Johnny Harrison was a lovely man. The late Frieda Harrison was John’s mother. David Harrison was John’s steph-father. John would always talk about the abuse that he had suffered throughout his childhood. He would become upset and cry, especially if he had been drinking.
Frieda Harrison had been dead for at least six months before John knew that she had died, how horrible is that.
Poor John didn’t even know that one of his brothers had died, nobody bothered to tell him. I was with JOhn when Neeven Benjamin told him. John was irate.
John, you were definately the black sheep of your family. Johnny, however, we all love you darling, sleep peacefully.
Love your friends,
Dorothy, Robert and everyone who well and truely love you.