What A Difference A Day Makes: 'Éilis’s death brought a sadness into all of our lives'

Éilis was five years older than me, as is my sister, Sinéad – she was my big sister’s mate. In their teens they worked together as lounge girls in the local pub. We were all very close.

It was the day after St Stephen’s Day 2004. My mother came into my room, giving out yards – she was looking for our portable home phone. 

I’d been talking to someone on it after being out for a few drinks the night before. My mother said ‘we can’t find Éilis – Éilis is missing’.

In the sitting room, on TV, they were talking about this huge tsunami. It was a bit like 9/11, the same video playing over and over again. 

Initially, looking at it, you’d be thinking it can’t be that bad. And then the stats started coming out and we were hearing about houses washed away.

But you kind of play it down – ‘I’m sure she’ll turn up, I’m sure she’ll be fine’. As the hours and days went on and she wasn’t found, hope diminished.

Éilis wasn’t supposed to be there. She and her boyfriend, Barry Murphy, were travelling around the world. They were going to Argentina but their flight was delayed so they said they’d have breakfast on the beach. 

They were really unlucky, they weren’t supposed to be there. They got separated by the waves and Éilis was never seen alive again.

Alarm bells started to ring. People weren’t as contactable back then. It was just a weird time. Sinéad was a Garda, which helped. 

She was able to get Éilis’s dental records, fly over and get her identified quickly. Some people were waiting months, if they got their loved one’s body back at all. 

So Sinéad flew over and I don’t know how she did it – I admired her strength at the time, it was quite phenomenal really.

Éilis was the first big loss in my life. For a young person to die… You expect grandparents to die but not someone you were at school with. 

In Ireland, Éilis was the face of the tsunami – her face was on the cover of every newspaper for weeks. It was huge, surreal, strange.

Hers was the first funeral I sang for. Afterwards I sang for other big funerals, my grandparents’ on my mother’s side. It was a great honour to be asked to sing at Éilis’s and I didn’t hesitate. 

If you think you can help in any way, you say ‘yes’ in times of strain. I was more than happy to do it but it was a tough gig. I sang a Beatles song called ‘Golden Slumbers’.

It was a massive funeral. All our old teachers were there, the president’s aide. I remember going up to Newlands Cross where she was buried afterwards. 

She was buried beside Mic Christopher. He was a well-known singer who had gone to our school too – he had died tragically in 2001 in Holland. So she’s beside him.

After the burial we went to the Pigeon Club in Ballyfermot and we had a good old hooley. We gave her a great send-off. 

There was loads of food, karaoke, a céilí at one stage – Éilis taught Irish to adults in our local GAA club, along with my sister and my father. She was huge into her culture and heritage, she was a great person.

So we had a brilliant night. We were having pints with her old teachers. Her ex-boyfriend was there, he was Dutch. We were all laughing and singing and dancing, and he said ‘this is not how we say good-bye to someone in Holland’. 

I always remember his reaction to that Irish wake, that it was a joyous send-off.

Éilis was bubbly, always laughing, full of fun. Her family were all heart, full of joy and life, their house always full of people. She was the eldest, a high achiever, she travelled a lot.

She fitted a lot into her short life – almost, you think, did she know she wouldn’t have a long time here?

My parents remember the Kennedys – that era. For my generation, the big events in our lives were 9/11 and the tsunami, those two, totally shocking, just shocking. 

Éilis’s death brought a sadness into all of our lives that wasn’t there before. And there was sadness too that her family had to go through such heartbreak.

Her death was a reminder that you never know what is around the corner – it educated me on the fragility of life.

• Fiach Moriarty recently released his new concept album Liberties about his great-granduncle, Jack Kavanagh from Francis Street, who joined the Royal Dublin Fusiliers and fought in World War 1.
• After signing up to Ancestry.com, Fiach discovered all about Jack through his army records. He pieced this together with stories his grandmother had told about Jack, and from this the album was born. 
• Fiach is touring through November, December and into 2025. More info/tickets: https://www.fiachmusic.com/