I'd had a fitfull night of sleep (knowing where I was heading to in the morning didn't help any), before rising at 8am to be out in time catch the early train to Bury St.Edmunds.
I called a friend on the way to see if there was an opportunity for a (potentially money saving) lift - no go, as he had his own broadcasting commitments (assisting as he does in the running of local Cambridge webstreamers, 209radio).
Ah, well, the train it was.
Still, I needn't have worried as I soon discovered I was to be in good company, due to my ending up sitting with six other people whom were also doing their own Peelgrimage for the day (one of them a former member of local band Keith's Dad).
We were soon in conversation, sharing our fave Peel moments, bonding over a common interest, despite being from different backgrounds and ages, bringing home to me the universal appeal of the man's broadcasting style.
Having touched down in Bury, we fumbled our way around the streets. Although I'd printed off a map the night before, we had the tactical advantage of having someone in our midst who had worked briefly in the town, but, we still managed (according to my map at least) to walk around in a big 'U' shape!
Still, none of this mattered, as we got to where we wanted to be - St. Edmondsbury Cathederal, replete with scaffold-covered tower (as it's currently under reconstruction). It should be noted that the builders also stopped to pay their respects - but, more of that later.
The Papparazzi were there in force swarming everywhere like unswattable wasps, as well as also being lined up by the main entrance to the Cathederal on an array of stepladders, looking from the back like a D.I.Y. fanciers convention!
Still, judging by the evening news bulletins, they got their pictures.
I too got many pictures, which, due to the shortcomings of non-digital media I won't be able to post here until much later in the week.
However, my pictures were not of the big names that he introduced to the world, but, of the many devoted fans he created through his four decades of broadcasting to the world.
Here lies his REAL powerbase!
I'd estimate about three thousand people may have been there, as there was also overspill from the green by the Cathederal onto the street outside - both sides of the road from what I could glimpse.
And a varied bunch they were too - from teenagers to pensioners, Punks to Ravers, Goths to Hippies. They were all there, to say goodbye to their radio friend and comrade in music.
The service itself was (much to my consternation) somewhat hymn-heavy, but, they also played a couple of rippers in the form of Howlin' Wolf and a rather rousing tune by Roy Orbison, plus, of course finishing with Teenage kicks, for which a couple of us clapped and sang along to (people scowled, but, hey, who cares)!
The things that also unexpectedly moved me were hearing the assembled voices of the choir soaring out of the tannoy speakers, as they sang beautifully and seemed to capture the moment. The other one was Liverpool F.C.'s rendition of "Abide With Me", which I'd previously heard Mary-Anne Hobbs finishing her show with the week before.
You see, all these tunes made perfect sense in the context, as Peely would have loved them all, had he been there to hear them.
I shall skim over the various spoken tributes, as I'm sure the rest of the media will be quoting bits from them.
When the man's casket went past us at the head of the family convoy of cars, spontaneous applause broke out, as it did at the end, after the final guitar drone of "Teenage Kicks" trailed off.
You see, regardless, of what anyone else says, John Peel, was and always will be a no-nonsense peoples' hero, because of what he did, and what he stood for. He devoted his life to talent spotting, then, through the simple act of playing records or booking sessions, a public service which he did for three decades, he changed the world of music into how we know it now.
For me, the best tribute came a few minutes after the offical pomp had ended, after the world's press had rushed off to develop and edit their pictures, when all the celebrities had disappeared.
When I'd wandered inside the Cathederal, I briefly chatted to one of the builders working on the tower, who said he was "a bit of a fan".
He also said that John Peel was a "Top bloke".
Couldn't have said it better myself.
A Top Bloke indeed.
But, the best tribute of all is for us to keep singing songs, and writing new, adventurous, challenging music, creating the soundtrack for future generations (as well as our own).
Nothing less will do, as tributes go.
R.I.P., mate.
Millions of us will miss you.
Ah, well, the train it was.
Still, I needn't have worried as I soon discovered I was to be in good company, due to my ending up sitting with six other people whom were also doing their own Peelgrimage for the day (one of them a former member of local band Keith's Dad).
We were soon in conversation, sharing our fave Peel moments, bonding over a common interest, despite being from different backgrounds and ages, bringing home to me the universal appeal of the man's broadcasting style.
Having touched down in Bury, we fumbled our way around the streets. Although I'd printed off a map the night before, we had the tactical advantage of having someone in our midst who had worked briefly in the town, but, we still managed (according to my map at least) to walk around in a big 'U' shape!
Still, none of this mattered, as we got to where we wanted to be - St. Edmondsbury Cathederal, replete with scaffold-covered tower (as it's currently under reconstruction). It should be noted that the builders also stopped to pay their respects - but, more of that later.
The Papparazzi were there in force swarming everywhere like unswattable wasps, as well as also being lined up by the main entrance to the Cathederal on an array of stepladders, looking from the back like a D.I.Y. fanciers convention!
Still, judging by the evening news bulletins, they got their pictures.
I too got many pictures, which, due to the shortcomings of non-digital media I won't be able to post here until much later in the week.
However, my pictures were not of the big names that he introduced to the world, but, of the many devoted fans he created through his four decades of broadcasting to the world.
Here lies his REAL powerbase!
I'd estimate about three thousand people may have been there, as there was also overspill from the green by the Cathederal onto the street outside - both sides of the road from what I could glimpse.
And a varied bunch they were too - from teenagers to pensioners, Punks to Ravers, Goths to Hippies. They were all there, to say goodbye to their radio friend and comrade in music.
The service itself was (much to my consternation) somewhat hymn-heavy, but, they also played a couple of rippers in the form of Howlin' Wolf and a rather rousing tune by Roy Orbison, plus, of course finishing with Teenage kicks, for which a couple of us clapped and sang along to (people scowled, but, hey, who cares)!
The things that also unexpectedly moved me were hearing the assembled voices of the choir soaring out of the tannoy speakers, as they sang beautifully and seemed to capture the moment. The other one was Liverpool F.C.'s rendition of "Abide With Me", which I'd previously heard Mary-Anne Hobbs finishing her show with the week before.
You see, all these tunes made perfect sense in the context, as Peely would have loved them all, had he been there to hear them.
I shall skim over the various spoken tributes, as I'm sure the rest of the media will be quoting bits from them.
When the man's casket went past us at the head of the family convoy of cars, spontaneous applause broke out, as it did at the end, after the final guitar drone of "Teenage Kicks" trailed off.
You see, regardless, of what anyone else says, John Peel, was and always will be a no-nonsense peoples' hero, because of what he did, and what he stood for. He devoted his life to talent spotting, then, through the simple act of playing records or booking sessions, a public service which he did for three decades, he changed the world of music into how we know it now.
For me, the best tribute came a few minutes after the offical pomp had ended, after the world's press had rushed off to develop and edit their pictures, when all the celebrities had disappeared.
When I'd wandered inside the Cathederal, I briefly chatted to one of the builders working on the tower, who said he was "a bit of a fan".
He also said that John Peel was a "Top bloke".
Couldn't have said it better myself.
A Top Bloke indeed.
But, the best tribute of all is for us to keep singing songs, and writing new, adventurous, challenging music, creating the soundtrack for future generations (as well as our own).
Nothing less will do, as tributes go.
R.I.P., mate.
Millions of us will miss you.
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