When Joe Rooney died, the light in the Rooney household and in Newry got a little dimmer. Joe, in life, was a riot of colour. He could beam.
He was a man who gave much but asked for little – though according to the family, he always asked for extra gravy or apple sauce.
Joe loved his town and it loved him back.
Growing up in lean times, he was one of seven siblings, along with Seamus, John, Oliver, Kevin, May and Christine, born to John Charles and Annie Rooney.
The Newry of Joe’s youth was scourged by high unemployment and declining sunset industries, textile mills and the port. Like many of his generation, he was energised by the emerging civil rights movement. He consumed news and was a lifelong Irish News reader – often giving this writer his tuppence-worth on my columns.
Joe’s heart was in Newry, and not even the town of the Seven Towers, Ballymena, could lure him away for long.
So having met the love of his life, Co Antrim native Sheila, they returned to rear their family as ‘Nyuks’.
Sheila and Joe Rooney made for a very handsome couple who never fell out of love, no matter what life threw at them.
It was joy to see them together whether at a céilí or church.
They were in step together throughout a marriage of 61 years and six children, Cora, Shauna, Gerard, Elaina, Roisin and Sinead.
Joe loved music – all kinds of music, classical, popular and traditional. And he loved to sing. He was a long-standing member of the Cloughmore Male Voice Choir.
Joe was a giver and he gave of his time generously to organisations like the credit union, where served for 49 years as a volunteer director and activist. This writer had the privilege of serving 24 of those years alongside him. Annual journeys to credit union conventions were peppered with Joe’s stories, all told in great detail.
He was a passionate and principled man. Proud of his roots, he was always an advocate for the working man and woman.
He believed very much in the practice of a hand up or a hand out whenever needed. A staunch socialist, unlike Mrs Thatcher he supported the existence of society, and that it was incumbent in any such society to protect its most vulnerable and weakest.
Many a credit committee meeting approving loans would grossly overrun as Joe would plead the case for those in dire need of what could be a life-changing loan. He passionately believed in dignity in the financial affairs of the working person.
Running into Joe in the street was like getting a spontaneous individual podcast. Always informative, knowledgeable and entertaining, he was full of opinions, all soundly based on his ability to absorb and process information.
Joe was a well-read man. He knew that education was easily carried and as parents, Joe and Sheila stretched themselves to ensure their children would well equipped for the future.
Joe cared as much about the built environment as those who lived in it.
Along with others he formed the Canal Street Residents Regeneration Association and agitated for this historic area not to be bulldozed in the pursuit of modernity. It’s testimony to his efforts that the streetscape now remains mostly in tact.
In later years Joe was a familiar figure around Newry as walked everywhere, usually in his trademark sandals, khaki shorts and brandishing his stick. Rain, snow or hail was no deterrent.
He loved a good debate and however robust the arguments, Joe held no animosity afterwards. When his lean physique shrugged back those shoulders and strained his neck ever so slightly, you knew there was a point coming.
Joe was a man full of energy. He loved to travel, soaking up culture and the sun. Blessed with an inquisitive mind, he always asking questions.
Pope Francis recently said: “We have a duty to do good... because grace is not part of consciousness – it is the light in our soul.”
Joe Rooney was a man of deeply-held convictions both in faith and life. His soul was aflame through his unconscious and often unrecognised good deeds and generous words.
Rest in peace Joe.
Joe Rooney was buried on July 13 2024 and is survived by his devoted wife, Sheila, grieving children Cora, Shauna, Gerard, Elaina, Roisin and Sinead, along with his 12 grandchildren and siblings Kevin, May and Christine.
Tom Kelly
