I didn’t know why Bookwitch got all those hits for Ellen McCourt early on Monday morning. Thought it might be a fluke.
Now I know why, of course. Frank died on Sunday, and he’ll be missed by many. Offspring and I met him twice, and he was great both times. Very funny, but slightly impatient with his moderator in Gothenburg three years ago. Frank sort of took over and did her job as well, and I’m not sure she noticed. She was so flustered at sitting next to the famous Frank McCourt.
Then it was Frank and Ellen in Stockport in November 2007, with tales of crispy chicken and ticks. Very friendly and really lovely. It felt like they were personal friends instead of visiting stars.
It’s not always Daughter pays attention when I report having seen in the news that someone has died. She did this time. It’s the personal connection which makes all the difference.
Here is Daughter, being pushed ahead of all those chancing autograph collectors who couldn’t even be bothered to buy a book. Little did they know that her book hadn’t been purchased there, either. But anything for queue jumping.
Frank, we’ll remember your way of spinning a funny tale around what someone was having for dinner. Crispy chicken!