A couple of nights ago I went to a memorial event for a man who’d recently died. David Paterson was 86 and to be honest I was astounded to hear that, as although he got around on a scooter, he had the brains and activity levels of a sixty-year-old. David was involved in just about everything; an atheist priest who had his church turned into a community centre; a fearless advocate of the poor and dispossessed, an occasionally bull-headed and sometimes annoying person who was as much a feature of Loughborough as the Sock Man or the Carillon.
I first met David at Friday Room, a progressive discussion group which included lefties, centrists and Greens and which once hosted a One-Nation Tory. But David was everywhere; he attended services at All Saints and Quaker Meetings, he ran the Peace Group and sat on the Council of Faiths. His funeral was a brilliant service which included readings from the Koran and the Gita as well as ‘The Amber Spyglass’ – and a cardboard coffin! – but the memorial was as remarkable in its way as it included some astonishing anecdotes about his life.
My favourite was the story of his ancient car which, in the 70’s, was loaned out to all and sundry. It was a total heap with one missing window and when the ignition fell out it had to be started with a toothbrush. (David had a very cavalier approach to possessions and always left his flat unlocked so people could go in and pick up campaign materials.) Then there was the time he took a group of people to Gujarat in India and managed to blag his way into the Gujarati political assembly. They were expecting another Englishman and thought he was that man, so he was waved through and when he found himself face to face with the Governor, he said straight away, ‘Why is your government so corrupt?’ The interview was terminated abruptly.
In between these stories we had music and poetry, the music provided by Steve on guitar, and Jan and Joss on violin and recorder respectively. I provided the poems, which were chosen to reflect David’s preoccupations: ‘Spike’ about homelessness, ‘Poet Tree’ about the Peace Group’s Wishing Tree and ‘Song of David’, which I’d written specially for the occasion and which I reproduce below.
Song of David
for David Paterson’s Memorial, 31st July 2019
I can’t believe you’re gone
when once a week or so
I’d glimpse you in the throng
a pause, a brief hello
your trademark woolly hat
scooting across the flat
your peace work marathon:
It seemed a sudden parting
one moment here, then gone
a fall, infection starting
but you’ll keep on keeping on
we’re sure it can’t be long
before you’re back on song
the breaking news: you’re gone
hard to reflect upon
We met at Friday Room
and all around the town
criss-crossing in a zoom
a person of renown
a Marmite man for some,
but we take you as you come
your opinions never dithering
more differed from than differing
At church we sit in mourning
a multi-faith acrostic
from atheist to Mormon
from Muslim to agnostic
a wake with no omissions
readings from all traditions
from Christian ash to Lyra’s Dust
we roll you home because we must.
Let’s pause here for a second
and just for fun, imagine
that as the heavens beckoned
more of your plans were hatching
for organising stalls
and discussions in the halls
debating with the deity
and stirring up the laity
Now gather up our song
and make one final chorus
sing it loud and long
so no-one can ignore us
and raise our voices high
in gathered eulogy
to a man for every season
who united faith with reason;
and as you face the curtain
we’re all completely certain
as you pass through that doorway
whatever others thought – you did it your way.
(c) Liz Gray, 2019
Sarada Gray 