It was a fine day with a light breeze.
Here is a link to a video of the first part of the service:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pjPj6Yj7xeg
After the first hymn (The Lord’s my shepherd), the Vicar spoke, followed by Michael senior, Mark and Michael junior and then Mother Mary. Then the final hymn (Come let us sing of a wonderful love).
Michael's Speech
My Brother (1)
We grew up in West London during the war. Many of the people who lived in our road were from other parts of London and from other parts of the country. They were making a life for themselves. After surviving the hardships of the 1930s they were uniting to survive the war. Because of this time and place there was a very strong good neighbourly spirit and a feeling of cooperation. “We are all in this together.” There was also a feeling of optimism which seemed to contradict all logic.
Perhaps it was this background that led Peter to develop two of his most notable characteristics.
He was very good at making – and keeping – friends.
And he had an optimistic and positive attitude; the ability to find enjoyment and humour in every experience – however unlikely some of them seemed.
As a young boy he was rather quiet and diffident. I used to go fishing with my friends and sometimes we would take him along as a treat, to be with the big boys. We would find an old rod and a few scraps of tackle for him, and tell him to sit quietly and see how it is done. Once we went out at three o’clock in the morning to catch carp. We were not successful but Peter pulled out the biggest roach that any of us had ever seen. On a similar occasion we put a scrap of worm on a tiny hook for him and he caught a pike. And his most notable achievement was to hook a rod and line. And when he wound it in there was a barbel on the hook. I attribute these successes to his optimism; if you expect to succeed you do.
My Brother (2)
We were members of the first generation of working class children to be able to compete for places in secondary education. First me, then Peter and then Margaret went to Southall Grammar School and in secondary school Peter was in his element. He became a member of a group of lively fellow spirits who were soon well known throughout the school. It was a little disconcerting for me. I had entered the school two years before him but found that I was being addressed as “KB” - Kelly’s Brother.
He enjoyed a great laugh when he took a holiday job – in a sewage works. He had to dress and undress in the garden when he went to work and when he came home.
It took him no time at all to launch his career. He managed to by-pass the tedious round of application forms and interviews. He went along to the labour exchange to make enquiries and was offered a place in the Ministry of Labour where he stayed for the rest of his working life, making his way through the civil service hierarchy.
Of course, he was soon very well known in the office. I remember trying to telephone him at the Hayes Labour Exchange. Unfortunately, the girl on the switchboard found my voice very like his. When I asked for him, she just burst into laughter assuming that Peter was playing a practical joke and she refused to connect us.
He enjoyed some hilarious holidays. At Robin Hood’s Bay he spent a night up a cliff after being trapped when the tide came in. I went hitch hiking with him in France but we were not very successful. The only time that we were offered a lift was when we had been standing for hours in the pouring rain and somebody took pity on us. We were given a very long ride but , unfortunately, it was in almost the opposite direction from where we had been aiming.
He was a few months after me in completing National Service. My attitude was to keep my head down and avoid being recognised but his was the complete opposite. His stories of the badinage that he exchanged with the Sergeant Major made my flesh creep. He was polishing the floor under a bed before an inspection when the CSM came in and said, “What are you doing there?” Peter said, “I’m digging a tunnel”. On the range, his machine gun jammed. The corporal in charge became very excited, “Keep still, don’t move!” The problem was solved and the corporal said, “That wasn’t difficult was it..” Peter replied, “Well, it took two of us.
Peter has gone but his qualities of optimism, humour and enjoyment of life remain. We can see them in his children and in his grandchildren. And that is how we will remember him.
Mark’s speech
Our Dad was a real one off, looking back to our childhood years it is difficult to know where to start.
I completed our family of five when I was born in Bishop’s Road in Hayes End. We didn’t have a car then, and often travelled by bus. When the bus conductor cranked out the long family ticket, Dad would amuse us by folding the ticket up, then a rip here a rip there and hey presto, a boring ticket was transformed into a line of happy people. Great fun for us, but it left him red faced on at least one occasion when the ticket inspector stepped on at the next stop, and asked to see our tickets.
He was practical, innovative and liked to do things in a traditional way. Bath time took on a new dimension one evening in the early 1970’s, when we encountered a large blue plastic bath full of grapes to the side of the bath tub. Then the fun began! In age order, after a quick bath, we hopped into the blue bath full of grapes, and with whoops of encouragement from Dad, commenced to tread the grapes, a crucial step in creating a fine wine.
He was creative and imaginative, telling us bed time stories about the amazing adventures of Egbert the magic carrot. He added sound effects and dramatic animations, which brought the characters to life holding our attention throughout. We always wanted to know what happened next, to which he would reply “you’ll have to wait till tomorrow”. This is probably because he hadn’t written it yet and didn’t know himself! We always thought he should have had these stories published.
He had an interest and knowledge in so many different things. I can remember as a child standing with my brothers in the garden looking up into the heavens on a cold and starry night. Dad would point out Orion, Ursa Major and Minor and other constellations, as well as Jupiter and Mars.
He enriched our inquisitive minds by introducing us to the natural world. Showing us different birds and animals. At one stage he had a grass snake and slow worm, which he encouraged us to handle carefully. Michael took the grass snake to school and I took the slow worm. Not your average pets, and our teachers were not particularly impressed, especially when the slow worm bit me as I presented her to the class. Dad was surprised (although probably not as surprised as my teacher), but on investigation he established that they could be a little grumpy when pregnant. The next day we discovered that our snake population had increased from two to about 100!
He was a patient teacher, helping us all to learn games such as chess, ride bikes, ice skate, swim, sail and in later years he was an oracle when it came to helping us with homework.
Dad was a talented singer, could play the guitar (and apparently the washboard) and was a good actor. I remember going to watch him starring in the Mikado. At the Chalfont Centre for Epilepsy he co-wrote and starred in pantomimes put on by staff for the entertainment of residents. I regularly recall waking in the morning to a burst of song (usually Mikado or Tom Lerer) coming from the bathroom.
He had a great sense for adventure. We had some marvellous boating holidays over the years. In Scotland one year we were all on a 35” yacht, heading to Arran, when Dad could see something in the water ahead. At first we thought it was a Submarine, then as we got closer an overturned boat, then he realised it was a Shark, with what looked like a smaller one swimming behind. Still he bore down on it. I’d recently watched the film “Jaws” and the phrase “We’re going to need a bigger boat” sprang to mind. With just yards to go we suddenly realised it was a single basking shark probably as long as the boat. Just before it dived clear, Dad always says I had started to climb the mast.
And Finally, how could I not mention his wonderful sense of humour. He grew up listening to the Goons Show, and enjoyed many different comedy’s. The sixty’s and seventies had a wealth of classic comedy’s and sitcoms like Monty Python, Dad’s Army, and Fawlty Towers which Dad used to enjoy. His musical taste included classical, jazz as well as the Bonzo Dog Doo Dah Band.
He was truly a wonderful father and role model to us. His love and encouragement throughout our formative years has helped each of us successfully through our various pathways in life.
Michael's speech
In November last year Dad kept having stubborn infections which got to the stage that he needed intravenous antibiotics which have to be administered in hospital. After this he had some scans in Aberdeen where they diagnosed secondaries of lung and bone cancer, and eventually primary prostate cancer.
This meant that there were lots of people all across the country who wanted to be kept up to date with Dad’s condition.
So I started a blog. This meant that I could put information online where friends and relatives, whether in Lerwick, London or Australia, could be kept informed.
Initially Dad was too ill to post himself, but as his health improved it was all but impossible for him to ignore this captive audience.
So we have a number of pieces of his writing that perhaps we wouldn’t have seen otherwise.
In January and February, one of Dad’s ambitions was to make his 75th birthday in April and get his free TV licence. In the blog, he says:
‘My new walking sticks are good, light, and easy to trip up passers-by with’.
and
‘My dietitian has said that my liking for dark chocolate should be encouraged as it is a good source of iron. So I am often to be found with an After Eight mint or a Fry’s Chocolate Cream’.
and
‘Over the holiday I have checked that I can still drink Champagne with no ill-effect.’
In March and April, Mum and Dad began moving into their new house. This process had a few problems, including the saga of the phone line.
This began when their old number was moved to a non-existent line at their new house, and their existing number changed without their being told. From this inauspicious beginning things went downhill.
Peter says:
‘A man came yesterday with a spade to say that he would connect the telephone wire but people didn’t like him digging on their land.
So we would have to dig the cable in ourselves.
Janet told him that we did not mind him digging on our land, and why did he carry a spade if he didn’t do any digging? Did he have the ferry timetable engraved on it?
She then started to tell him the story of our phone line.
The man soon realised that there are only a limited number of ferries each day, and if he waited for the end of the story, he and his spade would be spending the night on Fetlar.
So he agreed to dig in the cable.’
In May and June, Dad and Mum had at last moved into their new house, just in time for an influx of visitors. After a visit to Yell, Peter writes:
‘We went to Yell and saw a peewit with a young one. It was just a ball of fluff with a dark mark on its head and long legs.
The thing is – what do you call a young peewit? We have tried split pea and half wit.’
He also writes:
‘The South West window is interesting because there is always a view of Papil Water and the beach to the south of it. Sometimes this is just a lovely view, and sometimes it is decorated with ducks.’
In July and August Dad’s chemotherapy was stopped as it was having no effect on the cancer but it was certainly making him feel unwell.
And then in September, while trying to escape from his armchair, Dad slipped backwards to a loud cracking noise and a lot of pain from his hip. This led to more scans and the discovery that he had very bad arthritis in his hip along with more cancer.
I am so very glad that I started the blog, but I cannot claim any credit for Dad’s wonderful writing. His humour, wit and positivity shine through it.
If anybody is interested in reading the blog, there are QR codes for the technically minded, and the web address for normal people, at the back of the church.
