We lost Nick.
Lean and sallow. Nicotine wreathed in the nineties. Back when Pebble Mill was the BBC in Birmingham he was a proper journalist, one step from a gumshoe eye. Inquisitive and intelligent, listening and laughing – empathetic. He’d known Graeme for years before Stan’s Cafe got going. As we were finding our feet he started covering national stories on Radio 4. He recorded Gorby’s obituary three decades before it was needed. Just when we thought his career was really motoring, with London calling, he stepped away from all that.
He was looking ahead, our network maven. He owned a laptop before we knew such things existed, its efficacy delighted him. While we were still swearing at dial-up he switched his career on-line. A fast connecting world held the promise of more people gaining greater agency over their lives. He was determined to hold the future to this promise. With knowledge a function of power, data needed democratising. Organisations needed to learn how to communicate with people. Citizens needed to learn how powerful they could be and how much they could do for themselves. He got stuck into all this. He introduced us to Twitter early, back when, like him, it was full of encouragement and enthusiasm. He introduced us to interesting people, people who became collaborators the Waterstones alumni nexus and more.
Being freelance meant he could be contracted. As result a bunch of schools on the far flung Frankley estate were releasing podcasts long before celebrities got in on the game. He stepped in when we invited 120 Year 9 students to take over the city council chamber for a day. When we speculated about making a show explaining the dysfunction of Birmingham City Council’s budget his was the first number we called. Immediately delighted, he started rehearsing why the show would be important and running through who he would connect us to and why.
There was only one person to call when The Commentators decided they must cover Birmingham’s 2024 General Election. We needed a producer and he was brilliant, in his element, research done, reading the room, relaying key information, loving both the absurdity and seriousness of this endeavour.
Death and departure of friends are the most austere and bitter accidents that can happen to a man in this life
The Anatomy Of Melancholy: Robert Burton
His hansom house in Balsall Heath served as a key location for The Anatomy Of Melancholy when we filmed its adaptation in lock-down. This wise old text contains consolations for loss. It encourages us not to dwell on futures stolen by his absence, but to celebrate that fact that he was with us at all. We celebrate how he enriched our lives, how much he did, how much he shared, how much he taught us, how much he made us laugh, how much he loved us and we loved him. What a great person. What a great friend.
Nick Booth died after a simple accident at home on 15th April, 2025.
This tribute is written from a Stan’s Cafe perspecitve (but omits the fact he was on our board for a while). Of course there are as many perspectives as there are people who knew him. Three further reflections are gathered below, they give a greater insight into what he achieved and what he was like to be around.
Our greatest sympathies rest with Nick’s wonderful family who we also love very much.
https://notes.peteashton.com/2025/04/16/thinking-about-nick-booth.html