Jasper King remembered, juggler and street performer RIP

(4th April 2025)

I fondly recall Jasper’s send-off, Jasper’s funeral.

A quick flowing stream of a memory.

I parked up the night before, at 2am

Woke up to find I'd been given a Parking ticket

Got my smart clothes on, polished my shoes

Walked up to the pleasance with my trombone to help Martin and Inge load in

Found I could have parked there...Martin gave me a ride back to my car, so I could bring it back into the courtyard of the Pleasance.

And we had a quick run through I'll Fly Away, a tune song with various drummers, including Matt and his dog Wendell. Jenny Gardner on the big floor-Tom, a man called Marcus on trumpet, another trombone player Tim, Martin Green on, melodica, Daz on Tuba, with his dreadlocks-part part-time nurse and mate of lovely mate Peadhar Long. Decorations were being put up, tables had a framed picture of Jasper, the projector was set up, and I clipped my photo of Jasper to my jacket like a VIP badge, a VIP badge = very important Jasper.

All good friendly camaraderie. Got a ride with Matt in the front with his golden dog Wendel sitting with me, I collected lots of Dog hair on my dad's charity-shop tuxedo jacket..we drove to drop the dog off with his dog sitters. Then on our way to meet the rest of the cortège outside the old public baths warrender, Now a gym.

No notes are to be played, even tuning up. Many others started arriving. In dark suits, some tweed, brown, sky blue suits. Sharon's house was down the road...I had second take, looks, double takes... when I half recognised Old faces from the past grown a wee bit older like my face, Mike Bettison Salami, with his melodeon, Lioux Heap, with Simon care and his yellow coloured squeeze box, Dave Hunt, Angus from the Shoogles, Conrad, Jock, Gavin Lewry, with fiddles and melodeons, andy Thorburn Mary McMasters,

Some I recognised their faces but couldn't recall their names, Vinnie, Heather’s man, was to give us the signal, via Heather.

The Hearse came slowly, with Jaspers basket woven casket...we all turned to face it almost saluting him as his body passed by.

Sharon and her close friends and family came out of her house, 50 yards away the musicians kept our distance, I saw Black hats, and flowers brought and laid into the hearse, there was much hugging, kissing holding close, utterances, of grief, sadness, but mixed with the sense of also a celebration of jasper....not sentimental but...with brave faces, grins, friends reconnecting with friends, Shoogle-Angus pulled a wee whisky bottle and offered us a nip, a dram to warm our cockles.

We got the signal to walk quietly towards the hearse, us horn players leading, big drums behind, with percussion, James Macintosh, then melodeons, and fiddles, Angus, and other Freinds joined the procession, cortège etc.

Once we were in place...the hearse moved off slowly with family in front of us...

We began the tune with the drummers rattling 16 bars first, I couldn't help but think of orange marchers till the band kicked in with our New Orleans-style tune...the family turned their heads smiled, and wowed us....e walked...playing, Marcus conducting, signalling when to stop playing and we all sang the words...while Daz pumped his tubas bass rhythm, his red mouthpiece, like a clowns nose that had slipped onto his mouth. There were suited men's arms halting the traffic as we turned right at the junction on Thirlstanes Road. Even the red lights were not against us as we walked on following the hearse through, playing...passing shops, and people towards the church...nearer the church were many many more friends, waiting outside....enjoying this unusual scene, faces I recognised, Martin Simpson, mike Rowan Rachel, andy cutting....

We played the full blown tune, then we sang acapella, the words again then launched into the full blown tune with Markus 'trumpet, Tims trombone, then quiet again so we could hear the fiddles buttons of melodeons, a melodica, flutes, whistles and all, ..while Daz pumped his tubas bass rhythm, my heart swelled and began to overflow in my breath as I played, sobs between notes, heaving chest, tears as I blew....moved, overwhelmed by the beauty, by the love everyone was feeling, and expressing for Jasper and the losing of him...we all shared that same grief, that same life force that wanted to celebrate him, invoke his memory, physically, here all of us with our feet on the earth, this road, traffic halted as we all marched or swayed towards the Kirk, proud and full of each other's collective love, Markus conducting, signalling us all eyes and ears...the great drums of Matt and jenny and all beating together with our hearts thumping,

The power this occasion had of stopping the traffic, delaying people from reaching their destinations and stopping conversations, was like stopping time....for that short period, the clocks stood still.....

We all gave strength to each other as we played as we walked playing too...on the edge, each of us welling up.

We all gave strength to each other, the strength to walk and carry Jasper with us...

We all felt carried by that as we played....we were all carried by each other...following that feeling throughout the evening...into stories, hugging long lost friends the blethering, the dancing...

We played and sang as people followed us through the gates into the church courtyard,

we kept the song up, in the air singing it up, like juggling balls our notes, the words of the song, 'One Fine Day',

family and some entered the church...we played...then the priest, Mike Huck,

with his tied short ponytail…..

Beckoned us and welcomed us into the church to continue...

We entered the church and walked playing down the aisles, filling the church with our sound, we played a little quieter, a reflex, out of some respect perhaps for the folks already gathered and seated or a sensitivity that the church might require a little more decorum..but not subdued. There was a congregation of more folks gathered there...we were improvising now....but to fill this place with the life of the music and tune, the warmth of the playing

in this colder temple, an austere high ceiling was just what was needed....to bring this colour and life into this place of church organ and hymn sheets,

we flowed into the church rows, taking pews, and then all and the song together...as we flowed in, people following us...taking their seats behind, we sang, smiles on faces that turned to see,

Eventually, we found the end of the song as the priest took his place to welcome us all

And Jaspers's coffin was carried by pallbearers including Tristan.

The priest was from the North of England...Mike? But he was down to Earth, I thought of Preacher Casey in The Grapes of Wrath.

The preacher Mike had married Jasper and Sharon,

he knew Jasper, and that was obvious from how he spoke of him, no mention of that word ‘Sin’, he praised.

He thanked the musicians, he told us all that no one had ever seen this before here in this vicinity and church.

He joked, in a humble self-effacing way, amongst all of the speakers and eulogies...

He went on to say that he knew Jasper very well, that Jasper had told him things that no one here would ever know....and he would never tell.

I have more…but

I wanted to keep this ‘brief’.