My most powerful and enduring memory of Sandy Denny, was in a concert by Fotheringay in Newcastle City Hall. The orchestra pit had been boarded over and extra seats installed and I was sat somewhere in the 3rd row. For a large part of the performance, Sandy sat at the lovely New Steinway Grand Piano and sang. I never took my eyes off her, and was rewarded by acknowledged glances and smiles, but most of all, she looked directly at me as she sang through most of the concert.
Whilst feeling very special, I recognised something I’d done many years before, singing solo as a young boy in front of audiences. Looking out from a lonely stage to a sea of faces can be terrifying. I would pick out a person, usually a woman, who was intent on me, and sing to her, all of the other faces then didn’t matter. The feeling is very personal, and quite intimate.

Later, much later. I heard of Sandy’s untimely demise from someone I disliked intensely. Hearing it from him seemed to make the news even more hurtful, he was more than aware of how I felt about her.

There has been much said and written about Sandy Denny and latterly a review of a book about her is here Life and Times of Sandy Denny