AT one point during Alex Salmond’s memorial service, I saw the organist return following one of the speeches with a cup of tea and he got ready to play again.
It struck me that I, like he, was doing a job in a room full of people who were grieving. They were there to mark an occasion, as we were there to provide a service.
I’ll forever remember it as a moment I could understand what Salmond had spent his life doing. A job. His job. Playing his role in the grand scheme of Scotland’s history, trying to improve the country and lives of those who lived in it. No matter his politics, everyone in that room knew he had played his role well.
The majority of the more than 500 people who sat in St Giles' Cathedral had met Salmond while he was playing his role and few understood the man who was a loved one, and a friend.
To hear his niece tell tales of him in his youth and jokes he told in his familial life was a rare and fascinating glimpse behind the public image. To see who attended and how they held themselves spoke volumes to the respect and care they felt for him and his family. To feel the emotion of the room ebb and flow as singers, poets and politicians took to the podium illustrated just how vast, complex and intricate Salmond’s legacy was.
When the organist began to play, the press pool joined attendees to stand and sing. Beforehand, we were the first group who entered the cathedral, to get settled, briefed and be there to witness everyone arriving. While we waited, several journalists reflected and shared their last interviews or phone calls with Salmond.
As people arrived, some known to the public and others not, the cameras captured hugs and handshakes between friends, colleagues and political rivals. The sheer volume of tartan on show was unmissable, and I then noticed several wearing white roses, including Fergus Ewing. The white rose of Scotland or the burnet rose is, next to the thistle, Scotland's most emblematic flower and may have been the source of the Jacobite white cockade.
These elements paired with Dougie MacLean singing Caledonia, the Proclaimers singing Cap In Hand, Sheena Wellington singing A Man’s A Man For A’ That, all while Saltires hung on the pillars, you could truly not have had a more nationalist send off – with the likes of Gordon Brown and Lord George Foulkes having front-row seats for it.
Christina Hendry, Salmond’s niece, was the first speech from the pulpit and – albeit with some neck-craning around the pillars of the cathedral – I saw Hendry standing tall and speaking sure.
“The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” someone later told me. I would be surprised if she doesn’t one day take a seat in Holyrood.
Kenny MacAskill was up next, and he referenced Salmond’s final social media post – “Scotland is a country, not a county” – and he said: “Lambasting those demeaning our land and chastising those supinely allowing it to happen."
First Minister John Swinney, who the post was written about, was sat in the front row. He had already been called a “traitor” by some in the crowd when he arrived.
That sentiment did not fit with what Reverend Dr George J Whyte had urged in his opening prayer: “We will recall together, the vulnerable service given by those who choose to live in the public eye, setting out their ideas, making decisions on our behalf, seeking our vote.
“May we be encouraged to appreciate that which is done for us in the governing of our nation.”
When MacAskill finished, he was met with a rupture of applause. Later, those outside would congratulate him on how well spoken he had been.
When Duncan Hamilton took to the pulpit, he suggested the only thing Salmond would have changed in his pollical career was his resignation following the 2014 referendum.
You could hear mumbles of agreement radiate throughout the crowd, as Hamilton added: “And I wonder how different Scotland would be today."
During the performance of Cap In Hand, one activist – “Annie fae Dundee”, she introduced herself as – took a Saltire out of her bag and waved it as she sang. She was quickly told to put it away.
When we left the cathedral, attendees were smiling through tears at the crowd which greeted them outside. Supporters flew Saltires while MacAskill, Hendry, Joanna Cherry and Alba figures came over to hand their memorial programmes to members of the public.
As First Minister Swinney and his wife returned to their car, he was booed.
It was bitter to see. Witnessing the hurt people feel, and the division that continues to fracture a movement that must find a way to reunite to deliver Salmond’s dream.
