Bill Gillogaley 1930-2005. An Old Spot regular.

Bill Gillogaley grew up in the hard shipbuilding town of Greenock, on the banks of the River Clyde in Scotland. Its was the sort of place where women would gather outside the gates of the shipyard on a Friday night to take the pay-packets off their men before they drank it away or lost it in a card school. It was a tough uncompromising place to be brought up, but his parents saw to it that he would have a good education, and after that, a good apprenticeship at a local engineering firm on the banks of the river Clyde.

Despite its then gritty exterior, my father always loved Greenock, and every year without fail, you would find us in Greenock and Largs. My sister and I were convinced that all sea water must be freezing since these are the only places we ever spent our summer holidays.

My dad left Greenock in his early twenties intending never to return, but there were always little clues how much he missed his homeland. I remember his voice would change on the phone to the distinct Greenock accent of his parents when he called them every week. He particularly missed the River Clyde, as do so many people that come from that area, and his ashes were returned to his beloved river in May 2006, on his birthday.

Bill loved music. His father and uncles had all been professional musicians, and like his father, he learned to play the trumpet. He was a sight-reader and could transpose a score in his head. He had a musical ear that even the slightest off key note could make him wince and grit his teeth. During the late forties and early fifties, Dad played the local dance halls with various bands and later some of his colleagues were to become musicians of international acclaim in records, TV, and live performances.

His music tastes were far ranging, from Mozart to Pink Floyd, Val Doonican to Robbie Williams. There was nothing he wouldn't listen to once with an open mind. He had the gift to listen to music with his ears, and not with his eyes, and in the rest of his daily life he measured people by the same principle. He tended to judge by what he heard, and not by what he saw.

The last music he listened to was Pink Floyd performing "Comfortably Numb" during the Live 8 concert on television. He had always been fond of that song, and it was particularly apt for him at that time since he was suffering from Motor Neurone Disease. It was played again at his funeral.

Following the completion of his apprenticeship in Scotland, Bill went to sea on the great oil tankers of the Caltex line. This was the most exciting period of his life as he visited Australia and America and everything in between. He regaled us with tales of those adventures at sea, the friends he made, and the places he saw. He quickly rose through the merchant ranks to become a First Engineering officer.

Bill married Kay in 1953 and gave up the sea to live in Bristol to test missile engines at Filton, he then moved again to Dursley in 1959 to raise his young family in the small Gloucestershire market town. It was hard at times back then and he once had to work three jobs simultaneously to make ends meet. After finishing his daytime office job at 5.30pm, he would go door to door every evening collecting payments for a finance company. Then again on Sunday he would be up early to deliver newspapers from the boot of his car. The paper round had originally started as a venture for his children to do, but after they both tired of it quickly, you could find him delivering the Sunday papers all by himself, every Sunday, in all weathers.

Following his retirement at 63, the happiest years of Bill's life were spent at The Old Spot enjoying the fine beer, the welcoming atmosphere, and the excellent company that always gathers there. He loved the debates, the banter between friends, and although he often disagreed, sometimes deliberately, he always had respect for someone else's point of view.

You can find a seat in the pub's garden dedicated to the memory of Bill Gillogaley. He had always said he could get a seat at The Old Spot, even when it was busy, now he has one with his name on it.

Paul Gillogaley
January, 2007

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