And here's the one from Tom/curmudgeon...thanks Tom and Patty for the links. I can barely see for the tears just thinking of Liam singing the Bard of Armagh on this day.


By Chris Elliott
August 09, 2007 12:24 PM

A visitor to Dover on Thursday morning would have known something big was happening, that a dignitary was visiting or that a show business celebrity was in town. In fact, both of these statements would be accurate in explaining the large crowds near downtown Dover this morning. The internationally renowned musician who had adopted Dover, N.H. as his home, Tommy Makem, was being buried.

Of the various celebrities that have called the New Hampshire seacoast area home, there is none more luminescent than Tommy Makem. His influence on American folk music and on traditional Irish music is practically indescribable. He is the author of numerous immortal songs and was a performer nonpareil. Any Tommy Makem fan will tell you without guile or hyperbole that right into the last years of his life, he was still refining and improving his craft.

Rather than deteriorating from vigorous use, his voice was still growing in expressiveness and wisdom as he entered his seventies. He was felled by lung cancer, but his artistry remained in full bloom. Indeed in his eulogy, it would be told that when asked if he intended to retire soon, Tommy responded, "I retire every night." The anticipated overflow of attendees were shuttled to and from St. Mary's Catholic Church on Third Street via two C&J Trailways buses that left from the Dover Middle School. Downtown traffic was snarled coming into town by attendees who took their chances on nearby parking. Attendance was such that the overflow was seated in the nearby rectory with a video feed of the proceedings in the church.

It was a crystal clear, sunny, arid day in Dover, a typical example of the sunny summer days that charmed Tommy Makem into to selecting Dover as his home. St Mary's church swelled to capacity and reverberated with the cacophony of an anxious crowd. All fell silent as the pipes played and Tommy Makem's casket was carried in off of a Dover Fire Department truck and into the church. Tommy enjoyed a close relationship with Dover's fire and police departments, and they afforded their friend this last honor.

First to speak was Sister Anastasia, who read the familiar passage from Ecclesiastes about a time for every season. She was followed by Molly Dickerson, Tommy's granddaughter, who read a beautiful piece entitled, "The Amazing Man My Granda Was." Father Cerullo read a homily recalling sweet stories of Tommy and his family. Tommy was a communicant at St Mary's and a valued parishioner. He referred to Tommy as a "master of kindness." He recalled the biblical use of the phrase, "salt of the earth," noting that in those times, salt was a highly valued commodity, suggesting that in this sense, Tommy was "the salt of the earth and the light of the world." He said that Tommy's mission in life was to do the right thing, a strategy that he contended would "confound some and astonish the rest." He said that Tommy told him that his mother "sang incessantly," and that he must have picked it up from her. It was clear that here was a dear man who had lost a dear friend, and who was keeping his sorrow at bay for the sake of the hundreds of people who were at his church to process their own grief that day. Surely, his tears would come with a smaller, more intimate audience.

There was a presentation of gifts that included an American flag, an Irish flag, Tommy's banjo, bread, wine, Irish sweaters, doctoral degrees, a whistle and a fire helmet. Family and friends spoke at the end, including Father MacPhadin, Eugene Byrne, Peter Makem, and Tommy Hardiman. Father MacPhaidan related Tommy's generosity on and off stage, saying that he was a slave to encores, and that if the audience was with him, he would have a hard time leaving the stage. He recalled Tommy walking out onstage to a third or fourth encore and saying, "Have you no homes to go to?" To close, Tommy's longtime musical partner Liam Clancy played concertina and sang The Bard of Armagh. As the crowd spilled out into the sunny Dover street, the reality of this day's meaning seemed to settle in. There were more tears outside than there were during the ceremony. Beet-faced, white-haired men with the map of Ireland etched into their faces wept and held one another, tears streaked across women's cheeks, some under veils, some fairly crippled with their grieving. The long, solemn procession followed the fire truck to St. Mary's cemetery where the Bard of Armagh himself was laid to rest.