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June 9, 2009
In my little area, twenty five years ago, an irrepressible monsignor at our Marian shrine of Knock decided to build an airport to accommodate pilgrims from abroad. The project was derided by the kind of opinion makers that typically afflict the regional citizen from every capital city in the world. It could not be viable, this foggy, boggy airstrip.

In truth, itsí early years were remarkable mostly for scenes of joy and sadness, one week apart, at Christmas.

But we all missed itís critical social function. Breadwinners could fly to the UK to work midweek, and come home at weekends.