Margaret Lois Froggatt, 01 October 1935 – 02 December 2024

Written by Margaret’s daughter, Sarah Froggatt CG 1979

Most staff and students will remember Margaret Froggatt, Mrs Froggatt, as their colleague, friend, singing teacher and mentor, someone who stood up and made you feel good about yourself. She was definitely all of those. She was also a sister, mother, and grandmother, and perhaps little known to some, a classical contralto soloist who had achieved a few instances of those incorrectly-attributed Andy Warhol “fifteen minutes of fame”.

My mother’s fame came in several guises: Born on the same day, in the same year as Julie Andrews, she was also part of a musical family; her parents would sing and play the piano, and my mother would accompany them. When she was about 18 years old, she made one of her first “78” recordings, singing “Still is the Night” for a local radio station near Manchester. She attended the Royal Manchester College of Music, along with Harrison Bertwhistle, the modern composer, and John Ogden, the pianist, and later took singing lessons with the renowned Roy Henderson, famous for “performing at the first Glyndebourne season and teaching Kathleen Ferrier” (The Guardian,
2000). In the late 1960s, she performed on Opportunity Knocks, hosted by Hughie Green, and won ITV’s Saturday morning Talented Teacher three times in the 1980s. She was offered a recording contract with Malcolm McLaren for £100, but turned it down; he ended up paying Montserrat Caballé significantly more.

Margaret was born in Hazel Grove, Cheshire, barely four years before the onset of WWII. Living close to Manchester meant the family did not escape the bombs; sometimes she spoke about the makeshift bomb shelter in the back garden and Billy, the boy billeted from London to stay with the neighbours. There is even a photograph of the family and neighbours. Mummy was made from a time when you made do; you cared for your family, friends, and neighbours; you looked after strangers.

She hoarded. Sometimes to the point that you had to open cupboards slowly, which annoyed my father intensely. We repaired, mended and passed down clothes, or gave them to others. The fridge was always stocked, and as for useby dates, those meant nothing. If something was in the fridge, you could eat or drink it. We were taught to appreciate the importance of finishing the food on our plates and then using the leftovers in the fridge during the week. Nothing was wasted. Empty milk bottles were left outside for collection; you always returned other bottles or glass jars and collected the return-deposit. That mindset teaches you not to waste anything. These are life lessons that even her grandsons now live by.

Mummy was always the first to sing and dance, to be wickedly naughty with her sense of humour. All she had to do was give a look or a comment, which either made you roll your eyes or bite the inside of your cheek so you didn’t laugh. Mummy brought us up to love singing, dancing, poetry and life. As I remember her, I keep returning to the words of Alice Walker in Poem at 39: “tossing this and that into the pot;
seasoning none of her life the same way twice;” Life was not without its mishaps. She was prone to driving into lampposts, trees and bits of old tyres on the road, but she always survived. A few years ago, she drove her car into a road divider. When asked if she had had anything to drink that morning, her reply was, “Yes, a cup of tea and a glass of water,”. The policeman was not amused.

Margaret always dressed elegantly and appropriately. She had a collection of shoes, many of which were high heels, that would have put Imelda Marcos to shame. Until recently, she refused to part with most of them. She was also a stickler for good grammar, reprimanding vehemently anyone on the radio or television who “split the infinitive” or used an adjective in place of an adverb.

Mother was the first friend a young French au pair made in Altrincham, Cheshire. To this day, the lady, who became my godfather’s wife, has never forgotten Margaret’s selfless friendship. She not only took those who needed help under her wing, she was also a matchmaker!

She inspired so many lives, young and old, through her singing, teaching, mentoring and humour. Margaret taught us, and every pupil she met, to be curious, to seek and to discover. The first poem Mummy taught me was “Someone”, by Walter de la Mare, a poem of curiosity, published in a collection of poems for children, entitled “Silver Pennies”. The preface states, “You must have a silver penny to get into Fairyland”, and so I grew up believing in fairies.

She brought mirth to the classroom, telling her students that if they didn’t behave, she’d take off her wig, stamp on it and throw her wooden leg. (One day, she invited a boy who didn’t believe her to pull her hair! I leave the rest to the imagination.)

She used her singing to support an elderly pupil with dementia and to inspire younger students to overcome their struggles. In the words of one of her pupils, “Your mother was truly unique and one of a kind. I will forever hold her in my heart. She inspired me in ways that I will
remember forever. She always had the kindest soul, and if I can give even a fraction of what she gave to the people she cared about, to the world, then I know I’ve done a good thing.”

Margaret Froggatt left us on 2nd December 2024. She believed in God and believed she would eventually be reunited with those she had loved and lost. So, if Margaret made a difference in your life, please find a moment, a time, a day, to pay that forward and continue her legacy.

As published in the OGA Chain 2025