Jim ‘Broon’
Obituary
by Joan and Jimmy Blue
They came from a’ the airts to Dunbarney Church in Bridge of Earn to remember and to give thanksgiving for the life of Jim Broon, as he was known. He touched so many lives, not only with his fiddle playing, but with his love of life, his sense of fun, his endless ploys, his ideas. And he did have great ideas. Who else, when being in charge of a Council ‘coup’ would dig out part of the banking and rear pigs! He had to give this up when, on his way to the market with a pig in the back seat of the car, he met his boss in Perth. And then with equipment begged or borrowed and having picked up an old baler, he started a paper collection business. He never turned folk away and gave work to quite a number of men who were unable to get work elsewhere – which may be the reason his business did not prosper as it should. While working on the ‘coup’ he arrived at our house one day with a number of storage heaters (in the days before central heating) and asked if we could use them? The heavy, brick filled heaters were carted bodily into the house and we started feeding the shilling meter. An hour and a few shillings later, Jimmy assured Jimmy Broon “what’s a few bob as long as you’re warm?” However, three hours later, having fed in £5, the storage heaters were carted bodily out again and back to the coup.
On a fun-filled touring holiday of the Highlands with Jim and his smashing wife, June, who died five years ago, we were driving through thick fog on the way to Wick when Jim suddenly started reciting “January brings the snow, makes your feet and fingers glow….” From beginning to end. On that same trip we stopped to read the inscription on a well in a remote part of Sutherland. It had been erected by the Road Surveyor “…in appreciation for the hospitality of the people in the area.” Jim immediately said “Aye, if he hadne had so much hospitality, maybe the roads would have been a lot straighter.”
Jim never ceased to surprise us. One night when driving home from a gig he gave us the whole of ‘Tam o’ Shanter’, word perfect. When Jimmy was ceilidhing at Jim’s home in Kintillo with Bill Powrie and some other cronies one night, Jim produced a cooked chicken for supper. After it had been enjoyed, someone asked where it had come from, to be told “I got it aff the coup.” He was the only musician who could go to play at a dance at Aberfeldy on a Friday night and not get back till Tuesday! And if there was a dram or a ceilidh going, he was lucky if he got back on Tuesday!
We could fill a book with our memories of Jim Broon and we know that everyone who met his has stories to tell of his exploits. What a character – and how much we shall all miss him.
Box and Fiddle
April 1998
On a fun-filled touring holiday of the Highlands with Jim and his smashing wife, June, who died five years ago, we were driving through thick fog on the way to Wick when Jim suddenly started reciting “January brings the snow, makes your feet and fingers glow….” From beginning to end. On that same trip we stopped to read the inscription on a well in a remote part of Sutherland. It had been erected by the Road Surveyor “…in appreciation for the hospitality of the people in the area.” Jim immediately said “Aye, if he hadne had so much hospitality, maybe the roads would have been a lot straighter.”
Jim never ceased to surprise us. One night when driving home from a gig he gave us the whole of ‘Tam o’ Shanter’, word perfect. When Jimmy was ceilidhing at Jim’s home in Kintillo with Bill Powrie and some other cronies one night, Jim produced a cooked chicken for supper. After it had been enjoyed, someone asked where it had come from, to be told “I got it aff the coup.” He was the only musician who could go to play at a dance at Aberfeldy on a Friday night and not get back till Tuesday! And if there was a dram or a ceilidh going, he was lucky if he got back on Tuesday!
We could fill a book with our memories of Jim Broon and we know that everyone who met his has stories to tell of his exploits. What a character – and how much we shall all miss him.
Box and Fiddle
April 1998