Elizabeth Marshall - Monday 15th May 2017
Terry Walsh (was) my cousin I used to babysit him in Liverpool and his brother Ray sister Sandra, his father and my mother Sarah Walsh were brother and sister. Lost touch when they went to oz but recently found them again through a friend in Spain and Aussie Angels, sad that Terry died so young.
Liverpool, England UK
Alan Cadenhead - Friday 3rd January 2014:
Hi Greg, Happy New Year to you. I was a big fan of Johnny Dole, so good to find your site.
Dundee, Scotland UK
Simon Chainsaw - Thursday 21st June 2012:
Nice story, photos etc ... lots I didn't know there and very interesting. That interview with Carlton is a classic!
Brazil, South America
Ryan Richardson - Sunday 17th June 2012:
G'day Greg! Really great to get more background and especially to watch that video again... amazing!
Austin, Texas USA
Personal note by Greg Morris:
My time in Johnny Dole & The Scabs lasted just under 12 months. I only knew Terry for this short period of time but he touched me in a way I can’t quite explain. During my time with the band he was nothing but a friend to me, all the guys were, we went through a time that was special and unique and that in itself is unique for this business. I had that bond with all of them you get when you’re in a band.
Things didn’t end well when I was “asked” to leave the band and I held a grudge about that for a while, but as they say "time heals all wounds" and the circumstances of it have long since passed.
I had the pleasure of catching up with Terry late 1981 and he was looking much better than the last time I saw him in 1978. He was with a nice girl and they looked happy together. It was great to catch up and have a chat and he was in good spirits. It was quite a shock to hear of his passing when Peter called to let me know. On that night in 1981 we parted company with a hug and I will always treasure that moment.
He was someone I call a friend and he was a special person, who got caught up in drugs and alcohol and that is never going to be a good thing. I feel for his brother Phil, who had to identify his body days after Terry passed away, as he told me “It was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do”. I can’t possibly imagine just how hard that would have been.
I’ve had the great luck to have recently been in contact with Phil and some of the information here has been provided by him. There are things he shared with me I would never have known about Terry.
So, thank you Phil, you have given me an insight into Terry’s life I will cherish forever.
RIP Johnny Dole.
Personal note by Phil Walsh:
Everything needs and has a mother and a father, even music genres.
To my mind the Sydney Punk scene, which came to an electric start in the late 70’s in Darlinghurst, can rightfully give credit to the fabulous Radio Birdman and Johnny Dole & the Scabs as “the Mum and Dad” of Australian Punk Rock.
Which was Mum and which was Dad, well, that’s for you to figure out.
Who cares, the baby they delivered was a pulsating, vibrant and exciting throb of new music injected into a disco dominated malaise of contemporary boredom at the time.
Speaking of parents, Johnny Dole and I just happened to share the exact same ones.
I have many memories of watching Johnny on stage, and also playing with him as a bassist and at times a drummer. I recall the almost scary intensity he would have when ramming mic stands through stages, of jumping as hard as he could up and down on sections of the stage with a pure intent to destroy, all in the spirit of rock ‘n’ roll and his newest baby, punk music.
He will never be forgotten for those exploits at the Paris Theatre and the Grand Hotel, without doubt some of the best live gigs I have ever seen or been involved in.
He was born to be a star, from the time he was a very small child it’s all he ever dreamt of, talked about, or wanted to be. Sadly, he never made it to the level he dreamt of.
He was a hard living and at times complex and unpredictable man, these parts of his personality contributed in no small way to an early death, just short of his 34th birthday.
More importantly to me, he was my brother.
He was literally the one who taught me how to tell the time, tie my own shoelaces and well, just be there for me so often.
I miss him with all my heart. I miss the all night conversations we would have about life, reincarnation, life after death and the universe. I miss the impromptu jams we would have at my place on acoustic guitars playing old rockabilly songs.
I miss the man.
If I had the chance to say one thing only to him right now, I’d tell him I love him and I am so proud of what he accomplished as Johnny Dole.
I love you my brother,
All You Need Is Love.
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