Kilkenny, Ireland. November 7 1982

I remember it quite well. It was just before the shearing of our sheep in 1982. My man and I, ye see, we keep sheep. We've always held them on our farm out in Kilkenny. Connor and I celebrated our thirtieth wedding anniversary that year. I was used to Connor going out in the early morn and coming in late in the evening.

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He tended the sheep and the land, and I kept the home. We work well together that way. It was everyday life, you see. On a Monday morn, Connor met me in the kitchen where we had our typical breakfast. A farmer needs to eat well before he heads out to work. We sat at the table in silence. Connor read the local newspaper while I made fried potatoes, eggs, sausage and fresh tomatoes with toast. After we finished breakfast, it must have been about 6 am. We took our morning tea outside in the early sun. We spoke about the recent events in Kilkenny; the O'Connell boy had been making trouble in the village. Scaring the local folks at night, teasing the cattle and the like. Two weeks prior, Sean O'Connell had let all of Farmer O'Malley's cattle out. That boy kept saying he didn't do it, but we knew that child was always causing mischief.

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We live outside the village, about 5km from our farm, so we only had trouble in May of 82. Our nearest neighbour, Farmer O'Malley's farm, was about 3km away from our farmhouse. Just as every morning at around 6:15, while Connor and I had our tea O'Malley rode by on his tractor. We waved, he waved back, and that was that. Connor kissed me and told me he'd be in at 12 for lunch. Then he headed out into the fields.

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I'm just an old lady, but I remember that day. It was such a strange day. After Connor had gone to the fields, I started my routine. At 6:45, I cleaned the kitchen and started making fresh bread for lunch. That usually took me about 30 minutes; then, I would head to the back of the house and do the washing from the day before. At around 7:30, I was hanging the wash. I heard a loud bang and noticed the power had gone out. I went inside the meter closet and reset the fuses, and the power returned. In old farmhouses, the fuse will blow once in a while, but it happened so much that day. At least once an hour.

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I cleaned my house, dusted, cleaned, and cooked. And at around 9:30 am, my daughter Adelaide rang the phone. She rang every Monday to see how we were doing. We had a friendly chat on the phone; my grandbaby had learned to walk that morning. Adelaide was excited to tell me about it. We spoke for 30 minutes, and then I checked my bread. That's when the fuses blew again. So I reset them and went to the kitchen. My bread was ready, and I took it out of the oven. I prepared lunch for Connor at 11:30. I set the table, two plates, two glasses, knives, and forks. Ye know the primary meal stuff. I had fresh bread, fresh cheese, and butter. I poured two glasses of milk and made a new pot of tea.
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Connor typically comes in around five minutes to 12 for lunch. But this day, he didn't. At quart over 12, he wasn't there either, so I thought there must have been something wrong with one of the sheep. I waited until 1 pm, then went to the sheep shed to see what was happening. As I walked out of the house, the fuses blew again. This time, I left them; I thought I'd flipped the switches when I returned home. I walked out of the house and took a left towards the barn. The barn is about 500 meters from the house. Usually, our dog Johnny greets you as you approach the barn, but he doesn't this time.
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There was nothing strange in the barn, but Connor wasn't there either. So I got on the scooter we kept for getting around the land and went out to the fields. I saw the sheep grazing in the area as usual. But I couldn't find Connor or Johnny anywhere. The sun was shining, and there were plenty of white clouds in the sky. It was just a typical day, but this is not normal behaviour for my Connor. When he leaves the farm, he tells me. I checked all 3 of our fields, and they were nowhere on the land. So I went back to the house. I wasn't worried; my Connor is a strong man. I was sure he was okay. Once back at home, it was now quarter to 2 pm. I flipped the fuses and cleaned up the lunch.
I rang Farmer O'Malley to ask if he had seen or heard from Connor this morning, but like me, the last time he saw Connor was while we were having tea earlier in the morning.
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Between 2 pm and 5 pm, I rang several people. The Dr, Adelaide, and I rang Jonas at the feed store. No one had seen Connor. I rang Constable O'Brien, but he had yet to hear from Connor either. At 5:15, the fuses blew out again. I walked to the back of the house to the fuse box and flipped the switches. As I did that, my Connor burst into the front door; he did not look like my Connor. His overalls were ripped at the knees, and his white hair was dishevelled. His eyes were wild. He was talking fast and sounded very confused. When I asked him where he had been all day, he said he couldn't remember.

He told me he thought someone had hit him on the head. He was in the barn because his head hurt, and he could not remember anything about the day. He said he woke up in the barn just before returning to the farmhouse.
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I still believe it was the O'Connell boy up to no good; I had searched the whole barn, and my Connor wasn't there.
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Sincerely,
Dela Bryne