ILIR founder and chairman NIALL O’DOWD recounts some tense but ultimately hugely rewarding moments in the lead-up to the big political rally.

THE crisis point came a few minutes before Senators Schumer, Clinton, McCain and Kennedy were set to arrive

Our greatest fear at ILIR was that the Holiday Inn hotel where were based was turning into one big fire hazard. There were 2,000 or so people packed into a space meant for roughly 600.

The hallways were thronged; the ILIR delegates were also crowding the lobby and the outside of the hotel. Everywhere you looked there were white t-shirts with “Legalizetheirish.org” letters in bright green.

The hotel has every reason to enforce their fire codes. As someone noticed the fire department was actually right next door. Holiday Inn staffers had been very understanding to deal with, but the numbers kept piling in.

We had told our senior people under no circumstances to identify anyone in charge, just so it would make it difficult for the folks at the Holiday Inn to remonstrate with us.

The hotel had been very understanding to that point. Now, however, a heavy-set man with an earpiece strode into the room and took one look at the crowds jammed into every available inch.

“Who’s in charge?” he asked Sean McPhail, the photographer who had come down from New York with us.

Sean had been well briefed. “Frank Maguire,” he said.

“Where is he?” said the beefy security man.

“Over there,” Sean said, pointing vaguely to the thousand or so people jammed all over the room.

The security man took off in search of someone called Frank Maguire. He’s probably still looking.

We all breathed a great sigh of relief. There was no Frank Maguire, of course.

And so the session carried on. First up was Senator John McCain, his silver hair standing out in the throng as he made his way to the stage.

“I’m late,” he whispered. “Sorry about that.”

I said I’d forgive him given that he may well be the next president of the United States. He smiled.

Senator McCain sat there listening intently as ILIR President Grant Lally introduced him. McCain listens, rare enough for a politician and he gauges a crowd carefully. When he stood up he got such a reception that he said to much laughter, “It would make a man think of running for president.”

He also gave a fatherly speech to a group of political newcomers. He said that what they were doing was the very essence of democracy, no lobbyists, no special agendas, just a grassroots group determined to come to Capitol Hill and have their case heard.

The response to McCain’s speech was ear splitting. He told a staffer afterwards that he felt like a rock star. Several of his staff members requested T-shirts the following day. Our ILIR delegates were having a big effect.

Between McCain and Senator Hillary Clinton, poor Joe Crowley got to speak. The Queens congressman never got a chance.

Six foot four and hulking and handsome, he tried to keep it serious but when the wolf whistles broke out and the room began demanding he wear an ILIR t-shirt, he played it for all it was worth.

A wonderful singer, he was prevailed upon to sing a verse of a Thomas Moore air. Midway through his speech the crowd stirred, and Senator Clinton walked into the room.

After Crowley finished the most famous woman (person?) in the world got the kind of ovation only Bono would receive. The crowd began to chant “Ole, Ole” and it went on for several minutes.

“I surrender,” Hillary told the crowd, laughing and they cheered and cheered again. Her speech was serious, though, and very well thought out.

For the first time she came out in favor of earned citizenship for the undocumented, a story that was flashed around the country by the Associated Press reporter present. The roof almost came off the ballroom when she made the commitment.

Every time I see Senator Clinton I think how much more relaxed she has become. As first lady she could be stiff and formal, but as senator from New York she has developed a warmth and easy style that will stand her well in the 2008 race. She brought down the house.

Just as she was finishing the greatest orator in America made his appearance. Senator Ted Kennedy is the lion in winter, still with the instincts of the greatest political family America has every produced.

On stage he was breathing fire. Of course, he said, the Irish should be legalized, and every other illegal too.

He recalled his brother John’s trip to Ireland as president in 1963. He recalled his own role in the peace process. He recalled some of the famous names of the political dynasty he hails from.

The crowd, many of them too young to even remember John F. Kennedy’s name, cheered to the rafters.

Earlier Senator Chuck Schumer had played the crowd like a violin, noting that he and Congressman Jim Walsh and former Congressman Bruce Morrison were all in the room and all had delivered visas for the Irish.

Now, Schumer stated, it could be done again. Given the fervor of the crowd it certainly seemed a possibility.

IT had all been so different at 6 a.m. that morning as the ILIR crew gathered in a seedy hotel west of the Capitol.

I had spent a very uncomfortable night. The hotel room felt like it was perched over the Grand Central Expressway, the traffic was so loud. Then there was the little matter of 2,500 people hurtling through the night all bound for Washington.

When the idea of a lobby day was first put forward we had the wonderful notion that a few hundred might show up, which we thought would be a massive number. We had passed those numbers the day of the announcement of the lobby day.

ILIR is a phenomenon not least because it is run by a handful of people and one full time staffer, Kelly Fincham, who deserves the gold medal when awards are handed out for her effort.

Now, however, the task of marshalling so many people on the largest Irish lobby day in history was a daunting one. Due to incredible work by the all-volunteer staff in the Bronx, Queens, Boston, Philidelphia and elsewhere, everything had been set up in precision mode, but as any general will tell you the best plans rarely survive contact with reality.

Now it was 7 a.m. and reality was pouring in the door of the Holiday Inn from all over the East Coast. The first batch was from Boston. Some had driven through the night, others had flown in.

Soon they were joined by a contingent from Connecticut and soon the New York buses, 20 in all, began streaming in.

It was a pleasing crowd, many older people standing with their young undocumented Irish brethren. What struck me most was how well ordered everything was.

Micheal Corridan, who had taken the brunt of most of the actual organizing of the buses into units, was playing a blinder, seemingly everywhere at once, organizing, cajoling, making the trains run on time.

Thankfully there we no drunks or idiots stumbling off the buses. New York was fine and Hughie and Jimmy from Boston clearly had their huge contingent of over 1,000 well under control with incredible marshalling.

Connecticut came in on time. Twenty people all from San Francisco who had flown all night were next. They got a great reception.

Ohio checked in, so did Texas, New Jersey, Pennsylvania and other states. For the first time in days I stopped worrying.

Soon after it was time for the photo-op on Capitol Hill. The night before a few of us had done a review on where the photo op should take place.

It was a beautiful scene, the Capitol dome alight in the background, a clear as crystal night and the sense of standing on America’s most hallowed ground. The Irish would be here tomorrow as so many groups had come before, chasing their American dream.

I READ the memoirs of some senator once, who told how during even the worst days of World War II he would walk out every night to gaze on the dome to draw strength from it as a great symbol of America. He was right.

Now a vast procession, all wearing their “Legalize the Irish” t-shirts, were on their way to a spot close to that dome. Again I feared confusion and chaos. I could not have been more wrong.

Though some had to stand for an hour in the cold morning air waiting for the rest to arrive there was hardly a protest. I think everyone sensed the importance of the day.

Just as the photo was about to take place a police officer approached the group. Here it comes, I thought, trouble. We needed a permit, I bet.

The cop, a member of the Washington Capitol police, could not have been nicer. Were we planning a demonstration? No.

Did we intend to picket anywhere? No.

“Very well then, on your way,” he said with a smile. Whew.

Then it was on to the lobbying. At this point I let the thousands stream off in the distance and went back to the hotel to prepare for the afternoon rally.

It was a poorly kept secret that not everyone was going to get into the ballroom or even the overflow room we had added.

What could we do? Every time we had a decision to make we had one motto — keep it simple! So it would be first come first served.

Soon our lobbyists began trickling back from the Hill. The California delegation figured out right away that they should move into the ballroom in order to ensure they would be present for everything.

They deserved it. They had come the furthest and they had taken it on themselves to ensure that thousands of placards bearing “Irish Love McCain,” “Irish Love Clinton,” “ Irish Love Kennedy,” had been printed the previous night. They would all come in very useful.

At around one o’clock the hotel was jammed to the gills. All we needed now were the politicians. Like bees to the honey they came in swarms.

Congressman Jim Walsh head of Friends of Ireland was first. Walsh has become the new Peter King, the man who is the most concerned on Capitol Hill on Irish issues.

He gave a splendid speech, not just playing to the crowd but also warning that it was a long and difficult fight ahead but that the Irish would win out. His message resonated with all present.

A slew of congressmen and Bruce Morrison of Morrison visa fame followed. The senators seemed to arrive like clockwork, all beaming at the astounding reception they got.

Less than three months ago I had been worried when the mayor of Yonkers was locked out of our meeting in the Bronx. Now we were hosting the two leading candidates for president in 2008 and some of the leading politicians in America. ILIR had come a long way.