And so, Eugene O’Donnell is gone.

Big Yogi, he was fondly called. He was a renowned teacher for many years at St. Peter’s, Creggan, but he was more, much more than that.

In 1949, John and Gretta McLoone, moved into 8 Tremone Gardens, Creggan, and Brendan and May O’Donnell for the keys of number 7.

I was a little toddler when Eugene was born in 1950, and so I grew up with him, and knew him all his life.

placeholder image — The late Eugene O'Donnell.

One of my most vivid memories is of Eugene’s Aunt Fran opening the windows of Number 7, turning the white Bakelite radio up loud and shouting, ‘come on quick, The Black Hills of Dakota is on!’ And Simone and Beau and Little Eugene would dash into the house to that beautiful Indian country song that they loved.

And so, there was music.

What a wonderful street to grow up in, and Eugene participated in all of our ‘seasons’ - the football season, the cricket season, tennis, knick-knock, See-Who-Falls-The-Best, sling shots, Cowboys and Indians, sprinting (lamp to lamp), long distance running (around Swilly Gardens); and there was even a bow and arrow season. Recently I saw a photograph taken by the late Bill Stevens, and Eugene was dressed as an Indian. Eugene, your arrow flew furthest, and you could have been a chief.

I remember a young Eugene showing me his father Brendan's back garden. Magnificent. Every square inch was packed with the most beautiful vegetables, and luscious Rhubarb flourished for dessert. Flowering Fuchsia filled the hedges, and scented Honeysuckle grew up and over the back gate.

And so, there was a garden.

Around 1960, we got bikes, and off we cycled to Newton Burn near the Blanket Nook to fish. We found a place where, if you took off your shoes and socks - no waders in those days - you could cross the Burn and climb up the far bank to reach another stream, flowing into the Nook. And Eugene caught, putting his partner to shame.

And so, there was fishing.

At the Brow of the Hill Tech, as it was called, Eugene excelled at athletics, even at junior and senior Ulster level. He set a record for the pole vault that will never be beaten; for the Christian Brothers are gone, as is the old school. But no Champion, they can't take that away from you. Victor ludorum.

I don't know how he found the time for it, but he taught himself the guitar, and together with his brother Declan (bass), Pat McAllister (lead vocalist) and Brian Crossan (drums) they formed the group Gypsy who performed successfully throughout the north west.

And, of course, he was academically gifted as well, and he went to Manchester where he trained to be a teacher.

But his greatest achievement was in meeting Madeliene, the love of his life, the girl from West End Park. Together they had the children he adored. And the teacher-musician began to provide for his young family.

And so, there was a family of his own.

I’ll never forget one day when I called into his classroom. The ‘difficult’ boys were entranced, engrossed in the lesson. I looked at the ceiling and there Eugene had a series of paper globes, all made by himself, done in proportion and representing all the planets of the Solar System.

He flicked a light on and off and talked of day and night, light and darkness, the summer solstice, innumerable galaxies, time and space and infinity.

And when he was given the top examination class, the results were astounding. Exceptional. Many top grades in double- award science.

Eugene, you could have been a chief among educators, anywhere.

As his family was growing up, Eugene turned his attention more to angling, especially in the River Faughan. He was an exceptionally good self-taught fly-fisher.

One morning he caught seven salmon and hooked four more. On another he landed a 14-pound salmon, and then a nine-pounder on the very next cast. And he successfully taught his daughter Ciara, his son Paul, and his bass guitarist to fish.

Eugene, you could have been a chief angler on any river.

And his garden was superb, surpassing even that of his father Brendan. He won Derry's Best Medium-Sized Garden competition two years in a row, not to mention best vegetable garden. His daughter Ciara entered him in the competition for yet a third year, but in his modesty, he refused to enter again.

In his retirement, he became a very good cook, and he took up learning Irish sa Chultúrlann. He loved it, and no doubt would have been fluent, but Covid and then illness struck.

For a call was coming, and he could not say no, a call louder than white Bakelite, more insistent than his love from West End Park and the cries from his children, more powerful than the flood waters tumbling over Bessie's Dam on his beloved Faughan.

And so, I saw him for the last time.

Environmentally aware to the last, resting back in wicker.

Waiting for the new season.

He will be sorely, sorely missed.

Ní fheicfidh muid a leithéid aris.

A chara, Peter McLoone, January 2026.

Eugene O’Donnell (1950-2025) passed away on December 11, 2025. He is mourned by his wife Madeleine, children Ciara and Paul, children-in-law Leigh and Tina, grandchildren Conn-Patrick and Éabha-Rose and siblings Simone, Donna, Declan, Ursula, Sean and Bronagh.