Harry Crosbie likes to tell a story. It is a story of a different time, well before Crosbie was hanging around with rock stars and organising gala events for royal visits. It is the story of the day it all started.
It's 1988 and Crosbie, a young haulier whose ambition outstretches his bank balance, has just spent IR£800,000 buying an old, ramshackle train warehouse on Dublin's docklands, right where the Liffey collides with the Irish...
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