My friend Terry Conway, who has died of mesothelioma aged 69, was an exceptional singer and songwriter. Terry worked for 30 years as a council roadman and many of his songs are based on that experience. He was always uneasy driving snowploughs, and Winter's Weary Snaa' draws on the downside of both job and season. Hawkhope Hill was composed on his timesheet when his wagon was "bogged" during the building of the roads and houses for those locals displaced by the building of the Kielder dam. He used subversive wit and dialect to ballad the travails of the bus journey from Hexham to Morpeth. These and others of his songs have already entered the tradition.
Born in Corbridge, Northumberland, he was the only child of Catherine and Edward. His father was from Southport, where Terry lived until the age of four. The marriage did not last and Terry went back to Tynedale with his mother. Although he was christened Shaun Terence Conway, everyone knew him as Terry.
After leaving school at 15, he had jobs in a garage and with a builder uncle, and then worked for Northumberland county council. He took early retirement in 1998 and set up as a self-employed gardener around Hexham. You really could see a positive difference after Terry had been in your garden for a couple of hours.
In the 1970s, at Hexham Folk Club, he sang from the Tyneside and Clancy Brothers' repertoire, with his own effective guitar accompaniment. It was at this time he started writing songs.
Terry was a well-read and profoundly knowledgable man. Although he was a pacifist, he knew more about regimental histories than anyone I have met. When the singer Pete Coe was asked recently which song he wished he had written, he chose Terry's The Walls of Troy and described it as "the ultimate antiwar song".
In spite of his gifts in both writing and singing, Terry had no self-esteem. He was uncomfortable performing at paid bookings, preferring to busk. However, he was inspirational to many.
Terry was not interested in clothes or any personal show. He never had a new car in his life. He was at ease with people of all ages and was loved by all who met him. In illness he never complained, but was humorously stoic.
Terry had recently married Liz Law, his partner for 19 years. "I should have done it years ago," he said, "but I don't like fuss." Liz, a retired museums officer and librarian, regularly accompanied him on dulcimer and encouraged him to record two CDs of his songs.
His best-known song, Fareweel Regality, was played at his humanist funeral, with everyone joining in the memorable chorus. The verse starts simply: "And now it's time to say fareweel/ And though I hope that we may meet again/ And aal things may be reet again/ We've lived and spent the day."
He is survived by Liz and his stepchildren, Fergus and Alice.