PRESIDENT MICHAEL Daniel Higgins turned off his mobile phone and tried to concentrate on his acceptance address.
On the day he became the 9th President of Ireland, he stayed at home in his Dublin apartment, his family around him.
As he drafted the most momentous speech of his life, he waited on a call from his election agent, Kevin O’Driscoll. When the declaration of the first count neared, the call came in.
Michael D left Mount Street at about 7.30 in the evening and went to “a holding position” in the Radisson Hotel on Golden Lane. His wife Sabina and four children with him.
His Special Branch detail was already in place.
Once the result came in from the final, 43rd, constituency, he made his way to Dublin Castle’s, The Print Works building, on this occasion.
In a fortnight, he will grace the gilded environs of St Patrick’s Hall, when he will swear the presidential oath.
It had been a very rough election campaign. Seven hopefuls lined up at the start, and one by one, they fell off the pace. In the end, two contenders remained: young pretender Seán Gallagher and the seasoned and stately Michael D.
In the end, following a sensational reversal of fortune for Gallagher, Michael D, with his wounded knee, was the last man standing.
The experts had predicted a very close fight between them. It didn’t happen. On the closing lap, poetry perfectly outpaced the plamás.
In Dublin Castle, they built a platform for the final declaration. “Presidential Election 2011” it said on the backdrop, which was deep shade of maroon – Galway’s colour, as was only right, for Michael D.
Before he set out on his first journey as president-elect, he sat in a book-lined study, with his favourite pieces of modern art on the walls and came to terms with his changed circumstances.
“He’s quite nervous about it now and what lies ahead,” said a colleague.
The vanquished six, one by one, conceded earlier in the afternoon, with front-runner Gallagher throwing in the towel by teatime.
As befitting the occasion, all earlier traces of hostility were shelved and they graciously welcomed Michael D’s victory.
“What’s done is done and what’s won is won, and Michael D has won it,” said Martin McGuinness of Sinn Féin, who arrived with Gerry Adams.
“Sing it. Sing it!” chimed in Gerry.
Tánaiste and Labour Party leader Eamon Gilmore was in high spirits. Next year sees the centenary of the party.
“Connolly and Larkin proposed it and we will go into our second century with the party being the biggest it’s ever been, we’re in Government and our nominee has won the presidency.”
Although he stressed that he “won’t be a Labour president, we have a president for all Ireland”.
(But not until after the celebration party in the back in the Radisson, where the Labour staff and volunteers danced the night away.)
As the clock approached 9pm, the rest of the candidates gathered.
Finally, our next president arrived and was feted by his jubilant campaign workers.
You could see it in him – this was the proudest day of his life.
His crowning achievement.
And the lines from his poem “Memory” came to mind:
We make an affirmation.
The stuff of hope beckons.
Out of the darkness we step,
and blink into the new light.
Uachtaráin Michael Daniel Higgins.
Or President Michael D – to you and me.
