Ann Lovett: Granard still reluctant to talk about schoolgirl's death 40 years on

Ann’s son, Patrick, died just a few short hours before his mother on January 31, 1984.

She was found bloody and cold, lying in her soaked school uniform beneath the statue of a woman who would also have been persecuted for being unmarried and pregnant, and who had nowhere to go to birth her baby.

The irony that Christianity’s hallowed matriarch was also an unmarried pregnant woman — a group so maligned by then-powerful voices in the Catholic church that Ann was left alone to give birth on that dark January afternoon — is stark.

Ann’s death became a powerful symbol of a system and a culture that no longer served its people.

She died at a time of burgeoning social change in Ireland, when a more secular youth, eyes and minds opened by education and immigration, railed against a hyper-conservative, theocratic society, and pushed hard to create a new Ireland. 

For many, Ann's tragic death became a clarion call for that change.

In 1984, Catholic doctrine still influenced public policy. 

Contraception was illegal without a prescription (until 1985), marital rape was not a crime (until 1990), homosexuality was illegal (until 1993), and Magdalene Laundries were still in operation

A few months before Ann died in 1983 the Eighth Amendment, which effectively banned abortion in the Irish Constitution, was passed in a fractious referendum.

Ann’s death prompted an outpouring of anger and grief. Hundreds of letters were written to RTÉ where people shared their own similar secrets and shames.

Her death made an indelible impact on the town of Granard in Longford.

“It had a big impact. It was a big trauma for the town,” a Granard local who knew the Lovetts but who asked not to be named said.

A lot of journalists came and they wouldn’t be welcome. It was a big intrusion. But overall it was a good thing that it was out in the open.” 

But many in Granard wish it remained a secret, kept locked away safely behind local doors and tightly pulled curtains.

Shadows of that tribal, secretive old Ireland still dance around the edges of Ann’s story, and around Granard.

Many locals want it forgotten, her memory and the learnings we should all take from her death not worth the pain of confronting society’s thinly veiled prejudices and the mundane, blind cruelties that ultimately led to her death.

Ann died in Granard, but the town was not unique in its attitudes towards a young unmarried mother at the time.

Pubs are still asked to switch off the TV when Ann’s name is broadcast and many locals still refuse to watch films or documentaries about her death.

“The town would rather forget about it now. You often hear people complain in pubs ‘they’re showing it again’ when something comes on the TV about Ann.

“Christy Moore wrote a song about Ann, people wouldn’t listen to that here,” the local said.

But many people from outside Granard are still drawn to Ann and her story decades later.

“You’d often see people up at her grave or the grotto. They’re from out of town. You often hear people asking if that’s where the young girl and her baby died,” the local said. 

Call to leave family in peace

Former town councillor Brenda Tallon said she wished everyone would leave the Lovetts alone.

“They need some peace and quiet.

“It keeps rearing its head. They’re not getting any peace over Ann’s death.” 

Ann Rose Lovett was born into this world on April 6, 1968, in Cobh General Hospital, Co Cork.

She lived in the Victorian Graham’s Terrace overlooking the sea, the seventh of nine children.

Her father, Diarmuid Lovett, moved the family back to his home village, Kilnaleck, Co Cavan, in 1972.

The family then moved to nearby Granard in Co Longford, in 1981. Her father bought a pub, the Copper Pot, but it was often closed.

A budding artist and journalist, Ann worked in her school, Cnoc Mhuire’s magazine, Féach.

She was described by people who knew her as independent, outgoing, and bubbly.

And she was creative. At school, she loved art, English, and biology.

On January 31, 1984, she took a pair of scissors from her home before ostensibly leaving for school.

But she never went to school that day.

Instead, she went alone to the grotto where she gave birth to a baby boy on the cold stone ground in the rain. She used the scissors to cut the umbilical cord.

Three boys were walking home from school at about 4pm when one of them saw Ann’s red schoolbag near the entrance to the grotto and heard moaning.

They found Ann covered in blood and lying on the cold, wet ground, her dead baby lying nearby.

They ran for help, first finding local man Tony Kelly. He came to Ann, saw her critically ill and her baby already dead, and went to the parish priest for help.

The priest told him the girl needed a doctor, not a priest.

But Canon Gilfillan did not call a doctor, and instead went to collect what he needed to perform Last Rites, according to media reports.

The boys knocked on a neighbour’s door — Eugene Gallagher — who was the first person to call a doctor for Ann at 4.14pm and brought her blankets.

Dr Tom Donoghue immediately called an ambulance, but it was 42km away in Mullingar hospital.

Dr Donoghue drove Ann, her dead baby, and her father to their home to wait for the ambulance, which arrived at 5.10pm.

Ann’s lips and fingertips were white when she arrived at Mullingar hospital at 5.55pm.

She was cold to the touch and was still dressed in her soaking-wet school uniform.

Although efforts were made to save her she died a short time later.

Ann’s death was caused by irreversible shock due to exposure and blood loss in childbirth, with exposure being the main factor, pathologist Ken Cunnane reported.

The baby had died from asphyxia, probably in delivery, and had been stillborn.

Ann and her baby were buried together in Granard graveyard.

Less than three months later, on April 22, 1984, Ann’s younger sister Patricia, aged 14, died by suicide.

Diarmuid Lovett died three years later, aged 54. Ann's mother Patricia Lovett remained living on Main Street, Granard, until her death in June 2015, aged 81.

Ann's family never spoke publicly about her death.

Ann attended the Catholic Cnoc Mhuire Secondary School. The school always maintained that it did not know Ann was pregnant and said staff would have helped her if they knew.

A past pupil of the school, a few years younger than Ann, said the school was extremely strict.

“It was horrific going to school there.

“The nuns were horrific. And they were so strict on uniform, I don’t know how she [Ann] got away with being pregnant in there. 

“Lord have mercy on her, she must have gone through hell.” 

Orla O’Connor, director of the National Women’s Council, said that although there has been huge change for women since Ann’s death, that change had to be fought for and the journey to equality is not yet over.

“Things have changed enormously for women in Ireland," Ms O’Connor said.

“But change has come as a result of very hard-fought campaigns and real tragedies for women — not just 40 years ago, but right up to recent times.

“Change in abortion laws after the death of Savita Halappanavar.

“Vicky Phelan and everything she did campaigning for women's health. 

None of the change has come automatically, or come because governments have believed that equality is a good thing.” 

The National Women’s Council is now campaigning for a ‘Yes’ vote on both referendum questions on March 8, to enshrine equality for women and families into the Constitution.

“We are calling for the sexist, stereotypical reference to women’s place in the home to be removed from the Constitution and replaced with a recognition of the shared responsibility of care,” Ms O’Connor said.

“Article 41.2 never led to any supports for women to work solely within the home, but underpinned discriminatory practices

“So the fight continues for women's equality.”