Life

Untimely death not the end of comic Crummey's story

SEÁN Crummey was a special man, modest and charming and brimming with talent. He was a teacher, an entertainer, a political satirist, the creator of the BBC's The Folks on the Hill and a mimic par excellence.

It all began when John Lenaghan got him a spot on Downtown radio, then phoning The Nolan Show pretending to be an irate cleric and it ended in 2012 when, at the age of 53, this much-loved man died from bowel cancer.

But his story doesn't end there. Such was his impact on the people who loved him that they decided his name will live on in the Seán Crummey Memorial Cancer Fund supporting the research work being carried out by Queen's University of Belfast Centre for Cancer Research and Cell Biology.

The money raised, somewhere in the region of £55,000 to date, is funding the meticulous work of Matthew Alderdice, a young Belfast PhD student of 23 who has come to know the Crummey family well and remembers Seán for special reasons.

Matthew's dad David is ex-lord mayor of Belfast, politician and a dermatologist by profession, and his uncle John became Baron Alderdice and took his seat on the Liberal Democrat benches in the House of Lords in 1996, one of the youngest ever Life Peers. "I used to watch The Folks on the Hill, waiting to see my dad making an appearance. Uncle John was often the butt of jokes," Matthew laught. Now Matthew is working on the cancer that killed the creator of the popular television and radio show.

His research concentrates on 'personalised medicine', tailoring therapy to the patient. "Unfortunately therapy can be a one-size-fits-all approach," he explains. "Some people will respond but others are unable to. Our research will help establish who will be physically able to accept drug treatments like chemotherapy and who won't. Then it's a case of looking for other ways of approaching the situation. "Some years ago when I attended a lecture on toxicology and heard of the toxic nature of chemotherapy I was horrified at the side-effects and now I'm excited by the potential this research will have on people's lives."

Matthew plays down his talents. He's a brilliant young man dedicated to his work. "It's a nine-to-five job," he says with a smile. "Although there are many nights when I don't leave until I'm done. Often it's more like 7am to 8pm. There's no way I want to miss that Eureka moment."

Survival rates have doubled over the past 40 years and the Crummey family are pleased with reports that Matthew's research into bowel cancer has received worldwide acclaim. "The project got on it's feet thanks to the memorial fund. There are a number of such funds supporting various cancer research projects in this building including the Heather Clarke Fund set up after her death by her husband Darren."

He gives me a tour, allows me to look through microscopes to see tissue, elsewhere cultures are growing under his watch. "In this section of the lab you could trade in one piece of equipment for a house. And over here," we move into another area, scrupulously clean and sterile, "here you're looking at individual machines worth £50,000 up to £114 million. This is a space where the equipment is the best of its kind and it's a pleasure to work in here."

There are more than 200 researchers in the building on Belfast's Lisburn Road.

Although everyone has a different skill set, they come together as a team.

Matthew explains that they all need each other when it comes to understanding and eventually, hopefully, beating cancer with the help of funds like that set up by Seán's family.

Seán's brother Brendan told me how they established the project. There was immediate support with people offering to run races and hold golf matches. Social clubs and sports clubs were among the organisations that took the fund under their wing. It's no wonder - the entertainer knew everyone.

I suggest that growing up with this brother must have been a lot of fun. "From an early age he was impersonating teachers and pop stars," Brendan said. "He was an impressionist for donkey's years. Some of his favourites were Pope John Paul II and rugby commentator Bill McLaren and of course our local politicians. He also wrote and acted in Stormont, a stage play produced by Martin Lynch at the Theatre at the Mill in Newtownabbey in 2010."

I saw that show and Seán was brilliant playing both Ulster Unionist Michael McGimpsey and Sinn Féin's Gerry Kelly. He must have been a great teacher during his 17 years at La Salle in West Belfast where he was involved in drama and music as well as French class room studies.

The fifth of six children, he grew up in Norfolk Parade on the Glen Road and became a pupil at St Kevin's Primary School aged just three. It was at St Malachy's College Belfast that he discovered his passion for languages.

He graduated from Queen's University Belfast in 1980 with a BA in French and Classical Greek. In the late 90s he assumed the stage name John Day and worked the after-dinner circuit developing his impressions and voice-overs for commercials. It was said at Seán Crummey's funeral that those he mimicked didn't mind; they would never have taken offense because his was a very gentle humour, very clever and never vicious. "He was a compassionate man, modest and shy. We are proud of him and we want to keep his name alive and recognise his role in teaching and broadcasting. "We are also very proud that Matthew is taking that compassion forward through his vital work on cancer research," Brendan says.

* Quiz in the Wellington Park Hotel May 15 and Vintage Fashion show in the Grand Opera House June 4; for fund details see justgiving.com/seancrummey.