1. NEARESTANDNEARESTAND DEARESTNUMBEDBYLOSSDEARESTNUMBEDBYLOSS
THE last 72 hours have
seen fierce criticism hurled
at Amy Winehouse’s
record label, management
and worst of all, her fam-
ily, over her tragic death.
Why did they stand aside
and let it happen? Where
were the parents when she
needed them most? Why
didn’t management intervene?
It’s the grieving curve, as a
doctor will tell you, and blame
is a huge part of the process.
But Mitch Winehouse
eloquently put all that misplaced
criticism and wayward specula-
tion to rest at his daughter’s
funeral yesterday.
During his eulogy in Edgware,
at the crematorium in Golders
Green, followed by a gathering
at Southgate Synagogue, he han-
dled himself with dignity and
class. He held back his emotions
as the day he feared for the past
five years finally arrived.
Mitch would be the first to
admit he hasn’t always handled
the spotlight well. But I urge you
to remember this. He’s a normal
bloke — a no-nonsense East Lon-
don cabbie with a tongue that
talks him into trouble — thrust
into the spotlight from nowhere.
But I can vouch for the
authenticity of every word. The
moving, heartfelt tribute to his
daughter on the most difficult
day of his life. I was invited to
the funeral by her trusted man-
ager Raye Cosbert on behalf of
the family yesterday morning.
I need to be absolutely unequi-
vocal about why I am writing
about what happened inside. It
is not a mawkish, claiming-
of-credit exercise, boasting about
being the only journalist there.
This is my chance to explain
how normal these people actu-
ally are. They are an everyday
family who happen to have had
a hugely talented child.
They haven’t been shouting
about what has been going on
behind closed doors because
they were quietly trying to
rebuild their daughter’s life.
Hearing their stories at the
Southgate Progressive Synagogue
in North London reassured me
about just how much was done
to haul Amy back from the edge
of an abyss in 2007.
It was clear how close-knit
Amy’s family are. A member of
her touring crew pointed out that
they all turned up together in the
same numbers to see Mitch sing,
just as they did to see Amy.
The “family” doesn’t just
include aunts, uncles, nieces,
nephews and cousins. Her man-
ager is more of a second father
with security, band, roadies,
crew and real friends treated
like brothers and sisters.
Between them they’d brought
Amy back from a crippling sub-
stance and alcohol addiction.
But sadly the damage was done.
There was a conspicuous sense
of frustration in the air at the
Golders Green crematorium.
You could see it on the faces
in the garden of remembrance
after a tearful service for the cre-
mation. The sun burst out from
behind the clouds and famous
faces, wealthy record bosses and
working-class relatives embraced.
Bryan Adams cuddled Amy’s
closest pal Tyler James. The
world-famous rock star had
reached out to help her after she
divorced a man who doesn’t
even deserve a mention here.
He gave her a place to stay in
his Caribbean home to help her
off heroin. Kelly Osbourne wept
as she squeezed Amy’s mum
Janis. Trusted producer pal Mark
Ronson mingled with family and
shook musicians’ hands. There
was no sense of hierarchy or
snobbery. All were united like a
football team tasting a shock defeat
snatched from the jaws of victory.
Among them quietly efficient, hard-
working and loyal PR men like
Shane O’Neill.
Mitch shook my hand and
thanked me for the sensitive cover-
age. Polite, warm and grateful when
it could have been a chance for a
dig over years of difficult reporta.
Over a bagel at the funeral Raye,
a gentle giant of a man, talked
softly about the tiny frame of Amy.
Almost whispering, he said: “She
was only 4ft 11. Her body couldn’t
cope with what it had gone through.”
It has been hard to hear pundits
on TV tarnish a proud man like
Raye’s name. He loved her like a
daughter, and Mitch thanked him for
what he had done in his eulogy. He
said: “Raye’s our friend and brother.
And more importantly he sits behind
me at Tottenham.”
But Big Raye, ever the profes-
sional, still hasn’t started grieving.
He had a job to do, and within 48
hours of “his girl” dying, he had put
together a fitting send-off. It won’t
sink in for him for a while. He is
still in work mode. You could hear
his frustration as he recalled his last
phone call to Amy.
He rang her on Friday before he
left for New York. The next call he
got was from his wife, as he landed,
to break the tragic news.
He told some of her family over a
drink how he walked through immi-
gration and security and took a
flight straight back to the UK.
In between, he had the agonising
job of breaking the news to Mitch.
Mitch’s eulogy paid tribute to
“Amy’s security men who would
smash down walls for her.” He said:
“I’d trust them with my life. They’d
been instrumental in Amy’s recovery
over the last few years.”
That sense of frustration once
again that they hadn’t checked up on
her last Saturday morning.
At the crematorium guests queued
to shake Mitch’s hand, embrace Janis
and offer some comfort to Amy’s
brother Alex.
Universal Records boss Lucien
Grange, widely regarded as the most
important and influential man in the
industry worldwide, waited patiently
in line to pay his respects. And he’s
a man who doesn’t wait in lines.
David Josef, boss of the UK label,
was ashen-faced. The dad of two
young kids, the gravity of the Wine-
house family loss was etched across
his face.
So much for the heartless cliché
of money-grabbing music bosses.
A fleet of cars took the congrega-
tion on to Southgate, where the
makeshift bar offered a choice of
whisky or sherry. The alcohol
remained almost untouched for 90
minutes. I indulged in my own little
tribute — but got the feeling booze
was the one elephant in the room. It
has been the silent killer in Amy’s
story, while drugs grabbed all the
headlines.
The immaculate hall had no
sense of a morbid atmo-
sphere. A lot of happy
memories were shared.
Jokes about Spurs’ for-
tunes and funny stories
about Amy filled the
air. Her beloved Scot-
tish tour manager
Curly and backing
singer Zalon laughed about nerve-
wracking nights in front of huge
audiences. A crew member joked of
Glastonbury and how they struggled
to keep the singer’s white shirt clean
before she went on stage.
Jewish food was laid out on a
row of tables, with fish goujons
and smoked salmon bagels hoovered
up by hungry uncles over a cuppa.
As close family left for Mitch’s
sister’s house, the band, crew, road-
ies, security and pals headed off to
raise a glass in Amy’s old haunt,
Camden’s Hawley Arms. The wake
would go on long into the night.
My outstanding memory will be
speaking to Reg Traviss. He’s
simply a broken man.
He had helped turn her life
around, and looked like he
was feeling the pain of the
loss more than anyone in the
room. The dawning realisation
that he had only two years
as her boyfriend — and
that time had come to a
sudden end. Still wide-
eyed in shock, he
spoke of the little
things they were look-
ing forward to. He had planned a
family holiday with her and they’d
shared their excitement about the
wedding of a pal they were due at
last Sunday.
I said my goodbyes to Mitch, Raye
and Reg and left. Over the last seven
years it has been difficult reporting
the turbulent life of Amy Winehouse
for The Sun.
I saw her in triumphant form and
depths of despair — but we always
got on. She recently told Reg “he
was always all right with me. I liked
him” — and that’s enough for me.
I feel terrible that I doubted Mitch,
questioning why he launched his own
singing career.
He’s just a lively, popular bloke
who enjoys a bit of spotlight and a
sing-song — nothing more sinister
than that. And let’s face it, we all
have one of them in our lives.
But as Mitch told me: I am now a
father to a little boy, like he once
was to a little girl and no one is
qualified to question that love — so
look after it. If I’ve learned one les-
son from my dealings with the Wine-
house clan over the years, there it
is. RIP Amy. g.smart@the-sun.co.uk
By GORDON
SMART
at the funeral
Received a cuddle . . . Tyler James Laughed about old shows . . . Zalon
Amy . . . with Gordon
Loaned hols home . . . Bryan Adams Amy ‘like daughter’ . . . Raye Cosbert
Memory . . . snap at funeral yesterday
BLAKE’S
‘RESPECT’AMY’s former husband did
NOT ask to be let out of
jail for her funeral — out
of respect for her family.
Instead Blake Fielder-
Civil, 29, with Amy below,
was visited by girlfriend
Sarah Aspin and their
baby son Jack at Armley
Prison in Leeds.
Burglar Blake split from
Amy after two years of
marriage in 2009.
Sarah, 31, said later: “He
did not ask to be at Amy’s
funeral. There is no way
he would want to be there
in handcuffs. He has too
much respect for Amy and
her family to do that.”
JANE MOORE: PAGE 15 l LETTERS: PAGE 49
Mingled with family . . . Mark Ronson
Wept . . . Kelly Osbourne
6 Wednesday, July 27, 2011 2G