Tribute to Gordon Normanton by Andrew Buck 25th June 2023
When we came to live in Halifax in late 1984 we soon discovered the nicest people we had ever lived amongst. We joined St. Jude’s in early 1985 and were overwhelmed by the kindness of many of its congregation, not least among them were Gordon and Ann Normanton. Our younger boy also became friends with Rebecca and Adrian, Gordon and Ann’s twins, who were all of about the same age. The choir was terrifically good and all the Normantons seemed to be in it. After Peter Williams, the organist at that time, left to be the organist at Ripon Cathedral, Gordon took over as organist and choir master. Some years later Leslye and I started to have Burns Night Suppers. It was enormous fun to have English men and women propose the Immortal Memory or make a speech about the significance of Burns. I admit with shame that I learned things I never knew about Burns from some of the speeches – and I thought I knew a great deal – and Gordon’s were among some of the best. He went to enormous efforts to learn about Burns, but, of course, by profession he was an English teacher. Moreover, without him playing the piano for us before we ended the evening with Auld Lang Syne we would have been unable to sing all those lovely Burns songs.
As we edged farther away from each other in the time of the contagion we discovered ourselves as part of a single organism. In the contagion we became again a community. All of a sudden, normality was the most sacred thing we had – even though we had never given it so much importance before, even though we did not know what it was. We just knew we wanted it back. We missed each other. With what joy we began to meet each other again after the pestilence had gone.
Rabbi Sacks has said that science helps us to understand by taking things apart while religion or faith helps us to put things together to give them meaning. Gordon with his musical understanding and in his generous friendship, coupled with a wonderfully laconic sense of the irony of existence and a strong faith, put things together for me.
Richard Feynman, that greatest of modern physicists, said, “To worship God means to recognise that mind and intelligence are woven into the fabric of our universe in a way that altogether surpasses our comprehension.” And Wordsworth reflects in Lines Written Above Tintern Abbey,
“That best portion of a good man’s life, his little, nameless, unremembered acts of kindness and of love.” Gordon would have been astonished that anyone saw him like that – he was much too modest, as are so many of you here today – but it is what I believe.
God grant you eternal rest Gordon – we shall meet again in God’s good time.