Three hearses parked, side by side, outside a small country church.
They took up the width of the road.
A heartbreaking sight.
“When you look at them together like that, it just hits you,” murmured a local man as the funeral bell tolled for Vanessa Whyte and her two teenage children.
RM Block
Their grieving family walked the final stretch of tarmac behind the coffins of their loved ones. They walked between footpaths lined by mourners from two communities at opposite ends of the island united in pain and shock at the terrible circumstances surrounding the deaths of Vanessa, James (14) and Sara (13).
They died in a shooting at their home in Maguiresbridge, Co Fermanagh.
Ian Rutledge, Vanessa’s husband and the children’s father, died later in hospital from self-inflicted gun wounds.
Vanessa was from the Co Clare village of Barefield, which is just outside Ennis. She was steeped in the GAA and a proud supporter of Clare hurling.
This time last year, Vanessa and the children were in Croke Park when their beloved Banner County lifted the All-Ireland hurling crown. In Fermanagh, they were active members of two local GAA clubs.
Who could have imagined that the saffron and blue jerseys they so proudly wore to Dublin would be placed next to a church altar at their funeral mass a year later? Or that their names would be spoken at the next All-Ireland hurling final as the crowd rose for a minute’s silence to mark their passing?
In Barefield on Saturday, these were among the questions repeatedly asked by mourners. There were no answers.
Not for the crowd at the roadside nor for the people on the hill above, where the Church of the Immaculate Conception was already packed to capacity. The overflow was accommodated by rows of outdoor seating and a public address system.
It still wasn’t enough.
And all they could do was be there, in the overwhelming silence, trying to make sense of the scene.
The order of service booklet featured a now familiar photograph of Vanessa, Sara and James outside Croke Park.
The members of the local GAA club, St Joseph’s Doora-Barefield, formed part of a guard of honour outside the church. They were joined by more than a hundred members from Lisbellaw hurling club and Maguiresbridge gaelic football club who travelled from Fermanagh to bid a final farewell to their clubmates.
Dressed in their club colours, many of them young teenagers like James and Sara, they sobbed and embraced when the cortege passed.
As they stood, the rolled booklets stuck out of back pockets like matchday programmes.
Each hearse was packed with mementos from the short lives of the three deceased with rectangular wreaths resting against the sides, each one with a name and place in the family: Vanessa – mother, daughter, sister; James – son, brother, nephew; Sara – daughter, sister, niece, cousin.
Vanessa was a vet. The family loved animals. Little soft-toy black-and-white cats looked out from the hearses bearing the children. There were framed family photographs, lots of them. Hurleys. Sliotars. Jerseys.
The men from the GAA clubs stepped forward and prepared to shoulder the remains into the church. One of them, stooping to take the burden, shook his head in disbelief when he saw the young lad’s coffin. Then he hefted it aloft with his clubmates.
Up the slope and to the doors where a bishop and a large number of local priests were waiting.
In the front row of mourners was Mary Whyte, Vanessa’s mother. Her remaining sons and daughters and their children were there to comfort her.
Three generations of a family in sorrow.
Regina White gave the eulogy for her sister, niece and nephew.
It was compelling in its testimony of love and also in its perfectly pitched description of a family torn apart by the violent actions of another.
She talked about their personalities. Their funny little quirks. Their kindness. Their interests. The things that made them special.
Vanessa: “unique and irreplaceable … witty, bright and determined".
Catching the bus to the All-Ireland final in 1997 with no ticket to the match, but getting one within an hour of reaching Dublin.
Her love of animals and of her home county of Clare.
Vanessa, James and Sara were taken from this world in a cruel and vicious manner
— Regina Whyte
Fourteen-year-old James: a kind boy with an infectious smile and strong sense of loyalty.
He had a deep love of the GAA and idolised the hurlers from the Banner County.
“Our family find comfort in the fact that James got to experience the feelings of his county winning the All-Ireland last year,” said Regina.
Thirteen-year-old Sara: she wanted to become a vet like her mother.
“She had a smile that would light a room and, like her brother, devilment was a core part of her personality . . . She was a normal, happy 13-year-old.”
She never left home without Bunny, a small toy dog.
“When you saw Sara, Bunny was in close proximity. He will remain with her on her final journey.”
So much to say about them.
But so much more that had to be said about how they died.
Regina Whyte did not shirk from this.
“Vanessa, James and Sara were taken from this world in a cruel and vicious manner. There are no words available to express how this has impacted our family and their friends.
“We as a family have been robbed of both a relationship with our sister and a chance to see James and Sara grow up, and they have been robbed of the remainder of their lives.”
She steadied her wavering voice as mourners wept.
They had been expecting the family in Clare this summer, as always.
“This was supposed to be a joyous occasion where Vanessa would see her new nephew Harry Joe, and Sara and James would meet their baby cousin for the first time. Instead we are in the position of choosing coffins, final burial places and funeral hymns.”
These were difficult words but they needed to be said.
“For us as a family, the only comfort we have is that Vanessa, James and Sara are together and finally safe.
“Vanessa will have her children at either side of her forever, as they were when they were alive.”
When their bodies were removed to Barefield after a service in Fermanagh attended by hundreds of people, they lay in repose in the 150-year-old church.
There, the three coffins were placed at top of the aisle beneath three stained glass windows.
The altar was beautifully decorated. And there, among the items by the steps was a wooden collection box for Women’s Aid.
At the requiem Mass representatives of the President, the Taoiseach and the Tánaiste were present. Jarlath Burns, the GAA president attended, as did staff from Enniskillen Royal Grammar School, where James and Sara were students.
Bishop Gerard Nash concelebrated.
“Here in Barefield church today with Vanessa, James and Sara, we are in the land of ‘I don’t know’,” he said in his homily.
But while the tragic events of last week – “the ripping away of three people from their family and friends” – has left people searching for answers, he reminded mourners that in dark times like this it is important to find the light.
“Darkness will not conquer.”
After the Mass, Vanessa’s brother Ivor thanked all the people who sent messages of comfort and support from all over the country. He thanked the local community for rallying around, and the GAA community from Fermanagh for its great support.
Then he echoed the unflinching words spoken earlier by his sister Regina.
“We hope and pray that no other family has to experience the unimaginable grief and loss we have endured since the 23rd of July” he said. “We hope that anyone who may live in fear today recognises that if they reach out, this love and support that is part of our communities will be there for them too.”
Local men and women provided stewarding inside and outside the church. “About 30 of us, and many more willing,” said one.
A farmer opened his field for parking.
The hearses prepared to move.
Young Sara and James were as tall as their mother when they died – their coffins were the same.
And then, just before the cortege left for Templemaley cemetery, Mary Whyte walked up to the leading hearse and sat in the passenger seat.
If Vanessa was still leading her two children, still with them as she always was, then her mother would be there for her daughter too, accompanying her and her grandchildren on their final journey.
