Dad had many facets to his life – more than most of us. Fortunately, we persuaded him to write his memoirs which are fascinating, especially to the family, but also as a record of some very interesting events. If anyone would like to read a copy please let us know…
He was born in Atherton, a mining and milling town north of Manchester where his father Gerard was curate in charge. As it later turned out, and unknown to my grandparents, Dad’s healthy birth was seen as removing the curse of the house he was born in, the former owner of which had committed suicide!
Grandpa was accepted into the Indian Ecclesiastical Service shortly thereafter and the whole family went with him to India, initially to the diocese of Calcutta. At the age of 2 Dad was already demonstrating his view that sermons should be kept short. Apparently they stayed with the Bishop of Bombay who used to say his morning office in place of grace at breakfast, which could be somewhat of a trial for hungry visitors. After 5 minutes, Dad opened his eyes, saw a bowl of fruit, and when the bishop next paused for breath said a loud “Amen” and grabbed a banana!
He and his mother Margaret, and sisters Christine and Mary, returned to the UK when Dad was 7, and the next few years were spent at various schools. Some tough times for the 3 of them when Margaret returned to India to be with Gerard.
Dad applied to join the army during 1943 and after basic training was posted to India to join the 7th Ghurkha Rifles. He was briefly reunited with his father Gerard who he hadn’t seen for 6 years. Dad’s experiences included being mentioned in despatches, and also the partition of India into India and Pakistan – a period of major conflict frequently glossed over in the history books.
Like many of his generation, the war years made a tremendous impression on him, and were the source for many subsequent stories (which he needed little encouragement to recount!). His story telling gift served him well as a teacher, although the frequent harking back lead to his nickname at Gordonstoun being Pun, short for Punjab, as his stories all supposedly started “When I was in the Punjab…”!
He went to Cambridge University on leaving the army in 1948, and had 3 very happy years there – part of a generation of students with considerable life experience, who really knew how to have a good time. This was when he got in to rowing, and particularly coaching – a lifelong love.
After Cambridge, he started teaching at University College School in London. As well as teaching history and geography, he ran the school boat club, raising its standards dramatically. They won the London Schools’ League – the first time that St Paul’s had been beaten. He also had time for some extra curricular activities, at least that was when he met his wife to be, Elizabeth! We will hear a little more about that later…
This period was when he became involved in scouting – which in 1960 took him to Nigeria as Organising Commissioner for Scouts. He spent much of his time on great tours of the back country, training the local scout leaders. A key part of his job was to ensure that independence for Nigeria was reflected in an independent and effective Scouting organisation. His organisational skills were honed with a variety of events, including several regional Scouting Jamborees with thousands of scouts attending, and also one of the key organisers at the World Jamboree in Greece with a cast of 30,000 including Crown Prince Constantine the Chief Scout in Greece.
Other events during this period included marrying Elizabeth, and the birth of myself, Nicola and Sarah!
The return to the UK was in 1965. A brief period in Welwyn Garden City north of London where Dad managed the stadium, also saw the birth of William. Dad then returned to his love of teaching and accepted a post at Gordonstoun in the north of Scotland.
The next 10 years were busy with all the varied activities at the school – teaching, Scouting, sailing, expeditions, and being a housemaster for 2 years, as well as a busy family life. Dad was heavily involved in the local community, particularly with Holy Trinity Church in Elgin. It was during this time that he was priested in the first group of non-stipendiary priests in the diocese.
Over the back wall where we lived in Hopeman were the Day family with whom we all got on extremely well. John Day was Director of Studies at Gordonstoun, and returned to Australia to become Headmaster of The Southport School. He notified Dad of several jobs over the years, and finally the offer of Chaplain and History Teacher at St Hilda’s came up at the right psychological time, and saw the family emigrating to Queensland where he taught at St Hilda’s and subsequently at Somerset College and The Southport School.
Dad was a tremendous organiser and force for good in the community, being particularly effective at identifying needs and getting activities up and running, though perhaps not always good at the political side of things. One of the things he was most proud of was the founding of All Saints Anglican School, which would not have happened initially without the time and efforts of Dad and John Day in particular, who with Elizabeth were on the founding board of governors. It was very much a family affair with Will & Sarah being the first employees who temporarily manned the office and took “bookings” of new pupils, and Mum being the first full time employee. She went on to be Head Master’s secretary and much loved Registrar for many years.
Dad really enjoyed his work in the diocese and particularly his various locums once he had retired from full time teaching. A certificate of appreciation from Brisbane valley parish shows how successful he was. His most recent project has been helping John McMurray with the child care centre in this parish which will I am sure be of tremendous value to the parish and community.
Woodwork and related hobbies were a continued outlet for his energies, though his circular saw was perhaps a mixed blessing for the neighbours. Although not all of his DIY efforts were total successes, others were - just have a look at his woodwork present in this church.
Family was always tremendously important to Dad, and while being a bit biased, I think he and Mum did a pretty good job of raising us. He also fully supported us as adults, and respected our views, though when not in accord with his own rather conservative opinions some famous family “epistles” were the result!
Distance did not diminish family affections, and I will always remember Dad and his sister Mary coming over to Oxford when Christine was dying of cancer a couple of years ago. The three of them together in a 1 bedroom flat for a couple of months was quite a demonstration of family commitment and support!
The end when it came was remarkably quick, and I believe that this was only because of his abundant faith and lack of fear. We will remember him as a loving husband, father and grandfather, a man who was at peace with himself and with God, and a shining example to us all.