start," said a weary Tina. They have three children, one of whom came down with chickenpox over the weekend.

"It all happened so fast -- it was just lucky I had the rubber dinghy upstairs to get the kids out," said Tom.

It was the sheer speed at which the catastrophe was unleashed on the town which shocked the locals, even though they knew trouble was on the way.

"Everything changed in the space of four hours on Thursday,"explained Galway East TD Noel Treacy, who had been collecting tales of woe from residents for the previous four days.

There was one extended family near Tuam who had two adjoining houses destroyed while a third was under threat from the water; and there was a man in Gort who went to his shed last Friday morning to check his cattle and found the animals up to their necks in water, and had to wade about keeping their heads above water-level until he could get them out.

Noel was on high alert for the arrival of his boss. The Taoiseach was spending yesterday on a whistlestop tour of the worst-hit areas. He began yesterday morning in Clonmel, Co Tipperary, then went to Cork city, Ennis, Co Clare, Claregalway and finally Ballinasloe.

And every town had a profusion of sorry stories to share with him, so it was inevitable that his schedule would quickly go awry, with the result that he was almost an hour-and-a-half late by the time the army helicopter touched down just before 4pm in the carpark of Portiuncla hospital.

Sadly for anyone expecting to see Brian Cowen emerge in full emergency ensemble of waders -- or wellies at the very least -- fluorescent-coloured rain-jacket and woolly hat, they were immediately disappointed.

It was business as usual -- pinstripe suit, wool coat and the sort of black shoes which would be destroyed by the average-sized puddle. But did he have wellies with him?

"Yes, well, no -- they're mine, actually," admitted one of his entourage.

The Taoiseach's first stop was the flooded Market Square, where he inspected the havoc wreaked by the water -- several businesses and houses were still semi-submerged.

There weren't too many locals about, but he shook a few hands as he walked around the square.

"Are you coming to have a look at our road?" asked one woman.

"I'll go wherever," he told her.

Others were anxious to know how they would find the money to repair their houses.

"Will you look after us here?" requested a couple of men. Brian was sympathetic but noncommital.

"I'll do my best," he replied.

Speaking to the media, he said the flooding would be discussed at Cabinet today.

"What we have to do is assess the full impact of all of this and in the past we've seen the insurance industry takes its responsibilities. But obviously where there's extreme hardship on a humanitarian basis, you'd have to try and help people who have a particular difficulty," he said.

Volunteers

"Thankfully there's been no loss of life," he added, paying tribute to the volunteer work of the locals. "Without that volunteering effort we can throw our hat at it, in my opinion."

Brian was then taken on a high-speed tour of the flooded housing estates and the stricken River Street, before he had to tiptoe over an impromptu walkway of sandbags leading to the entrance to the town council offices where he was briefed by the various groups dealing with the flooding.

The Taoiseach looked a bit weary after a day of travelling ("without a bite to eat or a cup of tea," one of his entourage confided) as he listened to pleas for relief-funding for residents of the more than 80 homes which had to be evacuated.

Finally, just after 6pm, his tour of the watery war zones came to an end.

And he finally got a mug of tea and a slice of fruit cake in the front room of a local woman's house before he headed for home.

But there are more storms ahead of him -- not least the turbulent storm front building outside Leinster House today.

- Lise Hand in Ballinasloe

Irish Independent