Oscar-winning character actress Dame Ms Maggie Margaret Natalie Smith (Maggie Smith)[Order of the Companions of Honour (CH) and Most Excellent Order of the British Empire (DBE)] (Dec. 28th 1934 − Sept. 27th 2024), has sadly passed away while in the care of staff at the Chelsea and Westminster Hospital, 369 Fulham Road, London, aged 89.
The talented British actress; best known for her outstanding roles in ‘Harry Potter’(portraying the wise and formidable head of Gryffindor House) and ‘Downton Abbey’(portraying the Dowager Countess of Grantham, Violet Crawley, together with her Academy Award-winning performance in ‘The Prime Of Miss Jean Brodie’, and her Best Supporting Actress role in ‘California Suite’, passed away peacefully in hospital early this morning.
Moments that made Maggie Smith in ‘Downton Abbey’.
The intensely private lady, passed away surrounded by close friends and family, leaving behind two sons, Chris Larkin and Toby Stephens and five loving grandchildren all devastated by the loss of their extraordinary talented mother and grandmother.
Born in Ilford, Essex, on December 28, 1934, Ms Smith began her career in the early 1950s with notable performances in theatre. She gained recognition in ‘The Royal Family’ and won her first Oliver Award, in 1971, for her performance in ‘The Private Ear/The Public Eye’. Her film debut began in 1958 in the crime film ‘Nowhere to Go’.
She was also Oscar-nominated for ‘Othello’ (1965), ‘Travels with My Aunt’ (1972), ‘A Room with a View’ (1985), and ‘Gosford Park’ (2001).
Ms Smith received an early BAFTA award for Promising Newcomer in 1959 for ‘Nowhere To Go’. This was followed by BAFTA nominations for ‘Young Cassidy’ in 1966, ‘Death On The Nile’ in 1979, ‘California Suite’ in 1980, ‘Quartet’ in 1982, ‘The Secret Garden‘ in 1994, ‘Tea With Mussolini’ in 2000, ‘Gosford Park’ in 2002 and ‘The Lady In The Van’ in 2016.
She also won Best Actress Awards for ‘The Prime Of Miss Jean Brodie’, ‘A Private Function’ and ‘The Lonely Passion Of Judith Hearne’.
One of her final roles included ‘The Miracle Club’, which follows a group of women from Dublin, Ireland, who go on a pilgrimage to the French town of Lourdes.
Ms Smith married actor Robert Stephens on June 29th 1967. They had two sons, Chris (b. 1967) and Toby (b. 1969), and they were divorced on April 6th 1975. Ms Smith married playwright Alan Beverly Cross on June 23rd 1975, at the Guildford Register Office. They remained married until his death on March 20th 1998. Once, when asked in 2013 if she was lonely, she replied, “It seems a bit pointless, going on, on one’s own, and not having someone to share it with”.
Here in the Mid-west region, which includes North Tipperary, there have been considerable complaints about the current state of our health services.
This in mind, Thurles.Info set up cameras, covertly, within the reception area of one of our medical establishment, (Facility shall remain nameless); in an effort to try and understand the problems within our health service, particularly regarding the situation where the number of individuals or objects occupying a particular space exceeds its intended or optimal capacity.
This video, shown above, will now be sent to the area dealing with health complaints procedures, and forwarded to the Minister Mr Stephen Donnelly TD, in the hope that the sending of same is not over complicated and hopefully will not causes adverse frustration within the service itself.
Lyrics: Canadian singer and songwriter, the late Rita MacNeil(1944 – 2013). Vocals: The melodic voice of Irish country, pop and folk singer Mary Duff.
Working Man.
It’s the workin’ man I am, And I’ve been down underground, And I swear to God if I ever see the sun, Or for any length of time, I can hold it in my mind, I never again will go down underground. At the age of sixteen years, Oh, he quarrels with his peers, Who vowed they’d never see another one, In the dark recess of the mines, Where you age before your time, And the coal dust lies heavy on your lungs. It’s the workin’ man I am, And I’ve been down underground, And I swear to God if I ever see the sun, Or for any length of time, I can hold it in my mind, I never again will go down underground. At the age of sixty-four, Oh, he’ll greet you at the door, And he’ll gently lead you by the arm, Through the dark recess of the mines, Oh, he’ll take you back in time, And he’ll tell you all the hardships that were had. It’s the workin’ man I am, And I’ve been down underground, And I swear to God if I ever see the sun, Or for any length of time, I can hold it in my mind, I never again will go down underground. It’s the workin’ man I am, And I’ve been down underground, And I swear to God if I ever see the sun, (see the sun), Or for any length of time, (any length of time), I can hold it in my mind, (in my mind), I never again will go down underground.
On Monday evening last, at 14:21 hours, I was contacted (PM on Facebook) by Mr Jim Ryan, (Elected Local Councillor). He informed me that his associates had held a meeting ‘with a few experts‘, with regards to the state of the river Suir at Barry’s bridge in the town centre.
There was I thinking that I was going to be reprimanded, by my betters, for contacting the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA), which I certainly did, in an attempt to get some action in my efforts to save the decline of the River Suir and to lower, at least somewhat, the filthy stench currently being emitted from its murky waters.
No, thank God, the EPA hadn’t informed Mr Ryan directly, about my daring activities. Instead he was anxious to obtain images of sewage flowing into the river, which he had been fighting to correct for over the past 11 years; with his colleagues failing to support him and he without a camera of his own and no sense of smell.
In the course of our brief communication, I must apologise to Mr Ryan for misleading him. I had stated that I thought that the emissions from the area at the Emmett street “swinging gates” side of the river walk had been fixed. However, I also had stated that because of nettles retained by our local ‘nettle hugging’ biodiversity individuals, same could not be fully confirmed.
I am now happy to confirm, using the Thurles.Info satellite; that fixing this problem, requested on June 30th, 2022(view Here); on October 14th, 2022(view Here); on June 28th, 2023(view Here); and again on October 26th 2023(view Here), was simply too much of a challenge for our elected double jobbers; what with the war in Ukraine; the war in Gaza, not to mention Covid.19 and the onset of space tourism.
I now feel embarrassed, as I report that the emissions reported two years are still happily flowing, leaching into the water; only in larger amounts than was reported previously back in 2022. Again the nettles forbid me from seeing the actual pipe and my only pair of wellington boots have sprung a leak.
Archival picture of sewage entering the river Suir taken in 2022. Pic: G.Willoughby.
Same sewage photographed two years later on Saturday last. September 21st 2024. Pic: G.Willoughby.
Meanwhile, the person who sent men into the river, without supervision, on Tuesday and Wednesday of last week, should consider their position and resign.
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We had expected this workforce to return to complete their cleaning work on Thursday, and Friday last, but alas, no show; hope they didn’t pick up anything, forcing them to take sick leave. The reeds were cut, using strimmers, and left to float on the water’s surface, blocking the two fish runs, and forcing the main water stream to flow directly over the low weir. Branches were removed from under the bridges arches and left partially in the water and on the river bank. As our video shows, despite no rain over the past 7 days, water is still flowing from a drain under Thurles Swimming Pool, directly into the river, as is a stream of water from pipes under Barry’s Bridge, which we reported last January, (view Here).
Anyone Missing A Sock? No effort has been made to collect the numerous years of litter, piled and hidden in the receding undergrowth, found in the river itself and on its banks, in the form of plastic bags, tins, bottles, clothing, etc. One thing I did discover; while Red Bull liquid may give you ‘Wiings’, their empty containers remain fully grounded, when caught floating in existing Blanket Weed (filamentous algae).
Yes, the public are totally responsible for this littering, but what are we getting in return for vehicle parking charges and for local property tax, the latter which has increased in Thurles every year, since it was introduced in 2013 except during local election years.
Members of Thurles Tidy Towns, Thurles Gun Club and myself had worked for absolutely no recompense to make this same area visually beautifully, which Thurles Municipal District Councillors and their officials have now turned it into a cesspit, having removing all its assets.
It may now be necessary to put together a working volunteer group to save this wonderful asset, for according to Mr Ryan (Cllr.), despite being set up in 2016, the outfit known as the Local Authority Waters Programme (LAWPRO), have no immediate action plan in place and will require 4 months to make such plans, before urgent funding can even be applied for.
Lyrics: Singer, producer, and musician Adam Wright(nephew of Alan Jackson), American country music singer-songwriters Hailey Whitters and Sarah Turner. Vocals: American country music singer-songwriter, Alan Eugene Jackson.
The Older I Get.
The older I get, The more I think, You only get a minute, better live while you’re in it, ‘Cause it’s gone in a blink. And the older I get, The truer it is, It’s the people you love, not the money and stuff, That makes you rich. And if they found a fountain of youth, I wouldn’t drink a drop and that’s the truth, Funny how it feels I’m just getting to my best years yet. The older I get, The fewer friends I have, But you don’t need a lot when the ones that you got, Have always got your back. And the older I get, The better I am, At knowing when to give, And when to just not give a damn. And if they found a fountain of youth, I wouldn’t drink a drop and that’s the truth, Funny how it feels I’m just getting to my best years yet, The older I get. And I don’t mind all the lines, From all the times I’ve laughed and cried, Souvenirs and little signs of the life I’ve lived. The older I get, The longer I pray, I don’t know why, I guess that I’ve, Got more to say. And the older I get, The more thankful I feel, For the life I’ve had and all the life I’m living still.
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