‘Dome Gone’ but it will rise stronger and better than before

We love talking about the weather, don’t we?

“As long as it’s dry, I don’t mind,” is a phrase many of us use during the usual small talk that fills our days. But, last weekend, the weather was hardly a topic of casual conversation. Instead, we were all coming to terms with the damage caused by Storm Eowyn — a name that sounds more Welsh than Irish, but one that certainly made its mark on the country.

I’m the type of person who usually sleeps soundly through anything, but Thursday night into Friday morning was a different story. I woke up at around 3 a.m. and definitely by 4 a.m., I could hear the storm outside.

It was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. At one point, I honestly thought the roof might come off the house. I half-expected to wake up to the roof of the turf shed gone, or even sheets of galvanized steel scattered across the lawn. 

And as for the garage? God only knew what would happen there.

I must’ve dozed off a few times, but I always seemed to wake up to the sound of wind doing its best to wake up the entire village — and I’m sure it did. What struck me most, though, was the darkness. There wasn’t even a hint of light — no streetlight glow, no lights from the ambulance base next door, and none of the usual light from electrical items in the room.

The power was out, and the world outside was pitch black.

Beyond the howling wind, there was an eerie silence. At one point, the wind stopped completely. And for a few moments, there was a stillness that felt almost unnatural. No sound, no light, no movement — just the sensation of the bed clothes around me.

Was this the calm before the storm, or after? I hoped it was the latter. But, of course, it wasn’t. The storm picked up again.

I should’ve checked the time, but I didn’t. Eventually, I drifted back to sleep. When I woke up again, just before 6 a.m., the wind was still raging. I looked at my phone, but of course, there was no signal. It was just as well the phone was charged and on silent.

As I lay there, wondering what the day might hold, a new WhatsApp message appeared. It was from John Prenty, and the message was simple but devastating: “Dome Gone.”

Two words.

But for many of us in the GAA community, they summed up the storm perfectly. The Connacht GAA Air Dome, a landmark structure at the Connacht GAA Centre in Bekan, was gone. The very thing that had symbolised a new chapter in addressing the challenges posed by climate change in the west of Ireland was no more.

Just the night before, at around 9 p.m., I had driven out of the Connacht Centre’s gates and looked in the rearview mirror at the Dome. I even said aloud, “Will I see you again?” There was a doubt in all of us. If the storm was as strong as predicted, we feared it could be curtains for the Dome.

The damage had been anticipated, and plans were in place. John and his team had been in constant contact with experts, including the suppliers from Slovenia, the constructors, and engineers. They knew the risks. The weather forecast from Met Éireann had predicted violent winds and dropping pressure. The Dome was pressurised, like an airplane in the sky, and its lights, positioned high up, couldn’t be lowered.

The plan was to keep the pressure regulated and the structure inflated, relying on the generators to keep everything running smoothly.

John Prenty and his team had worked through the night, staying until just after 2 a.m.. They had a clear escape plan, knew the exact wind speeds and pressure points at which they’d have to retreat, and had identified an emergency rendezvous point.

Their meeting at 8.30 p.m. may well have saved their lives.

The images from the Connacht GAA Centre’s CCTV on Friday afternoon were chilling. In less than three seconds, the Dome began to shift. The skin of the structure shook, then, with a soundless burst, it collapsed. It was gone — just like that.

The escape route was destroyed in an instant, and I shudder to think what could’ve happened if the team had been caught under it. The headline could have easily been “Four Dead.”

Instead, we were left with “Dome Destroyed.”

For those who aren’t familiar, the University of Galway Connacht GAA AirDome was an enormous structure housing a full-sized football pitch, a six-lane running track, and a gym for player rehabilitation and testing. It also hosted events ranging from primary school games to intercounty football and hurling, Sigerson Cup matches, ladies' football, camogie, and more even exhibitions and trade shows.

It was a vital space for both sport and community events.

Every primary school child in Connacht had the chance to play there. It was a place of pride, built through the vision of our "Two Johnnies": John Tobin and John Prenty. I remember being there the day the Dome was inflated, never imagining it would be destroyed so soon.

But there is good news. The GAA community, both locally and nationally, is committed to rebuilding the Dome. Among the first to reach out to John Prenty were Tom Ryan, the Director General of the GAA, and Jarlath Burns, the President.

Like the Phoenix rising from the ashes, like Notre Dame in Paris “Notre Dôme”, our Dome, will be rebuilt — and it will rise stronger and better than before.