Delivered at the Celebration of his Life at his funeral Mass, St Mary's Cathedral, Coulby Newham, Middlesbrough June 16 2017
Vin's belly laugh is now cheering up a downcast deity
Vin was a life force who lightened the load of all those whose lives he touched
Vin, the Tommy Cooper of the folk world, made us laugh, and marvel at how a gift of such consummate professionalism could be wrapped up in such a parcel of eejitry. Just...like that.
Vin's life stood four-square on the foundations of his love for his adored wife Pat, who was the scaffolding around his existence, and of his beloved children and grandchildren; of his deep and sincere faith, which inspired his passion for justice of all kinds, both the human and the environmental; of his ardent love for music and language; and the fact that everything he took on board was grist to his creative mill.
Vin Garbutt, old friend, legend who has now entered the pantheon, storyteller, songsmith, seanchai, raconteur of the innocently hilarious, raised us up with his absurd patter and then put us down again in a more enlightened place, shedding tears of joy at our predicament. He was the maestro of the high-wire, corny, belaboured, clunking pun, - Norman Wisdom, Hamish the Tambourine man; Butcome ye back...; tuaregs; Parbold eggs; Buttermere toast; and top of the list... Rudyard Kipling… As Vin's old friend Pete Betts would have put it, 'They won't make 'em like Vin any more'.
But our dear friend has stepped off life's carousel a few stops too early, in mid-jest, leaving us groping for the punch-line...
Farewell Vincent, dear friend
May your valiant, noble soul be at God's right hand.
Slan leat a Uinseann a chara dhil
Ar dheislamh De go raibh do anam croga uasal.
Vin was the open-throated blast of the East Wind
Vin was the gutteral vernacular of South Bank
Vin was the beating heart of Roseberry Topping
Vin was a leaping salmon of knowledge in a clear, crystal Tees
Vin was a lightening-conductor, ever-raging against man’s inhumanity to man
Vin the Healer, the one-to-one communicator, was a practitioner in the art of soul-to-soul resuscitation
Vin was the thrilling, trilling, whistling, soaring notes of the lark, who has now saluted the sky, whistle in hand
Vin was an instrument chosen by the gods as their mouthpiece
Vin sang his heart out, that great heart that beat out the rhythms of our time
Vin’s light-hearted gravitas helped us laugh through our tears
Vin, the Teeside Troubadour, the Bard of Eston, the jingle-jangle minstrel, the pied piper of the Raphael curls, led his global entourage to a good place
Vin has left us, somewhere on the road to Youghal, with a smile in our grieving hearts
Vin was the unvarnished visionary voice of the vulnerable and the voiceless
You are viewing the text version of this site.
To view the full version please install the Adobe Flash Player and ensure your web browser has JavaScript enabled.
Need help? check the requirements page.