Town comes to a standstill as the people mourn their hero
Locals recall singer’s love and devotion to his late wife Rose, writes Nicola Anderson
BIG Tom used to have a saying about when he would take to the stage again after the long winter: “When the bumble bee hits the window, I’ll be back.”
On the first glorious sunlit evening of the season, the quiet, humble king of Irish country music did indeed return to the streets of his beloved Castleblayney, Co Monaghan, as large crowds stood in respect, genuine affection and gratitude for all he had done to put their town on the map.
Appropriately for a man who had loved nature with a passion, there was even a sign – in the form of a particularly large bumble bee, floating aloft. The applause sounded loudly as the hearse passed, his grief-stricken band members walking slowly alongside the vehicle.
It was the end of an era
– for their devoted fans who had remembered the heady days of the showband era when they would crowd into the old ballrooms around the country and UK venues like the Galtymore in London’s Cricklewood and the Carousel in Manchester.
It was a sombre occasion for the band members themselves, who recalled the singer as the best of men.
They spoke of a genuine gentleman who had never forgotten his roots, loved football and fishing and was a strong advocate for conservationism, despising the pollution of rivers.
It was also the sad end of an era for the local people, who had remembered Big Tom and his recently deceased wife Rose as having quietly, and behind the scenes, done much for those who had little.
Local woman Berry Lynch said the couple were extremely close.
“You’d never see one without the other,” Ms Lynch said.
She added that at his wife’s graveside less than three months ago, Tom had said: “I won’t be long after you.”
The sorrow at his loss was only matched by their regret that he had not lived to see the completion of the stone statue recently commissioned and which will be proudly erected in a prominent position in the town.
Sean Hughes, who plays with Big Tom’s son Dermot in the country band The Outlaws, told how he had known Tom a “long time”.
“He had the common touch. He never lost it. We all call him the King,” he said, adding that Dermot is a “chip off the old block” with the same dry humour.
He recalled being in the NEC in Killarney when three-quarters of the crowd stood during a Big Tom performance – he’d seen it before at a concert but never at a dance, he said.
“Whatever it was he had, the people loved it,” he said.
“He was a big softie. A gentleman is what they’ll call him and that’s what he was.
“It’s a sad day for the town – everybody loved him.”
In her shoe shop on the main street, Elizabeth Mulholland, who is the partner of country star Declan Nerney, described how Big Tom was a massive loss for Irish country music.
“Big Tom had something special. So down to earth and even though he was so popular he didn’t take it on board – he said it was as if it was happening to someone else,” she explained.
“Joe Dolan had it too – he lived for the music and for the people.”
Local man Brendan Fay recalled being at the Galtymore in London when Big Tom
played when it was so packed “you couldn’t get into it”.
“When he sang a song, it took us back home,” he said.
Over a cup of tea in the Glencarn hotel in Castleblayney, Henry McMahon, band leader and song writer with the Mainliners and band manager Kevin McCooey told how the band had a unique strength in that all the original members had come from “a three-mile radius”.
Big Tom, Henry and his brother Seamus were all reared in Oram, while John Beattie, Ronnie Duffy and Ginger Morgan all came from Castleblayney just 4km away, with Cyril McKevitt from out the Carrickmacross road.
“It made for something you couldn’t break,” said Henry.
They had started playing gigs in 1962 or ’63 but their real break had been in 1965 when they got the opportunity to appear on ‘The Showband Show’ on Radio Éireann.
“It was one channel land,” explained Henry.
“There were three spots on the show – the featured artist which was Larry Cunningham that night, the guest artist, who was Joe Dolan and the Drifters, and the newcomer spot which was us.”
The whole thing may not have happened at all, said Henry, because Big Tom had been in England working in an ice-cream factory and then had moved to the Channel Islands picking fruit because he had preferred being outdoors.
The only reason he came back home at all was after his younger brother died and he had come back to be with his parents.
BUT in the ice-cream factory, Tom had forged vital connections, Henry said – having met the Corduff twins who were interested in music and who had taken an interest in a song Tom had taught them called ‘Gentle Mother’.
He was a big softie. A gentleman is what they’ll call him and that’s what he was. It’s a sad day for the town
Tom had to write back to his sister for the next verse – and it was this song he had subsequently sung on ‘The Showband Show’.
“It was a slow burner,” said Henry of their success.
They played ballrooms in the 32 counties of Ireland and in all the Irish centres in England.
These were their favourite gigs of all, he explained, saying the Irish had appreciated the link with home so much and they used to arrive over with “a big bag full of requests to play”.
Crossing the Border back then was tricky, he recalled, and if they arrived back late the customs officer would be “grumpy” and looking for a list of all the instruments and their serial numbers.
Big Tom had left The Mainliners in 1975 and founded The Travellers who played until 1989; it was with this band that he had success with ‘Four Country Roads’ in 1981.
Asked what the secret of their success was, Henry said: “We were all ordinary fellas with no airs or graces.”
Someone had once quipped how they had come a long way since they had to feed “thrupenny bits into a juke box to learn the words of the songs”, he said.
“That was the way we had to do it then,” he said. “We all took a line and wrote it down.”
Henry laughed as he recalled how in 1981, Big Tom had decided to go to Nashville but did not like flying. Instead, he had taken the QE2 cruise ship from England and then a Greyhound bus to the home of country music. “It was far from the lap of luxury,” he said.
Kevin said that with his unique vocal talent, Big Tom could have made it in Nashville – but he was a home bird.
He loved the countryside and nature.
“He got that from his mother – she could grow apples from seeds,” he said.
“Working with him was a privilege,” they agreed.