No Ordinary Politician - MPs Honour Kennedy

No Ordinary Politician - MPs Honour Kennedy

I can't recall another church service ending with the organist playing the Frank Sinatra hits Fly Me to the Moon and My Way as the congregation prepared to depart.

But then Charles Kennedy was no ordinary politician, as his close friends paying tribute at his memorial service at St George's Cathedral, Southwark, emphasised again and again.

Those friends included Jim Wallace, elected MP for Orkney and Shetland on the same day in the 1983 Thatcher landslide as Charles ousted the Tory Energy Minister Hamish Gray in Ross, Cromarty and Skye.

He was just 23. I was 25 and a political correspondent at Westminster for the Press and Journal, the legendary newspaper of the Scottish Highlands. Naturally, we became great pals.

Jim told the story of how Mrs Thatcher asked a new Conservative MP, Michael Forsyth, shortly after the election: "Who's the MP on the Opposition benches wearing white socks?"

Then Radio 4's Jim Naughtie, another highlander from Banff in Aberdeenshire and in those days a Thomson Regional Newspapers colleague of mine for The Scotsman, told how Charles was a natural in a radio studio.

Private Eye's editor and Have I Got News For You panellist Ian Hislop read "Death shall hath no dominion" by Dylan Thomas and showed remarkable restraint by declaring: "No jokes."

My memories of Charles in his early days as an MP include a brilliant day out with him at the Black Isle Show in his constituency, a highlight of the Highlands social calendar.

He said to me: "The thing to do is go round all the hospitality tents. We'll get a drink in each. Let's see how many we can visit!" Despite the hospitality, I can report that we were extremely well behaved.

Not so the chairman of the local police committee. The splash in the P&J the next day revealed how he had been breathalysed after leaving the show and was arrested for being over the limit. How Charles and I laughed.

Not long after that we drove to an SDP conference in Torquay in his sporty little red Toyota singing along at top volume to Bruce Springsteen's Born In The USA, which had been released not long before.

In 1999, when Charles became leader, I interviewed him on the House of Commons terrace for the Sunday Express.

"Who'd have thought we'd be here doing this back in 1983," he said.

It wasn't Springsteen, but David Bowie who was Charles's favourite musician, however, as his former staffer and ex-brother in law James Gurling recalled in his tribute, which he just about got through without faltering after warning us all he might not.

The congregation was a Who's Who of the political establishment, past and present, and a big group of former LibDem MPs who like Charles were defeated in this year's general election.

The Prime Minister arrived and was shown to a seat in the front row.

On the way out of the cathedral at the end of the service he seemed to be on good terms with his former coalition partner Nick Clegg.

John Bercow arrived in his Commons tailcoat with his tall and formerly errant wife Sally. They seemed to be on good terms too. "He has been very forgiving," a peer sitting next to me said with a sigh.

David Davis arrived, almost late, and I wondered mischievously if he was going to be put next to the Prime Minister, who hasn't spoken to his defeated leadership rival for two years, I'm told.

David Owen and Shirley Williams from the SDP's Gang of Four, ex-leaders David Steel and Paddy Ashdown, and former LibDem Cabinet ministers Vince Cable and Danny Alexander were also seated near the front with current leader Tim Farron.

Tory grandee Ken Clarke, like Charles a regular at Ronnie Scott's jazz club, was there, along with Tory Cabinet ministers Patrick McLoughlin and Michael Gove and the chairman of the backbench 1922 Committee, Graham Brady.

The Prime Minister had made time to be there, but Jeremy Corbyn appeared to have sent his deputy, Tom Watson, to represent Labour.

I didn't spot many Labour MPs, though Alastair Campbell, who tried to help Charles with his drink problem, and Peter Mandelson were there.

Listening to the tributes reinforced my long-held view about Charles's leadership of the LibDems that he had two big judgements to make and he got both of them right.

He abandoned Paddy Ashdown's moves towards a pact with Tony Blair's Labour Party and he opposed the Iraq war. Jim Wallace rightly paid tribute to his courage on Iraq.

After the service, Sarah Gurling, Charles's ex-wife, proudly introduced me to their son Donald, who despite all he has been through seemed remarkable bright and cheerful. He looks just like a young version of his father.

No wonder Charles Kennedy was a fan of Sinatra's My Way. He did politics in his own special way.