Family Photos

 

I find this family photo charming.  It is not a mother and her sons, it is in fact my Father (on the left) his sister Lilian and brother Frank on the right.

The photo was taken in York in 1917.  I wish I had asked my Father about his life then and where exactly he went to school.

Dad would have been twelve, Lilian twenty-four and Frank fourteen. Lilian was, in fact, their first school teacher as she was an Army Schoolmistress. Through her,  they were already quite advanced in learning before they attended school and my father always said that he owed much to her. Always known as Lily, she worked many years abroad with the army. She married overseas and had a daughter, Marjorie and a baby son John.  Sadly her husband, who was a geologist, was killed in a motor cylce accident and baby John died just two weeks later and they are both buried in Egypt.  She later married the love of her life, Frank, who was serving in the Highland Light Infantry, when they were both in India and they had a son and daughter together. They were a wonderful couple, always so happy and cheerful. Frank was a great story-teller. They had a long and happy marriage.  Alas, a while after her death, Frank met a "lady" at the Pensioner's club he used to attend. By then he was frail and his mind was going.  Anyway somehow she talked him into marriage which split him from his two children.  After Frank died, she took all the family photos, all the diaries that Lily had kept since a child including the ones about the family during their stay on Bermuda and made a huge bonfire of the lot. Priceless family photographs and documents destroyed for ever, including one of my Father and Frank in full Highland dress.

Before the family settled in York, Dad spent a wonderful part of his childhood in Bermuda.  Not only did he love the tropical weather but he became a very proficient swimmer through diving with the Bermudian boys for pearls.  He nearly met his end when he was stung by a venomous jellyfish.  The doctor despaired but Dad's life was saved by his Bermudian "nanny" who used her own concoctions of herbs - both drunk and applied and saved his life.

Dad left school at fourteen and must then have left York and stayed with a family member in the South of England because he commenced working in London at that age, starting as an office and messenger boy, eventually working up to Manager and then becoming a partner in the firm. He worked for the same firm for sixty years.  He was a keen athlete, not only swimming but also playing cricket and taking part in walking races.

 

The above photo is of Dad taken when he was 20 years old.  I only have a photo-copy. The Ladies adored him  ( no wonder my Mum fell for him, I think he was very handsome) but he was extremely shy with women.  Five years after this photograph was taken he met and married my Mother.  Quite a romantic story.  She was the manageress of the fruit stall on Liverpool Street Station.  I do not know where Dad was lodging at the time but his office was very close to the Station and he must have gone to catch the underground train to get home.  He was with a workmate who fancied an apple so over to the stall they went. Thus Dad had his first sight of Mum and he must have been smitten because the following night he went back to buy apples and the night after that and ........... Eventually Mum had to speak up and comment on how many apples he bought and how he loved his fruit. He replied that it was her that he loved and plucked up the courage to ask her out.  He had previously been pushed into an engagement by his family that did not last. She had been engaged for six years to a man who would not set the date because of "his mother who might get upset".  Anyway within a week she had broken off her engagement to the other man.  Six weeks later, Mum got fired from her job.  The owner of the stall had wandering hands and having tried it on once to often with my mother, she socked him in the eye!!!!! Mum waited for Dad at the station and they decided he would take her home on the bus (completely in the other direction that he had to go).  They sat on the upper deck of the bus, the rain was pouring outside and Mum burst into tears. She was worried what her family would say about her being fired as she was still contributing to the family income.  She said she would have to find another job and quickly.  Dad told her not to bother. "You are marryingme, he said, and will not have to work".  So in six weeks they were engaged and married not long afterwards.  They had almost fifty one years together before he lost her.  He survived another five years but was a broken man, developed Alzheimer's disease and passed away on Boxing Day, the day after her Birthday which was Christmas Day.

During the WW2, he was at first an Air Raid Warden but on being called up he became an anti-aircraft gunner with the Royal Artillery and attained the rank of Sergeant.  Part of a mobile unit they travelled around the British Isles wherever they were most needed.  No proper recognition has ever been given to Ack-Ack crews who did such sterling work for Britain.  Due to the constant sound of the guns, Dad went completely deaf in one ear. Mum and Dad were separated for the whole of the war and only saw each other when he came home on leave.  She had to raise my two brothers single handedly.

He was a wonderful father, although he worked long hours so I did not get to spend as much time with him when I was little as I would have liked to.  He was intelligent, witty and kind. Always shy in company but people could always go to him for advice and for help.  He taught me many valuable things about life.  He encouraged me in everything. He was very wise and talked good common sense. His friends stuck with him all his life and the church was packed for his funeral.  I am so proud that he was my Dad and I miss him very much.