death

Saving a Cemetery

Cathcart Cemetery, death

Okay, so it’s been far too long, I wish I could say I’ve been doing anything other than living through a global pandemic (the crisis I was born for! Sitting in the house, watching box sets and eating my body weight in chocolate – perfect. Now if it’d involved fast zombies or any sort of survival skills, then I’d be in real trouble.

So this is what I’ve been doing with my pandemic time. Trying to save a cemetery. Well, not save exactly, more trying to make sure it doesn’t fall down as much or as quickly.

So it started about a year ago (ages in the grand scheme of how 2020 is going) when Lorn and I went on a tour of Cathcart Cemetery. Despite it only being along the road I’d never really visited before.

It’s hard to describe. Because it’s a garden cemetery (an emerging research interest of mine – but more of that to come), you could say it is overgrown, and you’d be wrong. Wild. It’s wild and untamed – not so great when you’re a cemetery with headstones (but more on that). A mature woodland is I believe what’s it’s called. There’s lots of self-seeding trees (I can’t wait for the archives to open I want to hunt down the original planting scheme). Ivy everywhere. – much to the detriment of the stones. And a lot of broken and fallen headstones – some of that is natural (blame it on the ivy); some of it was done by the Cooncil to preempt the stones falling and a little was done deliberately (more on that to come too) – okay, the Cemetery is my new obsession.

Okay, so a year or so ago, go along to a tour, hosted by Roger Guthrie from the Alexander Thomson Society – ‘raconteur’ in the best Glasgow style. When he decides to write his book at the machinations of the Glasgow City Council, he’s got a best seller on this hands. Anyway, guy stands up at the end, says they’re trying to start a Friends Group up because the cemetery is in a bit a state and who wants to join him. Emails were exchanged.

Cue a year later and here’s a potted history of where we are:

  • I’m now co-chair of the group (our chair/secretary/whatever sadly had to step back for a bit.
  • I’ve had a couple of successful meetings with East Renfrewshire Cooncil- and now we’re part way through a cemetery inspection. What it’s going to be like for Cooncils post-Covid is anyone’s guess, but I bet cemeteries won’t be on the top of their list.
  • We set up a bank and paypal account with some cooncil funding
  • I ran, in partnership with the Hampden Collection, a semi-successful evening about the pioneering footballers who are buried there as part of the To Absent Friends Festival
  • I know far too much about the history of football
  • We found a suffragette! And she’s a cracker. One of the few women who actually died as a result of her activism. She’s magnificent.
  • We’ve had a lot of publicity surrounding the book ‘A Tomb with a View’ written by local resident and award winning journalist Peter Ross. He lives up the road from the Cemetery the publicity has been great for us and as a result
  • I was interviewed by BBC Scotland Radio Good Morning Scotland (Ohhh get her). Nan and I had a lovely time with Pauline McLean and other than sounding like Susan Calman and ‘sounding very Scottish’ I thought it went well.
  • We officially became part of the Scottish Civic Trust’s My Place mentoring scheme. I met with their man, Jamie during lockdown. None of us are heritage people (a retired quantity surveyor, an IT person, a railway engineer, another awarding winning journalist and me) I can’t wait to get that started (bloody covid)
  • Jonathan did a very successful online tour of the place. We’re hoping to do it again sometime soon.
  • On Hallowe’n we’re running another talk on Victorian death traditions with a young anatomist who got in touch after hearing about Henria. We’ve been selling tickets for this one – nearly £200 – that’ll do
  • I put in my first funding application in today. I think I missed the deadline for October, so I’ll probably have to wait until March/April 2021 before I hear anything! It’s to get the tours started up again.
  • Still, we’re building a website and someone from the Daily Record wants to do a piece on that – taphophiles eh?

So that’s a potted history of where I’m at at the moment. I feel this blog has a new purpose – to document this process. Still chasing a PhD, I wonder if this could be my research topic – saving a Cemetery.

Funeral music

death

The hardest thing about planning Dennis’ funeral was deciding the music.  I really wanted the music to reflect him who he was.  In a funny way, I wanted the music to be the last thing he heard.  Special music that he enjoyed, but that also said something to us left behind mourning.

I tortured myself those first few days about the music.  I was mindful of my father’s funeral where we processed down the aisle of the funeral parlour to the too strange sound of Vangelis’ Chariots of Fire.  The urge to mime running in slow motion to our seats was really too much to bear.  I have no idea whether that was my father’s favourite piece of music.  Or if it said anything about how he lived his life, but it sure raised a smile on what was a tense day.

For Dennis, it had to be right.  Inspiration still hadn’t struck as I met the celebrant to talk over the arrangements.  As he was asking questions about what kind of man Dennis was, what he liked, the music changed and slowly a tune penetrated our conversation – Fleetwood Mac’s The Chain.  What are the chances?  Absolutely perfect for our entrance, despite it being a bitter tale of divorce which was nothing like our equally complex relationship.  See, Dennis was a huge F1 fan and everybody knew it.  Monaco was his favourite – loved standing on the hairpin bend.  Equally importantly, the song slowly builds from acoustic to the heavy bass of the F1 tune. Enough time to be sat down and listening to the bit that was important to Dennis, while clicking our fingers.

For his exit, Pink Floyd’s Wish You Were Here.  And I did.  Dennis loved this song and Pink Floyd.  It always, always made him cry.  It was him; he was living Syd Barrett’s life.  He was intelligent enough to understand his wasted potential and how his life was going to end short, although I know not unfulfilled, in its own way.  Listening to the two songs now, it’s this one that really gets me.  The middle bit brings up the image of Dennis crying and that’s too still hard to bear.

When I go, I don’t want who ever’s left to have to struggle with that bit of the funeral.  Especially as I listen to a wide range of music.  So in an occasional series, I’m going to post some possible contenders.  My funeral playlist, if you will.  Might get them available to my audience (funeral as performance?) to enjoy later.  It’s in no particular order (cos [the] eels would be right up there, more later) but in the order shuffle play brings them to me.

First up, Sermonette by Curtis Mayfield and the Impressions.  I could find a video for that version, but this version by Della Resse is a cracker too.  Just love that rhythm and swing. And that message – it’s a sermon you’ll never forget.