Wednesday 28th January was the 5th Anniversary of the passing of my cousin, Film Director Midge MacKenzie. Midge was the eldest daughter of my mothers eldest sister Margo. She shot to fame as the producer of "Shoulder to Shoulder" - The BBC Drama series about the Suffragette movement. Midge was born in 1938, spent time with family in Ireland during the war, returning to London and leaving school aged 16.
She started work as a secretary, working her way up the ladder. Amongst her many achievements was the last interview with film legend John Huston. There is a great obituary in the Times - http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/comment/obituaries/article1008786.ece.
What the obituary doesn't tell you is how inspiring it is to have such a wonderful cousin. She's buried in Highgate Cemetary and has one of the best plots. At her wake Helena Kennedy was heard to say "How did she wangle that?".
I'll be cracking open a bottle or two of red wine tomorrow night in her memory, along with a few guinness for my Dad who died on the 31th January 1987 and Midges mum Margo, who died three days before my Dad (the stress of flying back from florida for the funeral killed him). As my mum passed away last year, wherever the four of them are, I hope they crack open a few bottles for me as well !!!!!
Hello Rog -- My name is James Ulmer, and I was a student of Midge's at Harvard. After I graduated, Midge, with a generosity as wide as her stetson, put me up in her London flat for a year while I was working at the Beeb (a jog she helped me get). It was a fair trade-- free rent in exchange for painting the four floors of her antique-packed terraced flat, though I thankfully managed to avoid dusting all those Victorian clocks! I'll never forget her vivacious dinner parties, the endless hours with our guinesses picking apart our thoughts on life, liberty, political philosophy, women's movement and, occasionaly, life after Bunny. A couple of times when visiting London, I went up to "our" old house on Barnsbury Street (hardly recognizing the transformed & gentrified Islington!) and knocked on that door. Sadly, she wasn't in, and the last time I came, the postman who was on his rounds stopped a moment and told me the sad news. I just stared through the dining room window and watched all those great ghostly vignettes from 25 years back play through my mind.
ReplyDeleteI feel I've lost a great deal by not having reconnected with Midge after all these decades. Your blog, and those who have written about this magnificent lady, have helped a bit for me to reconnect now, belatedly, and I thank you for that. But I feel sad tonight. Midge died on my birthday, and each birthday from now will be a bit more melancholy at the thought of her being gone. Or is she? Tonight (sadly, no guiness in hand) I;m thinking about all our laughs and long talks together, the help and advice she so freely doled out to her students -- and those furs, those hats! -- and as those memories unspool I get inspired to "get on with it" as she'd say and complete my own documentary here in L.A.
So no regrets tonight. Just thanks to Midge and to you, Rog, for your post that gave me this opportunity to express a little of what I never got to tell Midge after so many years gone by. Best wishes to you! PS & Congrats to Midge for wangling the best plot in Highgate!
Hello Rog -- My name is James Ulmer, and I was a student of Midge's at Harvard. After I graduated, Midge, with a generosity as wide as her stetson, put me up in her London flat for a year while I was working at the Beeb (a jog she helped me get). It was a fair trade-- free rent in exchange for painting the four floors of her antique-packed terraced flat, though I thankfully managed to avoid dusting all those Victorian clocks! I'll never forget her vivacious dinner parties, the endless hours with our guinesses picking apart our thoughts on life, liberty, political philosophy, women's movement and, occasionaly, life after Bunny. A couple of times when visiting London, I went up to "our" old house on Barnsbury Street (hardly recognizing the transformed & gentrified Islington!) and knocked on that door. Sadly, she wasn't in, and the last time I came, the postman who was on his rounds stopped a moment and told me the sad news. I just stared through the dining room window and watched all those great ghostly vignettes from 25 years back play through my mind.
ReplyDeleteI feel I've lost a great deal by not having reconnected with Midge after all these decades. Your blog, and those who have written about this magnificent lady, have helped a bit for me to reconnect now, belatedly, and I thank you for that. But I feel sad tonight. Midge died on my birthday, and each birthday from now will be a bit more melancholy at the thought of her being gone. Or is she? Tonight (sadly, no guiness in hand) I;m thinking about all our laughs and long talks together, the help and advice she so freely doled out to her students -- and those furs, those hats! -- and as those memories unspool I get inspired to "get on with it" as she'd say and complete my own documentary here in L.A.
So no regrets tonight. Just thanks to Midge and to you, Rog, for your post that gave me this opportunity to express a little of what I never got to tell Midge after so many years gone by. Best wishes to you! PS & Congrats to Midge for wangling the best plot in Highgate!