The Last of the Red Hot Rebels

“The end of art is peace.”
― Seamus Heaney

On this day April 19th, in 2014, Mary Evelyn Mullooly (nee McCann) was born into eternal life. May she rest in peace. And may she end in art. Upending the intent of the great Irish poet, Seamus Heaney, two of Mary’s descendents were artistically inspired to share the impact that she had on them and on the world.

To Let and Essence Live (Sam Mullooly, 2019) is an incredible CD that was dedicated to the life of Dee Dee, the affectionate nickname she received as a child.

The description on Sam Mullooly’s CD best illustrates Dee Dee’s impact on her progeny.

After getting my feet wet in the modern singer/songwriter world right out of college, I had the urge to continue with that craft and get better. As early as February 2018, I began zeroing in on ideas for a new, more serious work in this realm. Just as many musicians do, I looked inward to personal experience for inspiration. My thoughts turned toward my grandmother Dee Dee, a significant person in my childhood, whose death was also my first real experience with losing a loved one. Musically, I had many influences in my writing that ranged from Robert Schumann to The Grateful Dead to Sufjan Stevens. Instead of trying to find a specific sound, I wanted a variety of vastly different moods and atmospheres, which hopefully gives the work a more colorful, surprising edge to it. I recorded the album in my makeshift closet studio during my free time from August – December 2018, then spent the next month fine-tuning everything during the mixing and mastering process. The result is seven songs in seven different styles that are loosely tied together in a story of dealing with our mortality.

 To Let an Essence Live, (Sam Mullooly, 2019) all rights reserved

Sam Mullooly’s CD link invites you to listen to the album, in the hope you will consider purchasing it. All of the songs are fantastic but the 5th, “Red Hot Rebel” is for me the most powerful by far. This song brings me to tears every time I play it. Part elegy, part allegory, it masterfully touches the essence of life and death with the poignant, bittersweet prose that typify much of the poetry of the Irish diaspora. The song closes with the following haunting lines:

On the wings of an eagle she flew away

We buried the shell on my first sad day

With love, all of our lives were touched

Like she said, we’ll never know how much

Sent from above to defeat the devil

She truly was the last red hot rebel

“Red Hot Rebel” from To Let an Essence Live, (Sam Mullooly, 2019) all rights reserved

Sam’s primary inspiration was Dee Dee, but the title of this song was inspired by another poem, written by Dee Dee’s son, Michael McCann Mullooly and first performed at Dee Dee’s funeral as part of her eulogy in 2004. It is reproduced with permission here:

Last of the Red Hot Rebels
By Michael McCann Mullooly
(In memoria of Mary Evelyn Mullooly)
April 23, 2004

Always one to break the rules,
Never one to suffer fools
Placed in heaven are her jewels,
The Last of the Red Hot Rebels.

Teaching wisdom through wild ways,
Fun and laughter filled her days,
To the Lord she gave the praise,
The Last of the Red Hot Rebels.

A red hot zest, a love for life,
A knack for solving someone’s strife,
An Irish Catholic doctor’s wife,
The Last of the Red Hot Rebels.

She left you feeling loved, worthwhile,
Completely loved, wearing a smile,
She was a woman without guile,
The Last of the Red Hot Rebels.

Smart as a fox, gentle as a dove,
Never one to give a shove,
A loving touch in a velvet glove,
The Last of the Red Hot Rebels.

She grew up as one of the boys.
A band of brothers she enjoys.
She’ll tell you so with ceaseless noise.
The Last of the Red Hot Rebels.

She had a daughter and five sons.
She filled us full of floating buns.
Rejected by a house of nuns,
The Last of the Red Hot Rebels.

Not a daughter of the house,
Never one to wear a blouse,
More a lion than a mouse,
The Last of the Red Hot Rebels.

Scoffing at the orthodox.
Gravitating to what shocks.
I never saw her darning socks.
The Last of the Red Hot Rebels.

Intelligent and full of wit,
In tune with those things Jesuit,
She had a mind that would not quit,
The Last of the Red Hot Rebels.

Fear not for her ultimate fate.
She’s in heaven. They could not wait.
She was probably running late.
The Last of the Red Hot Rebels.

Her impact hit us like a bomb,
Searing souls like me and Tom.
A gift from God, that was our mom,
The Last of the Red Hot Rebels.