No more riding in Pete's old car
Some of my very earliest memories of life come from the Morgan’s. They lived on the other side of our block in a basement flat the main memory I have of which is a red plastic couch sort of thing that could come apart and be made into all sorts of fabulous things. Martin was one of my very first friends (aged 2 or so) and his dad Pete provided me with an ongoing answer whenever my elder brother or sister had been somewhere that seemed cool or special. I had always been there before “in Pete’s old car”.
The Pete in question, Pete Morgan, died recently and is a huge loss, not only to his family and those who knew him, but to anyone who enjoyed or is inspired by his poetry and writing.
Our paths have continued to cross (at fairly irregular intervals) over the years. The last time we visited was when Iona was heavily into writing both novels and poetry. The love and inspiration that he shared with her as he read what she wrote and talked about what the words were and where they came from are something I will never forget.
We are a much better family for having been fortunate enough to have been touched by Pete and his.
Pete Morgan only published five collections of his poetry in forty years, but his work attracted many admirers. Some of his poems were set to music by artists like the Levellers and Al Stewart. Pete was born in Lancashire. He left school at the age of sixteen and moved to London where he pinned his poems to trees on Hampstead Heath in search of an audience. Two years later he joined the army, serving as a platoon commander in West Germany. But in 1964 he decided he was a pacifist and resigned his commission. He moved to Edinburgh and began performing his poems at the Traverse Theatre. Later he moved to Yorkshire which became a source of inspiration to him.
:: Justin ::