Honouring the Dead - Officially and Unofficially

At the Folklore Society AGM and Conference in March, my eye was caught by some trees in the staff car park at Leeds Trinity and All Saints University College. They were decorated with ribbons and flowers - the usual markers of vernacular commemorations of the dead. On closer investigation, it emerged that all of the trees also bore an official, manufactured, plaque. These were an official dedication to a deceased member of staff from the College itself. I do not know which came first, the official or the unofficial celebration, but it was a striking example of vernacular custom and practice being recognised and adopted officially.

Josh Beasley

On the 26th September I was in Greenwich. I don't get down there much, and I was struck by a lengthy wall of memorial graffiti on the Thames Footpath, just outside the Greenwich entrance to the Foot Tunnel.

Beginning at the left hand end of the wall, the heavily-covered memorial is clearly dedicated to 'Josh' (see above).

Seventeen-year old Josh Beasley went missing on Christmas Eve 2007, after going out skating with friends. His body was found further up the river a month later. He had drowned.

As is the case with other people who have died tragically young, Josh was commemorated by his friends in a number of ways. Photos on the Facebook Memorial page show that not only were memorials drawn here, but it was also the site of extensive floral tributes.

As ever, the messages are emotional, and great creative skill has been expended in the cartoons and images.

What surprised and impressed me was that the wall was still covered in these memorials nearly two years after Josh's tragic death. Other memorials I have photographed, like those to Khaleel Khan, were removed soon after their appearance. I hope that this means a more sensitive attitude to the grief enshrined here. It may be that the memorial is subject to constant renewal by Josh's friends.

Khaleel Khan

At about 12.30am on Saturday 30 May, 16-year-old Khaleel Khan was cycling with his cousin and two friends on Ron Leighton Way in East Ham when he was hit by a police car. Police and witnesses agree that the car was not using its siren. There is some dispute about whether its blue light was flashing. Khaleel hit the windscreen of the car, flew into the air, and then hit the road. He was pronounced dead half an hour later. The cause of death was a severe fracture of the neck at the base of his skull.

In a familiar pattern of memorialisation, the crash scene was shortly decked with tributes. Flowers, messages, and photographs were left along the barriers of Ron Leighton Way. Such wayside shrines have become a traditional form of memorialisation. (See, for instance, the tributes included in Scott Wood's photographs of such shrines).

What was so striking about the tributes to Khaleel Khan were their scale. Aside from the floral and paper tributes, friends also tagged the pavements of Ron Leighton Way and the walls facing the accident site.

The tributes covered walls on the Holme Road side of Ron Leighton Way.

There are nicknames and school affiliations, using SMS emoticons and referring to Khaleel by his initials (KRK).

The messages also ran across walls on the other side of Ron Leighton Way, and into the side street by the market.

The memorials were even run across the upper storey back wall of shops on East Ham High Street North.

Folklorists have a duty to record these memorials, a melancholy tribute to creativity. The photos here were all taken on Friday 5 June. The tags are already being erased.