Just a few weeks ago, outside Euston Station, I bought a copy of the Big Issue from a man. He sat under one of those yellowey street lamps. I just had dinner with Hardeep, Chai, Chen, boy Zhi Wei and Shon Lee at Ed's Diner. As I leaned over to give him 2 pounds for the Big Issue, his dog which sat by the side of him startled me by getting up a little and I giggled. He thanked me. He was sitting down and and huddled under sleeping blankets. It was like 5 degrees out and windy. I remember the issue was on Craig David and I flipped through it and giggled at the the classified ad I found at the back. Later in the night, we watched 3 Idiots (which I highly recommend to everyone).
Today I walked by the spot and there was a little sign stuck onto a tree nearby his spot. The sign said, RIP Big Issue Seller, Dermot. There were flowers laid against a tree.
I almost cried there and then. It pains me to think of how he possibly could have died.
I saw a large lost looking dog digging through the Garbage at the Quaker Friend's House later. I could swear it was his dog.
1 comment:
Hi
I saw your blog when I was looking for more information about Dermot, the Big Issue seller. I knew him relatively well in that I used to chat to him several tines a week and sometimes helped him out with clothes and a knee brace. He was the lovliest most gentle person who despite having nothing much himself, ensured his dog Poiric never went without. He always had the blanket for Poiric because he was arthritic and wanted to keep his legs warm.
I am told Dermot comitted suicide. I don't know why. I had not seen him for 2 or 3 weeks as I had not commuted through Euston - he seemed well, had last year got his own flat that he was immensly proud of, but obviously life did not bestow on him the love and lightness he gave out. I am surprised he left Poiric.
His dog is with his very good friend. Dermot left Poiric with him on cold wet days, and in turn used to look after his friend's dog Susie, so he is in good hands so I doubt it was him you saw rummaging.
How stange that we walk past the homless and diposessed every day without a second glance, but something in Dermot charmed all who met him.
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