I did not know John.Sarah his sister is a great friend of mine and I know she loved John dearly.She told me about his life,his work being a dad. He seemed to get everything he could out of life.As we all should each and every day.This website is a way to pay homage to John and his contribution to life.A wonderful idea. Aaron

John's wedding to Sam on 9th Sept was a mixed affair, a joyous celebration of tow greats peoples love affair, but tinged with sadness as John was so ill at that stage. However, he rallied to says some words to Sam, in true John style these were quoted from a Bruce Sprinsteen song! I thought it might be nice to inclue them here:

"Hey little dolly won't you say you will
Meet me tonight up on top of the hill
Well- just a few miles 'cross the county line
There's a cut little chapel, neastled down in the pines
Say you'll be mine little girl, I'll put my foot to the floor
Give me the word now sugar, we'll go ramroddin' forever more"

Ramrod Bruce Springsteen The RivernullRamrodThe River

John, whenever we think of you we smile. The three of us spent many happy times together. We'd drive over to your house and head off to catch a movie or go for a beer, or simply hang out in front of the TV searching out low budget shows such as "Bellamy" or "Bullseye". Whatever we did, we usually ended up laughing 'til we ached.

You loved music and movies with a passion. We remember you singing your heart out to Meatloaf or The Blues Brothers in your Austin Cambridge.

As this is read out, we are sitting in a Corsican church reflecting on the many times we shared with you.

We send our love to Sam, Ryan, Sadie, John, Robin, Olivia, Sarah, and to all our friends.

John, you had such a love of life and have left us way too soon. You were the dearest friend, not only great fun but caring, sensitive and loyal.

We are going to miss you desperately.

John and I met because of music.

I met him in about ‘93. I wasn’t long out of university, at my first proper production company job, and I was still shy, not one to force a conversation out of anyone. So thank god for Southside.

That day – of all days – I happened to be wearing a Southside Johnny and the Asbury Jukes tour t-shirt (Better Days, of course). I knew there was a freelance editor coming in to help out so, first thing in the morning, I walked down into the basement at Healthcare Productions, past the wall of nursing programmes in so many languages, and up to the edit suite. I say suite, it was practically a broom cupboard, so I didn’t walk in, I just stood at the door. John looked up from his bank of U-Matic decks, clocked the t-shirt and smiled at me.

And that was it. So simple. Of course, even without the t-shirt, I know John and I would have become firm friends, but I like to think that what might have taken a few weeks took, literally, seconds.

Over the years, he and Sam reintroduced me to Bob Seger and taught me that it was okay to love the ‘Loaf; and we went to gigs together – Steve Earle, Southside and, of course, Springsteen. But the one constant was the phone call. From every pesky Springsteen concert that I’d failed to get into, John would call me and let me listen to a minute of a song. I know he wanted to share the experience with me, knowing I’d get a kick out of a few bars of Backstreets. But I like to think that there was a part of him that couldn’t help but enjoy reminding me that he was there ... and I wasn’t.

One gig above all remains special: Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band’s reunion tour at Earl’s Court. It was the only gig I’ve ever camped through the night for: John and I in one of the underground tunnels in mid-winter, listening to our fellows playing songs on an acoustic guitar, and praying that we didn’t finally fall asleep next to each other only to wake up like John Candy and Steve Martin in Planes, Trains and Automobiles. (We didn't, in case you were wondering).

I guess what must have been John’s last gig was Springsteen again, this time in Hyde Park. We sat and chatted on a picnic blanket on a summer's afternoon, tolerating one of the support bands. Were we just going through the motions, had we simply done this too many times before? But then a ripple went through the crowd – the support band (New Jersey’s The Gaslight Anthem) had invited Springsteen onstage for one song. We leapt up and basked in the fun and joy of it.

John and I met through a love of music, and through music I’ll always remember him.

Peace, John.

Your friend, Ben.

It's so unbelievable that John is gone. I remember fondly the VW or Audi (it was always a German car ...) pulled up next door, the constant laughter and chat about everything and nothing, and Ryan playing in the garden with John and Sam. Such a terrible thing to happen to such a fabulous family: we are all just lost for words.
The O'Briens, next door to John and Sadie's house in Dublin