Sunday, 20 May 2012
http://jacothenorth.blogspot.co.uk/2012/05/obituary-barrie-edwards-bargoed-ap.html
![]() |
CLICK TO ENLARGE |
There is to be a service of celebration at Jerusalem chapel, Harlech, 11am Monday the 28th, followed by cremation in Bangor.
I first met Barrie some forty years ago, when I was in Coleg Harlech and he had just left the Navy. We realised we shared certain loves: Wales, good music, booze and women. Although I was married soon after; which left us with just the three. But the missus liked Barrie; he was one of those blokes that women wanted to 'mother'. I remember one time we were staying in his little cottage under the castle, and she cleaned it from top to bottom. Barrie was disorientated for quite some time.
In the summer he could often be found busking outside the castle, and engaging in regular spats with the CADW staff manning the pay desk, some of whom objected to his presence - him a Man of Harlech playing traditional Welsh airs, or his own compositions, and them . . . jumped-up little English Jobsworths. A cameo for much of what's wrong with our country today.
CLICK TO ENLARGE |
We had some rare old times. But it took its toll, and his health deteriorated, leaving him in his later years with a stooped walk. Latterly I used to call to his little flat down in 'Legoland', and never failed to be amazed by his collection; not just of old music, but books, prints and other echoes of a lost Wales. And of course, the dog (or, rather, bitch) for he was never without a faithful collie.
There are quite a few stories I could tell . . . but had better not. Though here's one you'll enjoy; one of the best put-downs I ever suffered. We'd had a few jars one time, and I asked him if he knew Battle of the Somme. "It's a lament", said I, helpfully. His withering riposte was: "It wouldn't be a f***ing jig, would it!" Thank you, Barrie.
In his later years he took to wearing the ensemble shown in the picture above: red beret, poncho-type blanket over his shoulders and trousers tucked into knee-high boots or socks. Looking for all the world like a displaced gaucho. As if he cared! God bless you, Barrie; you were a good man, and a good Welshman. I'll miss you.