Seven years ago, the horror of the mother-and-baby home was discovered by amateur historian Catherine Corless. She tracked down the death certificates for 796 babies who had died in the care of the Bon Secours nuns.
She then discovered that only three of the number had been buried in local cemeteries.
It emerged that the worst scenario was true.
The remains had been dumped into the chambers of an old septic tank.
The nuns had tried to sell the story that they were remains from the Famine but that was proved to be a complete fabrication.
The minister for children, four years ago, had promised a full excavation of the site.
Guess what?
Didn’t happen.
The UN issued a stinging rebuke to the Irish government.
The infant mortality rate in the care home was off the scales: 802 children died in the home right up to 1961.
Clusters of death certificates showed many babies dying within weeks of one another.
Worse, most of the babies died of malnutrition.
The Bon Secours sisters describe themselves as a nursing congregation.
Further research showed some of the babies who didn’t die were shipped off to American families. In return for a donation.
The Bon Secours order is a billion-dollar business with hospitals in the US and Ireland. They employ sixty thousand people.
They have offered two million euros toward the cost of exhuming the babies, whereas the cost of the operation will be at least thirteen million.
It is little wonder that nuns are fearful of being out in public.
Sister Agnes and Sister Mary were the names of the two nuns who had been attacked. They belonged to the Sisters of Mercy. I wanted to talk to them, but Sheila said that was out of the question.
They had been attacked in the early evening, two weeks apart. Sheila was convinced that a third attack was imminent. I was furious.
“You ask for help but where on earth am I supposed to begin?”
She gave me a long look, then,
“You are supposed to be good at this.”
I told her in all truth,
“I was never good at it. I got lucky a few times and most of the cases got solved despite me, not because of me.”
“You have a very dim view of yourself.”
I said,
“You have no idea.”