I only met Garech Browne, or de Brún, once — at our house in Brussels, when I was about 14. He came for lunch with a friend of my parents. I didn’t pay much attention, until someone told me he was “a Guinness”. That was the first time I realised that Guinness wasn’t just a drink and a series of posters featuring seals and elephants — that Guinness was a name, and Guinnesses were people.
This story continues at ‘Irish Independent’