‘Fr Paddy O’Kane was a truly angelic man’ : A parishioner’s tribute

In a selfish world, Father Patrick O’Kane chose to be selfless. A truly angelic man who nurtured and understood his community. For this at a very young age Father Patrick, or as I knew him, Paddy, became my role model and favourite person.

As a child I innocently idealised Paddy.

For the full 20 years of my life, I had the honour of knowing and looking up to him, unfortunately without Paddy even knowing that. When I was just a few months old Paddy was the priest who baptised me. As I grew up local to the church, I often had the joy of meeting him in my primary school, St. Eithne’s, where he played a big role as a friendly and funny priest. Surprisingly though, nothing quite beat the excitement I had of hearing Paddy speak each week at Sunday Mass in Holy Family Chapel; It was the highlight of my week.

There was a sense of comfort when listening to him speak. Entering Holy Family felt like you were entering Paddy’s home. A home filled with love and wisdom. The altar was Paddy’s stage and within those forty-five minutes, Paddy had a way of leaving the congregation with something to think about. Due to this, he played a huge factor in why I carried faith throughout my life as Paddy was always the reason I went to Mass. He was a true reflection of how I believe the church should invite young people in, making the church feel like a place to turn to for reflection and healing.

Paddy was an extraordinary speaker. In a room full of people, he had a way of making you feel like he was speaking only to you. He used his Homily each week as a time to educate, drawing upon personal stories to empathise with others. I often spoke about my favourite Homily of Paddy’s to family and friends.

Many years ago, after returning from a trip to the States, in his true unexpected nature, Paddy brought out an American ‘foam finger’, used to support games of football. He cleverly referenced with his prop how when you point the finger at someone there are always three fingers pointing back at you. I carried this metaphor with me for years as it taught me a valuable life lesson as a child when it came to how I treated others; something Paddy was truly an expert in.

When entering the church after his passing I noticed the plaque that read, “The Peoples Priest” and that’s exactly who he was. Whilst attending both Paddy’s funeral and place of rest in Culdaff, the extent of people I met and spoke to whose hearts were broken from losing someone who had truly given his time to so many.

He did brilliant things for this city with little want for recognition. He regularly appealed for funding things such as oil for the community and received it from people such as Roma Downey. He created the idea of the ‘Buddy Bench’ for the local primary children to sit and communicate to a teacher that they are feeling lonely or need to talk. He also organised counselling during the lockdown in a time when waiting lists were extremely long, to name just a few.

He was a positive influence on the type of person I looked up to as he truly cared and had time for others. He cared about carrying others’ stories and he often referenced at funerals the dash in between the year the person died and was born; the life they carried in between then.

I admired how artistic and creative he was. Whether that be tending to bees, writing poetry or creating beautiful artwork Paddy was extremely passionate about his interests. In his work within my primary school, I have a fond memory of how excited I was when Paddy came to visit to tell the children about a magic competition he organised where we could showcase our best tricks on the altar in front of an audience. Unfortunately, at the innocent age of eight, I was no Houdini, but it was this fun-loving aspect of Paddy’s nature that I truly loved.

There was a gentleness about Paddy. He sang prayers, regularly told jokes, waited outside the church to shake hands with everyone and sympathised with others. I once asked a family member who suffered from depression why they went to Paddy for help. They told me that Paddy made them feel listened to and he understood how they suffered and wanted to find solutions by listening and seeing the bigger picture. He was very generous with his love. At his funeral, it was noted that Paddy described his darkness as a mountain that each step became more difficult to climb. But while facing his troubles he undoubtedly helped so many others, myself and my family included, climb their mountains and for that, I am forever grateful for his heart.

Many years ago, I decided to write Paddy a letter of admiration. I never heard back from him which I didn’t expect anyways as I knew he was an extremely busy man. However, years later after hearing of the letter, he told me he never received it. I often think of this. For a man who put everyone before himself and spent his days giving to others, he didn’t even get the chance to hear admiration.

Paddy once told a Homily about a woman who had no one in her life except one friend and explained how lonely that must feel. He used this as an example of how grateful we should be that she had that one person in her life that made her life worth living. What I don’t think Paddy realised about himself was, for many people he was that one friend. For a lot of lonely souls across this city, and far beyond, Paddy was the person who made them feel loved. Even in times of darkness, he acted from his heart, in any way he could.

And that to me is why he is beyond inspirational.

Our city of Derry and the community of Ballymagroarty will truly miss Paddy.