ON the night of his resignation as deputy first minister, Martin McGuinness spoke emotionally of his love for Derry.
He said: “I’ve ended up in many famous places in the world - the White House on countless occasions, the Oval Office on three occasions with American presidents, and prime ministers and presidents all over the place, but my heart lies in the Bogside and with the people of Derry.”
Even at the height of dissident republican anger towards him, even after he described the killers of PSNI constable Stephen Carroll as “traitors to the island of Ireland”, he was able to move around the streets of the Bogside without fear. In his home patch, he had absolute respect.
Read More:
Family pays tender tribute to Martin McGuinness one year on
Cross-border walk among events marking first anniversary of Martin McGuinness death
Analysis: Martin McGuinness's passing left a void in northern politics
Bertie Ahern: History will be kind to Martin McGuinness
Tour guides report huge interest in Martin McGuinness sites
Denis Bradley: McGuinness legacy will always be a mixed one
A year after his death, the reverence for Martin McGuinness the Bogsider is stronger than ever, his achievements lauded and his faults played down.
In the days and weeks after his death, some who had loved ones killed by the IRA acknowledged the role he played in bringing about peace.
There was and is a belief that had Martin McGuinness not been an IRA leader, he could not have brought those dedicated to physical force republicanism to the peace process.
But there is also no misty-eyed, romantic view of him in Derry. Kathleen Gillespie’s husband Patsy was murdered by the IRA when he was forced to drive a bomb to a British army post in 1990.
When Mr McGuinness died, she said her main thought was that she was envious of his family who got to say goodbye – something denied to her.
A former comrade-in-arms, Shane Paul Doherty, also said Martin McGuinness had the opportunity to bring closure to victims’ families but didn’t take it. He said the former IRA commander could have helped the families of the 1972 Claudy bomb victims but didn’t.
In Derry, there is no sugar-coating of Martin McGuinness’s past. But equally, there is an acknowledgement of the journey he took. There is a belief that had he not retired, the impasse of the last year would have been resolved. He would have sorted it out.
In his native city, a year after his death, among dedicated Sinn Fein supporters, the Martin McGuinness legend is growing.
Among others, there may not be pride but there is recognition, respect and even admiration of his courage and leadership.
