Ronan Keating calls for stronger fatal car crash sentences and voices his 'disappointment over broken system' after man who caused death of his brother avoids prison
The singer, 48, voiced his 'disappointment over Ireland's broken system' after a man escaped a prison sentence for causing Ciaran's death.
Ciaran died in the car crash in July 2023 as he travelled with his wife to watch their son play football.
Dean Harte, 22, was given a 17-month suspended sentence for a period of two years at Castlebar Circuit Criminal Court.
Ronan told RTÉ's Drivetime: 'What happened to Ciaran, the injustice, the heartbreak, the devastating impact it has, and not just on Ciaran's siblings, but on his children, his grandchildren, his wife.'
In relation to the suspended sentence handed to Harte, Ronan added: 'All of the pain and the hurt is in losing somebody. This is just disgusting. It's awful - this situation.
'You can't get angry. You're floored. You're disappointed. The system is broken.
'As a family, we don't want to send some 22-year-old kid to jail. We don't want to see some kid go to jail whose life is going to be thrown away. That's not what we're looking for.
'But what we're looking for is to make sure somebody else doesn't die because of careless driving. That some other family's life is not going to be ripped apart.'
Ciaran's son Conall said he would like to see 'credible deterrents' for drivers against careless and dangerous driving, adding that Ireland could 'pioneer' solutions around tracking speeding and phone use within cars.
Asked if still believed the justice system was broken, Ronan Keating said the family had not seen any evidence of change since the sentencing.
'It's up to us now, the family, to try to do something about it. We won't let this lie.'
Ciaran's brother Gerard said his confidence in the investigatory system was 'rocked' after he found an impacted door of the car in a ditch 10 metres from the crash site two days later.
Ronan added that the discovery of the door should have been made by An Garda Siochana.
He explained: 'There are many questions, many questions. We have so many questions, but we're just a family. We're just another family that have been scarred by this broken system.
'Ger went there and was doing a job that the police force here in Ireland should be doing. It should have been covered with a fine-tooth comb.'
Gerard also told the programme that he was left with questions in the judicial system, adding that the family was 'scarred'.
In February, Ronan called for the 'lenient' sentence of a man who caused the death of his brother in a car crash to be appealed.
Taking to Instagram, Ronan shared a statement from the Keating family where he shared their surprise and disappointment at the leniency of the sentence.
Ronan said the family will be seeking for Harte's sentence to be appealed as they 'rightfully fight for justice' to put a stop to reckless driving.
He wrote: 'The Keating family are surprised and hugely disappointed with the sentence and hope and expect the DPP to appeal the leniency of it.
'We will be encouraging the DPP to appeal and rightfully fight for justice. Not only for Ciaran and our family, but for all of those killed on Irish roads and at the hands of someone else's selfish actions.
'The only way to stop reckless driving and encourage people (especially youth) to abide by the law, is to enforce consequences for not doing so.'
Ronan captioned the statement: 'No family should ever have to make an official statement of this nature, we thank you for your time and patience while we digested and composed ourselves after the upsetting events that transpired yesterday.'
Ciaran, who was in his 50s and from Louisburgh, Ireland, suffered fatal injuries as he was travelling at around 3.35pm with his wife on the N5 near Swinford, Co Mayo, on a stretch of road known as a black-spot for accidents.
Ronan took to Instagram and posted his son speaking to Irish news channel RTE as he said: 'Today's sentencing was a devastating example of just how broken our justice system is.
'You can kill a man... and you can walk free. Not even a single night in prison. Just a slap on the wrist and a ticket to carry on with your life, like nothing ever happened.
'And then we wonder why we keep seeing this kind of behaviour on our roads, why people keep dying in road accidents across Ireland every week?
'it's a joke and it's morally corrupt that rather than trying to fix our broken system, they all turn a blind eye.'
He continued: 'Shame on Dean Harte but more-so shame on everyone involved in this process that contributed to the heartbreaking outcome for my family today.
'The Lord himself knows the injustic that was served and the Keating family will never find peace.
'We will continue to fight for Ciaran's justice. At this time we think of all the other families who have found themselves in our position, and we pray that other families never do.'
Dean was travelling with a work colleague to Westport when his Audi A3 veered onto the wrong side of road and smashed head on with Ciaran's Ford Focus.
He died at the scene, at Ballymiles between Swinford and Bohola.
Ciaran was going to see son Ruairí play an Irish Premier League match.
Ciaran's son Ruairí started the match for Cork against Sligo Rovers, but was taken off at halftime.
The crash came 24 hours before Ruairí's 28th birthday. The forward has played for Irish teams Sligo Rovers and Galway United as well as English side Torquay United.
In a statement Cork City FC said: 'All at Cork City FC are deeply saddened at the passing of Ciaran Keating, father of our player Ruairí Keating.
'We extend our deepest sympathies to Ruairí and the entire Keating family at this exceptionally difficult time. May he rest in peace.
'We ask that the family's privacy be respected at this difficult time. Funeral arrangements will be confirmed in due course.'
Ciaran is believed to have worked as a car salesman and previously ran a bar.
Councillor John O'Malley offered his condolences and said: 'Everyone is shocked and saddened by the awful news.
'He was highly regarded by all who knew him here and we are thinking of his wife and children and his extended family.'
The League of Ireland also expressed its condolences to the Keating family.
A tweet said: 'The League of Ireland is deeply saddened to hear of the sudden passing of Ruairi Keating's father Ciaran.
'We would like to send our condolences to Ruairi and his family and all at @CorkCityFC at this very difficult time.'
Ciaran's wife, who was in the front seat of the car during the crash, was hospitalised with life-threatening injuries and was unable to attend his funeral due to her condition.
Dean pleaded guilty after being charged with careless driving causing death and serious injury.
Alongside his suspended sentence, he was also banned from driving for two years by Judge Eoin Garavan.
Before imposing sentence, Judge Garavan said there was no evidence of intoxication, no speed issues and 'no egregious example of earlier dangerous driving'.
While the court heard there had been no evidence of phone activity on Dean's part at the time of the crash, he had dispatched a WhatsApp message a short time earlier.
Evidence was also given that showed there were trace elements of cannabis in the driver's blood.
Dean told Irish police at the time that he had consumed cannabis at a party a couple of nights before.
His counsel described the accident as 'an absolute tragedy' and said the life of the Keating family had been changed forever.
He said it can be difficult for the bereaved to accept an apology but a letter from Harte expressing genuine remorse had been offered but, perhaps understandable, had been been rejected.
Impact statements on behalf of Ciaran's wife and her family were read out at the hearing by son, Conall.
She wrote: 'Ciaran was the love of my life and the beat of my heart. I will never get over this and be the same again.'
Hashtags
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
The Guardian
an hour ago
- The Guardian
The Miami Showband massacre: what led to the killing of the ‘Irish Beatles'?
'It was absolutely despicable,' says Des Lee, his voice trembling with emotion, 'to think that those people who were supposed to be protecting us had planned our murder …' I've never heard a story as astonishing as Lee's. His memoir, My Saxophone Saved My Life, recounts the events of half a century ago, in which his much-loved pop group, the Miami Showband, were ambushed by loyalist paramilitaries operating a fake army checkpoint, with half his bandmates murdered as he lay still, playing dead to stay alive. Though the attack carries strangely little traction in Britain, the Miami Showband massacre of 1975 is deeply etched into Irish cultural memory. Even amid the context of the Troubles, whose bleak statistics – more than 3,600 dead, more than 47,500 injured – made slaughter almost normalised, the killing of three members of the Miami Showband left Ireland in shock. Fifty years after the atrocity, Lee, 79, tells me about a tangled plot with its roots in the uniquely Irish phenomenon of showbands. In their heyday in the 1950s to 70s, showbands – besuited troupes, closer to cabaret than rock'n'roll, performing contemporary hits with slick routines choreographed down to the last synchronised leg kick – fulfilled a need for glamour and escapism at a time when overseas stars seldom visited Ireland. Showbands, who typically took the stage around midnight, provided a crucial context in which young people from the Catholic and Protestant communities could forget their troubles (and the Troubles), and let their hair down. 'As far as we were concerned,' Lee recalls, 'a punter was a punter, no matter what religion, creed or colour. They would mingle, and you could have a Protestant meeting a Catholic and getting married. It was incredible.' Born John Desmond McAlea on 29 July 1946, Lee grew up in the Catholic suburb of Andersonstown, West Belfast, in a relatively comfortable working-class family. He would supplement his pocket money in audacious ways. On 12 July, AKA The Twelfth or Orangemen's Day, the Protestant community would hold rallies at which the likes of Reverend Ian Paisley would vehemently denounce Republicans and Catholics. Lee would go along and blend with the crowd, collecting bottles discarded by the Loyalist throng and claiming the penny deposits. Lee found a job at a plumbing supplier but his head was soon turned by rock'n'roll, and he quit to follow in the footsteps of his nightclub musician father. He served his apprenticeship on a thriving Belfast scene centred around Cymbals instrument shop, where he rubbed shoulders with a teenage Van Morrison ('A strange guy,' says Lee, 'but an exceptional talent') and future members of Thin Lizzy. In 1967, the circuit's leading act, the Miami Showband, underwent one of its periodic reshuffles and drafted in Lee on sax, along with a handsome, charismatic singer-pianist called Fran O'Toole. Fronted by Dickie Rock, who had represented Ireland at Eurovision, the Miami were as big as it got. When Des calls them 'The Irish Beatles' with a twinkle, it's only slight hyperbole: they topped the Irish singles chart seven times. 'When I got the deal to join,' says Lee, 'I thought, 'My God, all my birthdays are coming together.' I jumped at it.' 'Girls were screaming,' he says. 'We would have 2,500 people inside watching us, and 2,500 outside trying to get in. I couldn't go to the shop without people wanting my autograph. It was stardom with a capital S.' Lee developed a close friendship and songwriting partnership with O'Toole, who later replaced Rock as frontman. Lee became the bandleader. His responsibilities included repertoire and finances, and ensuring everyone looked immaculate (70s footage shows them in dazzling-white suits with glittering lapels). He also instilled discipline. 'My job was to make sure everybody was squeaky clean,' he says. 'No going on the piss before a gig. We weren't saints or angels, make no mistake. What goes on afterwards, behind closed doors, nobody knows. But we had to put on a professional show.' The Miami Showband entered the summer of 1975 in an optimistic mood. The band had scored major hits with Charlie Rich's country standard There Won't Be Anymore and Bonnie St Claire's bubblegum-glam nugget Clap Your Hands and Stamp Your Feet. O'Toole was being groomed for solo stardom, and had been booked to play Las Vegas to launch his Lee-penned single Love Is, with the intention of positioning him as the next David Cassidy. But that show never took place. On Wednesday 30 July 1975, the Miami played the Castle Ballroom in Banbridge, County Down, about 10 miles north of the border. 'It was just a normal night, nothing untoward. We came off stage and did the usual thing: signed autographs, chatted to the fans, then we had a cup of tea and a sandwich, and got ready to do the journey back to Dublin.' Road manager Brian Maguire went ahead in the equipment van. Drummer Ray Millar drove separately to visit family in Antrim. The rest of the band – O'Toole, Lee, Brian McCoy, bassist Stephen Travers and guitarist Tony Geraghty – climbed into the Volkswagen minibus and headed south. Eight miles into the journey, at 2.30am on Thursday 31 July, they were flagged down by the red torch of an army checkpoint, a commonplace occurrence in the North. 'You would be asked the same questions: 'Where are you going, where are you coming from?'' says Lee. 'We would be sitting in the van with a bottle of brandy or whiskey, and we'd occasionally offer a drop to the soldier who stopped us.' They were asked to step out of the van – again, not entirely unusual – and made to line up facing the roadside ditch. At first, the soldiers chatted casually, but their demeanour changed when someone with an English accent joined them and began giving orders. McCoy found this reassuring, telling Travers that they were dealing with the British army rather than the less predictable, locally recruited Ulster Defence Regiment (UDR). Before the search, Lee asked permission to fetch his saxophone to show it wasn't a weapon, laying it on the road a few feet away. Suddenly, an almighty explosion tore through the van, throwing all five musicians across the ditch into the undergrowth. The soldiers had not been soldiers at all – at least, not on duty. The fake army patrol were members of the paramilitary Ulster Volunteer Force (UVF), although at least four of them were also serving with the UDR. Their intention was to plant a briefcase bomb under the driver's seat, timed to explode further down the road. The timer malfunctioned, instantly killing two members of the UVF's Mid-Ulster Brigade, Harris Boyle and Wesley Somerville. In the chaos, an order was given to shoot the fleeing musicians to eliminate witnesses. Lee lay still with his face in the grass, slowing his breathing and pretending to be dead – a trick he had learned from watching Vietnam movies – as he heard the murder of his friends taking place around him. First to die was McCoy, 32, shot in the back with a Luger pistol. Travers, 24, hit by a dumdum bullet, was seriously wounded. As Geraghty, 24, and O'Toole, 28, attempted to drag him to safety, they were caught by gunmen, pleading for their lives before being executed with Sterling submachine guns. O'Toole was shot 22 times, his long-haired head so badly mutilated that a doctor would later ask Lee if there was a girl in the band. Travers lay next to the body of McCoy and, like Lee, played dead. Once the attackers had apparently left the scene, Lee cautiously went to fetch help. 'The main road was the most horrific scene I've ever seen in my life,' he remembers. 'There were bits of bodies lying all over the place. It was horrendous.' The first passing vehicle, a truck, refused to give Lee a lift. Eventually, a young couple agreed to drive him to nearby Newry, where he alerted police. 'My hand was on the door handle just in case, ready to jump out, because I didn't trust anybody at that stage.' The killings stunned Ireland, and thousands lined the streets for the funerals of the murdered musicians. The Miami Showband had represented hope. Not only did their shows unite communities, but their membership was mixed: McCoy and Millar were Protestants, the rest were Catholics. Is it fanciful to suggest that they were targeted because someone, somewhere, resented this pan-sectarian fraternisation? Lee doesn't think that was the motive. 'We were the No 1 band, and this gang wanted maximum publicity. If that bomb had exploded when they intended, the Miami Showband would have been accused of carrying weapons for the IRA.' (Indeed, within 12 hours, the UVF accused the band of being bomb-traffickers, describing their killing as 'justifiable homicide'.) Lee agreed to testify at the trial in Belfast on condition he was helicoptered to and from the Irish border, with 24-hour protection. His life was threatened by relatives of the accused; he has, he says, been looking over his shoulder ever since. Lance corporal Thomas Crozier and Sgt James McDowell, both of the UDR, were sentenced to life in the Maze prison, as was John Somerville, brother of the deceased Wesley and a former soldier. (They were released under the Good Friday agreement.) Everything pointed towards collusion: covert collaboration between paramilitaries and the organs of the British state. Travers, Lee and Millar relaunched the Miami Showband with new members before the year was out, to familiar scenes of hysteria – but their hearts weren't in it. Travers felt they had become a circus, and that audiences had come to stare rather than dance; he left the band the following year. For Lee, now lead singer, it could never be the same without his lost band members. 'I looked around and there was no Fran, no Brian and no Tony, and I didn't enjoy that.' In 1982, tired of feeling that he and his family were in danger, Lee started a new life in South Africa, performing as a saxophonist and band leader on the Holiday Inn circuit. He remained there for two decades, only returning after his wife, Brenda, died. Travers, meanwhile, went on a tenacious, meticulous search for the truth, engaging with numerous investigations and initiatives. A 2019 Netflix documentary, Remastered: The Miami Showband Massacre, is centred around his dogged efforts. Through the years, the finger of suspicion has repeatedly pointed at two men: Capt Robert Nairac of the Grenadier guards (later executed by Republicans), and Robin 'The Jackal' Jackson, a former soldier from County Down and a key figure in the notorious Glenanne Gang, were believed to have planned the ambush. Both were named by British intelligence whistleblowers, and Ken Livingstone named Nairac as a conspirator in his maiden speech as an MP. In December 2017, 80 documents were released including a 1987 letter from the UVF to the then-taoiseach Charles Haughey on headed notepaper, which openly admitted collusion with MI5 in the attack. The evidence was now overwhelming. The historic activities of the Glenanne Gang, including the Miami Showband Massacre, fall under the purview of Operation Denton, due to report this year. The massacre hasn't faded from Irish memory. A sculpture commemorating the dead musicians, unveiled in 2007 by former taoiseach Bertie Ahern, stands on Parnell Square in Dublin. One person who apparently didn't remember, however, was Bono, who described the 2015 shootings at the Eagles of Death Metal show in Paris as 'the first direct attack on music'. He later apologised, and U2 incorporated a slide of the Miami Showband into their show. The survivors don't have the luxury of forgetting. The trauma has left an indelible mark. Travers was diagnosed, in later life, with enduring personality change. Lee has, he tells me, experienced profound survivor's guilt. In 2021, Lee was awarded £325,000 compensation, in a package he says was presented to survivors and families as a take-it-or-leave-it deal. He considers the sum to be 'peanuts, for 50 years of anger and pain'. More than financial recompense, he says what he hopes for, with up to five perpetrators still officially unaccounted for, is closure: 'Just tell the world the truth.' My Saxophone Saved My Life by Des Lee with Ken Murray is out now (Red Stripe Press)
Telegraph
4 hours ago
- Telegraph
Sally Rooney vows to use BBC royalties to fund Palestine Action
Sally Rooney has vowed to use money from the BBC to fund the proscribed terror organisation Palestine Action. The novelist said the police should investigate the corporations and the high-street stores that stock and promote her work if they believe she is committing an act of terrorism. Membership and support of Palestine Action, including funding, can carry sentences of up to 14 years in prison after the group was banned by the Government in July. The Normal People author made the comments in the Irish Times, noting that it would be illegal for her to publish them in a British newspaper. She said she felt compelled to publicly express her support after 'more than 500 peaceful protesters' were arrested for doing the same in a single day on Aug 9. 'If this makes me a 'supporter of terror' under UK law, so be it,' she wrote. 'My books, at least for now, are still published in Britain, and are widely available in bookshops and even supermarkets. 'In recent years the UK's state broadcaster has also televised two fine adaptations of my novels, and therefore regularly pays me residual fees. 'I want to be clear that I intend to use these proceeds of my work, as well as my public platform generally, to go on supporting Palestine Action and direct action against genocide in whatever way I can. 'If the British state considers this 'terrorism', then perhaps it should investigate the shady organisations that continue to promote my work and fund my activities, such as WH Smith and the BBC.' The BBC and WH Smith have been contacted for comment. Ms Rooney said that 'to ensure that the British public is made aware of my position, I would happily publish this statement in a UK newspaper – but that would now be illegal'. She has previously expressed her support for the group in a witness statement handed to London's High Court, where the decision to proscribe the group is being challenged by one of its founders. The Irish author has now accused Sir Keir Starmer's government of stripping its citizens of 'basic rights and freedoms' to protect its relationship with Israel. The ramifications are 'profound' and 'an increasing number of artists and writers can no longer safely travel to Britain to speak in public', she said. Palestine Action was proscribed by the Home Secretary after activists allegedly broke into RAF Brize Norton in Oxfordshire and vandalised two military aircraft, causing £7m of damage. Ms Rooney, whose novels Normal People and Conversations with Friends have been adapted into BBC dramas, noted that the decision puts it on the same footing as al-Qaeda and Islamic State. This means that 'even a simple placard or T-shirt' expressing support is now 'a serious terror offence under UK law', she wrote. In the six weeks since the ban, the Metropolitan Police have arrested more than 700 people for supporting the group. The force said a further 60 people will be prosecuted for support of Palestine Action, while Norfolk Police said on Saturday that 13 people were arrested at a protest in Norwich. Ms Rooney pointed out that those arrested include an Irish citizen and a woman in Belfast. She described the arrest by PSNI officers as 'political policing', noting that the force made no arrests after a mural for the proscribed Ulster Volunteer Force, 'responsible for the murders of hundreds of civilians', was repainted in north Belfast last year. She said: 'Palestine Action, proscribed under the same law, is responsible for zero deaths and has never advocated the use of violence against any human being. 'Why then are its supporters arrested for wearing T-shirts, while murals celebrating loyalist death squads are left untouched?' Ms Rooney also questioned why the Irish Government, which has stated that Israel is committing genocide in Palestine, has remained silent when its citizens have been arrested 'for protesting an acknowledged genocide'.
Daily Mail
5 hours ago
- Daily Mail
Notorious Kinahan drug cartel introduces McDonald's-style franchise system to flood the streets of Ireland with cocaine
Ireland's notorious Kinahan drugs cartel has introduced a fast-food-style franchise system in its efforts to continue dominating the cocaine trade. The drugs syndicate has muscled its way back to being the dominant force in the Irish cocaine scene in recent months, reasserting itself as the main supplier to almost all major criminal organisations across the country again. Such is their stranglehold on the trade, that many of the gangs who filled some of the holes left by the mobsters when they fled to Dubai in the mid-2010s to exploit the lack of extradition agreement between the UAE and the EU, are also now back on board. Representatives from narcotics networks in Dublin and beyond are believed to have travelled to Dubai to meet high-ranking members of the Kinahan cartel to arrange future shipments directly from them. Those said to have travelled to the Middle East are a Clondalkin gang known as 'The Family' as well as another group who operate from Cabra, who have long been involved in major drug trafficking operations, according to The Times. It is reported that this power play by the Kinahans will now see them operate like a franchise, flooding cocaine to gangs through the streets of Ireland akin to how fast-food suppliers deliver produce to stores in an attempt to eliminate competition. The move may explain the recent decrease in gangland feuds and murders across Ireland, with the street price of the Class A drug also remaining at a stable level after a sharp increase last year. The Kinahan's new network structure is believed to be a repeat - or is at least similar - to how the cartel up bulked itself up during its original network before a series of global law enforcement operations targeted its leadership. Drugs kingpin Thomas 'Bomber' Kavanagh, who ran the UK arm of the Kinahan catrel, is one of the major players to be brought down in recent times. He was jailed for 21 years at Ipswich Crown Court in March 2022 after pleading guilty to conspiring to import class A and B drugs and money laundering offences in July 2020. Fearing the same fate, the cartel's leader Christy 'Dapper Don' Kinahan, 68, and his two sons Daniel, 48, and Christopher Jr, 44, have already devised a contingency plan should the gardai attempt to extradite them from their base in Dubai. The Irish government signed two treaties with UAE representatives which allowed them to extradite suspected organised crime accomplices last October - a move which now has the Kinahans on red alert. Security sources also told The Times that 'Dapper Don' now travels with a bodyguard when in public, such is his paranoia about being snared. Author Mark Galeotti, an expert on multi-country crime, told the publication that the cartel's move to seemingly become a drugs conglomerate made sense - for them. The three are said to have already devised a contingency plan should the gardai attempt to extradite them from their base in Dubai He said: 'If you've got all the architecture, the pipeline, the infrastructure in order to move the drugs and you know where the markets are, why would you abandon that? Isn't it better to trade that out to others who are going to be your proxies in effect?' The Kinahan's global clients are said to include Mexican cartels, Hezbollah and Iran's intelligence services. It is believed that the gang have assets worth around $1.5billion hidden in offshore accounts and in hidden international investments. The cartel was previously headed-up by Liam Byrne, who relocated to Dubai when Garda drug teams began closing in. He was arrested in June 2023 while holidaying in Mallorca and was later extradited to the UK. Byrne, a close friend of 'Dapper Don', was convicted of firearms offences by Britain's National Crime Agency and was released on licence in January. In April 2022, the US Department of State placed up to $5million in rewards for information that leads to each of the arrests and prosecution of 'Dapper Don' and his two sons, branding them the heads of a major international drugs cartel.
