Irish Emon

 It was late in 88 when I first met Emon in Bishopsgate . Its no me backwards he said . Emon was just like that . The hard times had brought us together . I had been singing in a pub on evening when a fight broke out . Emon sided with me just before the knives came out . We got out as the police moved in . We watched as the squad cars arrived one after the other . Streams of London Bobbys poured inside the pub . The police had sealed off all the traffic around the area and cordoned off the street . I looked at Emon and he at me .

“I liked the stuff you were playing .“ He said .
I reached out and shook his hand .

“Thanks .“ I said . 
“Where are you staying ?” He asked and there was a silence .
As it turned out both of us were Irish and homeless .

“C’mon I know a place where we can get our head down .“ He said .
As we made our way through the streets of London we shared some interesting conversation about our Irish history and how and why we both ended up homeless . Emon had done a few small crimes in Ireland . He had a drink problem and was disowned by his family . Over the years he had made some enemies and as eventually issued an ultimatum by a certain underworld figure who told him to leave the country and never return or he would have to face an execution . Emon left Ireland and had lived rough for many years .
For myself I had come to London to marry a girl I met while she was on holidays . I feel in love and though she had too . She told me her father had loads of money and that he would support my music career . She convinced me that I had a great future with my songs in the UK .
Like a fool I actually believed her . My family and friends tried to stop me from leaving but I never listened to them . Maybe I was being selfish but needless to say I left on bad terms . I sold out all those people who did love me for someone I had only just met . Young and confused I landed in London with my guitar and a overnight bag . I though it strange that she wasn’t there to meet me at the airport . What followed was even more strange . I was robbed outside the airport . I got lost on the streets and had no friends or family to help me out . I had managed to do a few gigs around the place . It basically gave me money for food . Up until the night I met Emon I had been sleeping rough on the streets .

The most intriguing fact about Emon was he came from the same village in Ireland as myself . Its amazing that in a city of over ten million people how two people from the same Irish village could meet . By the end of the conversation we came to a place called Lambeth Walk .
It was quiet on the street and I followed Emon through a doorway of a shop .
The shop was a Chinese take away food spot and Emon spoke to the owner who pointed upstairs . They shook hands and Emon returned and said.

“Ok . Heres the deal . We can stay here for a week . But we have to help out in the kitchen . We’ll get some food as well . Does that sound ok to you “ “
“Ok . That’s fine . ” I said .
By the end of the night I had got to know Emon and we got along very well .
We were both poor and alone in the big city . So we had a lot in common .
We were like brothers and clicked from the first moment we met .
In a city were friends are hard to find both of us had found a sense of family well being and hope . The streets of London looked different now . Every day had a new meaning because it almost began to feel like home . Life had a purpose now and we never felt so ashamed of who we were .

I was lucky enough to get a job as a storeman in Dalston . I worked in the despatch area of a warehouse . At night I still did the some gigs when ever I could get in some place . There was always fights . Its part of the territory when you’re doing live gigs in pubs around London . Emon was always there when I played . He always made sure my back was covered . Emon could look after himself and was respected by a few around town .
I was happy that Emon was back doing some construction work again .
For when he wasn’t on the construction site he was on a drinking binge .
But these days he wasn’t on the tear as often .

We both had separate lives but a great friendship . Our network of connections and friends grew all the time . London can be like that . You can go out and make hundreds of acquaintances, but good friends are very hard to find .

In London there were always situations that would develop that required more than normal solutions .
One night I was at home alone when the phone rang .
It was Emon and he was crying a little . I wasn’t quite ready for what Emon was about to tell me .
I answered the phone
“Hello .“

“Is that you Emon ?“ He answered through his tears ,
“I’m in the Guys hospital . I’m told I’ve got cancer . They have to operate immediately . I don’t think I have long to live .“
I almost collapsed on the spot .
I was lost for words . In the past Emon was always able to find the answer to problems . Now it was my turn to find the right thing to say .  I tried to sound confident and in control and said .
“It’s ok . You’ll get through this Emon . Trust me . It will be all right .“
“I’ll ring you tomorrow .“

“I’m coming over to the hospital .“ I said .
He hung up the phone .
When I got to the hospital to see Emon he was in the theatre .
After the operation I was told it was an open and shut case with no chance of survival .
A week later he left this world . It was May 1989 when he died .
I wasn’t able to contact his family and I don’t really know if they would have even cared anyway . At his funeral I had a sense that angels were guarding his coffin and uncanny as it was three other people emerged and they assisted me to carry his coffin from the church to the hearse .
There were about one hundred people there at his funeral .
Some of them I knew and others who I had never seen before .
There is a lot more I could say about him and how he became the brother that I never had . I tried to write it down in a poem and then I wrote a song that I called friends and brothers .
I can’t sing it to you but here are the lyrics .

Friends And Brothers ( Song For Emon )
In my memory you will always live on ,
like a eternal melody of our favourite song .
My friend and brother your smile’s always there,
And if you could help me pluck one from a melancholy air .

Friends and brothers we were two of a kind
On cold streets in London they’re hard to find .
But somehow we did and then it was gone ,
Like the last call before I wrote you this song .
 

I remember the way you’d cheer when I’d sung ,
You’d stand and you’d back me against anyone
You always be there right by my side
So sudden the shock, too soon when you died .
 

My memory of you lives on in a song ,
The friendship we had and a bond that was strong.
So I’ll smile for the memory even though you’re gone
And sing for the gladness in a song for Emon .

That is the lyrics of the song I wrote for Irish Emon .
I often think of him still now that he’s gone .
Good friends are hard to find and it was just by chance I found him .

THE END

By Paul McCann