The stone was not marked on the Ordnance Survey six-inch maps of either 1842 or 1904, meaning it escaped official cartographic notice across more than a century of surveying. Then, around 1980, it was physically removed when the land was developed for housing.

Before it disappeared, the stone was recorded by Hartnett in 1939. His description captures a substantial, rough-hewn presence: an irregular sandstone block with a wedge-shaped top, standing six feet tall and measuring roughly 31 inches by 20 inches at the base. Standing stones, which are prehistoric upright monoliths erected for purposes that remain largely a matter of debate, range enormously in size and finish across Ireland. This one was on the larger side but plainly unworked, shaped by nature rather than a mason's hand. Sandstone, softer and more variable than the granite or limestone used elsewhere, gives such stones an organic, almost geological quality. Whether it marked a boundary, a burial, an astronomical alignment, or something else entirely, Hartnett's measurements are now all that remains of it.

There is nothing to see at the site today. The coordinates point to a residential street, and no surface trace of the stone survives. Its interest lies entirely in its absence, and in what that absence says about how quickly the physical evidence of prehistory can be erased, not always through neglect but through the ordinary pressures of development.