The curse and legacy of 2016
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I think it's fair to say that 2016 has, on the whole, been pretty rough. Even putting divisive politics aside, we've lost a lot of good people this year. We lose a lot of people every year, but 2016 seems somehow... more. Perhaps it's the calibre of those we've lost. That's not to say the people who died in any other year haven't been wonderful in their own right. Of course they have. All of them. It's just that there seems to be more people this year who have so obviously touched our hearts and lives.
For me the biggest hit came right at the start of the year. As I've written previously, David Bowie was a massive influence on me as a musician. I adore so much of his music, and indeed him as an entertainer. I never saw him, and certainly never met him, but he remained one of those people I always hoped that—one day—I might. It felt good to listen to examples of his brilliant contribution to music and know that he was still in the world somewhere, being Bowie. It's like knowing there are still members of The Beatles out there, even if they're not John Lennon.
But there were other losses too that hit me harder than I ever thought I would. They were losses that it never occurred to me would have any noticeable affect other than a slight feeling of sadness that someone had passed. Without realising, I'd formed a connection, or perhaps a reliance, on some of them. I'd somehow taken for granted that they would always be there. Or perhaps that, given the chance, they would simply wind down their contributions to public life until, when they did eventually go, it wasn't such a blow.
One that surprised me the most was Terry Wogan. Here was this wonderful, gentle giant of a man who had been an ever-present persona on television and radio since before I was born. Here was a man who spent his life trying to entertain and make people smile; a kind and generous man who was much-loved by friends and strangers alike. Even into his seventies, he was still active, still broadcasting and still full of the same good-natured humour he had always been known for. The odd thing is that I wasn't a dedicated listener, or even a regular one. I wouldn't even have considered myself a fan until this year. It was just nice to know he was in the world. Not long before his passing, he had taken a leave of absence; his usual show being covered instead by other broadcasters, each one wishing Sir Terry a speedy recover from whatever ailed him. It was in this spirit that I, and no doubt many others, assumed he would return. The news that he wouldn’t caught us off guard. But then wasn’t that the theme of 2016?
For every loss, I'm sure many of us have cursed this year. We've blamed 2016 for whatever happened as if the year itself had something wrong with it. So much so that, as it nears its end, we're almost unsurprised if we lose some other cherished star. Perhaps in future we'll look back on this year as some kind of prolonged cruelty. But I don't think that's fair. Amazing people die every year. Bad things happen every year. That 2016 has had more than its share of misery is arguably true. Yet what I don't want is to look back on these events as a package deal with a single label. 2016 is a year many would be only too happy to forget. But those we've lost deserve to be remembered as the individuals they were in every year they were with us.