This week has been dominated by the news that Lionel Blair died on Thursday. Although he and his sister Joyce had visited Ulster Television in the 1960s it didn’t mean a lot to me a production assistant at the time, handsome man, good dancer, promoting something or other. A lot of big names came and went in those days and we weren’t particularly star struck it wasn’t a fact of being blasé it was just pressure of time dashing in and out of the studio, getting contracts signed, working out timings making sure film was with the telecine boys and everyone was happy.
Then I had the great pleasure of working with Lionel on the summer musical Beauty and the Beast, seven weeks of happiness taking the role of the Countess de Colombe, mother of the naughty Danton. Opera House and Gaiety Theatre Dublin. What a man. We hit it off from the word go in the garden of the Tower Theatre in Islington and our friendship continued from that July morning in 1998. It was my first time on stage, could have been a baptism of fire but thanks to Lionel I had his support and it got me through. He visited Belfast on occasions and we always celebrated, when I was in London we met for afternoon tea sometimes in the Ritz, he was a stylish man who loved the drama of beautiful places.
But it was our phone calls that meant so much to me over the years, when the going was tough here he’d phone and invite me to come to live with him and Sue so I’d be safe! We had our longest conversation only a month ago. He was in great form and we talked about many things from cabbages to kings. He loved a bit of gossip and so did I but he was never cruel in his comments I think he loved everyone although if anyone crossed him he could put them down very effectively. He was a genuine man, amazing talent, always perfectly dressed, always smiling despite his illness over the last few years. I will miss his phone call on Christmas morning, another at New Year and on Mother’s Day it was “Hello mummy, it’s your London son …”
Do supermarkets train their staff in customer relations? We have shopping delivered (excellent delivery men) and usually it works well but on two occasions I’ve had to brave the crowds to return items – first time two bags were left but they weren’t for me so I took them back. I was treated rather like an inconvenience, someone had to check if I’d been charged and so there was a flurry of extra work. No one apologised that I had to make a journey to fix this and no one acknowledge my honestly! This week someone didn’t know their apples from their oranges and four cartons of apple juice were delivered instead of orange juice. I didn’t notice until I was wiping them down. Back to the shop, again I was a bit of an unwanted problem, ‘go and get what you want from the shelf’! ‘No you go and get what I want from the shelf.’ A supervisor was called, she didn’t look near me but flounced off and came back with the orange juice and plonked it down on the counter and left. Don’t you think at least she should have smiled at me, apologised for the mistake and sent me on my way content. The same thing happened some years ago in another store, I’d bought a packed of two pillows to take away at Easter but when I got home there was only one pillow in the packed. I rushed back next morning so early that I was the only shopper in sight. Explained to a young woman wearing bunny ears. She was very dismissive, how could this happen I asked – ‘one might have been taken out to display or maybe one was stolen’! Again I was instructed to go and get another packet, this I did but there was no sign of an apology that I had to make the journey at extreme inconvenience and holding up my journey to Donegal. I suggested she checked next time that goods were complete before selling them. No comment. I suddenly got very cross. “I’ve had to come a long way to bring this back, would it not occur to you to apologise to me on behalf of your management?” Quite suddenly she actually looked at me, her ears quivering. She snapped out of her disinterest in her job. “I AM sorry,” she said “I’m really sorry you had to come all the way back.” She looked so sad that I ended up comforting her but I like to hope she learned from the encounter. Suddenly we were friends and wished each other a happy Easter, poor girl probably had a long day ahead and very little time off over Easter but the fact that we ended up having a chat and a smile was important.
Had another go at making scones yesterday and they were superb! Forgot to put the sugar in but it didn’t matter probably better because there was plenty of sugar in the raspberry jam. Collected apples with grandson Daniel tall enough to shake the branches – busy day ahead peeling and cooking. Thanks to Susie for the scone recipe and Breezy, I hope you’re proud of me!! Happy birthday to Candy in Brisbane during last week, I wish you were here to share a scone and a little bowl of apple crumble and cream.
WALK THE STREETS AND FIND THE SECRET PLACES
Denis Tuohy has the knack of adjusting his presentation according to his audience and his story. As a broadcaster it could be reporting on a disaster, a deeply sad occasion or a light hearted celebration, always his own well considered words rather than a script – except when on stage or on television acting out a role.
And that’s what makes his anthology Streets and Secret Places such a joy to read. It’s a companion, with Denis chatting his way through sixty years of experience culminating in his contributions to BBC NI Thought For The Day.
Each two and a half minute broadcast has a beginning, a middle and an end, a skill in itself, each a little vignette interesting and leaving you thinking, exactly what the TFTD as it’s known intends.
Fellow broadcaster John Humphrys calls him a hack of the old school, “In my book there is no higher praise. He writes like a dream.” Sir Trevor McDonald in his foreword: “It’s a book for our time and about us.”
Tuohy moved from BBC Belfast to London in 1964 to work for the new BBC 2 channel. After a hesitant start due to a power failure the station went on air the following day opening with a shot of a burning candle with Tuohy blowing it out, the studio lights going up – and he was off. His programme Late Night Line Up developed into a forum for lively debate although, as he writes in the book, one critic wasn’t keen and demolished the presenters until he came to the young Tuohy ‘.. whose youth and classless brogue and lazy charm seems to fit this mistaken BBC2 image so closely that I can foresee a new adjective creeping into the shoptalk of television people – Yes, but aren’t you being just a little bit BBC-Tuohy?’
It was the start of a stellar career with BBC, ITV, RTE and TG4, immediately recognised by his rich voice and his straight talking.
Years later during a phone conversation with Gerry Anderson Gerry asked him what he was doing. “He knew about The Troubles I’ve Seen, award winning documentaries I’d produced and presented with UTV but, he asked, what about the Beeb? I told him Radio Ulster had asked me to do some Thought For The Day pieces and that I was considering having a go.” He says he can still hear the intake of mischievous breath! “Have you no shame?” “Freelances,” I replied “can’t afford shame”.
I’m glad he did because it has provided us with a book full of reminiscences all linked with his own more recent thoughts expanding on the broadcasts and giving addition background about his career. It’s a very personal book not only because of his writing but because, before he died earlier this year, his son Chris sent him a photograph he’d taken in Richmond Park looking out over a dimly lit street through the dark mysterious trees to the light of the city beyond. Denis immediately saw it as the perfect cover for his book and his publisher agreed. Although the book was far from ready, a mockup of the cover was prepared for Chris to approve which he did whole heartedly; Denis dedicates the book in memory ‘of my dear son’ and he includes a poem Wellspring written by Chris in January.
In one Thought for The Day Denis quotes the lines a famous interviewee, who after a BBC interview presented him with his book. ’To Denis from Muhammad Ali. Death is so near and time for friendly action is so limited. Peace.’
Margaret Thatcher is recalled for suggesting her interview with Denis Tuohy for TV Eye was the most hostile interview of the 1979 election campaign. “I would myself have described it as combative rather than hostile,” he says but immediately writes of a less abrasive meeting in the mid 80s after which she seemed in no hurry to go. “People are waiting to pounce as soon as I walk out of that door ….. while I’m in this room I’m safe.’
He travelled the world and we travel with him. New York to cover the aftermath of the Martin Luther King murder, London and the story of Gareth Malone challenging traumatised school children shattered by the Grenfell Tower to form a choir, to write a song about the tragedy and perform to their families and friends. The result was remarkable. ‘We’re called the school in the shadow of Grenfell,’ one said, ‘We’re not the shadow. We’re the light.’
It was young people again who caught his attention in Rostrevor parish church telling the congregation how the Stations of the Cross can relate to our every day lives, “Our guides were a teenage girl and a teenage boy.” In the First Station Jesus is condemned to death. ‘We continue to condemn people unjustly today,’ said the guide, ‘because of the colour of their skin, their gender, their beliefs, because they don’t confirm to our way of thinking.’ Denis continues to walk with the guides and recounts their modern take on the remaining Stations and this Thought for The Day is very powerful.
A treasure trove came to him via a neighbour in Rostrevor who had found a box of paintings in her attic. They were by a nurse from Newry.
Olive Swanzy had nursed in France during the First World War and, as a form of occupational therapy, she and her colleagues devised a plan to encourage patients in the field hospital to create on paper – a poem, a sketch, a cartoon. This history, that had lain in the box for 70 years, provided Denis with a wonderful insight into the courage, fear and sadness of terribly wounded men. This unique library of material was donated to the Ulster Museum.
Streets and Secret Places, Reflections Of A News Reporter is itself a treasure trove. This man of many parts – actor, writer, broadcaster and more, all recorded in this fascinating book.
More at www.messenger.ie book store.
