Blessing Blackburn Musical ~ Installment 2

“I know that there is nothing better for men than to be happy and do good while they live. That everyone may eat and drink, and find satisfaction in all his toil – this is the gift of God.” (Ecclesiastes 3:12-13)

Guest Blogger ~ Marie Sheahan Brown

Monday, 3/26/12
12:00 noon on the train to Newcastle

“Notice serendipity and report it” is one practice of living in kairos time.

Serendipity illuminates yet another gift Susan brings.

My lovely seatmates on the packed B747 flying from SFO to LHR were an attractive young woman and her mother. I normally don’t socialize on airplanes, but something about their casual, practical attire; their fitness; their ease with the crowded conditions, reminded me of Oregonian relatives and friends. They looked friendly and, after stowing my backpack under the seat at my feet, I said, “Okay, now, here we go.” And the conversation began.

Jessica, a fifth-year student at the University of Oregon in Eugene, is majoring in theater arts with emphasis on costume design. Janet, a former actress, is a theater professor in Eugene who teaches Shakespeare to at-risk and to gifted students in grades 6 through 12.

The London-bound duo obviously enjoys each other’s company. Jessica will live with a host family for the next three months and will participate in a special course offered by a knowledgeable University of Oregon professor. The group will visit historic and modern Meccas of theater. Janet will settle her daughter in at her temporary home then visit Shakespearean sites for the next few weeks. For each, this theatrical pilgrimage is a dream come true.

All of this I learned in the first 30 seconds.

So, I took a deep breath and revealed, “I am joining nearly 100 friends from 15 countries and 20 American states who are going to Newcastle for opening night of the musical, I Dreamed A Dream, about the life of Susan Boyle.”

I reported on the positive tweets beginning to pour in after the first preview, just hours earlier in real time.

The pair – who of course knew of Susan and actually knew something of her life – was delighted that a new live theater production was attracting a worldwide audience. “We would like to think that theater is not a dying breed,” said Janet.

Between catnaps during our 10-hour flight, Janet, Jessica and I discussed their passion for live theater.

Janet reported that many of her students have difficulties in the regular public schools and so are transferred to alternative schools where Janet teaches. “Learning Shakespeare is like learning a second language,” she said. “It engages their brain synapses in new ways, and their overall test scores improve.”

She also told of one boy who found it painfully difficult to speak up in class. However, playing roles of Shakespearean characters, he could speak fluently and comfortably, using different accents, because the persona – not himself – was on display. That improved his general self-confidence.

I posited that, perhaps, the camaraderie that develops among cast and crew producing a play could serve as a healthy alternative to young people who might be drawn to the pseudo-community offered by gangs. Janet affirmed this, citing experience with some of her students.

Jessica’s passion for theater costume design began as a young child, when she would draw elaborate costumes for fun. She, herself, was born one month prematurely, before a certain aspect of vision could develop. Fortunately, her parents sought and found vision specialists that trained the parents to work with Jessica to overcome this barrier. She speaks enthusiastically of her mother’s ability to engage young people from all walks of life in the theatrical classics.

I felt uplifted by these two women, who found their passions – their “who I was born to be” – early in life and are following them for the benefit of other people. Quoting a Susafan Facebook friend who wrote to me recently, “I just love goodness!!!!”

This airplane-seat education gave me even greater appreciation for Elaine C. Smith and the other professionals who have invested their talent and energy into a classic art form. Now, they have risked directing this creativity to a brand new musical about the early life and budding career of one of the most inspiring women of our time.

Indeed, I would like to think that I Dreamed A Dream will demonstrate that good theater, far from being “a dying breed,” can serve the world in unexpected beneficent ways.

“I know that everything God does will endure forever; nothing can be added to it and nothing taken from it. God does it so that men will revere Him.” (Ecclesiastes 3:14)

Blessing Blackburn Musical ~ Installment 1

“A time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance.” (Ecclesiastes 3:4)

Guest Blogger ~ Marie Sheahan Brown

Sunday, 3/25/12
1:15 am in Blackburn, Scotland

In the fullness of time, Susan Boyle was ready for the world, and the world was ready for Susan. This is kairos time – God’s time – which interacts with but is not governed by the chronos time that wants to rule the world.

Chronos can be a fickle master: Two weeks ago in California, I set my watch one hour forward for Daylight Savings Time in the Pacific Time Zone. That and the SamTrans 292 bus helped get me to the San Francisco Airport on time for my Friday-evening flight. Remarkably, like full-uddered cows congregating at the milking barn at precisely the right hour, hundreds of other United passengers converged on cue at the departure gate. Yesterday en route from California to London, I set my watch seven hours forward to match the mother of all time zones – Greenwich Mean Time – so not to miss my flight to Edinburgh. A kind friend who had offered to drive me from the airport to Blackburn arrived at 6:30 on the dot as planned. About 15 minutes ago, I set my watch yet another hour forward because Daylight Savings Time just started in the United Kingdom.

Meanwhile, the sun, moon, and stars God created move placidly in their apparent orbits around Earth oblivious to our clocks. My own body has no intention of settling down for a good night’s sleep at 5:15 pm – even though my mind knows breakfast will be served in a few hours at 7:30 am, which is really 11:30 at night, according to my stomach. Chronos is a fickle master, indeed.

Because this tyrant-at-times governs much of my present daily life, I have decided to observe the next 10 days in a kairos way by attuning to synchronicity and participating in God’s design for this time in West Lothian and Newcastle. Aside from necessary bows to Chronos (I have, after all, a few planes and trains to catch, B+Bs to check into, Masses to attend, curtain times to honor, pre-paid meals to share with the fan community), I have left most hours open and unplanned. Already I feel relaxed and poised for adventure.

Three years ago, 48-year-old Susan Boyle lived her quiet, devout, financially strained life with her cat, Pebbles, less than a mile from my little room here at the Burnview Bed and Breakfast. She was famous only in West Lothian, where the locals knew of her astonishing voice and established ways. She and the townsfolk shared intersecting daily orbits in Blackburn and the collection of villages. All was much the same as it had been since the cataclysm (for Susan) of Bridget Boyle’s death in 2007 at age 91.

Until, in the fullness of time, “I dreamed a dream….”

“He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the hearts of men; yet they cannot fathom what God has done from beginning to end.” (Ecclesiastes 3:11)
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Blessing Blackburn NYC ~ Installment 2

“Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse.” (Romans 12:14)

Guest Blogger ~ Marie Sheahan Brown

Thursday, 11/26/09
4:08 pm near San Francisco, California

“Love and blessings, Susan Boyle”

I saw her autograph on two different fans’ memorabilia. She writes the person’s name and then, “Love and blessings, Susan Boyle.”

Words are living things. Once uttered or written or even communicated nonverbally, they discharge energy, create waves of effect, and cannot be taken back. Consider the power of the Word made flesh. Consider the malevolence of a curse, the damage wrought by an internet troll, a schoolyard bully, an undermining gossip, a cruel tabloid reporter. Consider then – please – the magnanimous transforming energy of a multitude of small blessings. We each carry such power and responsibility.

I don’t know the reasons Susan Boyle chose as her standard closing, “Love and blessings, Susan Boyle.” I would like to think she knows or intuits exactly what she is doing.

The priests of her cherished religion carry a special power to bless all kinds of things: marriages, houses, babies, pets, large crowds. Non-ordained people do not diminish or usurp this priestly role by their everyday actions and words of blessing. Sacred Scripture testifies that the Creator and Lord of the universe has granted each citizen a share of power and expects us to use it for good. St. Paul in Romans 12:14 urges, “Bless those who persecute (you), bless and do not curse them.”

In the heart of New York City this past weekend, some 100 identified Susan Boyle fans congregated from around America and other countries to support and appreciate Susan’s first solo appearance on the world stage. At Rockefeller Plaza early Monday morning, thousands of unidentified fans showed up from the highways and byways. Millions of world citizens tuned in on television or internet. The vast majority of these have already experienced “love and blessings” from Susan Boyle. Wow. And there’s more to come.

On Monday morning, for the first time since she unwittingly unleashed the worldwide Susan Boyle Phenomenon, the Scottish songbird wasn’t just one performer among many. She wasn’t pre-taped with the comforting fudge factor of editors able to choose and tailor the best performance. Monday morning at Rockefeller Plaza, Miss Susan Boyle was the performer. She had to stand and deliver live before the world. Imagine the pressure on this wee lassie from Blackburn, Scotland, who is much more petite than I had imagined, just a little over five feet tall.

The NBC Today Show’s official videos capture the love radiating from the sea of faces Susan beheld. As a member of that audience, I know – I hope – she felt our unabashed love. She interacted playfully with us before and after each song, her charmingly childlike spirit free to express itself with no fear of judgment. She seemed relaxed yet exuberant. She was among friends, was she not?

Like fire, love and blessings gain warmth with mutuality. The Susan Boyle Phenomenon isn’t only Susan loving and blessing us with her gorgeous voice and sweet autographs. We love and bless her, too, and one another. The delightful gathering of fans in New York City, just seven months after we first came to know each other’s avatars and handles on the internet, testifies to the truth that genuine love and blessings are not only possible but powerfully real even in a world wracked by malice, violence, and fear.

One of my favorite quotes from Clarissa Pinkola Estés, Ph.D., describes what Susan Boyle started when she took that bus to Glasgow on January 21, 2009, and declared, “I’m going to sing for you on Britain’s Got Talent today”:

One of the most calming and powerful actions you can do to intervene in a stormy world is to stand up and show your soul. Soul on deck shines like gold in dark times. The light of the soul throws sparks, can send up flares, builds signal fires ... causes proper matters to catch fire. To display the lantern of soul in shadowy times like these — to be fierce and to show mercy toward others, both — are acts of immense bravery and greatest necessity. Struggling souls catch light from other souls who are fully lit and willing to show it. If you would help to calm the tumult, this is one of the strongest things you can do.

Susan carries her power of “love and blessings” humbly. She knows their source in the kindly mighty God she worships. She understands what it means to be an instrument, to be “Who I Was Born to Be.” She experiences the world’s thirst as sometimes “surreal,” sometimes “overwhelming.” We have witnessed, felt, and stood with her in tears and elation. I, personally, have sensed a mature, nurturing solitude in her life alongside her obvious devotion to family and friends. Her spare, direct words in interviews and the handwritten comments on her album demonstrate intelligence and the keen perception born of contemplation.

A very good spiritual director I know says of Susan Boyle, “She is self-authorizing.” She knows her gift – honed, honed, honed to perfection over decades of world obscurity. She kept on going through the defeats wrought by people of shallow judgment. She kept listening to the loving, encouraging voices of her mother and her God. She kept listening to her own voice. She developed courage and strength to go on. She kept singing for free to “make people happy.” She kept giving “love and blessings.”

Susan is who she is, and she has many sides.

In person, I experienced the unedited Susan. I fell in love again with a new tenderness, a renewed desire to shield her from insensitive cads of any gender or profession. This determined, resilient woman who “just kept going” has the spirit and unfettered candor of a child.

The kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.

Her demonstrative comical humor can startle and puzzle people who aren’t paying attention to its subtle brilliance. She lays her head tenderly on the shoulder of one she senses is kind. She looks directly into the eyes of a stranger who says, “thank you,” and draws the stranger’s face to her cheek. Cor ad cor loquitur. Heart speaks to heart. She cries easily when vexed or heart-touched. She play-acts dialogues with her sweet wee Pebbles. Those of superficial judgment who rate and berate her according to boring rules of social propriety miss the gift altogether. Larger hearts notice that, despite everything, never have we heard the once-bullied Susan speak unkindly of another, although she has learned to “defend her corner.”

A friend of mine observes, “She has set up no superstructure of image.” Susan is uniquely and completely Susan. She is the very “love and blessings” of God to us.

What return shall we make?

I suggest the simple hospitality of unconditional love, understanding, and acceptance.

With unbearable poignancy, Susan sings her own answer in her first-ever professional album:

Why can’t you say you love me as I
Say you want me as I am
Say I’m someone in your eyes….
I’m on my knees so help me please
Please don’t shoot me down
Though you can’t see it now,
Someday I’ll make you proud.

This morning near San Francisco, we opened our Thanksgiving prayer at SVdP’s Catherine’s Center with Susan’s rendition of “Up to the Mountain.” Each of us then shared three things for which we are grateful. Many tears spilled in this room full of women seeking to change their lives after sometimes decades of the revolving doors of jail and prison.

Some days I look down
Afraid, afraid I will fall…
But I hear your, your sweet voice
Oooh
Come and then go
Come and then go
Lord, telling me softly
You love me so.

Yesterday, I played this same song for two of our alumnae visiting briefly. I then showed them Susan’s 500-million-YouTube-viewed audition and the Today Show performance.

Diana exclaimed, “The world needs Susan Boyle!”

And Tiffany, “God chose the weak of this world to confound the strong.”

Diana: “It was for such a time as this that she was called….”

These women’s lives testify to the knee-bending reality of suffering, grace, and redemption that imbue Susan’s voice with its power.

Susan, your music reaches our depths and heights. Your “love and blessings” do profoundly more than “make people happy.”

Thank you.

Blessing Blackburn ~ The Sequel ~ Installment 8

“Rejoice with those who rejoice, and weep with those who weep.” (Romans 12:15)

Guest Blogger ~ Marie Sheahan Brown

Tuesday, 9/8/09
12:48 pm somewhere over the North Atlantic

By early Monday, just after midnight, Leslie and I had decided, “Why bother going to bed at normal Blackburn time?” We’d be flying back to America soon, where our body clocks were more aligned to the night-shift hours we’d been keeping.

Besides another fine Scottish breakfast, one other item hovered on the morning agenda. In my haste to get to Mass on Sunday, I had forgotten Leslie’s camera; hence, I hadn’t gotten a photo of the framed musical score.

I slipped into Susan’s church for the Communion service that about 20 parishioners take turns leading when the priest is on deck in other parishes. I was beginning to recognize faces of the regulars, including the silver-haired lady who’d stopped in to pray days before. They would be among Susan’s daily companions, decade after decade.

After the service, I approached the distinguished-looking man in charge this morning. Joe easily found The Gift in the vestry, and I took the photo. Then we chatted.

Leslie and I didn’t go to Blackburn as investigative reporters to pry about Susan, her family, or people who might be friends. We went to bless and be blessed, to experience, not to snoop. Nevertheless, when I told Joe about our reasons for being here, he noted his long friendship with Susan’s parents. In an interconnected village and church, families know each other long and well. Joe volunteered that Susan’s mother was a wonderful artist, which I had not heard before.

Joe’s internet-savvy, so I gave him the blog address. Hello, Joe, if you’re reading this! Thanks for your kind hospitality.

On return to the Burnview B and B, I thought, “Hmm. As long as my hours are weird anyway, I might as well take a morning nap” – which stretched into early afternoon. It was time to blog, and I needed coffee. Leslie said the library, Blackburn Connected, has a coffee machine – 50 pence a cup.

As I walked along the Bathgate-Blackburn road, two older gentlemen across the road hailed me over. Jim and Michael had seen me in church the day before. (See what I mean by everyone knowing everyone else? A new face really stands out!) They were a delightful pair, good pals for more than 50 years; their wives, too, I gathered. To me they represent the rich possibilities of life in a village.

We three kept walking toward “downtown.” They stopped to chat with some ladies waiting for the bus. I, personally, value this aspect of village life – having grown up and even spent recent years in a tiny forest community in Oregon. http://www.metoliusriver.com/. My casual daily encounters with friends on trails and at the store/post office provided connection and belonging, a pattern of life that I love. Susan would know the treasure of this, too.

At the library in the small mall, I realized that “Blackburn Connected” means more than connecting to the internet or printed sources. It’s another meeting place (besides the parish or the pubs) where the locals can connect just by showing up, no appointments needed. Even non-locals like Leslie and I could show up and feel welcome.

In fact, as I was blogging at Blackburn Connected, a steaming paper cup of espresso at hand, who should walk in but Hugh. “I thought I might find you or Leslie here,” he said. As usual, he offered perspicacious insights on local news. But his real reason was just to say, “Farewell, and have a safe journey.”

On April 10 this year, Leslie and I never imagined we would share budding friendships with people in West Lothian, Scotland, thanks to Susan and the remarkable connecting power of YouTube and the internet. Indeed, such connections can be faceless, impersonal, rude, exploitive, trashy, even dangerous. But with underlying motives of sincerity and goodness, most of us on worldwide fan sites dedicated to Susan Boyle are fostering genuine friendships with people we would love to meet one day – at a concert, a fan gathering, or even at Blackburn Connected.

We fans are experiencing the power of the written word for good or for harm; thus, our obligation to wield this power with sensitivity and respect. Our words present us to the world, a source of news and opinion. Now we all are journalists obligated to uphold the dignity and honor of our vocation.

In a while, Leslie showed up – and instantly recognized Kiera, the 11-year-old poet, who had come in with her mom to log on to the internet. How fortuitous! Leslie handed them Kiera’s much-folded poem about Susan and mentioned that several impressed fans, well known in our virtual community, want to write encouraging notes to her. Kiera’s mom gave us an email address to use, which she, the protective mom, always supervises. (Good on ye, mom!)

The library closed at 5:00 p.m. As Leslie and I left, the friendly but not-to-be-messed-with Mill Centre guard approached. During our Japanese TV interview, he had told us of visits to America, including San Francisco. He asked (as many had) how we were enjoying our stay. Of course, we were loving it!

We walked kitty-corner across the road to the Happy Valley for lemonade and, perhaps, a bit of pool. I’d read of Leslie’s sharkly exploits during her June visit. We hadn’t played pool together since our brother’s wedding in 2003. Was I a bit nervous? “Yea, sure, now!” Good thing her pal John was there, and his pool-playing-buddy Rob, who proposed a team match – like mixed doubles in tennis.

Ever notice that beginner’s luck can kick in again after a few years? Well, lucky for me, it did – for the first few shots. After that, it didn’t matter. At least I didn’t embarrass my twin by ripping the felt! She and John won graciously.

The village pubs don’t serve pub grub, and Leslie and I were hungry. We headed toward The Qualifryer Fish & Chicken Bar attached to The Mill Centre, and I was determined to try the Haggis Pudding. Alas, The Qualifryer was closed. Next time, perhaps.

Good fortune arrived on bicycle tires. Two of the sweet, lively girls Leslie and Del had met in June spotted us and rushed over to greet us. They offered to find the traveling chip trailer. Off they raced on their bikes, reminding us of ourselves at their age. After trawling the neighborhoods of Blackburn for 10 minutes, they returned – not a chip trailer in sight. We thanked them anyway for their efforts, and once again they hopped on their bikes.

We had opted for Chinese takeaway, just across the parking lot from The Qualifryer. The owner was sweeping the speck-less sidewalk as we approached. Chinese take-out menus seem much the same in San Francisco, New York City, and Blackburn, West Lothian, Scotland. Salivating at mental images of fried rice and mushroom chicken, we suddenly felt two presences beside us: our helpful little friends! The least we could do was spring for their favorites – chips and curry sauce.

Leslie and I asked for chopsticks, expecting packets of disposable wooden ones. The owner nodded, went back to the storeroom, and, after many minutes, returned with real chopsticks (for a small addition to our tab), which Leslie and I now keep as souvenirs.

We finally parted trails with our local scouts and headed back to the Burnview. Mmmm. Chinese takeaway never tasted better than on our tiny table between the twin beds.

Just then, Stevieboy49 arrived as planned. This was our last opportunity to check in at the Happy Valley Pub, to say, “adios amigos.” I also had a book to return to Delizia and a couple more Harper’s Bazaars for the denizens.

We were happy to find Jock the pool player there, along with his lovely bride, Debbie. We handed him his very own copy of HB, into which he immediately burrowed at the table next to Susan’s, fascinated and delighted by the article and pictures. Leslie got a priceless photo, which she has since emailed to Harper’s Bazaar.

Leslie and Del’s knowledgeable acquaintance Tony, who had regaled them on local history in June, had been out of town for a few days. Tonight, he was in the pub. He and Stevieboy49 had much in common to discuss, though monolithic their views were not. Tony operates from deep passion for the underdog, while Stevieboy49 mines history for truth from all perspectives. We can report, both men of passion live for goodness and justice.

I think that’s one reason both of them, and others, accept Leslie and me. It’s not that Leslie and I are so good; it’s that we care about what they care about, in our own ways. We both have found our life callings working alongside people who are underdogs. Currently, she heads a small non-profit ministry among recent Russian-speaking immigrants; I serve with the Society of St. Vincent de Paul in a program for women seeking new life after jail or prison.

Historically, many, including Susan’s parents, immigrated to Blackburn from Ireland and elsewhere. Perhaps through their own experiences or family stories, the locals we met can relate to the hardships Russian-speaking immigrants face, and how they might appreciate a Native American guide in Brooklyn, New York.

The Society of St. Vincent de Paul business card identifying my backpack served as a passport with some of the locals, including Tony. They know SVdP firsthand and even have a Frederic Ozanam Club in Susan’s church. The world of goodness is, indeed, a small world.

After Stevieboy49 deposited us at the Burnview B and B, Leslie and I tiptoed upstairs to our cozy Twin Room. It was after midnight, but neither of us wanted to sleep through the last few hours of our Twin Adventure in Blackburn. I drank hot Airborne while she drank tea. We began sorting through the day’s digital photos, reminiscing, thinking of captions. We caught up with the fan site and YouTube pub news. We typed a few blogthoughts for further development.

Sometime after 3:00 am, almost reluctantly, we curled up under our duvets for catnaps before dawn.

Blessing Blackburn ~ The Sequel ~ Installment 6

“‘For the bread of God is He Who comes down from heaven and gives life to the world.’ Then they said to Him, ‘Lord, give us this bread always.’ And Jesus said to them, ‘I am the bread of life. He who comes to Me shall never hunger, and he who believes in Me shall never thirst.’” (John 6:33-35)

Monday, 9/7/09
2:15 pm in Blackburn, Scotland

Yesterday was Sunday, another busy day spent mostly outside of Blackburn. We purposely limited our non-Blackburn days to only 2 out of the 6 that we have been here, but wanted to see some of the main attractions in the central region of Scotland – places probably very familiar to Susan. Before our trek to Edinburgh for the day, Marie followed through on the special gift for Susan’s church. Here is her report as a guest blogger.

Guest Blogger ~ Marie Sheahan Brown

The Gift Economy And The Bread Of Life

A couple of years ago, I read Lewis Hyde’s remarkable book about the gift economy. Its beginning chapters describe the Native American understanding of property as something to be given away, from one person or tribe to another, to foster expanding circles of good will, appreciation, and care for others. In this gift economy, a chief was considered rich according to how much he could give away rather than accumulate for himself. The appeal of this practice must be encoded in Leslie’s and my Chinook Indian genes and in the cultures of countless other Susan Boyle fans worldwide.

Sister Suzanne Toolan’s gift, of which I was the West Lothian courier, perpetuates the gift economy. Susan Boyle’s family, village, and church first nurtured and appreciated the gift that has embraced the planet. People who have been inexplicably touched by Susan’s voice and authenticity want to give back in the ways they can.

I attended Mass on Sunday morning at Susan’s church. Sure enough, accompanied by an organist, the whole assembly sings. I had told Father about The Gift on Friday, and he spotted me carrying a brown-paper-wrapped flat package to a forward pew. He had thoughtfully arranged for the assembly to sing I Am The Bread Of Life after Communion both Saturday night and Sunday morning. Blackburn is blessed by many good voices!

At the end of Mass, Father announced The Gift from Sister Suzanne. “News of singing in this area has reached the shores of America,” he began.,,,, , khkj

(How cute. I stepped away from my table in the Blackburn Connected library and came back to find a blond-haired, blue-eyed toddler in my chair, typing away on my laptop; hence, the hieroglyphics. An aspiring author!)

Back to Sunday Mass. After Father spoke, I went forward and handed him Sister Suzanne’s gift for the community. He told the people it would be placed in the entryway. I would like to think that parishioners and pilgrims will be reminded of the world’s appreciation, conveyed through I Am The Bread Of Life.

“‘I am the living bread which came down from heaven. If anyone eats of this bread, he will live forever; and the bread that I shall give is My flesh, which I shall give for the life of the world.’” (John 6:51)

Blessing Blackburn ~ The Sequel ~ Installment 5

“Now therefore, be wise, O kings; be instructed, you judges of the earth. Serve the Lord with fear, and rejoice with trembling.” (Psalm 2:10-11)

Saturday, 9/5/09
10:35 pm in Blackburn, Scotland

After the filming and all of our enthusiastic conversations with Susan’s young fans, we walked back to our room at the Burnview and discovered that Deadline News TV had already posted a video on their site and on YouTube. The clip was brief but well-produced, and we were happy that the overall message of the film itself was accurate.

The purpose of Japan Broadcasting Corporation was to document certain aspects of the worldwide Susan Boyle phenomenon, and our already-planned trip as fans represented that in some ways. As we walked all around Blackburn, we encountered fans who were either looking for us already, or happy to meet us and talk about Susan and receive Susan buttons and Harper’s Bazaars. Indeed, most tourists visiting Susan spots on their own would experience fan solidarity in this way – from place to place, rather than as a group starting at one location and moving through en masse to the end. Fans watching the video (or reading this blog) could picture themselves in our shoes. Marie and I had known the evening before that many local fans were planning to be at the Happy Valley, rather than the small mall, for the filming. That is exactly what happened. And even after the filming was finished and lunch was served, a whole new wave of genuine Susafans found us – the excited school kids whose classes had ended just a few minutes prior!

We spent the next several hours at home, writing blog posts and preparing photos for uploading. I always know that I need to keep going, just keep on going, baby steps, to blog during my visit to Blackburn. I’m happy that Marie is on hand to help (or at least not to mind my typing away at night while she is trying to sleep)! We took a break of a few hours so we could visit the Happy Valley again with fan forum friend Stevieboy49, and we also visited Moran’s – another karaoke venue for Susan. At Moran’s, our YouTube Susan’s Pub friend, Hugh, greeted us warmly, and it was fun to be part of the actual meeting of Susan Boyle fans who participate in separate Susan Boyle internet forums.

Returning home, we analyzed a bus schedule that was supposed to take us from Blackburn through Bathgate and ultimately to Linlithgow in the morning. We settled on the perfect routes and timing needed to reach Linlithgow Cross by 9:30, where we would meet Stevieboy49 and his lovely wife Irene. Then I continued writing the blog so fans could ruminate on Friday’s details while we were off incommunicado, touring the countryside on Saturday.

We awakened bright and early on Saturday, grabbed a couple of breakfast bars, ran through the rain to the bus stop a few minutes ahead of schedule, and eventually realized that the hourly bus had already come and gone. What if the same thing had happened to Susan on her way to Glasgow for the BGT audition?! Global nightmare! In our case, as time passed and no other buses were coming, we decided that we would have to find a taxi. I tried to call the taxi company whose simple number I knew by heart, but couldn’t master the international dialing. We knocked on the door of a shop that wasn’t yet open, and the lady inside very kindly talked to us anyway and agreed to call the taxi. The friendly driver finally arrived, and after 25 minutes of winding through the lovely green sheep-inhabited hills, we reached Linlithgow Cross – 40 minutes early! Time for coffee!

Stevieboy49 and lovely Irene arrived as scheduled, and explained that Linlithgow Cross was not so-named because it was a crossroads, but because of a literal cross that had stood in the middle of this charming town square in ages past. Now there is an ornately carved stone monument.

Linlithgow Palace had been the summer home of the Stewart kings and queens of Scotland since the early 1400s. We learned that a castle is a fortified dwelling, while a palace is much less secure. This palace compound includes a lovely old church that still functions as an active Church of Scotland parish today. The church itself represented Scotland’s transition, pre-reformation to post-reformation. A list of the church leaders from 1240 to the present day hangs on a wall inside, showing that transition. Kings and queens worshiped there, and now regular Scottish citizens and visitors do so, too!

The oft-remodeled and expanded palace was the birthplace of Mary, Queen of Scots (not the same person as “Bloody Mary”). As we walked through the rooms, now roofless after ancient fires had burned away the timbers, we could imagine the gracious living of royal families taking impressive summer holidays away from their main castles in Edinburgh or Stirling. Linlithgow Palace is situated on a peaceful lake (loch), and in the distance are the gentle hills still laden with crops and livestock. It was a place of heartache, too, as royal families suffered battle losses in a seemingly endless cycle of wars and conquests. We climbed to the top of a tower where Queen Margaret Tudor waited in vain, day after day, for her husband, King James IV, to return safely from battle against the forces of her own brother, King Henry VIII of England. Sadly for Margaret, her husband had perished – and the next year, 1514, she herself would have to flee her homeland. Eventually, one king from this family – James VI, the only child of Mary, Queen of Scots – became the ruler of all England, and departed for London. Wikipedia has this fascinating entry: “In May 1601, King James VI of Scotland attended the General Assembly of the Church of Scotland at St Columba's Church in Burntisland, Fife, at which proposals were put forward for a new translation of the Bible into English. Two years later, he acceded to the throne of England as King James I of England.” It is this King James, of Scottish origin, who commissioned the famous 1611 Bible translation later named for him: The King James Bible!

This King James also rebuilt a portion of Linlithgow Palace that had fallen, although he himself did not live to see the completed work. Succeeding kings visited on occasion, but by the late 1600s the last of the royal families had departed for good. A fire later destroyed the wooden roof and floors, but the palace still stands as an imposing royal reminder.

Exiting the palace, we wandered through picturesque Linlithgow and found a nice café, intending only to have coffee. Two of the choices were coffee with milk, or coffee with hot milk. I had never heard of the hot milk option, but Irene insisted that coffee tastes much better with hot milk! So I tried a cup of the delicious thick coffee with cold milk, then a cup with hot milk, and sure enough my unrefined taste could not tell the difference! Either way, it was good, really good. We all decided that this would be an excellent place for lunch, too, so we each enjoyed minestrone soup and crusty bread before heading out to a small museum featuring Scotty of Star Trek – revealed in one episode as being born in Linlithgow! Then we were off to see the swans in Linlithgow Loch – a beautiful and friendly group – before driving back to Bathgate to pick up the music sheets that Marie had ordered to be framed.

It was so, so kind of Stevieboy49 and Irene to drive us all around central Scotland on Saturday, seeing the highlands and the lowlands and the bonnie, bonnie banks of Loch Lomond (literally!). Scotland is simply gorgeous! After a delectable meal at a small hotel situated above a loch, we wound our way through the hills and valleys for another hour or so, and arrived at our Burnview home from a different direction than we ourselves had ever taken. It’s really valuable to have a local tour guide on the scene! Also very special is the fact – and we can announce it here tonight, ladies and gentlemen – that Stevieboy49 and Irene consented to having their photograph published in our blog slideshow. Keep looking – you’ll see it!

Blessing Blackburn ~ The Sequel ~ Installment 3

“‘Most assuredly, I say to you, he who believes in Me has everlasting life. I am the bread of life.’” (John 6:47-48)

Friday, 9/4/09
6:30 pm in Blackburn, Scotland

It’s hard to keep track of our jet lag, since Marie and I started out in separate time zones and our various clocks (cell, laptop, blog, forum) are all different even though we are now in the same place, GMT. Anyway, we awoke early on Thursday morning to enjoy our traditional Scottish breakfast, expertly prepared by Shirley. Overnight, heavy rain had caused the Almond River to rise dramatically, but neither we nor the cows grazing just across the river were at all nervous about possibly being flooded out. I decided to stay home and work on yesterday’s blog post, while Marie traveled by bus to the frame shop in Bathgate. Nearby, she posted this message on the fan site: “I'm at a tiny internet cafe in Bathgate, near Blackburn, West Lothian. I took Susan's usual local bus here about an hour ago. I'm sipping coffee out of a paper cup, checking my emails on my laptop. I get the message from Amazon. I click and order 3 CDs to be shipped to my home address near San Francisco. Isn't this surreal? What great fun!”

Marie was in Bathgate yesterday for a special purpose, and she is guest blogging here to explain that aspect of her visit to Blackburn. Susan Boyle has inspired many people from all sorts of backgrounds – people who relate personally to her in some way or another. As people analyze their own connections to Susan, they have shared these musings widely on fan forums. My other blog has one perspective, and Marie shares below her impressions as well as news of a special gift for people in Blackburn.

Guest Blogger ~ Marie Sheahan Brown

I Am The Bread Of Life

One person who heard Susan Boyle’s audition in mid-April became a quiet fan.

She awakened one morning in the convent near San Francisco where she has lived for nearly 60 years. She padded downstairs and turned on her computer. She clicked a link to YouTube in one of her emails and watched the unforgettable audition. She noted Susan’s voice and her breath control (“sha-a-a-a-aaame!”); her underdog story and persistence; her humble, devout life.

This quiet fan, herself gifted yet humble, composes sacred music. She celebrates the church choirs and assemblies that nourish the soul in song.

Susan Boyle began singing in church at age 12, developing both her gift and her faith. Although the church has no actual choir, quite possibly over the last 40 years the parishioners of Susan’s church in Blackburn, West Lothian, Scotland, have sung what Sister Suzanne Toolan, RSM, now in her 80s, calls “an old chestnut.” Most people know it as I Am The Bread Of Life, translated into 25 languages.

Most do not know of its narrow escape, related in the National Catholic Reporter, November 2, 2007:

“It was 1966 and Mercy Sr. Suzanne Toolan had been asked to write a song for an event in the San Francisco archdiocese. With the deadline looming, she worked on a song in an unoccupied room next to the infirmary in the Catholic girls’ high school where she taught. ‘I worked on it, and I tore it up. I thought, “This will not do,”’ Toolan said. ‘And this little girl came out of the infirmary and said, “What was that? That was beautiful!” I went right back and Scotch-taped it up.’”

The composer of I Am The Bread Of Life is the quiet fan who, when asked if she might bless the community of Susan’s church in Blackburn by writing a few words on a copy of the score, immediately responded: “I would be so honored!”

For this purpose, Sister Suzanne allowed me to make a digital duplicate of her original hand-notated score (not the Scotch-taped one). She signed the copy with a special message to Susan’s church, and a blessing in the songs of praise we sing.

I carried the one-ounce treasure wrinkle-safe in my laptop case from San Francisco to Blackburn. Leslie and I asked around and found a craftsman, Neil Anderson, who owns Bathgate Picture Craft and reputedly does excellent work (for example, the framed landscapes in the Happy Valley Pub). We easily found his shop on Wednesday – closed. So I returned Thursday while Leslie blogged at the cozy Burnview B and B.

I found Neil at work in his shop on Jarvey Street in Bathgate. I asked if he had a few minutes to talk. Very politely he replied, “Yes, a minute.” I began explaining what I wanted him to frame, and he chuckled. “I thought you wanted to sell me something!” I suppose I did look like a peddler with my backpack and Gore-tex jacket to keep off the rain!

He suggested possible mats and frames. I chose the dark blue mat to draw out the color of Sister Suzanne’s 1960s-era blue pen, and the silver-gold wooden molding to complement without overpowering the image. He recommended glare-free glass to reduce the potential of fading. We arranged for me to pick up the opus on Saturday.

Hopping off the return bus in Blackburn, I stopped in at Susan’s church. In this week’s adventure, I feel myself more pilgrim than tourist. As a pilgrim, I go to experience a place, to learn something about it, about the people, about myself. I attend to God’s presence along the way.

I entered the Blackburn church as an insider, having chosen to enter the Catholic Church more than 22 years ago as an adult. Some five thousand miles and an ocean away from home, I recognized everything in the sanctuary as an old friend.

I sat and considered the people who have worshipped here over the decades, the joyous occasions, baptisms, weddings, and unexpected moments of grace. I imagined the pleas to God during times of loneliness, grief, fear, anger, shame – all the human conditions. Not only would they pray, “Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.” But in Sigrid Undset’s wry wisdom they might also pray, “Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those against whom we have trespassed.”

American poet Frederic Ogden Nash wrote, “A church is a hospital for sinners, not a museum for saints.” Neither the people of Blackburn nor I are yet ready for the Saints’ Hall of Fame. I doubt Susan Boyle is, either – which is why so many in the wide world love and can relate to her. That doesn’t mean she’s not learning, nor her fellow villagers.

I sat in the quiet, praying the Liturgy of the Hours, listening to sheets of rain on the metal roof. A silver-haired lady came in, said her own prayers, and left. We honored each other’s silence.

I went to the back of the church and found neat stacks of well-used slim songbooks on each side of the doorway. They told me, “This congregation sings.”

I leafed through worn pages and found hymn number 226, I Am The Bread Of Life, by Sister Suzanne Toolan. This confirmed my guess that these Blackburn parishioners and pilgrims have sung “the old chestnut” often during Communion and at funerals.

May the villagers of Blackburn, near Bathgate, West Lothian, Scotland, find deep comfort in this rescued music that touches spirits and offers hope worldwide in 25 languages.

Blessing Blackburn ~ The Sequel ~ Installment 2

"If we live in the Spirit, let us also walk in the Spirit.” (Galatians 5:25)

Thursday, 9/3/09
3:05 pm in Blackburn, Scotland

The days have flown by since I last posted! It was with fond memories of little Blackburn that I went from international bank to international bank in gargantuan Brooklyn, unable to exchange dollars for pounds without waiting a few days for my small order to be filled. How simple the exchange had been in Blackburn, with the option of either the counter at the post office or the ATM near the door. Still, I decided not to risk everything on availability of funds in Blackburn, so I made plans to exchange at JFK enough funds for my room and a few meals and bus rides, and the rest as needed in Blackburn.

Packing was so simple! Laptop (check), purse (check) and canvas bag smaller than a cat carrier (check) were all that I needed! My dear immigrant “mamochka” Gulia had provided something special for Marie and me (more on that later), and even the three extra items for my twin fit into my bag. The heaviest load between the two of us would be the 11 copies of Harper’s Bazaar, weighing a total of 22 pounds, which Marie had purchased as gifts for people in Blackburn.

On the first day of September, Del drove me the 15 miles from our home in Brooklyn to JFK Airport in Queens (all within a small section of New York City), and with a hug and a kiss and a prayer dropped me off at one of the Delta terminals. I had gotten my boarding pass online the night before, expecting to check my one little bag. When I got to the counter, the lady smiled warmly and asked if that was all?! Then she said that I would probably be able to take all three items as carry-on luggage because they were so small, even though only two items were normally allowed – and if security said no, then she would have my tag ready. I quickly passed through security, and soon received a call from Marie saying she had landed and was already at Gate 3! She also had managed to fly with only carry-on items, so as we met again for the first time in 3 years, we had no concerns about our luggage parting with such sweet sorrow.

Marie and I are the co-oldest of 5 children (she was born first by 25 minutes). Our younger brothers and sister are not the Susafans that we are, but we’re sure they will really enjoy her CD for Christmas! Since birth, in addition to our formal names, Marie and I have been called Bear and Bird. It’s not quite Ant and Dec, but then again neither is it Susan and Elaine! Marie was happy to show me her carefully-packed ton of Harper’s Bazaars featuring Susan, as well as her socks, part of the Pebbles Boyle Fall Collection. There was no wi-fi in our area of the terminal at JFK, so our first post en route would have to wait.

Our overnight flight directly to Edinburgh (pronounced Edinburuh by the locals) was supposed to take 7.5 hours, but literal hurricane-strength tailwinds propelled us to a smooth landing that was almost 1.5 hours early! While waiting for a ride from Hugh, our generous YouTube Susan’s Pub friend, Marie and I found some delicious coffee at Edinburgh Airport – but again no wi-fi in areas that we could access. So my pre-paid 30 minutes of T-Mobile wi-fi, left over from our June trip, would have to wait.

Hugh picked us up exactly as scheduled, appalled that he was so late! No problem! It’s good to learn to be content in any situation. On the way to Blackburn, Hugh drove us through West Lothian’s latest big town, Livingston, which has rapidly grown in size and stature during the past few decades. We walked through a gorgeous new mall with many different fashionable stores, and I thought about the possibility that Susan in the past had probably traveled by bus to shop here, but with limited resources. Who could ever have guessed that she would be featured in America’s legendary fashion magazine, Harper’s Bazaar, and be credited with an increase of some 2,000,000 views of their September online edition?

The ride from Livingston to Blackburn took only about 10 minutes by way of the old highway that becomes Main Street when it passes east-to-west through Blackburn. It is a rather busy road for traffic between the several villages along the route. But stopping in Blackburn seems inconvenient, because there is little or no parking available near the few businesses located on that stretch of road. Our Blackburn lodging, the charming Burnview Bed and Breakfast, is located on Main Street. We met delightful Shirley, dropped off our luggage, then backtracked on Main Street to its intersection with Blackburn-Bathgate Road. This main north-south street in Blackburn is also busy with substantial traffic that just passes through. In one sense, Blackburn is active; but in another sense, the bustle belongs to someone else and the residents just go on with life in their small village with its hundreds of years of ups and downs.

Hugh immediately drove us to see Susan’s house, near his own childhood home. No traffic, no gawkers besides us, no reporters, no TV cameras (until tomorrow, for a short while!). On the same day that www.amazon.com pre-sales of Susan’s late-November-scheduled debut CD were zooming overnight to first place among all albums currently being sold in the United States, the street where she has lived since birth was peaceful under the rain-laden clouds of Scotland. First on Susan’s summer shopping list was the home her family had rented for almost 50 years. It looks as though she is now able to scrape together enough cash to buy it! She’s among millions of friends, is she not?

Hugh dropped us off at the small mall, and we headed first for the Blackburn Connected library inside. The librarian cheerfully assigned computers 6 and 7 to us, and we briefly signed in to update fellow Susafans at www.forum.susan-boyle.com and the main YouTube site, Susan’s Pub, at www.youtube.com/watch?v=9lp0IWv8QZY. Then we went hunting for a special picture frame that Marie will blog about later. The many frames in two little stores were not exactly what we needed, but the clerks were very patient and helpful. Returning briefly to the library, Marie found the address of a frame shop in Bathgate. We bought some healthy edibles at the Scotmid cooperative grocery in the small mall, briefly stopped by the Happy Valley for a photo op and lemonade in Susan’s seat, and then hopped on the bus to Bathgate, only a mile or two away.

The frame shop was closed on Wednesdays. But we were glad to spot a café with free wi-fi and made a mental note to return as needed. We ate our fruit and veggie snacks seated on a sunny bench in Bathgate’s pretty town square, then waited for a Blackburn-bound bus. After a few minutes, we realized that the various buses to various destinations had various bus stops all adjacent to one another. So, like bees in search of perfect pollen, we bumbled along from one stop to the next, looking for something that said Blackburn. Sure enough, a bus finally stopped and we boarded, followed by a nice fellow that we had seen earlier at the Happy Valley. He sat directly in front of us, and then another man boarded the bus, recognized his friend, and sat down right beside him. It was John Boyle, Susan’s brother! Amazing! We were in shock! The two men were chatting away, and we didn’t want to interrupt their conversation, so we didn’t bother him. Here’s hoping we will see him again during our time in Blackburn!

Back in the village, we enjoyed the blue sky and fluffy white clouds as we walked from the bus stop to Susan’s church. The doors were open, but no one was there. A printed sheet listed the weekly schedule and who would be conducting certain activities. We wondered how often Susan had sat in the choir loft at the back of the sanctuary.

A brief walk away was the small mall, where we promptly ran into Alison, the tirelessly devoted and savvy leader of the Blackburn Community Council, with whom Del and I had spoken back in early July. Blessing Blackburn options are still in the consideration phase, and of course we all want to be sensitive and patient. Alison mentioned that she had read my blog, and filled us in on some of the latest Blackburn news. I asked how they felt about tourists visiting Blackburn. She noted that things had quieted down considerably since the initial deluge of reporters and camera crews. The disruptions to the community had come largely from journalists, photographers and TV trucks vying for stories, but now the flow was much more pleasant and manageable. She mentioned the Japanese TV crew that would be here on Friday. We noted that they had contacted us, too, when they found out from the fan site about our return trip to Blackburn. They had politely asked if they could come along with us on a little informal tour of significant Susan spots in Blackburn, and we agreed! Japan Broadcasting Corporation is the main public television channel in Japan, and they are producing for October airing a prime-time nationwide program about the Susan Boyle phenomenon that has also swept Japan! My blog has links to some of the news articles about the Japanese documentary, which will also be covered on Friday by STV – Scottish Television.

Busy Alison chatted with us for about 15 minutes, then ran off to her next mission. Marie and I still had some time to kill before the official check-in of 4:00 pm at our home away from home, so after catching a few jet-lagged winks seated on a bench near the small mall, we walked to the Burnview Bed and Breakfast on the banks of the Almond River, met Shirley’s friendly husband Colin, and settled into the cozy Twin Room overlooking the Almond and a green hillside of grazing cows. Rest and relaxation at the bed and breakfast! And, oh, what joy fills my soul! The Burnview has free wi-fi for its guests!

After a few hours, we walked through light rain to THE fish and chips shop at the back of the small mall, and ordered Susan’s favorite. There is no seating inside, and the mall was closed, so we walked across the parking lot to a bus stop and perched on the rail eating our delicacies. Following our brief but memorable feast, we walked to the Happy Valley Pub and had a long and interesting conversation with the owner, a feisty and straightforward woman of Italian and French descent, who was born and raised in the Blackburn area. Delizia is a hard-working, can-do person with a heart for people in trouble. She also affirmed that the frame shop in Bathgate was just the place to find what we needed!

Returning to the Burnview, we discovered that Hugh had thoughtfully stopped by with an umbrella! Bless his heart – more of that wonderful Scottish hospitality! Marie and I soon forgot that we were tired and began to work on our blog entries – I on my Dell and she on her Mac. Dell, Mac – there’s something about that name – well, of course! My dear husband, Del McMillan, is holding down the fort in Brooklyn, checking in now and then by single-digit cell dial, and waiting along with everyone else for photos and blog entries!

Blessing Blackburn ~ Installment 4

"The Lord bless you and keep you; the Lord make His face shine upon you, and be gracious to you; the Lord lift up His countenance upon you, and give you peace.” (Numbers 6:24-26)

Note: Please click on image to see slide show with more photos in a larger size at your own pace

Friday, 7/3/09
2:15 pm in Brooklyn, New York

Following our Wednesday visit to the West Lothian Local History Library, we returned to the Happy Valley and to our conversation with Alison, who met us there in a semi-quiet corner of the pub. Refreshed by cold diet Cokes on this warm Blackburn day, we continued to dream a bit with Alison about ways for fans who love Susan to demonstrate their love to her village, too. We showed her some of the concrete ideas that people are willing to offer to Blackburn. Of course, we are all going to buy Susan’s CDs and DVDs and eagerly await her appearances, but because Susan has extraordinarily inspired so many of us, we want to do something extra, too. So Blackburn is a focus of our good will.

We asked Alison if we might attend the evening meeting of the Blackburn Community Council, not to say much but just to be there as visible representatives of these ideas for blessing Blackburn. We did not want to disrupt the agenda, so Alison suggested that we arrive about 45 minutes after the start of the Council meeting. She noted that useful meetings of that sort never need to last more than two hours, and we agreed!

We also asked Alison how she had gotten so involved in Blackburn community issues, to the point of being Chairman of the Blackburn Community Council. She didn’t really know how that had happened! Early on, she had been involved with a tenants’ group, then one issue after another, and often several at once. But of course she gave credit to many other community workers in various organizations that seek to benefit Blackburn residents. We were privileged to meet Alison and to encourage her and the other public servants in the village. Blackburn has had hard times, too many times, but always there has been a community spirit that keeps them together, striving for something better despite the obstacles.

After Alison left, we spent a few more minutes talking with our pubster pals. Jackie telephoned a taxi company that we had seen around town, arranging for our early morning departure to Edinburgh Airport. The cost would be twenty-five pounds, and we realized that we had approximately enough UK money left, but not enough for “just in case” expenses. Del especially dislikes being caught without cash (ewwww, shame!), and although we had exchanged some more dollars for pounds at the Blackburn Post Office earlier in the day (at a better rate than at JFK), we decided also to try the ATM on our way for a bite to eat before the meeting.

In suspense, we wondered if our little debit card would be rejected in the same way that Simon’s credit card had been denied after his expensive meal with Piers recently. “The greatest moment of my life,” Piers had said. “Now what’ll we do,” we might have said – except that the ATM neatly accepted our card and pin number, then quickly dispensed pounds while debiting dollars. And forever in our bank statement will be the record of cash received at an ATM in Blackburn, West Lothian.

Just across the small mall from the ATM was the Scotmid co-operative grocery store, which allows anyone – even Americans – to shop there. We knew that Susan was a lifelong customer, and in addition to finding something for our dinner we thought it would be fun to see what sorts of American products might be on the shelves. In other words, would it be total culture shock for Susan to visit the USA, or would she at least have had the opportunity to get accustomed to some of our products? I’m sure she won’t be in American grocery stores often, not even with Simon’s credit card, but we can dream, can’t we?

Several major American name brands were represented at the Scotmid, including a particular favorite of my husband’s – Del Monte. We cruised the aisles and took some photos, and finally a manager asked what I was doing. When I explained that we were Susan’s fans from America, looking for American products, he said he thought it was something like that and cheerfully turned away. I was careful to examine the cat food selection, because you know how finicky cats can be, especially when taking private jets to stay in five-star hotels in world-class cities.

For our last meal in Blackburn, we settled on a packaged egg and cress sandwich, potato chips, a heavy malt pastry, a diet Coke, some wrapped chocolate eggs and a small bag of Smarties. It was the American junk food experience, in Scotland. Well, we knew there would be some wholesome meals on the flight the next day, so this was our moment. We ate once more in the small mall, and said final farewells to our new friend, the security guard who was constantly on duty to keep kids and perhaps others in line.

The Council meeting was held in the large community centre in which the Support Our Susan parties took place, a few hundred yards behind the small mall. The man at the desk was expecting us, and guided us to one of the classrooms at the end of a hallway. The Council members had already considered some of what we had discussed with Alison, and graciously gave us an opportunity to explain a bit more and to answer questions. They were very appreciative and properly deliberative. We all wanted to make sure that the people closest to these matters would welcome any next steps that might be taken. We left the Blessing Blackburn portfolio of fan messages with them, and departed hoping they could finish their meeting within the ideal two hours. Again, we were so thankful for the quality of people and leaders in Blackburn, Susan’s home village.

Back in our room for our last night at the Happy Valley Hotel, we mostly packed and then I prepared another batch of photos and a few paragraphs for my blog – anticipating that the next wi-fi availability for thousands of miles would be at Edinburgh Airport. In the morning, the taxi arrived as scheduled and it was bye bye Blackburn – until we meet again.

What did we really learn in Blackburn? What are some of the results? I want to spend a little more time meditating, and even praying, about that. I also want to give a few things an opportunity to develop more fully before saying much more. Please come back for my next Blessing Blackburn blog entry in the next day or two! In the meantime, why not start planning your own trip to Blackburn? May you be blessed and be a blessing!

Blessing Blackburn ~ Installment 3

"Blessed are your eyes for they see, and your ears for they hear." (Matthew 13:16)

Note: Please click on image to see slide show with more photos in a larger size at your own pace

Wednesday, 7/1/09
10:39 pm in Blackburn

In Bathgate, next door to the internet café, we found a place that served curried lamb and chicken. We also noticed cans of Irn Bru in a refrigerated case, and remembered a picture of an Irn Bru delivery truck driver giving some of this favorite Scottish soft drink to Susan. Waiting for our curry meal, we sipped a can of regular Irn Bru and were amazed to taste something reminiscent of carbonated Bazooka bubble gum. It was delicious, as was the curry dish with rice, which we ate while perched on a low garden wall in the next block.

One thing we need to mention about dining out so far in Blackburn, and at this shop in Bathgate. There were no chairs or tables in most of the establishments that we visited, as apparently people are accustomed to taking their meals elsewhere to eat them. Except for our several lunches at the sit-down café in the small mall, the rest of the meals that we purchased in Blackburn were for take away (that is, to go). So we either sat on chairs in the mall or went back to the Happy Valley to eat. The Happy Valley does not serve food in the pub, although as hotel guests we could have had breakfasts upstairs. The food that we have eaten here in Scotland is very tasty, so we are well pleased.

As I filed my Monday report at the internet café in Bathgate, Del was conversing with the capable young lady who was helping us. It turned out that Emma was born and raised in Blackburn, and still lives there. She boarded the same bus home to Blackburn with us, and alerted us to exit the bus at the right stop. We have had so many wonderful experiences with local people who are extra friendly and considerate.

As much as we love the fish and chips, we decided on Monday evening to try something different – Chinese food! Across a short field and narrow road from the small mall is one of the two Chinese food places that we have seen in Blackburn. It seems that both of them have take away service only. We wondered if Susan ate there sometimes, and the answer was: not often. A woman came in to pick up her phoned-in order, and we asked her to recommend something good. She said the chicken chow mein was her favorite, so we tried that along with sweet and sour chicken and special rice. Returning to the Happy Valley, we watched the British favorite (a Scotland native) win a long, difficult Wimbledon match as we munched on our Chinese food. It was really very good – and a slightly different style than what we have eaten in Brooklyn.

The Wimbledon match went on and on – ending at the latest hour in Wimbledon history. The BBC airs many of these matches very prominently during the day. Andy Murray, the great hope for the Brits this year, is from a small city in Scotland, only an hour or so away from Blackburn. He won the match after nearly four hours of strenuous play in the hot, hot London weather. Meanwhile, here in Blackburn – often overcast and misty – temperatures remained mostly in the fifties and sixties, creeping occasionally into the sunny low seventies with humidity that we barely noticed compared to steamy Brooklyn in the summer.

Next on our informal agenda was the Blackburn Community Education Centre on Tuesday morning. This is a fairly large complex, built specifically for that purpose (with a youth emphasis) in the 1960s. Surrounded mostly by fields, it is located a few hundred yards behind the small mall. This centre was the site of both Support Our Susan parties during the BGT semi-finals and finals. It is a well-used building providing for many kinds of activities. Colin gave us a tour and explained that the West Lothian Council (which oversees Blackburn governmentally) has plans to rebuild the centre if funds can be pieced together from various entities.

We dropped by the library, Blackburn Connected, to see if someone from the local Blackburn Community Council might be there. Several people had recommended Alison as the person to contact, and we knew her name as the lady who had organized the Support Our Susan parties. The librarian remarked that she had heard we had managed to ride the bus the other day (news travels fast in small towns), and then phoned Alison for us. Alison was happy to meet with us – and we made an appointment for the next morning. Then I followed the proper procedure for using the Blackburn Connected internet service, and was delighted to find that my twin sister, known online as MarieUrsula, had fixed the slide show on my Blessing Blackburn blog so fans could view our first batch of photos. The librarian kindly extended my computer time for one more segment, but alas many emails and comments remain unanswered – and my twin can only do so much in my stead!

Back at the Happy Valley, we had a brief paparazzi moment – spotting Susan’s brother in the pub and asking for a photo with him. He very kindly obliged, and we also took about a minute to explain our hope, along with other fans, to support Blackburn village. He was so friendly. He had already looked through the Blessing Blackburn fan messages, as had many others.

Two genial fellows, John and later Tony, conversed with us at length as we sipped our diet Cokes. They both absolutely adore Blackburn. John had an endlessly funny sense of humor and Tony provided excellent Blackburn insights and historical information. In the meantime, Jock motioned toward the waiting pool table, and I was happy for his narrow victory. Soon after, Tony suggested that we go with him to the West Lothian Local History Library, located nearby in one end of the primary school that Susan attended. Important books, photos and documents for the whole collection of villages are available at this special little library. We spent half an hour there, and saw the new large file on Susan Boyle – actually a box of clippings that, of course, will be growing larger and larger over time. The librarian, Sybil, had written a history of Blackburn and we eagerly bought a copy.

Following another meal of fish and chips in the small mall, we walked to Susan’s home and determined that it would take her six or seven minutes to walk from the mall and five or six minutes from the Happy Valley. At the mall, and later on our walk, we saw some of the kids that I had spoken with the other night. We had already seen other people at multiple places and times, and several had been relatives of others that we had met, or had known of some of our comings and goings in Blackburn. It seems that Blackburn, with an extended population of just under 5000, is actually much smaller in its nucleus of interconnected people and primary businesses.

Back in our room, I made the tactical decision to open Sybil’s Blackburn history, knowing that I would forego many hours of sleep. Published in 2006, the book summarizes the history of Blackburn from the late 1700s to the present. It had been a feudal agricultural community, and in 1772 the Blackburn House was built by a new owner of the large estate. Textile production soon became the main economic activity in Blackburn, but drastically declined in the mid-1800s, at which point mining was on the rise, only to dwindle and then end abruptly by the mid-1900s, just in time for a major auto manufacturer to relocate here, before moving out within a couple of decades, leaving vandalized shells of empty apartment buildings hurriedly built to house workers who couldn’t remain. For centuries, the people of Blackburn had been hard working and hopeful, but ever subject to the few in authority whose decisions radically affected the many in the village. Though finishing on a positive note of potential Blackburn renewal and growth, Sybil’s history ended without a mention of the Belle of Blackburn who would soon put her tiny village on the map, with all the world as her stage.


Thursday, 7/2/09
12:07 pm/7:07 am on Delta 97 EDI/JFK

Yesterday morning in Blackburn was the warmest and sunniest to date. We met Alison at the library, Blackburn Connected, and were delighted to become acquainted with this wise, experienced and dedicated public servant who has volunteered many years and perhaps some tears toward the betterment of Blackburn. Of course she knew that there are fans of Susan numbering in the millions, but still she was glad to learn from us in person that the love of so many fans is real and overflowing. We conveyed the message expressed by several internet friends who want to honor Susan in extra ways, by voluntarily supporting the village that had helped to nurture her for 48 years. We discussed concrete examples that some fans were already exploring, and worthy means that could widely benefit Blackburn residents. We understood that small beginnings and baby steps are good, and proper foundations are important. Alison was happy to speak with us, but had to rush off to another meeting, so we agreed to talk further in the afternoon.

In Sybil’s history of Blackburn, we had read about Blackburn House, the manor built in 1772 by the new owner of the feudal estate. Unlike Finlaystone, with its three resident family lines over 600 years, Blackburn House has had many tenants over two centuries, most often renters not owners. In recent decades, its condition had seriously deteriorated despite its historical significance. Sybil in her book had written about new plans soon underway, to renovate Blackburn House and develop it as a gathering place for artists who could be inspired by its gorgeous view of a fertile valley.

We decided to walk to Blackburn House and see how the work was progressing. About a mile eastward, we found the estate in beautiful condition, obviously the result of a major investment. Prominent on the grounds is an equestrian centre with horses pastured and boarded. Tony told us later that the equestrian centre had been there for several years, and that the renovations to the main buildings of Blackburn House were a separate enterprise, publicly funded. Still, having spent time at a Wyoming dude ranch years ago, Del and I wondered how a Scottish dude ranch with draft horses might fare.

We walked back to the village, gazing at green fields that may not have changed much in two centuries, and sat down for chicken noodle soup and a cheese sandwich at the Mill Café in the small mall. As usual, we received back coins in change for the ten-pound Scottish note with which we paid for the meal. At this or other places, the coins returned included denominations of two pounds, one pound, half pound, twenty pence, ten pence, five pence, two pence or one pence, in diameters, shapes, thicknesses and substances more varied than US coins. Bills less than five pounds are almost never used – meaning only coins are used in denominations of under the equivalent of about eight dollars. No equivalents to fives, nor ones, for example. Pocket change really adds up quickly to a valuable amount.

After lunch, we strolled back to the Happy Valley and then to the West Lothian Local History Library to follow up on Tuesday’s introduction. Sybil answered questions about the kinds of housing in Blackburn. In her book, she had noted that in the early 1970s about 96 percent of homes were council houses and apartments, owned by the government and rented to the residents. This is the kind of home in which Susan has lived all her life. Sybil had also written that due to policy changes a couple of decades ago, people were allowed to buy their council homes from the government. We remembered that this was also Susan’s dream. And, as of seven years ago, it had been the dream of almost 50 percent of Blackburn residents who had finally purchased their homes. Now, Sybil clarified, the number of private home owners in Blackburn is in the neighborhood of 70 percent. Castle sweet castle.

Blessing Blackburn ~ Installment 2

"Whenever the cloud was taken up from above the tabernacle, the children of Israel would go onward in all their journeys." (Exodus 40:36)

Note: To see the slide show with larger photos at your own pace, click on the image and you will be linked to the source.

Saturday, 6/27/09
3:45 pm in Armadale, near Blackburn, West Lothian

David arrived at the Happy Valley Hotel promptly at 10:00, and we were still asleep. How horrifying to check the local time on my cell phone, to discover that it was almost 11:00! Showering quickly, I ran to my handy travel hair dryer, plugged it into the adaptor, turned the little screw to 220 and was amazed at the cyclonic hot winds that soon rendered the hair dryer useless. Have you ever wondered what would happen if you plugged an American appliance into a foreign outlet, even with an adapter? Wonder no more. The travel dryer is the only electrical appliance that didn’t survive our Atlantic crossing. Thank the Lord for the cordless butane curling iron that had made it through security. I needn’t have worried much about the hair, because out in the umbrella-proof Scotland mist the styling soon reverted to that of the long-haired sheep pixeling the green pastures around Blackburn.

After breakfast at the café in the little mall, we bought some items at the co-op grocery store and established that Susan, indeed, shopped there regularly. We asked if there were other business areas in town, and the cashier generously listed several locations that we didn’t understand. We decided to go to Finlaystone on our own tomorrow, and on our way out of the Happy Valley in search of an internet connection, we found David in the pub and profusely apologized (he had already wisely assumed jet lag).

Recalling the librarian’s instructions from yesterday, we walked Susan-like to the bus stop and immediately caught a very modern little bus full of well-dressed ladies on their way to the next village, Whitburn. They all said the library in Whitburn (which we knew had wi-fi) was closed until Monday, but anyway we would enjoy Gala Day in the village! After allowing the bus driver to fish through my coin purse for the proper fare, we arrived ten minutes later in a literal business district festooned with banners and Scottish flags. We noticed the Lothian office of the Scottish Parliament, near the library with its large internet hotspot banner in the window. It had closed about an hour earlier, but we saw a computer shop across the street and went in to ask for an internet connection. The owner kindly referred us to the internet café in Bathgate on Bridge Street (I think), just a short bus ride away. We walked to the bus stop again, jumped on the Bathgate-bound bus, paid all by ourselves, drove off on the road lined with sheep-filled pastures, and determined that the driver had never heard of Bridge Street. But at the next stop a guy and four little kids boarded and, hearing of our plight, insisted that there was an internet café in Armadale! It’s a good thing this collection of villages is rather compact! At Armadale, the gentleman explained the route in language that was completely understandable twenty percent of the time, and then just led us all the way to the internet café at Computer Solutions. That phrase translated well enough. It turns out that our rescuer and his brothers had sung with “our lassie” at the Happy Valley and other places, and he was thrilled at her success.

Here at the internet café, with its Dell computers, my own Dell laptop is now connected by wi-fi and I hope to file my blog post within minutes. I didn’t ask about the hourly rate, because at this point I don’t care how much it costs. Del gave the manager a button with Pebbles’ picture on it, and he said his own cat had been named Pebbles. Alas, he is not a Susan fan, but he is forgiven! Soon we shall return to the Happy Valley in Blackburn, glad for our unplanned bus tour of the collection of villages. We hope to keep you posted sometime tomorrow, during or after our bus trip to Del’s castle west of Glasgow! (He’s a part-owner of Dell computers, you know.)

Sunday, 6/28/09
10:36 am on the train to Glasgow

On the way home to Blackburn from Armadale, we learned that buses require exact fare. We had jumped on the bus with our twenty-pound note, only to jump back off in search of change for the fare that was less than five pounds. But this gave us an opportunity to buy some more Smarties and some cookies in a small grocery store, and to meet a young lassie at the bus stop while we were waiting again. She was from another village, and wanted to visit New York! Then she told us that she had gone with a man for five years, and he had left her, and then another man for several months, and he had left her. She wondered if there was anyone who would not leave her. I quietly said one sentence, “Honestly, you need Jesus – He will love you and never leave you.” After chatting for a while longer, she decided the bus she wanted was at another stop, so off she went down the street. When our bus arrived, there she was on the bus! I gave her my card, with a blog address, www.brooklynblessings.blogspot.com, and she took it appreciatively.

The bus went through Bathgate village, which is the biggest that we saw yesterday (Blackburn is the smallest). At one of the bus stops, who should board but our friend the pool player from the Happy Valley. Especially when I see people “coincidentally” more than once, I know that God wants me to pray for them. Jock is his name. He asked if we would be in the pub in the evening, and if perhaps we could play some pool again. I apologized for beating him, and said he was really a very good player and I just had some good breaks that time. Later we happened to see him at the small mall on our way to buy fish and chips for dinner. Back at the pub, Del gave him a new knit cap with a USA emblem – exactly the style and color Jock always wears – that Del had happened to pack just in case. Jock had prepared a CD for us, with all of Susan’s main pre-tour videos, so it was a nice exchange.

After eating our fish and chips seated in the small mall, called The Mill Centre, we thought it would be interesting to try to trace Susan’s route back home. She would have taken a much more direct route, whereas we took a number of wrong turns. Once I casually asked a young lady where a particular street was. She gave me directions and said, “You’ll find Susan’s house there.” How could she possibly have known? The camera? The accent? Del finally gave up the search when it seemed we were close to the Happy Valley, and he went home. I retraced some steps and realized we had passed Susan’s house without noticing because we were looking on the wrong side of the street. But that is the story of our lives in Scotland!

Susan’s house is special because it is hers. Taking a few photos, I tried to imagine living in one home in one village for 48 years, walking the same roads, seeing the same people, knowing every life story. There is a pleasant security in that anchor. After my own parents passed away 13 and 25 years ago, and Del’s long before, none of our widely-scattered siblings have all gathered for, say, Thanksgiving or Christmas in one traditional place with a matriarch as we had before. Independence has its limitations.

Next I decided to trace Susan’s route from her home to the Happy Valley Hotel for lemonade and karaoke. It would have been a brief straight walk with one little turn and then a diagonal across a small park. But on the way, near the school, a group of young girls stopped me and began asking all kinds of questions. They wanted a photo, and they wanted to hear my American accent because they had never met an American before. They all loved Susan and tried in various ways to sing I Dreamed A Dream. One girl had already seen us on the bus earlier, and her dad already knew about us from the Happy Valley. The girls noticed my Susan lapel button and asked if I had more. Yes, yes, I said I would go back to my room and bring them some buttons. Then they asked me to sing a song. In real life, because of my calling, I usually sing in Russian and always about Biblical themes. So I sang The Lord’s Prayer in English, and asked if they knew the words. Most could recite the words, and I showed them in my compact Bible where Jesus had spoken them. Then they asked me to sing the same song in Russian. When some boys came over, they asked me to sing it again in English. They said I sounded like Susan. No way, I said! The boys asked for another song, and in Hebrew and Russian I sang a version of Psalm 23 and read the text in English, “The Lord is my Shepherd…” Finally, I broke away and went back to my room and got enough buttons for everyone. By then, more kids had arrived, and I went back and forth to get a few more buttons for them all. Bless their hearts, the next generation of Blackburn villagers!

Returning to the Happy Valley for the evening, I fell asleep for a few minutes that turned into a few hours, after which I prepared our photos just in case Finlaystone has a wi-fi connection. Here’s hoping!

Monday, 6/29/09
1:30 pm in Blackburn

Yesterday’s trip to Finlaystone, west of Glasgow, was delightful and mostly trouble-free. We caught a sleek double-decker bus to Bathgate, instructed by a young lady at the bus stop that our best option was to take a train to Glasgow by way of Edinburgh. But at the Bathgate train station we discovered that their trains were not running on Sunday. A man who happened to be there said we should take a taxi to Linlithgow to catch the Glasgow-bound train. A taxi driver happened to be parked nearby, and he drove us through green meadows to the modern station in larger Linlithgow, the birthplace of Mary, Queen of Scots. The train was wonderfully modern and upholstered, smooth and quiet on the tracks. How totally different from the subway trains in New York City! Many of the seats had tables, just right for a laptop!

At Queens Station in Glasgow, our mission was to find a bus to Langbank, the village near which Finlaystone castle is located. Why Finlaystone? It is the home of George MacMillan, chief of the Scottish clan to which thousands worldwide belong – including Del (spelled with a Mc). There were as many different transport instructions as there were people to ask. We waited unsuccessfully for the right bus from Queens Station, and finally acted on one man’s advice to walk to Central Station several blocks away. Glasgow is big and impressive and busy, and I thought of Susan in January coming here alone by bus from her little village, finding her way to the audition in an imposing auditorium, sitting and waiting for hours for her big break, entering the stage before a skeptical crowd, confiding her dream to mockers, and within a few glorious moments becoming the new Queen of Scotland and eventually the planet! God bless her!

At Central Station, at last we asked the person who gave us just the information we needed – a helpful policeman in his office. He found a detailed map, made copies and told us exactly which train to take to the station nearest to Finlaystone. He walked us to the right platform, and within a few minutes, we were on our way to Langbank, from which we then walked more than two miles past the village and through the grounds to the castle.

Finlaystone was built about 600 years ago, and has been the home of three families. It is said that the famous reformer John Knox gave communion to one of the families in 1556, under a yew tree that still exists on the vast, beautifully landscaped grounds. The public is welcome to tour the lovely and varied gardens, and by appointment the castle, which is now occupied by three generations of the MacMillan family. Del and I did not make it into the castle, but we did receive a twenty-percent McMillan discount at the gift shop and a tour of the private Clan MacMillan room with its interesting displays, artifacts and references. The only disappointment was that there was no wi-fi connection.

Finishing our Finlaystone day, we walked back two miles to the train station, retraced our route in Glasgow from one station to the other, grabbed a Whopper at Burger King, sped back to Linlithgow, asked some nice people to call a taxi, rode directly to Blackburn, and got to the evening service at Blackburn Gospel Hall just in time for the guest preacher to give his message from Psalm 90. His English was so understandable, and he had such a gracious yet forthright manner of speaking life principles from the Bible. Afterward, a lovely couple invited us to their home to eat, along with some other wise and kind people who regularly gather there after church on Sunday nights. We were so happy to visit with these Scots who really have a heart for Blackburn. They all appreciate Susan and were glad to learn that many of us around the world are praying for her and caring about Blackburn. We spoke as volunteer emissaries about the interest of many of Susan’s global fans, to bless Blackburn in ways that will widely benefit the residents of the village. It was very good to have an opportunity to think through the possibilities of a practical and reliable process through which fans around the world could connect to Blackburn community leaders with the same vision. During the next few days, we hope to explore some of those possibilities.

Monday, 6/29/09
4:35 pm in Bathgate

Passing through the pub on our way out, one of the pubsters motioned us over to greet Susan’s brother John. Gentle and trim, he stood up and spoke with us for several minutes. He had recently been interviewed by People magazine, and the reporter had confirmed that Americans love Susan Boyle! John agreed, noting that 95 percent of the fan mail coming to the house is from America. He appreciated the open-hearted frankness of so many. Of course he knows about the many loving fans from around the world, too. He said Susan is singing in Ireland, and the BGT tour and commitment will end on Sunday. We said we hoped she could spend some time resting at home before her next events. John will be here again and will look at the book of Blessing Blackburn greetings from fans.

Jackie was there, and said that she had tried to find Susan’s Pub on YouTube but so far was unable to do so. I wrote out the proper details, and she will try again. In the meantime, we ourselves would try to find a wi-fi connection. Our hope was a bus ride away, and indeed we found an internet café – yes, on Bridge Street in Bathgate.

Blessing Blackburn ~ Installment 1

“Now therefore, our God, we thank You and praise Your glorious name. But who am I, and who are my people, that we should be able to offer so willingly as this? For all things come from You, and of Your own we have given You. For we are aliens and pilgrims before You, as were all our fathers…” (1 Chronicles 29:13-15a)

Thursday, 6/25/09
7:20 pm in New York

Here's our first small report on the Blessing Blackburn trip...we're comfortably waiting at JFK airport for a direct overnight flight to Edinburgh. Del forgot to pack his kilts. He neglected ever to buy any, for that matter. Just as well. Thank you to the many who wrote messages of blessing to Blackburn.

Friday, 6/26/09
11:35 pm in Blackburn

We had a wonderful flight, arriving on time this cloudy morning in the green countryside of Edinburgh Airport. Throughout the terminal were banners announcing Homecoming Scotland. Del, half Scottish, is here for the first time but probably not the last! Our very humorous and considerate internet friend EXHopefieldroad, whom we had virtually met at Susan’s Pub, was waiting for us with his Del & Leslie sign! Walking out to his car, a Ford, I found a coin on the ground – a pound, worth about $1.65! This enabled me to buy a pint of lemonade later, with change to spare! EXH gave me a lovely beaded bracelet with the name Susan spelled out, designed by his daughter. Then he gave me the choice of another, from among a variety of colors, and I chose the violet-glassed strand.

EXH was born and raised in Blackburn, moving later to Bathgate a mile away. You know – Blackburn, near Bathgate, West Lothian. It’s a collection of villages, really. I’m so glad EXH was driving, because not only is the steering wheel on the wrong side, but so are all of the cars themselves. Add to that the many roundabouts, and I would definitely have lost my direction on the stage. Blackburn is a short fifteen or twenty miles from the airport. Along the freeway, in the distance, we could see the flat-topped hills that are the remaining evidence of the mining industry that closed down decades ago. EXH explained that Blackburn had been a mining town, and almost everyone who worked in those earlier years was a miner. The community bonds were very strong and deep, because of the camaraderie and interdependence of the miners in their difficult, risky work. After the mines shut down, some large manufacturers employed many people, but also eventually closed. Yet Blackburn kept growing because of an influx of people from Glasgow. EXH said there was some friction between the old-timers from the village and the newcomers from the city, but eventually people adapted to one another.

Along the M8 freeway, the signs announced Livingston, then Bathgate, then Blackburn! By way of the primary north-south street, Bathgate Road, we entered Susan’s village, located on the pleasantly rolling Almond River plain that has historically hosted military battles but now lends itself to ferocious football contests. If you have seen pictures of Susan’s house, now you know the appearance of almost every home and building in Blackburn! Stucco, light gray or light brown, usually two stories, tile roof, very close to the street. We drove along Hopefield Road, EXH’s former neighborhood, and saw where Susan went to school as a child. Our first stop in Blackburn was the most special – Susan’s house! We ourselves were the only paparazzi in sight! It’s back to being Blackburn. But I’m sure that when the Bonnie Belle of Blackburn returns, so will the flocks of photographers. Yet again the old-timers from the village will have to adapt to the newcomers.

Next stop, the Happy Valley Hotel – with the pub where Susan often sang karaoke and drank lemonade! The four very pleasant guest rooms are on the second floor, accessed by a side door or through the back of the pub. I had been cheerfully prepared for the possibility of a dark, smoke-filled tavern, but was even more delighted to find that the interior, upstairs and down, is completely bright and smoke-free! Our room is small but totally clean and functional with tasteful décor. It is located just across the hall from the common bath, and just down the hall from a common large-screen TV room with plush couches and two small dining tables for the breakfast guests. We have a little flat-screen TV on the wall in our room, and found just four or five channels – some of whose call letters are now familiar because of our internet searches for Susan news during the past two months. Has it only been two months??!!!

Paying for our room downstairs in the pub, we gave lovely, friendly, discreet Jackie several crisp new British twenty-pound notes, which we had purchased at the airport in New York. She explained that Scotland also has its own pounds, which are not accepted in England. EXH had mentioned earlier that Scotland sends members to Parliament in London, but has restored its own Parliament as well. Hmm…is the United Kingdom cracking up?

I sat in the chair where Susan always sits, at the table in an alcove beside the door, facing the dartboard and the flashing video game, near the pool table, with a view of a large screen TV at the other end of the room. The walls are a stylish cream color, and the carpet is a deep blue and green Scottish plaid. Everything is spotless and cozily modern. I ordered lemonade. Dear friends, in Scotland the lemonade that Susan drinks is exactly like 7-Up in America! I checked the spigot – yes, Schweppe’s Lemonade – but the clear, bubbly liquid is soft and sweet! Jackie had no idea that her pub is the inspiration for Susan’s Pub on the main YouTube site with the nearly 70,000,000 views! I explained that 2uCalifornia is her counterpart, and pubsters from around the world have imagined the interior with a fireplace, and a picture of Susan and Pebbles on the wall, where people come in to order a virtual beverage of their choice and to talk about Susan! (The Happy Valley has no fireplace. Perhaps we virtual pubsters can chip in and buy a fashionable oak-paneled electric fireplace as a pub-warming gift.) I said that we all know Jackie’s name, too, and we appreciate her consistent kindness to Susan, both in person and in the press. Jackie said she would check YouTube tonight, and I suggested that she use our names, Del and Leslie, as references to prove she is not an imposter!

Del, for the past thirty years, has truly enjoyed his hobby of making lapel buttons of the sort one sees for political or charitable causes. So, naturally, he had produced a nice selection of buttons, magnets, mirrors and key chains with various Susan pictures on them (and some of Pebbles). We presented a handful to Jackie, and have more to spare for the coming days in Blackburn!

Next on our agenda was to find an internet connection for our laptop. Alas, the Happy Valley Hotel is not a wi-fi hotspot. Alex, in the pub, suggested the library in the small covered shopping mall visible a short block away. We didn’t really understand his Scottish brogue without subtitles, so we bypassed the mall the first time around and ended up half a block further, at the open-gated entrance to Susan’s church. We saw no one around the small complex and its modest acreage, but decided anyway to try the door of the church. In we went, like thieves in the night (in the proper Biblical sense)! There were no signs with the church name anywhere inside or out, but we picked up a bulletin and sure enough it was the church mentioned as Susan’s in reports. No mention of Susan in the bulletin for that day, though. The sanctuary has the same semi-modern style as thousands of American churches, and probably seats 300 people in long wooden pews extending from each side of a center aisle. Who among them knew that Susan who sang to them would one day sing to more than 300,000,000 worldwide – all within two months of her televised BGT audition?

On we walked, trying to find something like a business district. So far, in this orderly little village, we still have found nothing of that kind. We stopped at a convenience store and bought a tube of Smarties. Susan had never even heard of YouTube before she seized global control of it. She said the only tube she knew was a tube of Smarties. They look like M & M candies in a six-sided cardboard tube, but their chocolate flavor has a bit of a fruity taste as well. Mmmmm!

Finally – having frequently avoided oncoming traffic brushing by us from the wrong direction (had to think there!) – we returned to the pub for a repeat of Alex’s instructions, ssslllowwwlllyyy. The mall, easily in sight less than three hundred yards away, is probably the most convenient shopping location for Susan. It has a grocery store, a convenience store, a pharmacy, the newly-busy Blackburn Post Office that looks more like a gift shop, a lawyer’s office, a small café, a bookie joint, a couple of other shops, a nice seating area, and the public library called Blackburn Connected. We decided to eat first, so we ordered fish and chips in the café, but they were out of fish. They recognized Susan’s face on the lapel buttons that we were wearing, and said that she ate there sometimes. No fish, so the breakfast special at 1:00 pm was our preference. We didn’t recognize some of the Scottish items on the plate, but were glad for the opportunity to sample them and drink whipped coffee with milk.

Out in the mall and at the library, Blackburn Connected, people that we met were very friendly and helpful, despite the lack of subtitles. No one acted with overt shock when we said we were Americans from New York who love Susan Boyle, but we knew they would later be processing that little added fact of the phenomenon. In the library were many public computers with internet connections, but no wi-fi and no connections available for my laptop. After noting that Susan’s brother was there almost every day, the earnest librarian and a patron suggested the library in the next village for a wi-fi connection, and conscientiously gave detailed bus instructions which we couldn’t understand even though we live in Brooklyn with its countless buses, trains and connections. The patron said he would write it all down and deliver the info to us at the Happy Valley. I also thought I heard the librarian say I could just use the public computers in the library along with my flash drive (by some other name)! Happily, I filed my first brief Blackburn report on the YouTube site of Susan’s Pub, and proceeded on to www.susan-boyle.com and its eagerly-awaited new forum! But before I could update those fan friends, another customer told me I needed to be a member of the library and to register at the desk before using the computer. Apologetically mumbling something about not understanding the rules, I slunk away to the Happy Valley, where I simply pressed the single speed-dial buttons on my T-Mobile cell phone to call dear ones back in America and report our safe arrival! And what about my T-Mobile for a wi-fi connection? I’m afraid I could buy the company for the price per minute of being online at Susan’s Pub or Susan’s Village.

By this time – mid-afternoon – we were hearing more customers in the pub directly below our room. So we went downstairs and ordered diet Cokes and gave Jackie the portfolio entitled Blessing Blackburn which is full of fans’ messages to Blackburn, Susan and even Jackie herself. We watched as she read through the dozens of pages in between serving customers, and we were happy that other people also began to read the messages. Various genial pubsters came over to talk to us, and one lady, Annette, said that if Susan were there she would normally have done the same thing – she would have come over to us and struck up a nice conversation even with people she didn’t know. Bless Susan’s heart!

And bless Annette’s heart! She learned that we planned to visit Del’s clan’s castle west of Glasgow on Sunday. With some perhaps well-founded concern for our ability to travel by bus despite her instructions, Annette went over and asked her brother-in-law, David, if he would drive us himself! He kindly agreed to the 130-mile round-trip, but tomorrow – Saturday – leaving at 10:00 am sharp. He and his coworker drive grocery trucks regionally for a living, so why not haul a couple of tourists on his day off? We had a wonderful conversation with David, his wife Bridget and his coworker whose name we didn’t catch but surely will before we leave next week! David had known Susan all his life, and often ran the karaoke at the Happy Valley. On the night of her televised audition, all of the young guys were around the pub, waiting for their turn at karaoke – which would be delayed until after Susan sang. None of the young guys had heard Susan sing before, and they were as shocked and touched as the rest of the world when they watched her perform that night.

Meanwhile, here at the pub, we watched the guys, old and young, playing pool on the single table. Del nudged me, that I should put a half-pound coin on the edge of the table to challenge the winner. At this point, the reigning player was Jackie’s good-natured husband, Alistair. I had earned a Philosophy degree at the university thirty years ago, but had gained the more valuable skill of playing a little pool back in those heathen days. Well, here I was in Blackburn among the natives in the pub, so what else could I do besides drinking diet Coke and lemonade? I chalked up the cue, but lost a close game to Alistair, then watched two other regulars compete. I told Del those guys would just kill me if I played them. But, somehow, I beat each of them as the whole growing crowd watched and cheered. I thought I heard someone say something about a shark, but probably it was that brogue issue again. I know nothing, I know nothing. Thankfully for the mission of Blessing Blackburn, I then lost to another guy who wanted to defend the honor of Blackburn against the American. (He politely never referred to the fact that I am a woman.) He had never played against an American before, and I made his victory even sweeter by telling him that I was also a New Yorker!

It was again time to search for fish and chips. One young lady – herself an excellent pool player – gave us directions to the fish and chips shop just on the other side of the small mall. Of course we didn’t fully understand, and had quite a nice walking tour of the fences behind some Blackburn houses, and the fog-shrouded football field and playground, before finally arriving at the fish and chips shop. Yes, this is the place where Susan buys her take-out fish and chips – including, quite possibly, on her way home alone from Glasgow after the audition! There is no seating, so we brought our fish and chips home to the Happy Valley breakfast table next to our room. They were absolutely delicious, and WELL worth it!

The crowd was growing larger and louder below, and we decided to see if we could get some coffee. Susan’s Pub on the internet serves Starbucks, Susan Boyle Blend, but alas not a drop of java could be found in the literal pub in Blackburn. We settled for lemonade and watched the pool players as we sipped away. One of the guys from this afternoon was still there (actually, a lot of the same guys were still there), and he thoughtfully offered to play me again. What would you have done? We were among friends, were we not? So I played and, well, somehow beat him again. Should I tell him about thefloggingparson in Susan’s Pub? Thank God I lost the next game to another guy, and Del and I retired to our room for the night.

But it’s not really night. For one thing, the northern lights keep the sky rather bright until the wee hours. For another thing, by New York time it was still early. So, testing my power adaptor, I recharged the camera battery and wrote this entry on my fully-powered laptop! In the morning – perhaps at the 600-year-old family castle west of Glasgow – I hope to find a wi-fi connection by which to file this blog post!