Irish radio DJ writes powerful open letter to Paul Kelly following the Console revelations

JOE

He has put into words what many of us are thinking and feeling.

This week, a report by RTÉ Investigates revealed that former CEO of Console, Paul Kelly had spent almost €500,000 of the charity’s money on personal things like designer clothes and holidays for he and his family.

The report rightly caused outrage and upset nationwide.

Many who have been affected by suicide or mental health issues in Ireland are feeling deeply betrayed by Kelly.

Families who have lost loved ones to suicide have put fundraisers together and donated their own money to this charity as a way to honour the memory of their friend, parent or child.

Imagine how they feel knowing that money raised in the name of their loved one was spent on a trip to New Zealand or tickets World Rugby Cup for Paul Kelly and his family.

It is difficult to put into words how how deeply this has hurt many people, but one man has done it very well.

Radio Presenter, Author and Psychotherapist Gareth O’ Callaghan has written a Facebook post detailing his involvement with Paul Kelly and Console, and what he makes of the shocking spendings by the former CEO.

Gareth talks about being very involved with the charity since he wrote a thought provoking book called A Day Called Hope, when Paul Kelly contacted him to get involved.

He was even asked once by Kelly to take over as CEO.

In the emotional post, Gareth made many relatable points, three of which stood out.

Kelly was a hero to so many people, and he let them all down

“Paul Kelly became my hero, like he did for so many people” He wrote.

What you have done, Paul Kelly, is literally unthinkable.

The word ‘charity’ has become a dirty word in Ireland in recent years; but there are certain charities that I – like so many others – just assumed could never have suffered from what you and your wife and your sister and your son have brought upon this amazing, spirit-filled charity’s good name and its dedicated, extended support teams.

You lost sight of those who believed in you – the faceless individuals who you have been taking money from for years.

I could never have imagined that someone with your respect (Person Of The Year!) and natural inbuilt responsibilities for what you have created could have taken the families of suicide victims for granted as you have done. What about your sister, Paul? You cried for her loss and your loneliness the morning we first met. What happened since then?

How can greed possibly have blinded him from all the grief?

Can greed really make you take advantage of someone who feels so lost and misunderstood that they feel that death is more preferable to the pain of life?

Can that greed really blind you to the fact that the money you have been spending belongs to the heartbroken grief of someone who feels that the only way they can keep their child’s memory alive and close to their heart is by fundraising so that maybe they can prevent another suicide?

There are plenty of honest, good people working in Console

I am finding strength to write about it in order to lend my support to the ‘only’ real Console team, namely its counsellors and its admin teams and managers – and of course those amazing fundraisers who go way beyond the call of duty to support the most broken people in society, namely those who lose a loved-one through suicide.

I know that the real Console workers and dedicated supporters will regroup and find a way to move beyond and far away from your despicable deceit; and they will continue to reach out to those who need their support.

You can read the full Facebook post below

Anyone who knows me well also knows that the charity ‘Console’ has been very close to my heart for as long as I can remember. The charity is front-page news this week for shocking reasons.

I am sick from what I’ve been reading in recent days, and it’s only now that I am finding strength to write about it in order to lend my support to the ‘only’ real Console team, namely its counsellors and its admin teams and managers – and of course those amazing fundraisers who go way beyond the call of duty to support the most broken people in society, namely those who lose a loved-one through suicide. Most of the fundraisers know what that feels like. They have been there and always will be. The suicide of a loved one freezes you in a lonely place in time forever.

Paul Kelly contacted me ten years ago and asked me to if I would become involved in Console. I had written ‘A Day Called Hope’ a few years before, revealing my struggles with my own mental health. And so I was delighted to volunteer my time and ideas. I had lost two close friends through suicide. I had also struggled for years with severe depression and had felt very suicidal a number of times. (Thankfully I am still here.)

In 2007 Paul Kelly told me he was taking a step back from fronting the charity and asked me if I would be interested in becoming the CEO of Console. I was very flattered by his offer, but following a chance to consider it I declined. Mainly because I had no experience whatsoever of heading up a charity, let alone one that I knew was destined to quickly become one of Ireland’s foremost charities – only because of the number of young people taking their own lives in this country.

I continued to work as a frontline supporter and volunteer for Console for a couple of years, becoming the public face and voice of the charity whenever I was asked. I enjoyed the work, challenging as it was.

Many people I met during that time had lost loved ones in these indescribably tragic circumstances. Their loss was an open wound that no amount of time will ever heal. I felt so honoured and priviledged to be sharing their deeply private pain and loss and anger and love and confusion; and also to listen to their appreciation and respect for a small charity (as it was back then) that wanted to reach out to them exclusively in their frozen, stunned isolation – bereft of anything that might help them to make sense of the greatest loss they could ever imagine being subjected to in a single short lifetime.

Paul Kelly became my hero, like he did for so many people. His sister Sharon’s death by suicide was the seed that saw Console grow into what it quickly became – thanks to its dedicated, tireless staff and volunteers and fundraisers. The spirit of Sharon is what inspired the early work that turned an idea into a dedicated way of life for so many whose lives literally overnight, suddenly in a single breath, consisted of the ‘Before’ (when life was perfect) and the ‘After’ (where life makes no sense whatsoever ever again).

Console kept these lost souls alive and gave their heartbroken lives a new meaning in a very short space of time, and would continue to do so for all those years since. And it’s crucial that we remember this evening that it still does and always will, thanks to the same staff and volunteers.

What you have done, Paul Kelly, is literally unthinkable. The word ‘charity’ has become a dirty word in Ireland in recent years; but there are certain charities that I – like so many others – just assumed could never have suffered from what you and your wife and your sister and your son have brought upon this amazing, spirit-filled charity’s good name and its dedicated, extended support teams.

You lost sight of those who believed in you – the faceless individuals who you have been taking money from for years. I could never have imagined that someone with your respect (Person Of The Year!) and natural inbuilt responsibilities for what you have created could have taken the families of suicide victims for granted as you have done. What about your sister, Paul? You cried for her loss and your loneliness the morning we first met. What happened since then?

I don’t know who exactly will judge you eventually. But clearly (long after the investigations have been forgotten about) your conscience will continue to ask you the questions that for now you are pretending you are not obliged to answer.

Here’s a question for you, Paul. Sleep on this one tonight if you can: Can greed really make you take advantage of someone who feels so lost and misunderstood that they feel that death is more preferable to the pain of life?

It’s as simple as that. Sleep well, Paul. You and your family. Tonight. Do you ever think of the families who can’t sleep tonight because there’s a small bed somewhere in their house that will forever remain empty?

Meanwhile it might take some time, but I know that the real Console workers and dedicated supporters will regroup and find a way to move beyond and far away from your despicable deceit; and they will continue to reach out to those who need their support – the same people you seemed so concerned about when you and I spoke over coffee those ten short years ago.