Remembering George Randall

Longtime member George Randall passed away on October 31, 2022. He will be remembered for his love of puns, limericks and odd jokes, books, classical and Scottish folk music, and lack of concern for what other people thought of his unique habits. George’s obituary can be found here.

If you have memories of George that you would like to share, please email me. Here are a few I’ve already received.

From Jan Pelmulder in Hawaii:

So very sorry to hear of George’s death. He was my bus buddy on the last SRS tour of Scotland, so I got to know him more than just playing in the Galas. I loved his sense of humor. My condolences to all who loved him.
Aloha, Jan

From Kip Ferguson:

Colorful is indeed a good way to describe George. I had the pleasure of sitting next to him quite often at SRS performances and at rehearsals. He was always quick with a joke or a limerick, and appeared to be really making the most of his time playing with the group. Seldom did he ever miss a show. I will miss him and his twelve-string guitar with the Saint Andrew's flag proudly displayed on the guitar neck. In addition to his guitar playing, he also livened up the energy of our tunes whenever he played the spoons or danced to a march or a Gay Gordon. I know he lived on an island somewhere, but he would travel far and wide for the music as well as the contradancing. 

We miss you, George, but you left us with some fond memories. Safe Home.

From Sylvia Miskoe:

I don't remember when George first appeared on the dance/music scene. He came to all the contra dances and began sitting in with his 12 string guitar. A bit later he joined the Scottish Strathspey and Reel Society. He rarely missed a meeting. He told outrageous jokes and chatted any time there was a break in the conversation.

Teresa Wyman read the following at George’s Memorial:

There is no one in the contra dancing world of central New Hampshire who has done more for a couple of generations of teenagers than George Randall.

George drove untold miles to bring kids to various dances and musical events. He made every effort to see that they had the opportunities to go, year after year, to several annual weekend festivals in Massachusetts and Maine as well as New Hampshire. This meant far more than just transportation in his old car, mended with duct tape (aka "hippie chrome") and with the ARGH license plate. There were hotel rooms, meals, tickets, and the occasional gift for which George would say, "I'm going to get so-and-so a nice ___ at the xyz event, but they'll have to choose it, because I have no taste."

Unbeknownst to most, there were also quiet "private scholarships" to Maine Fiddle Camp, and dues to the Strathspey and Reel Society. George helped more than one kid pay for drivers ed, contributed substantial amounts toward tuition for higher education, or sent money during a difficult time. These have been life-changing for some of our young people. Inasmuch as these "kids" are the carriers of our beloved dance traditions, his generosity has enhanced all of our lives.
At George's home, there were long and deep conversations (was there EVER such a thing as a "short" conversation with George?) about a myriad of topics . Shakespeare plays, mythology, Beowulf, Tolkien, Harry Potter, religion, of course, music and dance, and so much more. (All Including sixth grade level off color humor.) Plus the wealth of practical knowledge and skills, especially skills that were related to his beloved lake, that were imparted to this parade of kids who spent time with George. How many people today can "read" ice and know where it is unsafe? Fell a tree and land it where you intended it to fall? Safely perform a "pantload" (to use George's word) of boating, plumbing, mechanical, and other practical life skills. (Although not including cooking!)

We all miss, and will continue to miss, George. But the loss, I think, is greatest for the younger people in our community, for whom he lovingly did so much. They meant the world to him.