It is a measure of Dick Walsh's towering stature in The Irish Times that everyone wanted to know yesterday how it could happen: from John in the newsroom, to Frank in photographers, Irene in the library and Joan in the canteen.
Dick had been severely disabled for many years, travelling rarely into the office accompanied by what I jokingly called his "perambulator" and oxygen apparatus. He had had sporadic spells in hospital over a decade. He had been at death's door. But he always bounced back with another blast of that sharp pen and incisive tongue.
It didn't happen this time.
I met Dick Walsh on my first day in The Irish Times in February, 1973. He was a giant in journalism but, even then, always found time to encourage cub reporters. He never changed over the years.
Dick was a fearless champion of the causes he believed in: parliamentary democracy, social justice, equality and the rights of the individual against the State. He was passionate about standards in journalism. His life and love was The Irish Times and he was fiercely proud and possessive of The Irish Times Trust and the unique independence it gives the newspaper.
He was a loyal friend and a fierce enemy. He hated humbug: in people, place and politics. He always sided with the small person. Though he lived in Dublin for most of his life, he never ceased to be a Clareman. He was passionate about the exposure of corrupt practices in politics. Fianna Fáil could do no good, in his view, thereafter.
Above all else, Dick loved literary words and good conversation. He could travel through world politics on the phone in later years, mostly as one reached the deadline!
I marvelled when I was young at the detail of his knowledge about historical events. His big story as a journalist was the coverage of the Arms Crisis in 1970. He never wavered in his admiration for Jack Lynch and Des O'Malley from that time.
Listening to him, I wondered if I would ever be in the honoured position as a reporter to know personally the happenings making history.
Dick's kindness knew no bounds. He was also great fun.
He gave so generously of his time to the public service side of journalism. He was nominated as a member of honour of the National Union of Journalists last year.
He was responsible for the establishment of the Editorial Committee in The Irish Times, a committee concerned with editorial and ethical standards in journalism.
Dick Walsh was an institution within this institution and it is hard to believe that he is dead. We will not see his likes again.
To his wife, Ruth Kelly, his twin daughters, Suzanne and Francesca, and beloved granddaughter, Millicent Baker, who brought such a gleam to his eye, our sincere sympathies. And thanks.
GERALDINE KENNEDY