Death
In the autumn of 1993 Johnston undertook a series of UK theatre tours, entertaining live audiences as a raconteur. On the morning of 2 December 1993, whilst in a taxi going to Paddington station en route to Bristol, he suffered a massive heart attack. The taxi driver drove him straight to the nearest Maida Vale hospital where he was revived, after a cardiac arrest. He was transferred to St Mary's Hospital, Paddington where he remained until 14 December. He was then transferred to the King Edward VII Hospital for Officers until he was discharged on 23 December. He was then re-admitted to hospital on 4 January when his health deteriorated again.
Brian Johnston died on the morning of 5 January 1994, at the King Edward VII Hospital for Officers in Marylebone, London. The Daily Telegraph described him as "the greatest natural broadcaster of them all" and John Major, the contemporaneous British Prime Minister and cricket fan, said that "Summers simply won't be the same without him". A memorial service was held in a packed Westminster Abbey on 16 May 1994 with over 2,000 people present.
Read more about this topic: Brian Johnston
Famous quotes containing the word death:
“Surrealism is merely the reflection of the death process. It is one of the manifestations of a life becoming extinct, a virus which quickens the inevitable end.”
—Henry Miller (1891–1980)
“Families suffered badly under industrialization, but they survived, and the lives of men, women, and children improved. Children, once marginal and exploited figures, have moved to a position of greater protection and respect,... The historic decline in the overall death rates for children is an astonishing social fact, notwithstanding the disgraceful infant mortality figures for the poor and minorities. Like the decline in death from childbirth for women, this is a stunning achievement.”
—Joseph Featherstone (20th century)
“I knew the poor,
I knew the hideous death they die,
when famine lays its bleak hand on the door;
I knew the rich,
sated with merriment,
who yet are sad.”
—Hilda Doolittle (1886–1961)