
Northern Ireland’s ‘Murder Triangle’ (Part 1) : Robin ‘The Jackal’ Jackson and the murders of Tullylish
The BelTel
The Shadows of Tullylish
This chapter explores the turbulent history of Tullylish, a parish in County Down, significantly affected by paramilitary violence during the Troubles. It highlights individual narratives of victims, examines the area's linen heritage, and reflects on the socio-political tensions that have shaped the community's identity and ongoing struggles.
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Speaker 2
Robin the Jackal Jackson was a UDR soldier who was identified as the gunman but he was never charged. They didn't even tell the family
Speaker 1
that the charges were being dropped, they found out from the local news and Jackson went on to be the biggest serial killer probably in the north. To
Speaker 2
discuss Jackson and the troubles until a leash and joined by two Martins. Martin Doyle from the Irish Times and Martin Breen from the Sunday Life. Martin Doyle has a book out, Dirty Linen, it examines the history of the troubles through the lens of his home parish. Now, Martin Doyle, starting with you, you have a book out. Dorothy Linen examines the history of the troubles through the lens of Toulaliche, once part of the Linen Triangle and an area blighted by paramilitary violence during the troubles. I know where Toulaliche is, but many people won't know where Toulaliche is, Martin, and won't know anything about it. I think that's probably our starting point.
Speaker 1
Toulas is a small parish in County Down near the border with County Armagh. It lies between the towns of Banbridge, Lurgon and Port-au and yet within those few small rural kilometres more than 20 people lost their lives during the conflict.
Speaker 2
Before we move on to those deaths, because as you say, in terms of the population, it's an awful lot of people. But, you know, Guildford, Lawrence Town, I almost see them as villages. I know they were once very separate from Banbridge, but they are sort of almost connected to Banbridge. They're very close to Banbridge. And when I hear the word, the name Tullalish, I realise that perhaps not everybody uses that parish name. So when we're talking about, we're not really talking about one, there's a lot of variety if you want to put it like that
Speaker 1
in this one area. Absolutely. Like the book came out of an article I wrote about the murder of the old Iod's in January 1976 in their remote farmhouse in Ballydugan, which is in the north of the parish. At the end of that piece, listed every other killing in the parish and then set out to tell the story of all of those victims and their families. But I realised quite quickly that I thought by homing in on one parish that would be, everybody knows what a parish is and therefore I thought telling the story of the troubles in one parish would be kind of like a microcosm of the troubles generally throughout the north. But yes, like so Lawrence Town would be a predominantly Catholic town about three miles from our village, three miles from Bambridge. Guildford is a couple of miles further along towards Porta Down. Like the other thing that was interesting for me about the area was that it's rich linen heritage. I kind of use the linen industry as a metaphor for the descent into communal violence of the Troubles because Guilford-Linnenmill now lies derelict. It's this massive six-storey building and its dereliction I kind of compare to say the O'Dowds farmhouse in Ballydugan, which is similarly derelict. It was abandoned by the family after three of their members were murdered and the family moved south. But also Alexander Christie was a Quaker who introduced the production of Victory Hall to the Ban Valley. Now, Eamon Kearns too, if his sons were murdered 25 years or so after the O'Dowds, but just a couple of hundred yards down the road, possibly by the same people. He says that Ian Paisley introduced vitriol into the local community when he came and preached hatred against Catholics in Blery Orange Hall in 1967. So you can see these parallels that I'm kind of emphasizing. My grandfather was put out of work as a Catholic in 1920 along with hundreds of Catholics along the River Ban because a man called Smith was murdered. He was head of the ORIC in Munster but he was from a linen family in Banbridge. And so his murder and other murders was used as an excuse to basically drive Catholics from the workforce along from the linen industry all along the all along the Ban Valley. And I linked that to the murder of Pat Feeney. I went to school with his brother Michael. Pat was shot dead working as a night watchman in a linen factory in Donna Cloney. So all of these little threads I kind of pulled together and trying to tell a story that's unique to Tullilish. People were murdered, innocent people were murdered, families were left to pick up the pieces, the wider community has moved on. But I would say, you know, we owe an awful lot to these people who feel left behind, who feel isolated, left with their grief. The prisoners are out of jail. You know, society moved on. But those wounds have never healed, often because they've been contaminated at every turn. the Glen-Angang is one of the threads in my book. I would say, I'd emphasize straight off that it's not just the only thread because I'm also writing about an RUC man who was murdered, a TA soldier, part-time soldier who was murdered, three protestant civilians who were blown up in a pub in Guildford in 1975 on New Year's Eve, four days before the O'Dowds were murdered. And I would say it sticks in my mind particularly because if you google Guildford pub bombing, what comes up, and the only thing that comes up, is the Guildford pub bombing, the notorious bombing in Surrey in England for which the Maguire 7 and the Guildford 4 were convicted. So here you have three innocent Protestant civilians who lost their lives on New Year's Eve in 1975 and even the Google algorithm erases them from history. I think that's a very powerful metaphor, if you like, for how little those deaths moved the dial. They don't even register anymore in the historical record. And yet those victims, all their families, loved ones behind, they are still grieving for their loss.
Speaker 2
You know, you mentioned 20 deaths in a few square miles and I don't want to elevate anyone above anyone else. But something struck me there, you spoke about the murders of the Kerns family on the O'Dowd and it did strike me, these both were carried out by the UVF and they were 25 years apart and yet you mentioned that you thought they might be the same people, 25 years later still at it. I mean, who, do we know anything about this UVF unit was operating in that area or any of the personalities involved?
Tullylish is a quiet rural parish, in the east of county Down. But during the troubles, it was known for being part of a ‘murder triangle’. From the 1970s to the mid-90s, over 20 people in the area were killed by paramilitary violence, with UVF commander ‘The Jackal’ co-ordinating many of these attacks. Ciarán Dunbar is joined by Sunday Life editor Martin Breen and Martin Doyle, author of “Dirty Linen” - a book about his experiences growing up in Tullylish. This podcast was originally published in November 2023.
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