Euan A McIlvride

Yesterday we said goodbye to our beloved friend and colleague, Euan McIlvride.

On July 25, Euan passed away peacefully at home cared for by his family after a short battle with illness.

When Euan first joined MOJO in 2016, I was a senior legal volunteer.  It was far easier to become a senior caseworker back then, we had five times fewer volunteers and ten times fewer cases.  It was before Euan McIlvride revolutionised everything.

It was an honour for me to be asked to speak yesterday about what Euan meant to our Organisation, it’s people, and what working with him for the past ten years has been like.

The words one of a kind are used far too often, but I hope I can do justice to the dichotomy of self-contradictory traits that meant the phrase was never so aptly applied, as it applies to Euan.

Euan took himself very seriously, yet was also wickedly funny and often wildly inappropriate.  He demanded high standards of professionalism in himself and others but was also determined to bend every rule possible to breaking point.

He told us countless stories, would sometimes overshare, and then about other things he would be fiercely private.

He loved Bob Dylan. He loved Leonard Cohen.  He loved the Muppet’s Christmas Carol.

He was constantly available to provide sage advice to anyone who asked for it, but always robust when dealing with the other side.  In other words, exactly the type of person you wanted on your team.

He was rock solid.  He was afraid of no one and never once took a backwards step. 

He was always ready to give us all direction and guidance or have a full and frank debate at a minutes notice.

Anyone who knew Euan could tell you that he was a fisherman who just happened to become a lawyer.

He would share with us tales from his days out at sea from as young as thirteen, some of which were hilarious, some were quite surreal and others devastatingly sad. His stories had many characters but none were as colourful or as important to Euan as his late Uncle Ronnie.

When Euan wrote the eulogy for his Uncle Ronnie’s funeral he described him as “a citizen of this place [Euan and Ronnie’s home of Carradale] and a citizen of a different time”.  I can assure you that to the predominantly 18-21 year old students working with Euan that at times we felt that he was from a different place and time as well.

He was always stoic, maybe a little old fashioned at times but was fiercely competitive and determined to have the latest and most up to date gadget whether it be a new smart watch or tablet.

Euan worked his first three years with MOJO as a volunteer, giving the Organisation full-time plus hours seven days a week and never once put in as much as an expense receipt. He was incredibly hardworking and took on more work than a man half his age could ever have managed.  He done all that out-of-pocket until it became unsustainable.

He himself had been a victim of a miscarriage of justice in the mid-1990s before first securing interim liberation and then successfully winning his appeal against conviction. Euan described his experience of wrongful imprisonment as interesting.  He told me he learned a lot about himself and would not change the experience but did stress the impact that this time had on his family.

By the time he found MOJO, amongst other things he had been a fisherman, had been made partner in a law firm by the age of 21, became a millionaire and was bankrupted through no fault of his own by way of his wrongful conviction.

He must be the only person ever to have given evidence to both the Criminal Justice Committee of the Scottish Parliament and  the United Nations Fisheries Commission in the one career.

In ten years with us he trained more than 250 students, the majority of whom young professionals who went inherit their progressions better equipped to deal with the causes and consequences of wrongful imprisonment. Everyone who went through his training programme would tell you it was an interesting and useful placement whatever they went on to do.  I’ve no hesitation in saying that the Scottish legal profession in the broadest possible sense is richer because of the knowledge and life experience that Euan gave away.

To the people he helped, he gave them hope.  I was once asked by an applicant on the phone from Barlinnie Prison “are you the guy that got yourself out of here?”.  I wished so badly that I could tell him that that was me but I was proud to tell him that was Euan.

Euan has helped countless people in the last decade.  Through pro bono, specialist advice on appeals law and compensation for hundreds of people as well as through-care support for thousands of people in prison and their families.  People who were at their lowest ebb and going through the hardest experience they would ever have to endure.

Euan meant so much to so many people.  He was my mentor, he was my mate.  He was our comrade, he was our Shipmate.  Some man to be one man.

What he did for our organisation and our clients will be impossible to replicate. I am sure that he knew just how respected and appreciated he was by so many. 

We are going to miss him so much.   It still doesn’t feel quite real that he won’t be the first one opening up the office tomorrow morning.

Euan leaves behind Christine who looked after him tirelessly round the clock in his last few weeks, six children who he was incredibly proud of and ten grandchildren that he cared about so much. Our thoughts are with you all at this difficult time.

It was Euan’s wish for his funeral to pass discretely without an announcement.

We would like to thank everyone who has taken the time to send us words of condolence and support as the Organisation comes to terms with this tremendous loss.