Mountain George, at ninety-three - it's over
Over to us folks that don't understand
Underscore seasons as day turns to night
Nigh on a century for, Mountain George.
Taken before he knew we knew about...
About him living there outside the inn
In the shepherd's hut, miles from nowhere
No one comes unless the post is taken.
George, yes you will be missed by everyone
Every one of us and your friend Olive
Olya, Comrade O, made us remember
Reminding us about you, Mountain George.
George lived the life we wish we could enjoy.
Enjoy yourself in paradise now, George.
06052011
If you are not already aware George DeRoe passed away peacefully in his sleep on 19.04.2011 aged 93. He was found in his self-built home next to Dolgoch Hostel. He loved living there and it would have been his wish to breath his last there, rather than in a hospital or an old people's home.
ReplyDeleteMost of you will of course know that he was the original and only resident YHA warden, moving in before the hostel first opened some four decades ago. After the YHA replaced him with volunteer wardens, he built his humble abode next to the hostel, where he remained until his death.
His funeral will be held at Aberwystwyth Cremetorium on Wednesday 11th May 2011 at midday. This is located on the B4572 off the A487.
Many of you may have fond memories of George and may wish to remember him even if you are unable to attend the service. It has been suggested that a permanent and practical memorial should be put in place at Dolgoch, and to that end it is is proposed to install a quality wooden bench at the hostel with a suitable plaque to remember him by.
If you wish to make a donation towards this bench in lieu of flowers then please send your contribution to the trust's treasurer, David Bicker, 7 Hartlebury Road, Halesowen, West Midlands B63 4PL. Cheques should be made payable to Elenydd Wilderness Hostels. Please write on the back of the cheque 'George's bench' or send a short note to that effect.
There will also be a memorial service for George held at Dolgoch on Sunday 19th June at 11.00am.
Sorry, I didn't know about Mountain George - but what an amazing story!
ReplyDeleteIndeed amazing. You have made a good tribute to him.
ReplyDeleteWe have a couple of interesting old folk around these parts, too. It's nice to have a tribute. Thanks for sharing George with us.
ReplyDeleteAndy, I know I left a comment earlier. I don't know who Mountain George was, but this is a fine tribute.
ReplyDeletePamela
Andy- George sounds like he lead a full life. Great job at the acrostic flame thrower.
ReplyDeleteA perfect tribute.
ReplyDeleteWhat a nice tribute to Mountain George. Now he will live on in your words and the people who read them.
ReplyDeleteA lovely tribute.
ReplyDeleteAnna :o]
great tribute! he sounds like an amazing person!
ReplyDeleteThanx for your words in memory of George. I met him in '79 and I'm thankful I did. We had a whole lot of fun together during the years. If it wasn't for him I'd never have spent so many great times in Dolgoch - a magic place for me.
ReplyDeleteHis shepherd's hut was a 'mushroom shed' in his words, DeRoe humour being special due to thousands of sheep, midgets and 'hostellers'.
George will always be there making funny remarks and playing piano, we just have to listen.
Thanx for your words in memory of George. I met him in '79 and I'm thankful I did. We had a whole lot of fun together during the years. If it wasn't for him I'd never have spent so many great times in Dolgoch - a magic place for me.
ReplyDeleteHis shepherd's hut was a 'mushroom shed' in his words, DeRoe humour being special due to thousands of sheep, midgets and 'hostellers'.
George will always be there making funny remarks and playing piano, we just have to listen.
Andy, thank you for sharing your poem about Mountain George - and telling us a little about him. Everyone deserves to be remembered fondly.
ReplyDeleteRichard
Thanks for caring so much about George, even though you never met him! I was still in the US when I heard about his death. When I got home to Newcastle I took out his old hotwater bottle to fill as usual for bed. He had passed it on to me four years ago as it had become too dangerous for him to pour boiling water into its narrow spout. As I filled the bottle, water sprayed out from hundreds of tiny holes, a veritable fountain, not a simple leak. Oh George, in your own humble ways you always made a big impression!
ReplyDelete