Goodnight And God Bless George

The day after we returned from our holiday in Wales an old friend phoned…

“Have you seen facebook?”

“No, the computer’s away being serviced.”

“George passed away the day after you left.”

George Welch became Phil’s musical partner in The Cheap Sunglasses Serenaders at about the same time as Phil and I became a couple.  I would go down to the Sunday evening folk session in The Ship, Byker, and there they would be working out songs and gags.

George had the sweetest voice for folksongs, but he could also roughen it up for rock, ragtime or his famous Byker & Western and Ouseburn Delta Blues.  He delighted in parodies; famous titles include The Ballad of Below, Stan of Jesmond Dene, TheAuctioneer’s Song, The Bonny Lass of Byker, Knock Knock Knocking on Beavan’s Door and of course Flooers In The Rain.  Some of the lyrics would get him cancelled these days, but George had a childish innocence combined with an impish mischievousness.

Amongst other things he did extra work (supporting artiste) on Supergran and Spender.  He would acquire unwanted props, one of which was a polystyrene boulder. 

One Sunday evening he burst into The Ship with “Eee Phil, come and see what’s come off Byker Bridge onto your car!”  

Phil was horrified.   

Until he touched it and it moved and he didn’t know whether to laugh or be furious.

Another evening Mr Shipskitchen went to the gents leaving his sitar leaning against the table.  George leant forward and moved the bridge about an eighth of an inch.  And managed to keep a straight face whilst Shipskitchen tried to work out why his instrument was suddenly out of tune.

In the Broken Doll on a Sunday lunchtime he would sing and strip whilst Phil played The Kinks “Lazing on a sunny afternoon”.  To be more accurate he would remove his jacket, shirt and trousers and put on Bermuda shorts, a string vest and a knotted handkerchief.

Occasionally a child would wander in to a lunchtime gig, George would send them out with “Hey kid, go and tell your mam she wants you.”

Naturally George was best man at our wedding

 

Less than two years later I had to do one of the most awful things in my life; be there when Phil told George that his cancer was terminal.   

I felt as if we’d been kicking puppy.

The day after Phil died George came over.

“I drove past the end of your road last night and saw the cars but if nobody told me then to me he wasn’t dead yet.”

For the next few months I accompanied George to the gigs he would have done with Phil.  I didn’t sing or anything, he just needed my support.

Phil had requested his ashes be scattered on the Roman road that runs along the hill behind home in Wales.  The undertaker from the Co-op brought them to the house the weekend before Christmas.

George came to collect me for a gig, and I pointed the box of ashes out to him.

He picked the box up gently and cradled it like a baby.

“Hello marra” he said in the gentlest voice, then a few moments later put the ashes back down on the hearth with a “Goodbye mate.”

🪕🪕🪕 

There may be more memories of George over the next little while. 

🎸🎸🎸

George was poorly for many years before his passing.  His daughter Shona has set up a Just Giving page in his memory.  If George, or Phil, or the Cheap Sunglasses Serenaders have ever made you laugh or smile perhaps you might consider making a donation to the Newcastle Hospitals Charity.

You can listen to The Cheap Sunglasses on YouTube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cjl_X3VkHLw