‘Wherever one proceeded with him, there was a seismic shift’: the readers who satisfied David Bowie

Rejected pies, hallucinations, and dinner in Bowies flat in New York. Our readers share their favourite encounters with the Thin White DukeSee all the contributions or include your own here

David Bowie touched numerous lives. His death at persons below the age of 69 led to an outburst of regret across the world, as friends, musical collaborators and devotees alike shared their storages, storeys and Bowie-related recollections.

When we expected our readers to share their own Bowie remembrances, we received hundreds of narrations. From catching a first view of “the mens”( often while watching Top of the Pops) to viewing him live in concert over the activities of the decade, its clear he determined and inspired many lives.

For a skinny crooked-toothed youth in the early seventies, Bowie was a boom, said Jonathan Mark Hauser.

This was a exceedingly repressed era, and he made me realise the world was a bigger and more interesting place.

There is likewise most intimate encounters. It is about to change quite a few of our readers congregated Bowie himself, and have shared a superb array of priceless personal stories that say a lot about the man and the master. Here are some of our favourites out of the stories we received.

My mum cooked him a Fray Bentos pie in 1969

It was Guy Fawkes night and the whole circle was there. He didnt eat the pie.

My mum, Valerie Jubb, and her flatmates went to Bonnyrigg Regal, just outside Edinburgh, on a Friday night to see him play. The party didnt show up as they got lost en route from Perth. My mum and her friends waited in the bar to hitch a ride back to Edinburgh. The circle proved up sometime and they went talking.

Mum and her flatmates belief what the hell and invited them to let off fireworks and for dinner. The strap was staying in nearby Broughton and they consented( her flat was on nearby Northumberland St ). Mum pulled out all the stops with a Fray Bentos pie. She says he ate very few and none of the tart it may have been her fix apparently! Then they let off fireworks in the garden-variety.[ Note for non-UK readers: a quick Google search are likely explain why he didnt touch the pie .]

Space Oddity has only just been been a made that summertime, I conceive. She ever said he was incredibly respectful but distant. Went the intuition he was coming to terms with impending stardom.

Its one of my favourite narratives and Ive very possibly told to all those who had expended more than five minutes in my fellowship. It never occurred to me he would do something as mundane as expiring. Sad day.

By Sara Sanderson

He changed my nappy

In 1969, when I was only a couple of months old-fashioned, my Mum saw an age-old pal Mary Finnigan who was living in Beckenham. I envision Mary and my Mum had been at Ealing art academy together in the mid 60 s and were looking to catch up after a few years at either expirations of London. When they met up at the house she was staying at, Mary interposed my Mum to a certain David Bowie whom she was having a fling with. And, when theyd gone off for a walk together, they left me in Bowies care and, ever the renaissance humanity, he did the accolade when I disgraced myself in the underwear department…

By RonnieOServalan

I was his body painter. And then he changed my life

I fulfilled David Bowie in 1991, in Dublin, on a shoot for[ the Tin Machine] video[ recognize prime representation ]. I was his mas painter.

Three days later he moved me into my first NA( Narcotics Anonymous) meeting in Dublin.

Wherever one get with him, there was always a seismic alter. Space and period changed. Mine, beyond all acknowledgment 😛 TAGEND

Every moment of my world altered in at instant, on that day. I am now nearly 25 times clean and sober. I know I would not be here without that involvement, and all the years working with him, subsequently, reinforced the ability of recovery, restraint and faith in the self.

By Carolyn Cowan

He caressed my hand

It was the summer of 1965 and I was on holiday in Bournemouth with my friend Valerie. We were 15. The Nashville Teens were playing in a concerted effort with several others and we turned up very early to a completely empty passageway. An fantastically handsome young man was performing on stagecoach, talking and moving round. He came over to us and chitchatted for a while, taught us that he was introducing the different acts and too singing his own song. He was towering, scrawny, blonde, entirely alluring and perfectly charismatic. As beings started to arrive he bent to us, caressed our hands and told us to watch him. Needless to say, we forgot all about the Nashville Teens and were mesmerised by a young Davy Jones … And thrilled not long afterwards to examine him grow the famed David Bowie.

Eight years later I was a newly qualified teach in a challenging secondary school and told this story to one of my categories. The next day, the most difficult pupil in the entire academy came racing up to me in the assembly hall. He hurled himself to his knees in front of me, grabbed my hands and expected Miss, is this the side that was caressed by David Bowie? He then kissed it in front of the entire institution, submitted to me…..and my reputation was assured!

My middle refer is Jean, so guess which is my favourite ballad?


Valerie and I on a park fluctuating during that holiday( Valerie is on the left, I am on the right ). Photograph: Dyllis Eddie Wolinski

By Dyllis J Wolinski

He was my babysitter

Growing up in Maidstone in the 1960 s, we didnt get up to London much. But one day my mothers wanted to go shopping in city so we stayed with my older half-sister who was living in a lieu with David Bowie and Marc Bolan. She was seeing Tony Visconti, who was working with T Rex at the time.

It was 1969 and I was only three, but Ive got evocative rememberings of arrived here this big towering building in South London with a huge set of steps. Well, they seemed immense for a three time age-old. The whole family were there me, my older brother, my mum and dad and we stayed the nighttime on the sofa and my sisters spare mattress. The next morning we all woke up and had breakfast and my sister said she had to go to work. It was then we got introduced to this person molted arranged for David Bowie to babysit us.

He took my brother and me to the nearby playground where my sister ran and spent the whole afternoon playing with us on the tyre changes. It was a self-contained undertaking playground with big-hearted mural walls and all kinds of playing chassis made out of timber with soft earth in case you descended. Where we played at home there was just a metal swing and metal slither in concrete.

I remember the bus tour we took there more than I recollect David we got to sit on the top deck claim at the front. My mum would never let us sit there those Routemasters used to take off while you were still clambering up but David Bowie said: Tells go upstairs! He was that sort of guy someone getting on with his life.

When we got back to the house, David and Marc told us play on their instruments. We sat in the kitchen and they accommodated the chords down for us as me and my brother strummed. I have an image of Marc Bolan see over in a cream shirt with burgandy polka dots but all I can remember of David was his guitar a Gretsch with white-hot and gold plated machine heads.

By Colin Hartley

I assembled him in my frequent hallucinations

The most strange Bowie concert I ever received was in 1996. It was his first and last action in Russia, at the Kremlin Palace in Moscow. It was a really strange season. Moscow was awash with money and violence as the KGB and the mafia oppose over the bungles of the Soviet Union. Bowie territory like an immigrant in the middle of it all. Suddenly, there was an announcement that David Bowie, this extraordinary Western star, was going to play there and the new Russian rich came flocking to hear him.

So we were in a small concert hall inside the Kremlin, jam-pack with nouveau-riche who had paid a great deal of money to identify him but had no idea who he was, what he represented or anything about his songs. They were totally bemused, transfixed, glued to their benches but indicating no action at all while in the meantime, a few of us at the back “re gonna go” seeds. It was a characteristically outlandish time in the life of the most eclectic and brightest ace of them all.

There was also a period in “peoples lives” I think it was 2002 -3 after the Heathen Tour where I regularly had hallucinations about David Bowie calling me when he came through Paris( where I live ). He would call, we were able to satisfy in a barroom and he would ask me what his next musical tendency should be! For years I thought it had actually happened. It didnt! The only possible explain( no, I was not on drugs) is that the 2002 gig at Le Zenith( as part of the Heathen tour) had such an effect on me that in some sense it infiltrated into my subconscious. Obsessive? Surely not!

By Alexis Rowell


Speaking the word of Bowies death. Photograph: tsamuel

Touching him was one of the high points of my life


Photograph: Fiona McNeill/ GuardianWitness

In 1987, my father Shane Porteous was a wizard of A Country Practice. We knew it was popular in the UK but were still dazed when his agent rang up and said David Bowie cherishes the testify and would like to meet when hes over here touring. We three kids were in our teens, well-familiar with Bowie, and essentially stood over Shane and said NOT WITHOUT US. So all four of us got backstage overtakes and tickets to the testify. This is the programme with the backstage pass sticker deposited to it. And we fulfilled him.

I was already in love( teenages, pthah) but I stood there and listened to this vibrant, vibrating being with fuzz that saw him taller than my fathers 6 paws talking here wombats in the snowfall and what it was like being an actor, in that voice … oh, that spokesperson. He could speak the phone book and Id buy the album. He was so damn plain NICE. And cute( did I mention teens ??) and charismatic.

Apparently David is( was) unlikely to remember the meeting, due to the 80 s being rather … entertaining … for him. I shall never forget, and I tell the story at every possible minute because its one of the high points of my life. I Stroke DAVID BOWIE.

By Fiona McNeill

It was like having dinner sitting next to a Cambridge Don

My girlfriend and I were just twenty one and twenty three years old respectively, and we both had been working and living in Germany for some time. In the outpouring of 1983, we decided to get away for a week to the German Alps. We were sitting down to dinner at a restaurant that was off the beaten path, so to speak, and the place was dead. There was only one other couple eating there with two children, when up the gravel track came a pair garmented for the red carpet. They proceeded to sit down at the counter next to the americans and both my girlfriend and I were, to give it politely, shitting our breathes. It was David Bowie and Catherine Denuve.

Not wanting to appear like stupids, my lover and I went into a quick mind your forms cluster and tried our very best to deed apathetic about this turn of events. I remembered that his real refer was Jones, so I said, Nice to see you Mr. Jones. At which moment he giggled, and then blithely participated us in communication over dinner and wine-colored for two hours or so.

Disclaimer: I was no love of David Bowie at this quality, I thought he was just another media attention seeking rock virtuoso. But, after hearing him speak about artwork, literature, and culture almost as an academic scholar. I was most impressed. He never once brought up his music or his occupation. It was almost like having dinner sitting next to a Cambridge Don. As he was leaving the restaurant he shook our hands and thanked us for a exquisite evening And then he mentioned that he would be touring the summer months, and if we would like tickets to the demo, he would make sure that they were left at the barrier under my reputation. I of course said that we would appreciate that, and it was a most kind offer of him to do so for us.

So, afterwards that summertime: for sure, the Serious Moonlight Tour was coming to Frankfurt, were we than lived. My lover and I debated whether we should go to the prove and see if he saved his predict or not. We were afraid to go, because of the letdown it might effect, to an otherwise awesome recall of our encounter. After having a row about this matter, we arrived late to the venue and went to the ticket office table and asked if Mr. Jones had left tickets with our call on it, expecting the worst. And lo and behold! He left us two VIP passes for us.

David Bowies theatre persona has nothing to do with the artist David Jones. This was the most difficult lesson I learned from this encounter. He was a consummate gentleman, witty, amusing, and droll in his mentions, and very well speak. After meeting him I became a lifetime booster of the man, and then the creator. Truly a classy Gent.

By Incubatorjones

I wasnt flattered by his friendship, I was improved by it

I fulfilled David at “states parties ” at Jimmy Destris( Blondies keyboardist) apartment on Jones Street in Greenwich Vlllage in 79. We talked for a while about books and music. A couple of weeks later Coco Schwab, his longtime friend and deputy, announced me and invited me to his suite at the Carlyle Hotel. I speculated, Wow. A party at Bowies place. I cant wait to see whos gonna be there. followed immediately by, Wait a time. Im nobody. Why have I been invited?

A few evenings afterward, with much nervousnes, I shaped my behavior there and knocked on the door. Coco let me in. I ambled into the little front room. No one else was there. I guess Im early. No, youre right on time. David will be out in a minute. I seemed around. There was a small counter placed for three. David showed and instantly picked up our speech where wed left off at Destris. It took a minute for me to realize that I was to be the only guest. Coco had cooked a delicious dinner for the three of us. We talked into the night and I went back to my place on Perry Street in The Village , not quite guessing what had just happened. David returned to New York for a few months to act in The Elephant Man. Once a week or so, hed request me up after a conduct, still adrenalined out, and ask to come over to my dumpy little suite and shoot the breeze until he got tired. We grew good friends. He came to my birthday defendant that time and gave me a signed first edition of an Edward Gorey book, which he, David, inscribed to me. I still have it.

I left NYC in 81 soon after his run in the gambling ceased and rapidly lost touch with him. Ive had no contact with him since. I cant express adequately how much our short friendship path back then meant to me and still means to me. His conversation and sentiments were mesmerizing and opened a number of aesthetic and theoretical doorways for me. I wasnt flattered by his friendship, I was improved by it. I guess what Id like to say is that those qualities of his that suffer out to me were that he was unpretentious, intensely intellectual, intellectually thirsty, and straight-up honest. An astonishing husband, rightfully. Rest in quietnes, David. I am so honored to have known you a little.

By bookmanjb

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