Aged just 65 years, the singer, actress and TV personality Linda Nolan, has sadly passed away after a 20-year battle with breast cancer, at Blackpool Victoria Hospital, surrounded by her 3 surviving sisters; Anne, Coleen and Maureen. [Linda’s sister Bernie, sadly died from breast cancer in 2013 last] Her sad demise was brought about this mid-morning (Wednesday January15th), having succumbed to her a battle with double pneumonia.
Linda was first diagnosed with stage-three breast cancer in 2005 before getting the all-clear in 2006. However, in 2017 she was diagnosed with a form of incurable secondary cancer in her hip, which spread to her liver in 2020. In 2022 she shared the news that cancer had spread to her brain, with two tumours identified on the left side of her brain, leaving her struggling with both her speech and balance.
Linda rose to fame, alongside her 4 sisters as a member of the girl band “The Nolan Sisters”, latter the first Irish act (born in Dublin) to sell over a million records worldwide. Having toured the world and selling over 30 million records, Linda later pursued a career in stage musicals. Beyond her incredible early career, Linda dedicated her later life to helping others; raising some £20 million for numerous deserving causes, including Breast Cancer Now, Irish Cancer Society and Samaritans, together with countless others charities.
“Her memory will live on forever in the many lives she touched and in the music she performed.”
Lyrics and vocals: American singer-songwriter Bob Dylan(legally Robert Dylan & born Robert Allen Zimmerman).
The song raises a series of rhetorical questions asked regarding future Peace, War and Freedoms.
Blowin’ In The Wind
“Son of Man, thou dwellest in the midst of a rebellious house, which have eyes to see and see not; they have ears to hear and hear not”. [Ezekiel* Chapter 12: Verses 1–2; one of the major prophetical books of the Old Testament].
Ezekiel* The prophet Ezekiel, before his death around 570 BCE, prophesied the eventual restoration of the Jewish people back again to the land of Israel.
How many roads must a man walk down, Before you call him a man? How many seas must a white dove sail, Before she sleeps in the sand? Yes, and how many times must a cannonballs fly, Before they’re forever banned? The answer, my friend, is blowin’ in the wind, The answer is blowin’ in the wind. Yes, and how many years can a mountain exist, Before it is washed to the sea? Yea, and how many years can some people exist, Before they’re allowed to be free? Yes, and how many times can a man turn his head, And pretend that he just doesn’t see? The answer, my friend, is blowin’ in the wind, The answer is blowin’ in the wind. Yes, and how many times must a man look up, Before he can see the sky? And how many ears must one man have, Before he can hear people cry? Yes, and how many deaths will it take ’til he knows, That too many people have died? The answer, my friend, is blowin’ in the wind, The answer is blowin’ in the wind. END
In his 68th year and pre-deceased by his parents John and Chris, his brother Michael, nephew Robert, and sister-in-law, Rose; Fr Seán passed away suddenly at the Presbytery, Pembroke Road, on Sunday, January 5th., the day prior to his second anniversary of arrival at the Church of the Most Sacred Heart, Ruislip, latter in the London Borough of Hillingdon, in West London, United Kingdom.
TheVideo hereunder was Fr Séan’s parish welcome messageon arrival.
Fr Séan first entered the priesthood, at the former St Patrick’s Theological College, here in Thurles, before being ordained six years later, in 1988, for the Diocese of Westminster.
His passing is most deeply regretted, sadly missed and lovingly remembered by his sorrowing family; brothers Paddy and William, sisters Sarah and Kathleen, sister-in-law Anne, brothers-in-law Pat and Jim, nieces, nephews, and extended family, his dearly loved parishioners, in all six parishes where he served in the Diocese of Westminster and a wide circle of great friends.
For those persons who are unable to attend the funeral service for Fr Séan; please note that from Wednesday afternoon, concluding with Requiem Mass on Thursday, all ceremony’s will be streamed live, online, from the Sacred Heart Church HERE.
The extended Carroll family wish to express their appreciation for your understanding at this difficult time, and have made arrangements for those persons wishing to send messages of condolence, to use the link shown HERE. Note please: Family flowers only, please.
Note Also: A Mass, to celebrate Fr Seán’s life, will be held in the Church of St James, Two-Mile-Borris, (E41 EK15), on Saturday afternoon, February 15th at 1:30pm, followed by the interment of his Ashes in Two Mile Borris Cemetery, Two-Mile-Borris, Thurles, Co. Tipperary.
“Eternal rest grant unto him, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon him”.
Lyrics:American country music songwriter and recording artist Sonny Throckmorton and American songwriter and musician Casey Kelly. Vocals:American country music singer, songwriter, actor, and music producer George Strait.
The Cowboy Rides Away.
I knew the stakes were high right from the start, When she dealt the cards, I dealt my heart. Now I just found a game that I can’t play, And this is where the cowboy rides away. And my heart is sinking like the setting sun, Setting on the things I wish I’d done. It’s time to say goodbye to yesterday, This is where the cowboy rides away. We’ve been in and out of love and in-between, And now we play the final showdown scene, As the credits roll, a sad song starts to play, And this is where the cowboy rides away. And my heart is sinking like the setting sun, Setting on the things I wish I’d done. Oh, the last goodbye’s the hardest one to say, This is where the cowboy rides away. Oh, the last goodbye’s the hardest one to say, This is where the cowboy rides away.
Lyrics: Dublin born Irish writer, songwriter and singer the late Dominic Behan(1928–1989)[brother of Irish poet, short story writer, novelist and playwright, Brendan Behan] Vocals: Irish folk band ‘The Dubliners’ and Ronnie Drew.
Building Up and Tearing England Down.
I’ve won a hero’s name with McAlpine and Costain, With Fitz Patrick, Murphy Ash and the Wimpey’s gangs. I’ve been often on the road on me way to draw the dole, When there’s nothing left to do for Johnny Laing. And I used to think that God made the mixer, pick and hod, So that Paddy might no hell above the ground. I’ve had ganger’s big and tough, Tell me tear it all out rough, When you’re building up and tearing England down.
In a tunnel under ground, a young Limerick man was found, He was built into the new Victoria line. When the bonus gang had passed, sticking from a concrete cast, Was the face of little Charlie Joe Devine, And the ganger man McGurk said “big Paddy hates to work”, When the gas main blew and he flew off the ground. Oh they swore he said “Don’t slack! I’ll not be there until I’m back, Keep on building up and tearing England down!”
I was on the shuttering dam on the day that Jack McCann, Got the better of his stammer in a week. He fell from the shuttering dam, And that poor auld stuttering man, He was never ever more inclined to speak. And I saw auld Bald McCall, from the big flyover, fall, Into a concrete mixer spinning round. Though it wasn’t his intent he got a fine head of cement, When he was building up and tearing England down.
I remember ‘Carrier Jack’ with his hod upon his back, How he swore one day he’d set the world on fire. But his face they’ve never seen, Since his shovel it cut clean, Through the middle of the big high tension wire. Oh no more like Robin Hood when he roam through Cricklewood, Or danced around the pubs in Camden Town. Oh, but let no man complain, sure no Pat can die in vain, When he’s building up and tearing England down.
So come all you navvies bold, Do not think that English gold, Is just waiting to be taken from each sod. Or the likes of you and me will ever get an O.B.E., Or a Knighthood for good service to the hod. There’s a concrete master race for to keep you in your place, And a ganger man to kick you to the ground, If you ever try to take part of what the bosses make, When you’re building up and tearing England down.
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