An amazing Irish summer; Steve Lynch hangs on; The tragic consequences of ‘joyriding’ and youthful malaise

“I’d love to promise that the sun will shine on you, but I can’t!”  This was my sign-off on this page in my last dispatch at the start of the summer, a message to all readers intending to make the trip “home” in July or August.  As it turns out, I shouldn’t have been so negative and I couldn’t have been more wrong.

For we had the most amazing, dry, and warm stretch of weather in the quarter of a century I have lived here.  Temperatures climbed to circa 90 degrees Fahrenheit on several occasions; it was “Boston hot.”  July was the second hottest month since 1900 and reportedly the driest on record.

Many of the renowned lush green fields and golf courses morphed into dry, baked, brown, rock-hard surfaces.  It was easy to bounce a basketball on the fairways of Wicklow Golf Club and on the typically sodden grassy field in our housing estate. 

I often scoff at Irish people who go to the beach and swim when the air is pretty brisk and virtually no American would dream of getting into the icy cold sea, but there was good reason to of late.

The beaches were thronged daily.  For once, I could completely understand.  I was tempted enough to take the plunge myself a couple of times.  Above all, the collective spirits of the entire country were lifted; it may have been unusual, yet we swiftly got accustomed to the sun.  Our gang barbequed constantly, save for when we wanted a break from meat.  And the tropical weather was a perfect justification for us to eat loads of ice cream and drink plenty of beer and cider – to cool off, of course.

With disclaimers that they weren’t trying to spoil everyone’s fun, forecasters and scientists did warn repeatedly that the very pleasant conditions had to be seen in the context of climate change. While we in Ireland felt all the benefits, the European continent experienced dangerously high temperatures, well in excess of 100 degrees Fahrenheit.  Wildfires and thousands of deaths attributable to heat followed.

This deeply problematic, man-made phenomenon can no longer be dismissed or wished away, despite what the president of the United States and his acolytes say.  It is an existential crisis.  Climate chaos is on our doorstep and serious measures, not mere gestures, are needed.

It may, therefore, be somewhat hypocritical to celebrate the Irish summer of 2026.  Nevertheless, it was glorious.  And I’m wistfully recalling those lazy, hazy days as I type these words, staring out my office window at the rain and listening to the wind whistling on an early September afternoon in Galway.

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I monitored Patrick Roath’s primary challenge to incumbent US Representative Stephen Lynch in Massachusetts 8th Congressional District avidly.  It is my home turf and my uncle, Brian Donnelly, served much of this territory on Capitol Hill for seven terms.  Roath is an intelligent and articulate young attorney who posed a genuine threat to the former ironworker from South Boston who succeeded the late Joe Moakley in 2001.  We all know that the environs have changed dramatically in the intervening years.

Each death notice of a long-time resident with an Irish surname and every real estate transaction in the city and close-in suburbs arguably translated into a further erosion of Lynch’s base.  Gentrification has had a transformative effect. By way of example, it is unlikely that my or any of my pals’ parents could have afforded to buy houses in East Milton, where we are so proud to be from.  Generally speaking, the newcomers are well-educated and well-paid.

Their politics tend to be to the left of those who they purchased their properties from.  Progressive Democrats have slowly but surely been replacing moderate and conservative Democrats.  In this milieu, it appeared that Lynch could potentially be defeated.  Wisely, Lynch and his team recognised their electoral peril and took nothing for granted.  Even though his vote share dropped in numerous municipalities and he lost the sections of Boston in the district to Roath, the 71-year-old won the contest by approximately 10 percentage points.

Two quick points in the aftermath.  First, it is notable that Lynch’s biggest margin of victory was in Brockton.  This replicates a national trend: white leftists don’t fare as well as one might expect with working class women and men or with communities of colour.  I believe this is largely down to relatability.  They can relate to Lynch, born and raised in a blue-collar family in public housing in South Boston, more readily than to Roath, who grew up in a wealthy town in Connecticut and graduated from an Ivy League law school.

Second, as an unrepentant Democrat of the old school variety who is dismayed by my party’s ideological trajectory – the legislation recently enacted at the State House to remove all restrictions on abortion is an appalling nadir, in my estimation – I am grateful that Steve Lynch prevailed.  There are few Democratic politicians remaining who I can muster up any enthusiasm for.  He is one.

•••

In August, three sisters and a young child travelling in the wee hours to Dublin Airport to make a flight to England for a wedding suffered serious, possibly life-altering injuries when their car was struck by another vehicle being driven at extraordinary speed in the wrong direction on the M9 in Co. Kildare.  All five of its occupants, teenagers wearing masks, were killed.

This awful crash dominated news headlines, probably because we have all headed to the airport early to catch a plane and cannot fathom that such a fate could befall us.  There was abundant anger at the young persons responsible.  It was also suggested that their parents should be punished.

Many professed to having no sympathy for the deceased and the, frankly, vulgar scenes from the funerals provoked additional outrage.  Politicians pledged to create new criminal offences carrying severe penalties to deal with “joyriders.”  “Death-riders” is a more apt description.

Evidently, this has been happening for some time.  These boys were loosely affiliated with the “Lucky Dip” gang, who steal cars and drive them extremely recklessly, daring Gardaí (Irish police) to pursue them and posting videos of their exploits on social media.  One can only wonder how desperate and dreadful their lives must be to engage in this behaviour.

As the father of a teenager, it fills me with worry.  I pray that the four unfortunate victims of this unforgiveable deed make a full recovery.  Unfortunately, I have more questions than answers on this front.  In particular, it’s important not to be consumed by hatred for these stupid, now dead kids, yet still, why the hell did they do it?     

•••

Finally, at the hour of writing, we are anticipating the arrival of President Trump on these shores.  I suspect it will pass without incident.  As aforementioned, however, I was off the mark about the just concluded Irish summer...

Larry Donnelly is a Boston born and educated attorney, a Law Lecturer at the University of Galway and a regular media commentator on politics, current affairs and law in Ireland and the US.  Twitter/X: @LarryPDonnelly