Chapter X — The Spirit of Collection Day

Before the cutbacks of 2013, Collection Day at Special Olympics Ireland was not just a fundraiser — it was a tradition, almost a celebration.

At Park House, the day began long before volunteers hit the streets. Inside those walls, the atmosphere buzzed. Volunteers, staff, and regional coordinators dropped in, the place filling with chatter, laughter, and the smell of tea. Buckets and bibs were piled high, waiting to be claimed. The organisation wasn’t flawless — it was chaotic at times — but it was real, and it worked.

Rita McArdle often stood at the centre of it all, armed with her phone and a handwritten list. If a town had no volunteers, she’d find them. If someone dropped out, she’d ring another at the last minute. She had a way of persuading people to help, not out of duty, but out of belief in what the day stood for.

The system was simple: buckets went out from Park House, into the hands of supervisors, then to volunteers. Afterward, they came back — not always neatly or on time. Some were filled to the brim, others carried only a few coins. Now and then, a note was tucked inside — “Sorry I couldn’t do more, but I tried.” It was messy, but it was built on trust, and trust was enough.

On the streets, you could see that trust in action. Volunteers in every county, standing outside shops, at busy junctions, in small towns where everyone knew everyone. Some stayed all day, others just an hour, but all of them were part of something larger. It wasn’t just about the money collected — it was about the faces, the conversations, the sense of belonging.

Then came 2013.

The word was “efficiency.” Consultants were brought in, outside contractors took over, and suddenly the heart of Collection Day was replaced with a system that looked good on paper but lacked the human touch. Park House was no longer the lively hub it had been. The phones stopped ringing. The handwritten lists disappeared. Instead, a professionalised system took shape — polished, but distant.

Buckets were still out on the streets, but something was missing. The laughter in Park House, the last-minute scrambles, the feeling that everyone was part of one big effort — all of it faded. Collection Day became a transaction instead of a tradition.

For those of us who remembered what it had been, the change was hard to accept. It wasn’t that the new way was “wrong” — but it had lost its spirit. The kind of spirit you can’t measure in balance sheets or consultant reports.

Because back then, before the cutbacks, Collection Day wasn’t just about coins in a bucket. It was about community. And that’s what made it special.

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