VIKTOR Frankl was an Austrian psychiatrist and Holocaust survivor. By the time he passed away in 1997 his book Man’s Search for Meaning had sold over 10 million copies and been translated into 24 languages.
I’d like to impress you all now by writing about how I’d bought one of those 10 million but I cannot lie. In truth I’d never heard of the book, or its author, until yesterday.
Jody Gormley had read it though.
And 30 years ago he recommended it to his good friend Paddy Heaney, my former colleague at The Irish News.
Paddy gave a typically thoughtful eulogy at Jody’s funeral on Thursday. During a touching, sometimes amusing/always sincere oration, he spoke of his initial shock when he heard the news during the summer that Jody wasn’t well.
Who? Jody? Jody Gormley? What? No way! For God’s sake the man was never out of the gym! Sure he could bench press 100kg “for five reps”, he could dead-lift 200kg “for five reps”...
“Jody would have been too modest to tell you that (how much he could lift),” said Paddy.
“But he’d have wanted me to have told you that.”
Yes, Jody was in his prime, he was motoring on when the fickle finger of fate so unfairly singled him out. But he did not complain, he refused to feel sorry for himself. On the contrary, in the shadow of death he doubled down on living.
You might say, we all might say: ‘I couldn’t do as he did’ but his passing has taught us that, while we don’t get to choose our time to go, we can at least influence, if not choose, the manner in which we go.
“He showed us how to live and he showed us how to die,” said Paddy who had met with Jody several times over the past months.
A devoted father, husband, son and brother. A loyal friend, a trusted team-mate, colleague teacher and mentor. A compassionate human being who was determined to end his days on his terms with positivity and wisdom.
He was an inspirational leader of men and as you would expect, the Good Shepherd Church in Belfast was packed. It was standing-room only in the chapel and they were packed out the doors of the nearby parish centre.
Former Tyrone team-mates crammed in beside old rivals from many other counties including Antrim players from the Tommy Murphy Cup-winning side who formed a guard of honour on the Ormeau Road.
Jody’s Trillick players lined both sides of the chapel and two of the eucharistic ministers were young men from the St Macartan’s club. There were representatives from many other clubs including the local Bredagh club for whom Jody lined out in the latter stages of his playing days and later guided to the Down junior title.
And there were teaching colleagues from the Abbey CBGS along with other schools and many friends who came to offer support and comfort to Jody’s wife Deirdre and his children Aine, James and Niamh as they laid the man to rest.
Jody came across as a confident person but in no way over-bearing. The priest who said the funeral Mass explained how, in his younger years, Jody had often prayed that he would have confidence in his life and confidence in himself.
The self-belief he worked at was nurtured during his years playing in midfield for his beloved Tyrone. He was an All-Ireland U21 winner and came so close to winning the Sam Maguire in 1995 when the Red Hands were pipped at the post by Dublin.
Earlier in that season, Jody had scored the winner in a claustrophobic Ulster Championship semi-final against Derry at Clones. That was the proudest moment of his career.
GOING back to that book Man’s Search for Meaning.
Paddy Heaney stressed that it is far from light-reading.
“David Beckham by David Beckham it is not,” Paddy explained as giggles broke out among the congregation.
The premise of Frankl’s book is that all human life has meaning - right to the end, even in death. Right to the last breath, where there is life there is hope. Jody was inspired by Frankl’s view and that is why he was so open in his remarkable interviews with this newspaper and the GAA Social podcast.
He showed us another way and by doing so he added to his legacy.
Peter McGinnity, the Fermanagh GAA legend and former manager who helped Jody manage the Trillick footballers to the Tyrone senior championship last year and to the final this season, gave the second reading at the funeral: “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith…”
Never has that Gospel passage seemed so fitting.
After Mass the funeral cortege took Jody 75 miles to his native Trillick for burial in home soil. The route was lined by old friends and well-wishers and there will be many stories told about Jody Gormley for years to come.
I don’t claim to have known him well.
I can only recall meeting him in the flesh once, yet fate decreed that I would have two very personal conversations with him during his last months in this world.
I was thinking I’d like to have met him in our younger years and gone to a disco in a GAA hall somewhere to spend the night head-banging to AC/DC.
That would have been good craic but then it dawned on me: Unlike so many of us, he never lost his passion for music, he was rocking out to AC/DC his whole life.
That was part of his magic.
As we all do, I thank the man for giving me the time he did and I wish the best for his family and close friends. Rest in peace Jody.
Right, I’m away to start Man’s Search for Meaning.
