Thank you Wendy. It’s astonishing how many people knew but still protected him. He visited me when I was in Leeds General Infirmary when I was 12. A big fuss was made of him as someone very special. I met him again when I was was working as a hotel receptionist and checked him in with a very young looking girl. I could see then what he was but the world shut their eyes. 😢
As someone whose life also intersected (very slightly) with that man, I am deeply appreciative of how you have written about him here. But for all the horrifying history, the cover-ups, the blind eyes and downright acquiescence revealed post mortem, which some of us faintly guessed at beforehand (I trust the archeologists will be smarter than we are, dig him up and say "oh, here's a seriously twisted and dangerous example of 20th Century celebrity insanity) I was - am - most deeply impacted by the loss of your daughter. Thank you for this sharing. I did my therapy training in Scarborough and still go there from time to time. I hope you don't mind that from now on I shall remember it not as the home of him, but as the place where your daughter lies at rest.
This piece is haunting, beautifully written, and deeply unsettling in all the right ways. The way you weave personal memories—childhood innocence, youthful naivety, and adult grief—into the larger story of Savile’s insidious legacy is masterful.
The part about his grave and the eerie thought of future archaeologists interpreting his burial as a marker of status really struck me. It’s a chilling reflection on how history can distort truth, just as it did in his lifetime. And the contrast between the tourists looking for his grave and your quiet, private grief at your daughter’s is devastating.
I appreciate how you captured the way celebrity warps perception. How people, even knowing something feels off, still get swept up in the script of fame. Your writing forces us to confront uncomfortable truths—not just about Savile, but about how we, as a society, enable people like him.
This is that paradox Wendy of the poignant and heartfelt beauty of your prose clashing hard against the repulsive icon that still lurks in his concrete sarcophagus. Your daughter's resting place, tended and tender, unnoticed by the hoards of rubber-necked parasites bent on a pilgrimage and another paradox, repulsive reverence. So well written. A moment to reflect. Thank you.
This is a stunning essay Wendy, you have threaded your personal loss with the public shame of his crimes so well. I’m so sorry your grief at your daughter’s graveside was interrupted by such insensitivity. Your point about the nostalgia of celebrity enabling him (and other men like him) is spot on - I once escaped a TV celebrity in his 30s who tried to take 16yr old me home from a nightclub - his entourage and my friend were so enamoured by who he was they were encouraging me to go. Thankfully I trusted my gut and didn’t get in his car. Girls walk such a tightrope trying to stay safe from predators in plain sight.
Beautifully written Wendy and a moving tribute to your daughter. I never had the misfortune to meet Savile, but I was aware of him in the early 60s from listening to the Warner Bros Records programme on Radio Luxemburg. Savile presented The Teen and Twenty Disc Club. He was creepy even then with all the annoying catch phrases. I wrote about him at some length here: https://pcolman.wordpress.com/2012/11/10/what-we-knew-jimmy-savile-and-the-culture-of-abuse/
I loved the structure of this so much - it unravels like a twisted piece of wool. The parts about your daughter's grave were quietly powerful and reveal so much about our relationship with 'celebrity'.
A beautiful essay about how celebrity worship can affect all of us, especially when it masks and hides unacceptable and hurtful behavior. I am very sorry this experience disrupted your visits at your daughter's grave.
Thank you so much for sharing this Wendy, it is such a powerful piece of writing. To think of you visiting your daughter and you both being disrespected in the way you describe is appalling and deeply upsetting, and I am so sorry you have had to experience this. I hope your visits with her now can feel more peaceful. Sending love x
Such a good piece of writing Wendy. And saying that feels like such an inadequate response given what you have shared.
I remember all the "jokes" about Jimmy Savile when I was at primary school (second half of the 80s) - I thought nothing of it at the time (why would I have done?) but looking back I can only think that it points to what an open secret his behaviour must have been in many circles....
Thank you Wendy. It’s astonishing how many people knew but still protected him. He visited me when I was in Leeds General Infirmary when I was 12. A big fuss was made of him as someone very special. I met him again when I was was working as a hotel receptionist and checked him in with a very young looking girl. I could see then what he was but the world shut their eyes. 😢
Amazing, goodness me, I bet you look back and feel like you had a lucky escape xx
Yes I definitely do. Fortunately he came into the ward so there were lots of people about. I remember feeling very uncomfortable with him. xx
As someone whose life also intersected (very slightly) with that man, I am deeply appreciative of how you have written about him here. But for all the horrifying history, the cover-ups, the blind eyes and downright acquiescence revealed post mortem, which some of us faintly guessed at beforehand (I trust the archeologists will be smarter than we are, dig him up and say "oh, here's a seriously twisted and dangerous example of 20th Century celebrity insanity) I was - am - most deeply impacted by the loss of your daughter. Thank you for this sharing. I did my therapy training in Scarborough and still go there from time to time. I hope you don't mind that from now on I shall remember it not as the home of him, but as the place where your daughter lies at rest.
This is such a kind thing to do, thank you x
I am very sorry your daughter died. This is a beautifully written piece.
Thank you Alison x
This piece is haunting, beautifully written, and deeply unsettling in all the right ways. The way you weave personal memories—childhood innocence, youthful naivety, and adult grief—into the larger story of Savile’s insidious legacy is masterful.
The part about his grave and the eerie thought of future archaeologists interpreting his burial as a marker of status really struck me. It’s a chilling reflection on how history can distort truth, just as it did in his lifetime. And the contrast between the tourists looking for his grave and your quiet, private grief at your daughter’s is devastating.
I appreciate how you captured the way celebrity warps perception. How people, even knowing something feels off, still get swept up in the script of fame. Your writing forces us to confront uncomfortable truths—not just about Savile, but about how we, as a society, enable people like him.
Thank you for sharing this. It lingers
Thank you so much for this feedback.
This is that paradox Wendy of the poignant and heartfelt beauty of your prose clashing hard against the repulsive icon that still lurks in his concrete sarcophagus. Your daughter's resting place, tended and tender, unnoticed by the hoards of rubber-necked parasites bent on a pilgrimage and another paradox, repulsive reverence. So well written. A moment to reflect. Thank you.
Thanks Glenn
Sorry for the loss of your baby daughter.
Vividly told, Wendy.
Thank you x
This is a stunning essay Wendy, you have threaded your personal loss with the public shame of his crimes so well. I’m so sorry your grief at your daughter’s graveside was interrupted by such insensitivity. Your point about the nostalgia of celebrity enabling him (and other men like him) is spot on - I once escaped a TV celebrity in his 30s who tried to take 16yr old me home from a nightclub - his entourage and my friend were so enamoured by who he was they were encouraging me to go. Thankfully I trusted my gut and didn’t get in his car. Girls walk such a tightrope trying to stay safe from predators in plain sight.
Thank you Anna x
Such an uncomfortable topic, Wendy. I would have no idea where to start but you write about it so well.
Thank you Katie x
Beautifully written Wendy and a moving tribute to your daughter. I never had the misfortune to meet Savile, but I was aware of him in the early 60s from listening to the Warner Bros Records programme on Radio Luxemburg. Savile presented The Teen and Twenty Disc Club. He was creepy even then with all the annoying catch phrases. I wrote about him at some length here: https://pcolman.wordpress.com/2012/11/10/what-we-knew-jimmy-savile-and-the-culture-of-abuse/
Thanks Michael, I enjoyed your article.
Thank you, Wendy.
I loved the structure of this so much - it unravels like a twisted piece of wool. The parts about your daughter's grave were quietly powerful and reveal so much about our relationship with 'celebrity'.
Thanks Elaine
A beautiful essay about how celebrity worship can affect all of us, especially when it masks and hides unacceptable and hurtful behavior. I am very sorry this experience disrupted your visits at your daughter's grave.
Thank you
So beautifully written, pulling so many threads together.
Thanks Sheila
Thank you so much for sharing this Wendy, it is such a powerful piece of writing. To think of you visiting your daughter and you both being disrespected in the way you describe is appalling and deeply upsetting, and I am so sorry you have had to experience this. I hope your visits with her now can feel more peaceful. Sending love x
Thank you Philippa
Such a good piece of writing Wendy. And saying that feels like such an inadequate response given what you have shared.
I remember all the "jokes" about Jimmy Savile when I was at primary school (second half of the 80s) - I thought nothing of it at the time (why would I have done?) but looking back I can only think that it points to what an open secret his behaviour must have been in many circles....
Me too Kaspa! Thank you x