On Christmas Eve 2024 the members of Nitten Folk Club received the devastating news that Alison Gilroy, one of the clubs founding members, had died after a long struggle with Motor Neuron Disease (MND). She had requested a direct cremation as she ‘didnae want any fuss’, which was typical of this extraordinary woman. Consequently there was no funeral service; no customary gathering of friends and relatives and no opportunity to reminisce and recall memories of time spent in her company.
We fully respected her wishes but we simply could not let her death pass without some kind of celebration of her life. We therefore decided to commemorate her life at one of our regular ‘Singaround’ evenings and to invite members of her family to join us to listen to some of her favourite poems, sing along to some of her favourite songs and listen to the wealth of stories she left behind in peoples’ memories.
The event took place on 30th January in, of course, The Dean Tavern, where the main hall was crammed with old friends & new: family, including her daughter Sharon, her grandsons Matthew and Sam (accompanied by his girlfriend Siobhan), and Alison’s long-time companion Seph, who had been a part of her life for over forty years. Also present was her dear friend Elizabeth, also a loyal club member.
Before the entertainment began ‘proper’ Jim Weatherston delivered a very moving eulogy – something that Alison would probably have baulked at, but it had to be done. Here’s what he had to say about his deeply loved and cherished ‘auld pal’.
“I joined this folk club in August 1997 and, right from the start, Alison Gilroy was a constant presence. She always challenged herself with her songs. How often did we hear, “I’ve never sung this song in my life before!” But on she’d go with gusto, not always getting the tune right but she couldn’t be faulted for her enthusiasm.
I lost count of the number of guest artistes who asked about the wee woman bobbing about in the middle of the room. It was one of those guests who gave Alison the nickname “The Duracell Bunny”. Alison just couldn’t help herself, the music seemed to get right into her heart.
When the club nights moved into this, the big room, unbeknown to many of us, Alison regularly came down early and singlehandedly set up the tables. The wee woman who looked as if a strong gust of wind would blow her over was possessed of amazing strength.
That strength wasn’t just of the physical kind. When she started to find it difficult to walk she still turned up week after week. “It’s jist auld age”. She’d say. When she finally received a definitive diagnosis she became all the more determined to attend the club for as long as she could. All the members were so delighted that she managed to persuade her carers to let her be the guest of honour at our charity concert last October, where we raised money for MND Scotland in her honour. Those of us there will always remember her radiant smile at the thought that she was receiving a standing ovation. That strength and great heart could only carry her so far and, very sadly, Alison died on Christmas Eve last year.
Typically, Alison didn’t want any fuss but the club couldn’t do other than mark her passing with a musical celebration. Alison was always proud of Nitten Folk Club. More to the point, Nitten Folk club was more than proud to have Alison as one of its founder members”.
Heartfelt words indeed, and sentiments shared by everyone present. As the microphone was passed around they all had a story to tell of Alison’s friendliness, generosity and kindness; her incredible energy, stamina and strength; her infuriating single mindedness and propensity to change key and time signature mid-song (much to the chagrin of any instrumentalist who attempted to accompany her). She sang songs in her own inimitable way – nobody could copy that (assuming they ever wanted to). Curiously, when she sang a Robert Burns song her pitch and timing were perfect; a consequence of her father’s great love for the Bard, which he instilled in all of his children – all nine of them. They had big families in those days. Above all it was her zest for living and her love and respect for her family and friends that will be her lasting legacy.
After all the folk songs, show tunes, parodies of popular songs, poetry and anecdotes, her long-time companion Seph delivered a moving tribute to his ‘Wee Sparrow’. He spoke of holidays in foreign lands, adventures, laughter and tears and how much he, and all of her family, will miss this ‘Marvellous Wee Wummin’.
We’ll all miss her, Seph. She was one of a kind and the world will seem a little bit colder, and a little less cheery, without her.
The Committee.