Remembering the Philosopher in the Pharmacy

On the day after the passing of Bernard Berney, it seems appropriate that the Diary republishes the article I wrote about him in 2008, as he pondered on 30 years of running ‘The Chemist’s’, writes Brian Byrne. For obvious reasons, I titled it ‘The Philosopher in the Pharmacy’. But Bernard was so much more than that ...




Bernard Berney isn't quite happy with his new state of the art pharmacy on Main Street, back into which he and his colleagues have moved following a major rebuild of the original 'Chemist's Shop'.

"It seems to me to be a bit impersonal, a rather sterile place," muses the man who has served the pharmacy needs of Kilcullen people for more than three decades. "I have this idea that I'll find a quiet corner and put up In Memoriam cards of people who have passed through over the years. I have quite a collection of them."

This is no morbid notion. No, it's the thinking of a man who simply loves his town and its people, and who firmly believes it is a 'beautiful thing' that he has been allowed by so many of them to share joys and sorrows in their individual journeys through life. To quietly but publicly remember those who have passed on, and in the process add their humanity to a 'sterile place', is typical of Bernard Berney. It is one of the reasons that he in turn is loved by his people as much as he loves them.

Going into pharmacy wasn't a deeply considered thing for Bernard when he finished his Leaving Cert and was 'cogitating' on what he might do. "The thought was planted by a brother-in-law, Tom Healy. I hadn't an idea of the possibilities, but I simply said 'why not?'."

At the time, pharmacy was a diploma course, but his class was the last one before the subject became a degree endeavour. The system was a year of basic study, then three years as an 'apprentice' to a practicing retail chemist, followed by one final year of study. Bernard's mentor was one Richard Killian Deevy in Morehampton Road in Dublin.

"He was a lovely man, and I learned much from him. At the time there was a lot more 'manufacturing' of medicines in the shops themselves, making up cough mixtures and stomach treatments and the like. So there was that great deal of practical work, and we also learned fascinating things like the properties of plants and their extracts."

It was also a more innocent time in the world of drugs, and Bernard recalls how simple it was for anybody to buy amphetamines over the counter. "You could come in and ask for half a dozen of those 'Purple Hearts'. There was no control, and not many people bothered with them, except, for instance, a few who might want to stay awake while doing some prolonged study. But that all changed over a period of about 15 years, to the point when they were all withdrawn and locked in a big safe in St James's Hospital."

After qualifying, Bernard didn't immediately go into the business directly, but landed a job as a rep for J D Searle, an American company providing drugs to psychiatric hospitals at the time.

"That was an extraordinary experience. I was driving thousands of miles all around the 32 counties. My day's work might consist of two hours visiting a hospital, and then spending the rest of the day tootling along in my car to overnight before my next day's appointment. It was great -- I read a lot, ate in the best hotels. Looking back, I probably didn't make the most of it, but I had a lovely time."

After about five years or so he moved into a new job at St James's Hospital, where he was the first 'ward pharmacist' in Ireland. "This was an idea that had come in from England, where instead of a pharmacist being locked away in a dark place and managing orders sent down from the wards, he worked directly in a ward. The notion was that he could control overstocking and any abuse, and also give the nurses information on situations that could arise with combinations of drugs."

Bernard would be the first to admit that he has never worked to a life plan, but life has tended to do its own planning for him. So when Kilcullen chemist Eugene Gilsenan got married and left town to set up his own business elsewhere in the late 70s, Dr Dan O'Connell, proprietor of the shop, asked Bernard would he be interested in filling his shoes.

"Trying to fit into Eugene's boots was an impossible task. He was larger than life, and had developed a large veterinary supplies business simply from listening to farmers who knew far more than they realised. I had just three days with him before he left, and after that I was in at the deep end."

Now working for himself, business was to be for Bernard a road with many potholes for a man who says that he has always been a 'hopeless' businessman. "I never did get the hang of dealing properly with farmers," he recalls wryly, "and it wasn't until the veterinary stuff disappeared that I began to make any money."

Not that money has ever been that important to Bernard. But he does know that even at an age when he might consider taking things easier, the recent investment in the new premises was necessary for the future of the business itself. Local man John Coleman, who qualified four years ago, is now looking after the pharmacy end of the work, while Bernard's son John is the business manager.

Apart from the pharmacy, Bernard is well known for his acting with the Kilcullen Drama Group, particularly in the farces for which they are famous. His stories about those years are for a different time, but are often more hilarious than some of the plays themselves.

And though he wouldn't say it himself, he is regarded with considerable justification as something of a philosopher. Typical is his attitude to his customers.

"I believe we're all in this together, and if somebody calls me in the middle of the night or over Christmas because they need something out of hours, I don't have a problem. It is a beautiful thing to sometimes be able to relieve pain or sorrow in some small way. It's what I call the Simon of Cyrene experience. You can just help to carry their cross for a little while, then they go on. They're still carrying the cross, but they know there was somebody prepared to help them with it on a little part of their journey."

In an era when the hustle of making the big bucks is arguably the new God, that's the kind of thinking that can bring us back to earth again.

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