Perennial Embodiment of the Christmas Message: Andrew Mollison
Heartfelt tributes were paid recently at the Sheffield Crown Court to Andrew Mollison, perennial embodiment of the Christmas message: Peace on Earth, Goodwill to Men.
It was perhaps a unique occasion when judges and counsel, led by Judge Jeremy Richardson QC, Recorder of Sheffield, gathered to honour Andrew, nicknamed Senior Court Watcher, by Mr Justice Goose, the former Recorder.[1]
As well as those gathered in court, many more watched via remote link. Tributes were sent from far and wide: from Lords Justices of Appeal, High Court Judges, Circuit Judges, District Judges, Counsel, court staff, security, ushers, clerks, from the Crown Prosecution Service, from journalists and even from his local chippy.
Andrew died at the age of 74. He had no academic qualifications. He never had a job and lived alone at his council flat in Parsons Cross.
Despite that, judges and other lawyers gathered together in even greater numbers than they usually did for eulogies most often reserved for highly qualified men and women who wielded power and influence within our society.
But Andrew touched many deeply. Judge Kelson said that there was only one Andrew, and he meant it in the sense that he only had one face. There was simply no deceit in him. What you saw was what you got. He had an almost childlike transparency.
Yet Andrew could be trusted. He was profoundly loyal. He would travel the length and breadth of the country to support barristers and judges. He could be counted upon.
It was in the 1970s that Andrew first started attending to watch proceedings at the Sheffield Crown Court. In those days he got to know pupil barristers who today were senior judges.
As young counsel progressed, he would follow them. He made trips to the Court of Appeal in London to watch them perform. But hotels were out of the question.
Andrew would travel on the overnight bus. On one occasion when the driver did not know the way, Andrew directed him into London.
When barristers he knew were sworn in as Queen’s Counsel at the House of Lords, Andrew would be seen over the railings waving furiously.
The late Judge Jackie Davies was so fond of him that she took him around the Middle Temple where she was a Bencher. Andrew wore his best high-vis jacket, but things like that never bothered Andrew or Jackie.
Judge Peter Johnson sent a message to say it was always a humbling delight when Andrew came to visit him in Bournemouth where he was a firm favourite with the ushers. When he did so, it was a 3 am start from Yorkshire to Dorset via Victoria Coach Station.
Judge Murphy added that once Andrew travelled all the way to Newcastle to see him on a Friday, the last day of the judge’s sitting, only to find his list had collapsed and the judge had been sent home on the Thursday.
But he stayed to watch the morning list at Newcastle Crown Court, recognising some of the barristers who occasionally sat as recorders in Sheffield, after which he hitchhiked back to Sheffield.
For some, Andrew’s friendship extended beyond the court building and he would occasionally pay visits to the homes of judges and barristers. He never outstayed his welcome and was always a welcome visitor.
Andrew knew everything about the judges and barristers he followed, how their careers were progressing and when many of their birthdays fell. Many would receive birthday cards, congratulations cards and gifts of pens and diaries.
He gave much and asked little in return. Judge Murphy said that Andrew would be missed greatly: “We might have been his family but in a funny sort of way he was part of ours.”
Naz Hussain QC added “That is the nub of it. Andrew was unique, loyal, constant and he was family. He was normality. He was reality. He was honest. He was deeply respectful.
“If everyone behaved towards each other as Andrew behaved to all who knew him, the world would be a better place.
“His generosity was a character trait. Andrew was a religious man and a regular at church. This Christmas his special friends got their gifts before he left us for a better place.”
Andrew’s legacy was not to be found in statute or case law. It was in what he taught us if we were willing to listen.
We did not need pens, Maltesers, diaries, cards, all of which we could have bought for ourselves, but that was not the point.
It was not the item but the sentiment which it embodied. Every small gift from Andrew was, “Hello, how are you? I like and respect you. I value and appreciate what you do”, and even perhaps for a special few “I love and care for you.”
That was the legacy of Andrew: giving small parcels of happiness everywhere he went.
The best way to honour Andrew was this: do not judge a book by its covers. Take a minute and make the effort to listen to all those you meet every day. Remember that even the smallest act can brighten up someone’s day, that sometimes a smile or simply a pen is the perfect act of charity.
God Bless you, Andrew Mollison; rest in peace.
[1] Full transcript to be found on the BAILII website at: EULOGY for ANDREW MOLLISON [2020] EW Misc 28 (CC) (18 November 2020)