Euolgy for Peter Grant


By Alan Callan

Alan Callan met Jimmy Page and Peter Grant in London in the late '60s, where Alan was working as a musician and producer. When Swan Song was started in 1974, Page asked Alan to come and run the operation, which he did until 1978. He remained in close contact with Peter over the years, and was asked by the family to deliver a eulogy at the memorial service held at the Hellingly Village Church in Hellingly, East Sussex in December. Portions of that eulogy follow.

Dear Helen, dear Warren, today you have conferred upon me a great honour by asking me to speak of your Father, Peter. The honour though is so challenging that the prospect fills me with fear. To begin to do justice to the life of Peter Grant by speaking o n a single occasion, may prove to be beyond my abilities. . . please forgive me as I try.
The greatness of his life was to see him amongst his peers and witness the love that was given him so freely, the greatness of his life was to experience the friendship that he gave so completely. In realising that I had enjoyed (and been challenged by) t hat friendship for 30 years, I also became aware that others, many of whom are here today, had known him even longer. The greatness of his life is reflected in that knowledge. To reach this day with so much is a more wondrous testimony than my words coul d ever convey.
His greatness was that he was a man of many parts. He was as adept at the ominous glance as he was at the disarming remark. He was a man whose mythology was a never ending treasure trove to the story teller in each of us. He could engage you in the great est conspiratorial friendship and you would know that through thick and thin he would fight with you all of the way—unless of course he thought you might appreciate the humour in a sudden change of plan.
On a very personal level, I want to say that through our ups and downs, good times, bad times, to me Peter was always a friend I could count on. He had never ending supplies of integrity, honour, compassion, thoughtfulness. If you were his friend, then to you he would give his all. Such measures of character are rare indeed and if any of you ever hear someone speak of Peter in terms other than these and wonder if he fell from his mountain top, I can assure you that no he didn’t, he just came down occasio nally to shake a few trees in order to show how high a man could climb if he were so inclined.
Now though, before I say my goodbyes, I know that Peter would want me to thank you all for coming today, he loved all of you and was fiercely proud of all that everyone he knew achieved. In fact, he was happiest of all when those around him were succeedin g.
His own success, that which he treasured most, was his family. Warren, Helen, Caroline, Amy, Lucy, Tiffany, you all were his greatest joy. There was no role, no deed he enjoyed more than that of devoted Father and doting Grandfather. I therefore would lik e to offer thanks to Helen and Warren for inviting us all here today to share in the most special remembrance of a great great friend, a great great man.
Peter, thanks for everything. God Bless. . . - Alan Callan, December 4, 1995

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