Sunday Express - September 15, 2002

transcription by Andy Haynes


My Gift As A Faith Healer by Chris de Burgh


The millionaire Irish Balladeer reveals a new kind of talent to Paula Kerr.

Without warning, Chris De Burgh is on his knees in front of me, his hands a 
couple of inches from my right ankle.  "It's all right", he gestures at the 
hotel lobby, "We're in a public place." He explains that he is demonstrating 
his little-known skills as a faith healer. "For 25 years, I've been aware 
that I can help when people are ill. I can pinpoint where they are hurting 
without being told and then channel my energy to make them feel better. I 
just feel it and afterwards, I'm full of strength, really happy I've done 
this around 100 times. I know I'm setting myself up for a fall by telling 
you this, but it's the truth," he says He knows he risks being jeered at 
for revealing his spiritual beliefs, but confirms he treated footballer 
Markus Babbel, who was suffering from the debilitating Guillain-Barre 
syndrome. The disease threatened to destroy Babbel's nervous system until 
De Burgh visited him in a Munich hospital last year and he's now fully 
recovered. "I'm accused of being sickly, a balladeer," says the Irish singer, 
"but that 's not the full picture. I'm an entertainer and proud of it. I'm 
thankful every day that I've been truly blessed with the gift of 
communication." Whether one believes he has been blessed or cursed, the 
longevity of his career cannot be denied. He signed his first record deal 
28 years ago and has released albums consistently ever since, selling 45 
million worldwide to date. His latest album, Timing Is Everything, is out 
this week. There's a safe and formulaic feel about the new album, though 
Chris argues: "I wouldn't use those adjectives. I don't write songs because 
it's easy I believe in pushing myself and I'm still learning as a writer. I 
write in the classical mould and try to say something in my songs that the 
average Joe can't." That he is able to write emotive songs at all is to his 
credit, given what can at best be described as an austere upbringing. Born 
Christopher Davison in Argentina, where his father, Charles, was posted as 
a British diplomat, he was sent when he was just six to boarding school in 
Bray, Co Wicklow, Ireland. When he turned 12, he was moved to Marlborough 
public school in Wiltshire. His father, meanwhile, began a new career as an 
hotelier after his father-in-law gave the family the 12th century Bargy 
Castle, in Co Wexford, to renovate. Chris and older brother Richard, now a 
commercial lawyer, would return there during school holidays. "When we 
moved in we had nothing, no furniture, no heating, no running water, no 
money and it was extremely cold. Richard and I were expected to work, so we 
would be sent to a well where we'd have to pump water for half an hour just 
to fill a few buckets." During the few weeks each year that they spent with 
their parents, the boys received little love. "My father was affectionate 
to a point but my mother came from a background where hugging just wasn't on. 
It wasn't her fault. Her own mother died when she was eight and she was 
brought up by a father who didn't know how to behave with children. My mum 
learned to hug because I wouldn't stop trying. I had to teach her." When 
the hotel was refurbished, De Burgh earned his pocket money by entertaining 
guests. "After dinner, I'd sing Bob Dylan's Blowin' In The Wind and play my 
guitar It was my first experience of playing to an audience." After securing 
a degree at Trinity College, Dublin, he adopted his mother's maiden name as 
a stage moniker and pursued a musician s life, hoping for a break. It took 
12 years and 4million of debt before De Burgh claimed his first UK hit in 
1982 with Don't Pay The Ferryman. He credits his mother Maeve with instilling 
him with the determination that would eventually make him a multimillionaire. 
"She's gentle on the outside but steely inside," he says. "She has terrific 
stamina. I learned from her that every time you are punched, you wipe off 
the blood an get up again." More hits followed, but he's still best known 
for Lady In Red, his "calling card", reportedly a favourite with the late 
Princess of Wales. He doesn't consider the song a millstone around his, 
neck.  I don't mind singing it over and over I see how it has brought 
people happiness, and I'm keen to share their happiness by singing it. The 
song was influenced by his wife of 24 years, Diane, 46. "We were out with a 
group of friends one night and smiled at each other across a crowded room. 
I wrote about that moment, though the red dress is incidental." The sentiment 
is touching and defined De Burgh as a devoted husband and father. But his 
marriage to Diane has, at times, tested them both. When they tried to start 
a family, Diane suffered a miscarriage and an ectopic pregnancy but their 
luck changed and Diane went on to have three healthy babies - Roseanna, now 
18, Hubie, 14, and Michael, 11. De Burgh was keen that they should have a 
loving childhood that didn't mirror his own. "I'm affectionate with my kids. 
I tell them I love them all the time." He risked their security and his own 
when he embarked on an affair in 1994 with the children's 19-year-old nanny 
Maresa Morgan. But De Burgh is not one for regrets. "We all make mistakes 
from time to time," he says. "I like the person I am today and have become 
that person because of all that has happened to me." Diane forgave him and 
they remain together. "I've no doubt that the woman I'm with is my partner 
for life. I'm extremely fortunate to have met her" Currently living near 
Dublin, the couple have spent six years renovating a 250-year-old house in 
Wicklow, which is soon to be their new home. "It's been painstaking but 
worth it," he says every day I say thank you for all I have and try not to 
be complacent I'm so lucky to be in this position."