Wilderness

I’m not going to dwell too much on the years where George was ill, it’s too emotional.  I had heard that he had had some sort of stroke and that it had caused some neurological damage and affected his balance. When I spoke to him a while afterwards, he said that it had affected the way he heard music and it “just didn’t sound right”.  He sounded awful subdued, and this was heartbreaking to hear. Music was his life and to have that taken away was the worst thing that could happen. He later said that he felt it was coming back, and his neurologist had told him that another part of the brain may be stepping in to compensate.

The next I heard was that there had been a fire at his house and that he was in intensive care, in a coma and very badly burned. A neighbour,  Anthony McCann, went into to the house and pulled him out undoubtedly saving his life. This man is the very definition of a hero.

It was touch and go for a while, and only close family were allowed in to see him even though there was a queue of folk wanting to go and wish him well. After things had improved and he was out of danger, Jon Fleming and I went to see him. After the initial shock of seeing him in a high dependency room, there were still glimpses of the old George.  At one point he looked around and said  “Do you like what I’ve done with the place?”

The staff must have loved him.

Bad news on the doorstep.

 I had just finished my backshift at midnight as usual, checked my mobile to find a text from Tam. ‘Can you phone me’.  I had a half an idea what it was about,  but was still devastated to hear that my old buddy had passed away.  When I got home, Facebook was starting to become a bit of a rumour mill although only a few knew for sure. Tam had some family issues to contend with so I offered to look after the BGB page. Typing up the news was one of the toughest things I had ever done, but in a way it helped.  Over the next few days and weeks, the page became a cross between a memorial and a support group.

           

There were also the beginnings of some press interest, so I again offered to speak to them as Carolynn and Natasha were taken up with organising things not to mention the shock of it all. I spoke to the local Clydebank press, Evening Times, Glasgow Herald, The Scotsman and Classic Rock Blues. They all published wonderful pieces. It was an emotional but therapeutic experience.

Saying Goodbye

I’ve never been at a better attended funeral. Literally standing room only.

Nor have I ever heard a minister include the words “Napalm Blues” in a eulogy.

Can’t say I’ve ever experienced such a spontaneous round of applause either.

It was unique.

The ‘aftershow’ was full of old faces. The Edinburgh team, Blue Angels and Pictish Delegations were there in force as were Jimmy Dewar’s girls, along with band mates from both centuries.

A fitting farewell, but there was more to come.

To be continued.