9 August 2023<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Just after 2.30pm on the first day of August, Brian Greene turned off Baldoyle\u2019s Main Street and onto a brick pathway that guides pedestrians onto the Strand Road.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He ambled down the shortcut, hidden behind a small triangular green with palm-like shrubs and a few trees ringed in by a fence of broken branches.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
At a timber telephone pole, Greene paused. Just off the pathway embedded in the grass was a slab of concrete. It was cracked and uneven, and its sole notable feature was a pair of Telecom \u00c9ireann manhole covers.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThis is where it was,\u201d he said. The former site of an old Eircom phone box, which was stripped out in late June.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Social Democrats Councillor Joan Hopkins said on Tuesday evening that the Baldoyle Wild Towns group had tried to repurpose the phone box several times. \u201cFrom libraries to bug hotels, but couldn\u2019t get permission due to the location.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Instead, when the councillor announced its removal on 30 June via Facebook, she said: \u201cIt was being used as a bin\/loo and really was an eyesore.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
There was once, however, much more to the box.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Decades back, in the summer of 1986, it was used as a line for song requests by the village\u2019s short-lived pirate radio station, Big Beat Radio.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
This forgotten detail was pointed out by Michelle Sullivan.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It was a moment in the history of pirate radio and of youthful innovation that deserves to be commemorated, said Sullivan on Monday<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThe phone box has been removed, so it\u2019s not a question of preservation,\u201d she said. \u201cBut this offers a good opportunity to remember a particular time in Baldoyle history.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Councillor Hopkins agreed: \u201cIt would be great to mark this bit of history\/heritage in some way.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Revisiting<\/strong><\/h2>\n\n\n\nOutside the Baldoyle Community Centre, across the street from the site of the former phone box, Brian Greene orders a coffee at a kiosk.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It was in a small room around the side of the hall that he, his twin brother D\u00f3nal, and four friends set up the studio that would become Big Beat Radio.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Now, the studio is a holistic therapy parlour. As the barista prepped his Americano, Greene asked the parlour owner if he could look inside.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Bemused that his parlour was once home to a pirate radio station, the man beckoned Greene into the snug space, the air strong with the scent of incense.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It was an old kitchen when the teenagers rented it, Greene says. \u201cIt was damp. It was mouldy and they let us in for a bargain, because we cleaned it up and made it habitable.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n![\"Big](\"https:\/\/pirate.ie\/archive\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/image-1.png\")
Big Beat Radio. Source: Brian Greene\u00a0Credit:\u00a0Brian Greene<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\nIn one corner is a door for the toilet.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
That was where their newsreader, a 15-year-old named John Walsh, would deliver the latest stories, local and national, at the top of each hour.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIt would\u2019ve been the summer of the first divorce referendum,\u201d says Greene, \u201cand while we were small, we felt we needed to give the news because that\u2019s what the big stations did.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Greene steps back outside. He pointed to the rear of the building, which faces onto the bay. There, they mounted a mast for their broadcasts, he says. \u201cWe made it ourselves out of aluminium.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Raheny library had been a vital resource for him and his brother, who taught themselves how to build transmitters and amplifiers from books and manuals, he says. \u201cHow to get the wavelength of the antenna cut right, that kinda stuff. The stuff that sticks with you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
They would copy out diagrams of circuits, D\u00f3nal Greene says. \u201cThen if we got a chance, we\u2019d go to Peats on Parnell Street and beg our parents to let us go in and buy the components to build the equipment.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
In the summer<\/strong><\/h2>\n\n\n\nThese days, Brian Greene is the manager at 92.5 Phoenix FM, Dublin 15\u2019s community radio station.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
His love of radio started early, he says, remembering a fascination from the age of four. \u201cWhen I was 14, I started hassling the local community radio station up in Coolock.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The station was North Dublin Community Radio, later known as Near FM, he says. \u201cAnd they let me on when I was 15.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
In the summer of 1985, Greene approached his friend, Peter Walsh, who was a big fan of ska. Today, Walsh is a widely reputed archivist<\/a> of the 2 Tone ska record label, Greene says.<\/p>\n\n\n\nGreene invited Walsh to join his show on North Dublin Community Radio, Walsh says. \u201cSo we started a ska show, and then a conversation just bloomed: wouldn\u2019t it be great if we did this?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
They started to plot their own pirate radio station in November 1985, Greene says. \u201cThrough the winter, every Friday night, we would have meetings with an agenda.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The gang of six pooled their record collections, says Michael Redmond, who was one of them. \u201cWe all had eclectic tastes, and it just sort of coalesced together.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n![\"Big](\"https:\/\/pirate.ie\/archive\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/image-2-1024x676.png\")
Big Beat Radio. Source: Brian Greene\u00a0Credit:\u00a0Brian Greene<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\nMost of the lads had DJ-ed in some shape or form, D\u00f3nal Greene says. \u201cWe were on the local scene doing youth club discos at aged 14, 15.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
They would journey into the city centre to buy the latest singles in the top 40 chart, says visual artist Brian Hegarty. But \u201ceverything else, we cobbled together from what we had; old stereos, mixing desks, record players\u201d.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Hegarty\u2019s older brother gave them a transmitter, says Brian Greene, one that was for FM rather than medium wave.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The plan was ambitious, D\u00f3nal Greene says, but really the reason why was simple: \u201cBrian Hegarty and I were probably in school, sitting, talking and saying \u2018What are you doing this summer?\u2019 \u2018Hopefully not what we did last summer, which was sitting on the wall, kicking our heels.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWe weren\u2019t sporty,\u201d he says. \u201cWe weren\u2019t gonna join the tennis league. We were just proactively saying, \u2018I don\u2019t want do nothing this summer.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Can anyone hear?<\/strong><\/h2>\n\n\n\nBig Beat Radio hit the air on 17 June 1986, according to<\/a> the Irish Pirate Radio Archive.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThey went out on 96.2 FM, Brian Greene says. But they couldn\u2019t be sure how far the signal was able to travel.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Ordinarily, somebody had to stay in the studio playing music, Greene says. \u201cWe needed a way to put out some continuous sound.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Fortunately, one of them owned a seven-inch single called \u201cI am the Beat\u201d by the band The Look, he says. This particular record ends on a locked groove. The song loops until the needle is lifted.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIt ends with the band just saying: \u2018beat, beat, beat \u2026\u2019,\u201d he says.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
They stuck the single on a record player and mounted their bikes, carrying a radio to see how far their signal travelled, he says. \u201cWe were going about two and a half, three miles, and that was it. The radio station was born into existence.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Each host chose a pseudonym. Michael Redmond was Tony Johnson. Brian Greene was Bobby Gibbson, says Hegarty. \u201cI went under the name Lionel Grunt, don\u2019t ask me why.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Being kids who were not sending out political messages, the threat of Garda\u00ed breaking up their pirate broadcasts was slim, Hegarty says. But they were still ready.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWe had procedures, like putting transmitters in the bag and throwing it out the window,\u201d he says. \u201cThere were protocols, and even at that age, we were aware.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Nobody ever doorstepped them. But a local employee in the Department of Communications once approached D\u00f3nal Greene on the street, Greene says.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHe said, \u2018I know what yis are up to. It\u2019s okay, but I\u2019m giving you one warning. Your transmitter, we know its origins. It was an ex-Sinn F\u00e9in radio transmitter,\u2019\u201d Greene says.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHe was able to tell us that,\u201d Greene says. \u201cWe didn\u2019t know any of that.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
On the line<\/strong><\/h2>\n\n\n\nA radio show needed to be able to take requests. But they didn\u2019t want to be shut down.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Hence the idea of using the phone box, says D\u00f3nal Greene. \u201cThe post and telegraph company were the physical arm of the Department of Communications, and they were doing the raiding.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cUsing a real phone line going into the studio was a no-no,\u201d he says. \u201cSo we had a proxy.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The box taken out recently was about 100 metres down the road from the hall. Listeners could put in song requests at the number 32-22-15, according to the<\/a> Irish Pirate Radio Archive.<\/p>\n\n\n\nFrom 9am until 9pm, the station was broadcast. Two people manned the box during each show, D\u00f3nal Greene says. \u201cIt was the six founders and maybe another 10 people around the station, who did shows themselves.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhen we called out the number, the phone would be hopping,\u201d he says.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A brief moment<\/h2>\n\n\n\n
Big Beat was on the air for seven weeks. It wrapped up on the evening of 8 August.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
There was a split amongst the six founders, Brian Greene says. \u201cWe had a musical difference. Three of us went one way, three went the other and into Temple Bar to set up record stalls.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He and Peter Walsh went on to found Centre Radio that December.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
D\u00f3nal Greene left radio until 1992, when he launched Radioactive, he says. \u201cIt launched in and around the X-case and became a political pirate. Non-pop was the musical genre.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The final Big Beat Radio show was eventually archived on the Irish Pirate Radio Archive, the station wrapping with Simple Minds\u2019 \u201cDon\u2019t You (Forget About Me)\u201d.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
In one corner is a door for the toilet.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
That was where their newsreader, a 15-year-old named John Walsh, would deliver the latest stories, local and national, at the top of each hour.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIt would\u2019ve been the summer of the first divorce referendum,\u201d says Greene, \u201cand while we were small, we felt we needed to give the news because that\u2019s what the big stations did.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Greene steps back outside. He pointed to the rear of the building, which faces onto the bay. There, they mounted a mast for their broadcasts, he says. \u201cWe made it ourselves out of aluminium.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Raheny library had been a vital resource for him and his brother, who taught themselves how to build transmitters and amplifiers from books and manuals, he says. \u201cHow to get the wavelength of the antenna cut right, that kinda stuff. The stuff that sticks with you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
They would copy out diagrams of circuits, D\u00f3nal Greene says. \u201cThen if we got a chance, we\u2019d go to Peats on Parnell Street and beg our parents to let us go in and buy the components to build the equipment.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
In the summer<\/strong><\/h2>\n\n\n\nThese days, Brian Greene is the manager at 92.5 Phoenix FM, Dublin 15\u2019s community radio station.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
His love of radio started early, he says, remembering a fascination from the age of four. \u201cWhen I was 14, I started hassling the local community radio station up in Coolock.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The station was North Dublin Community Radio, later known as Near FM, he says. \u201cAnd they let me on when I was 15.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
In the summer of 1985, Greene approached his friend, Peter Walsh, who was a big fan of ska. Today, Walsh is a widely reputed archivist<\/a> of the 2 Tone ska record label, Greene says.<\/p>\n\n\n\nGreene invited Walsh to join his show on North Dublin Community Radio, Walsh says. \u201cSo we started a ska show, and then a conversation just bloomed: wouldn\u2019t it be great if we did this?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
They started to plot their own pirate radio station in November 1985, Greene says. \u201cThrough the winter, every Friday night, we would have meetings with an agenda.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The gang of six pooled their record collections, says Michael Redmond, who was one of them. \u201cWe all had eclectic tastes, and it just sort of coalesced together.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\nBig Beat Radio. Source: Brian Greene\u00a0Credit:\u00a0Brian Greene<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\nMost of the lads had DJ-ed in some shape or form, D\u00f3nal Greene says. \u201cWe were on the local scene doing youth club discos at aged 14, 15.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
They would journey into the city centre to buy the latest singles in the top 40 chart, says visual artist Brian Hegarty. But \u201ceverything else, we cobbled together from what we had; old stereos, mixing desks, record players\u201d.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Hegarty\u2019s older brother gave them a transmitter, says Brian Greene, one that was for FM rather than medium wave.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The plan was ambitious, D\u00f3nal Greene says, but really the reason why was simple: \u201cBrian Hegarty and I were probably in school, sitting, talking and saying \u2018What are you doing this summer?\u2019 \u2018Hopefully not what we did last summer, which was sitting on the wall, kicking our heels.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWe weren\u2019t sporty,\u201d he says. \u201cWe weren\u2019t gonna join the tennis league. We were just proactively saying, \u2018I don\u2019t want do nothing this summer.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Can anyone hear?<\/strong><\/h2>\n\n\n\nBig Beat Radio hit the air on 17 June 1986, according to<\/a> the Irish Pirate Radio Archive.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThey went out on 96.2 FM, Brian Greene says. But they couldn\u2019t be sure how far the signal was able to travel.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Ordinarily, somebody had to stay in the studio playing music, Greene says. \u201cWe needed a way to put out some continuous sound.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Fortunately, one of them owned a seven-inch single called \u201cI am the Beat\u201d by the band The Look, he says. This particular record ends on a locked groove. The song loops until the needle is lifted.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIt ends with the band just saying: \u2018beat, beat, beat \u2026\u2019,\u201d he says.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
They stuck the single on a record player and mounted their bikes, carrying a radio to see how far their signal travelled, he says. \u201cWe were going about two and a half, three miles, and that was it. The radio station was born into existence.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Each host chose a pseudonym. Michael Redmond was Tony Johnson. Brian Greene was Bobby Gibbson, says Hegarty. \u201cI went under the name Lionel Grunt, don\u2019t ask me why.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Being kids who were not sending out political messages, the threat of Garda\u00ed breaking up their pirate broadcasts was slim, Hegarty says. But they were still ready.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWe had procedures, like putting transmitters in the bag and throwing it out the window,\u201d he says. \u201cThere were protocols, and even at that age, we were aware.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Nobody ever doorstepped them. But a local employee in the Department of Communications once approached D\u00f3nal Greene on the street, Greene says.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHe said, \u2018I know what yis are up to. It\u2019s okay, but I\u2019m giving you one warning. Your transmitter, we know its origins. It was an ex-Sinn F\u00e9in radio transmitter,\u2019\u201d Greene says.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHe was able to tell us that,\u201d Greene says. \u201cWe didn\u2019t know any of that.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
On the line<\/strong><\/h2>\n\n\n\nA radio show needed to be able to take requests. But they didn\u2019t want to be shut down.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Hence the idea of using the phone box, says D\u00f3nal Greene. \u201cThe post and telegraph company were the physical arm of the Department of Communications, and they were doing the raiding.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cUsing a real phone line going into the studio was a no-no,\u201d he says. \u201cSo we had a proxy.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The box taken out recently was about 100 metres down the road from the hall. Listeners could put in song requests at the number 32-22-15, according to the<\/a> Irish Pirate Radio Archive.<\/p>\n\n\n\nFrom 9am until 9pm, the station was broadcast. Two people manned the box during each show, D\u00f3nal Greene says. \u201cIt was the six founders and maybe another 10 people around the station, who did shows themselves.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhen we called out the number, the phone would be hopping,\u201d he says.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A brief moment<\/h2>\n\n\n\n
Big Beat was on the air for seven weeks. It wrapped up on the evening of 8 August.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
There was a split amongst the six founders, Brian Greene says. \u201cWe had a musical difference. Three of us went one way, three went the other and into Temple Bar to set up record stalls.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He and Peter Walsh went on to found Centre Radio that December.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
D\u00f3nal Greene left radio until 1992, when he launched Radioactive, he says. \u201cIt launched in and around the X-case and became a political pirate. Non-pop was the musical genre.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The final Big Beat Radio show was eventually archived on the Irish Pirate Radio Archive, the station wrapping with Simple Minds\u2019 \u201cDon\u2019t You (Forget About Me)\u201d.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Greene invited Walsh to join his show on North Dublin Community Radio, Walsh says. \u201cSo we started a ska show, and then a conversation just bloomed: wouldn\u2019t it be great if we did this?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
They started to plot their own pirate radio station in November 1985, Greene says. \u201cThrough the winter, every Friday night, we would have meetings with an agenda.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The gang of six pooled their record collections, says Michael Redmond, who was one of them. \u201cWe all had eclectic tastes, and it just sort of coalesced together.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Most of the lads had DJ-ed in some shape or form, D\u00f3nal Greene says. \u201cWe were on the local scene doing youth club discos at aged 14, 15.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n They would journey into the city centre to buy the latest singles in the top 40 chart, says visual artist Brian Hegarty. But \u201ceverything else, we cobbled together from what we had; old stereos, mixing desks, record players\u201d.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Hegarty\u2019s older brother gave them a transmitter, says Brian Greene, one that was for FM rather than medium wave.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The plan was ambitious, D\u00f3nal Greene says, but really the reason why was simple: \u201cBrian Hegarty and I were probably in school, sitting, talking and saying \u2018What are you doing this summer?\u2019 \u2018Hopefully not what we did last summer, which was sitting on the wall, kicking our heels.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWe weren\u2019t sporty,\u201d he says. \u201cWe weren\u2019t gonna join the tennis league. We were just proactively saying, \u2018I don\u2019t want do nothing this summer.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Big Beat Radio hit the air on 17 June 1986, according to<\/a> the Irish Pirate Radio Archive.<\/p>\n\n\n\n They went out on 96.2 FM, Brian Greene says. But they couldn\u2019t be sure how far the signal was able to travel.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Ordinarily, somebody had to stay in the studio playing music, Greene says. \u201cWe needed a way to put out some continuous sound.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Fortunately, one of them owned a seven-inch single called \u201cI am the Beat\u201d by the band The Look, he says. This particular record ends on a locked groove. The song loops until the needle is lifted.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cIt ends with the band just saying: \u2018beat, beat, beat \u2026\u2019,\u201d he says.<\/p>\n\n\n\n They stuck the single on a record player and mounted their bikes, carrying a radio to see how far their signal travelled, he says. \u201cWe were going about two and a half, three miles, and that was it. The radio station was born into existence.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Each host chose a pseudonym. Michael Redmond was Tony Johnson. Brian Greene was Bobby Gibbson, says Hegarty. \u201cI went under the name Lionel Grunt, don\u2019t ask me why.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Being kids who were not sending out political messages, the threat of Garda\u00ed breaking up their pirate broadcasts was slim, Hegarty says. But they were still ready.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWe had procedures, like putting transmitters in the bag and throwing it out the window,\u201d he says. \u201cThere were protocols, and even at that age, we were aware.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Nobody ever doorstepped them. But a local employee in the Department of Communications once approached D\u00f3nal Greene on the street, Greene says.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cHe said, \u2018I know what yis are up to. It\u2019s okay, but I\u2019m giving you one warning. Your transmitter, we know its origins. It was an ex-Sinn F\u00e9in radio transmitter,\u2019\u201d Greene says.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cHe was able to tell us that,\u201d Greene says. \u201cWe didn\u2019t know any of that.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n A radio show needed to be able to take requests. But they didn\u2019t want to be shut down.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Hence the idea of using the phone box, says D\u00f3nal Greene. \u201cThe post and telegraph company were the physical arm of the Department of Communications, and they were doing the raiding.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cUsing a real phone line going into the studio was a no-no,\u201d he says. \u201cSo we had a proxy.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n The box taken out recently was about 100 metres down the road from the hall. Listeners could put in song requests at the number 32-22-15, according to the<\/a> Irish Pirate Radio Archive.<\/p>\n\n\n\n From 9am until 9pm, the station was broadcast. Two people manned the box during each show, D\u00f3nal Greene says. \u201cIt was the six founders and maybe another 10 people around the station, who did shows themselves.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWhen we called out the number, the phone would be hopping,\u201d he says.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Big Beat was on the air for seven weeks. It wrapped up on the evening of 8 August.<\/p>\n\n\n\n There was a split amongst the six founders, Brian Greene says. \u201cWe had a musical difference. Three of us went one way, three went the other and into Temple Bar to set up record stalls.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n He and Peter Walsh went on to found Centre Radio that December.<\/p>\n\n\n\n D\u00f3nal Greene left radio until 1992, when he launched Radioactive, he says. \u201cIt launched in and around the X-case and became a political pirate. Non-pop was the musical genre.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n The final Big Beat Radio show was eventually archived on the Irish Pirate Radio Archive, the station wrapping with Simple Minds\u2019 \u201cDon\u2019t You (Forget About Me)\u201d.<\/p>\n\n\n\nCan anyone hear?<\/strong><\/h2>\n\n\n\n
On the line<\/strong><\/h2>\n\n\n\n
A brief moment<\/h2>\n\n\n\n