There can’t be too many men from working-class backgrounds who earned a PhD in chemistry yet described themselves as an “accidental scientist”. But Dr Robert Maguire wasn’t like many other men.
Born in the Market area of south Belfast in 1949, Bobby, younger brother of Mary and Peter, showed an unusual intelligence and intellectual curiosity from an early age.
Dedicated to his schoolwork and showing a flair for all subjects, contemporaries remember trips to the local library where they would borrow wild west annuals, while Bobby’s reading list could be anything from Roman history to scientific journals.
After passing the 11-plus and attending St Mary’s Grammar School, Bobby was enrolled into Queen’s University Belfast where he read chemistry and remained to complete a doctorate.
It was also around this time he met his future wife, Liz. They would have three children, Michael, Cathy and Niall. A fourth, Fiona, tragically died just a few hours after birth.
After a brief period as an industrial chemist with Courtaulds, Bobby tried teaching and immediately found his vocation. Despite lucrative job offers in the private sector, he decided to stay and he became head of science at St Patrick’s, Bearnageeha in north Belfast in 1976.
For someone as eminently qualified and with such marketable skills, to choose to stay and work in one of the most deprived areas of the city – and during of one the most dangerous periods of the conflict – betrayed a rare sense of public service.
For someone as eminently qualified and with such marketable skills, to choose to stay and work in one of the most deprived areas of the city – and during one the most dangerous periods of the conflict – betrayed a rare sense of public service
Scores of young lads with no interest in science took O-Level chemistry because of Dr Maguire’s dedication and charisma and I should know – I was one of them.
Bobby would also recall how a brilliant student who was denied re-entry to nearby St Malachy’s College because he refused to cut his hair asked if he could join his A-Level class. “What are you interested in?” the teacher asked. “Artificial intelligence,” came the reply.
Telling the story 40 years after that young fella went from his lab in Bearnageeha to Oxford, he still had a twinkle in his eye at helping put one over his celebrated neighbours down the road.
After years of helping kids pass exams, Bobby said farewell to St Patrick’s and joined CCEA where he helped set GCSE and A-Level papers.
While science provided a good living, Bobby always said his first loves were Irish history, culture and language.
He was an avid collector of Irish literature and among his most treasured tomes were the Annals of Ulster and Annals of Ireland. And while the United Irishmen were of particular interest, books such as On the Manners and Customs of the Ancient Irish lent forensic, scholarly detail to his passions.
A lifelong Irish News reader, he became firm friends with the newspaper’s celebrated columnist, the late historian Dr Eamon Phoenix.
Having had to give up the Irish language for science in junior school, in 1971 Bobby reawakened his slumbering gaeilgeoir with classes in Cluan Ard and became a fluent speaker.
Sport, particularly handball, also played a huge part in his life. A game he learned on the gable walls around his childhood home of Catherine Street, he became a skilled player for Queen’s and continued his association with the club long after graduation.
Bobby was the secretary of the Ulster Handball Council, leading delegations to GAA HQ in Croke Park.
He also took on a unionist-dominated Belfast City Council and successfully campaigned to have handball courts in leisure centres. While a lifelong and committed republican, his desire for social justice informed his vision of a new Ireland rather than ideological fervour.
Bobby need not be remembered for anything more in death than he was in life. He will be recalled warmly as a good and decent man, a loving husband, father, grandfather, brother and uncle, who gave his considerable gifts and talents in the hope of helping others.
Dr Robert Maguire died aged 74 on April 23 after a battle with oesophageal cancer. He is survived by his wife, children and five grandchildren.