Farewell Frank, a working class hero is thing to be
I have been immersed in death these past few weeks. First my mother Mary died, then a week later, my good friend and staunchest of comrades, Frank Russell died. I wrote this tribute to him in the Edinburgh Evening News, but it does not really convey the important part he and his wife Janice have played in my life these past 40 years. I will miss him.
Frank was a big fan of Bob Dylan’s, as well as The Beatles so here’s Death is Not the End.
Frank Russell was the best of Edinburgh. A Labour city councillor for more than 20 years. A season ticket holder at Tynecastle, with a favourite spot in the famous Diggers pub (The Athletic Arms). A Broomhouse legend, where he lived for most of his life until a recent move to Musselburgh. A fervent music fan, he supported Edinburgh’s Jazz & Blues festival for decades. A bookbinder by trade, he loved books, particularly crime fiction which he devoured, especially Ian Rankin’s work. But above all, he loved Janice, his wife of more than 55 years, and their small, tight-knit family of two children and four grandkids, not forgetting Bonny, their Westie.
A backroom man
Frank was a quiet man. His main job on the council was heading up the city’s personnel committee during Labour’s heyday in the 1990s and early noughties. Unlike some of his contemporaries, he didn’t seek the headlines. Most of his work was in the backroom. A lifelong trade unionist, he was also a fair boss. He was rigorous in ensuring that the city’s workforce had the best conditions, but at the same time delivered for Edinburgh’s citizens. And for many years, he was chair of the council’s Labour group, a tough task given that he had to manage some rather large egos and more than a few eccentric personalities. It is not an exaggeration to say that Frank’s often low-key, but always wise, approach to Labour’s internal politics probably averted a few disasters for the administration.
And he was a mentor to many young politicians, myself included. He didn’t see new kids on the block as a threat, as many ambitious politicians do. Instead, he and Janice – a brilliant local campaigner – took them under their wing, always quick to offer the best advice. As the Scottish Secretary of State, Ian Murray, said in the wake of Frank’s death last Monday, it was Frank who encouraged him to go into formal politics.
“It was always traditional, after [Labour party] AGMs, to go and have a few pints,” he wrote on Facebook. “I went to the Sighthill Hotel…and after six pints of cider, Frank Russell said to me ‘do you fancy standing for election?’ And I stupidly said yes. I won the council seat. The rest is history, really.”
True to his principles
Ian also echoed many others when he said that Frank had the best political instincts. And that is because he embodied Labour’s true values of community, public service, fairness and aspiration. Labour leaders came and went, in the city council as well as in the country, but Frank held true to his principles. He entered politics, not because he adhered to a rigid dogma, but because he wanted to help build a better community, city and country for everyone, regardless of their background.
Frank was a huge Beatles fan – he was in the audience when they played at Edinburgh’s ABC cinema in 1964. He preferred the melodic genius of Paul McCartney to the more eccentric grit of John Lennon, but there is only one song going through my head when I think of Frank. A working class hero is something to be, wrote Lennon in 1970. Frank Russell was that working class hero.
Watch Lennon’s Working Class Hero