The folky in me can't resist the quotation to celebrate the fact that today we have managed a whole year's worth of family births, marriages, deaths and more.
"Ploughed, sown, reaped and mown, the year turns round again
And like Barleycorn, who rose from the grave, the New Year will rise up again."
I started the thread with the anniversary of my great-uncle, Ernest Cooper Smith's death in Ypres, on November 8th 1914. This is now ninety-nine years ago. Next year will be the start of so many sad commemorations. Ernest's's grand-daughter is visiting Ypres this weekend for the Remembrance Sunday service at the Menin Gate. I know exactly where she will be standing, right under his name, when the buglers sound the Last Post and I know that she will be most incredibly moved by the solemnity of the occasion and by the sheer number of people present. Through her, I have discovered so much about this man and his family and have begun to understand something of where my own musical inclination has its roots. When he died, his widow sent his musical instruments back to his family in Middlesbrough. When, in 1983, I started to play the concertina, mum told me that there was one on the mantelpiece in 96 Croft Street when she was a child, with another similar instrument but different shape on the other end and that they had belonged to one of her great uncles and had been through army service with him. When I met Ernest's granddaughter, it turned out that she also plays a member of the generic "squeezebox" family - similar to the concertina but a different shape. Neither of us knew about Ernest's musical history when we started to play these instruments. Call me a romantic and a fool but a bit of me feels that between us, we are keeping his memory alive almost a century after his death and that there is some relevance in the words of the song I quoted at the top of this post.
And so, forward into the next twelve months......
