This interview was first published in the book ‘Dubliners What’s the Story?’ a compilation of interviews with famous Dubliners, published by Currach Press in 2002 and available in Easons. It is published now as a tribute to former Independent TD Tony Gregory, who fought a brave battle with cancer in 2008 and sadly passed away on January 2nd 2009.

“I was pretty wild!” admits the late Tony Gregory TD about his boyhood schooldays, “but it wasn’t earth-shattering stuff! I robbed orchards and we used to scuttle on the grain lorries! I remember the great excitement when I saw Sheriff Street for the first time– I jumped off one of the lorries and saw all these huge blocks of flats. I didn’t rob cars or anything because there weren’t any to rob but if there were, I might have!”

Born in Charleville Avenue, off the North Strand, this highly respected public representative had a colourful and eventful early life in terms of his education.

He first attended the Loreto Convent in North Great George’s Street, at the age of three. It was labelled ‘Hill Street’ because pupils entered the school by the back gate of a yard leading on to Hill Street.

The earnest scholar later went to St. Cannon’s Christian Brother’s school on Dublin’s North Circular Road, which had just introduced a unique venture known as a ‘corporation scholarship’, specifically aimed at catering for children from the outer suburbs.

Those typical inner-city schooldays were, according to Tony, “not particularly unhappy, but tough.” Tough seems a mild description, given the extent to which corporal punishment was in operation at the time. “I remember the severe hidings on my hands and knuckles from the Christian Brothers. I remember playing on the fire escape at break time and I threw a banger which exploded and got a great cheer from the assembled crowd!

Then the Head brother nicknamed ‘Fish face’, because his name was ‘Herring’, threatened to beat everyone if the culprit didn’t own up, so myself and another lad owned up and he beat us on the knuckles with a round pointed stick!”

Emerging as a bit of a rebel, the youthful Tony was nonetheless a sensitive soul who was forced to deal with a wide range of emotions throughout his adolescence, partially in light of the fact that his mother suffered from TB, ensuring unpredictable periods of illness for her, fuelled by constant anxieties about the future.

“It was a hard and an unhappy time,” he admits candidly. “We were always worried about her going into hospital and maybe losing her,” he says, his voice trailing off in sorrow.

In later years Tony achieved degrees in History and Irish in UCD and embarked upon a teaching career, while maintaining a keen interest in local politics. He was heavily swayed by the views of his father, who continually related stories of historical and political events such as the 1916 Rising and the Black and Tan Years.

“My father was a great admirer of Michael Collins and hated DeValera, while the rest of the country admired De Valera and hated Collins! But he was a big influence and when you spend twelve years of your life in one room with someone and no running water and no toilet, it’s bound to have an effect– you become interested in equality in Ireland and the differences between those who have and those who have not,” he explains.

Tony Gregory initiated his first political campaign in 1979 and worked intimately with community associations in the north inner city. He was elected to the Dail in 1982 as an Independent TD.

He involved himself in a long line of significant issues, thereby firmly establishing his standing as a man of the people.

He rapidly became the voice of the downtrodden and underprivileged, delivering much for the inner city through the famous ‘Gregory Deal’, hatched with then-Taoiseach Charles Haughey, in return for the Independent TD’s support for a Fianna Fail government.

“I focus on what other politicians don’t,” he states confidently. “I represent the people who are demanding support and aren’t getting it, things that have a devastating effect on the area– the plight of the Moore Street women traders; animal cases, areas the mainstream politicians find too awkward.”

So what of Dublin, the city of his birth? “The north inner city is in the process of continual change. Housing conditions have changed dramatically from the overcrowded tenement areas. The transformation of the North Wall and the financial services centre– it’s a world away from what I grew up with. I’ve always had an attraction for Henry Street at Christmas,” he smiles. “The trees, the lights and the stars are incredible and I can never understand how the city council and big stores wanted to get rid of that. It is part of the catalyst that attracts people to the city. It’s also where the struggle of the Moore Street traders took place and where my mother did her shopping– it’s a part of Dublin,” he says.

This round-the-clock campaigner deals with an extensive amount of daily requests, both from his Leinster House office and advice centres located throughout the city. For Tony Gregory, one staunch crusader of the past remains a source of deep inspiration: Noel Browne– for a number of reasons. “His parents died of TB and my mother died of TB. He became Minister for Health and crusaded on social issues. I would never aspire to compare myself to him but I admire him greatly.”

Unfortunately, in spite of the great advances of the past few decades, one issue of major concern remains the horrific plague of drug abuse. “The main problem is social disadvantage and social inequality. Until we get to the stage where we create a more just society, treat all the children of the nation equally and oppose the ready availability of drugs, we won’t progress. If we get equality, people will be less likely to want to destroy themselves with escapist drugs.”

Some may view this as an unrealistic pie-in-the-sky dream, but it’s an admirable goal to aim for. Should it materialise, this man will surely have played a contributory role.