Dad’s Eulogy – 7 July 2014, read by Matthew Barter Dad was funny, strong, caring, and clever. A devoted husband, he was a father we could look up to, and a father who loved us as much as we loved him. Dad, as he would say, was in his 91st year when he passed away peacefully at home, surrounded by his family. Those 90+ years were full – serving in the Royal Navy in World War 2, followed by a similar time in the Merchant Navy, and then a full career in the Metropolitan Police, raising six children, a stint at Renault, and then retiring to an idyllic countryside retreat which we all as a family came to love. Born on 18th February 1924 in Peckham, South East London, the younger of two boys, dad was brought up in a loving family. At the outbreak of war, his brother Jim was called up into the army, but dad, still only 16, was evacuated to family in Norfolk, where he developed a close bond with his cousin Peter which remains as strong today. When dad was 18 and available for war service, following his love of the sea and the footsteps of his grandfather, he volunteered for the Royal Navy, despite his brother’s wishes that he should join him in the Artillery. You may have read in the local paper of Dad’s actions on the D-Day beaches of Normandy where he was Mentioned in Despatches for his bravery, an article which Jon put together on Dad’s behalf as part of the commemoration of the 70th anniversary of that event. Dad only ever told us the funny side of the war, but we know he did and saw things that most 20 year olds today couldn’t even imagine, and luckily both he and his brother came through unscathed. When Dad was demobbed in 1946 and had settled into an office job working for a firm of stockbrokers, he recounted to us that it didn’t take long for him to decide this wasn’t for him – he looked round one day at the old boys pouring over their ledgers, and used his dinner hour to go down to the docks, where he was immediately signed up on a ship sailing to the Dutch West Indies. Further trips took him to Malta, Egypt and Argentina. After a few years, he returned home, acquired a German Shepherd puppy called Fritz, and got a job with a local electrical company. During this time he met mum at a dance, when she was 18 and he was 24. So young and having done so much already! Dad was a member of the firm’s tug-of-war team, and in one competition happened upon an old school pal. He was a policeman and recommended that Dad apply. Dad wasn’t at all sure that he would get through the interview process, but he was clearly the sort of man they wanted in the Met and was one of only a handful out of the 40 or so applicants to be selected, going on to serve for 28 years. Mum and Dad married on 3 March 1951, and following a honeymoon in Brighton, lived off cakes from the wedding reception for their first week of marriage, before they both got paid and could buy more food! By the late 1950s, mum and dad were living in police accommodation in south east London with 4 children – Paul, Debbie, Jon and Jane. Mum was keen to find a home of their own, and when one of her aunts died, they were given the opportunity to buy her house in Ealing, where they moved in 1960. Matt and Hanna joined the family shortly after in 1961 and 1963. A family of eight was always going to be a challenge – Dad said he and Mum would spend half the year saving for Christmas, and the other saving for our annual holiday. Holidays initially were spent in England, on windswept Dartmoor, or a cottage by the sea in Dorset, and once a chalet in Wales where Mum and Dad had five of us and would take us up the local mountains – one of which we discovered a fully kitted out mountaineering group hadn’t been able to conquer! Then we discovered France, and for many years spent 3 weeks there every summer camping. Those holidays amounted to full blown expeditions, with Mum collecting food and piling it up in our hall for weeks before we left, and Dad being responsible for packing it along with all the other paraphernalia into our old Ford Zephyr estate – with two roof racks and a trailer to contain it all. As dad said, our holidays weren’t just holidays, they were adventures! Dad gathered many life-long friends over the years, not least of whom those made during our holidays in France. Dad retired from the police in 1977 and was asked to join the press team of the London branch of the French car manufacturer Renault – they were looking for someone to liaise between the press office and the journalists, whenever a new model was released. With Dad’s experience in the policeforce, including holding the highest driving qualifications they offered, his in depth knowledge of cars, and his personality, he secured the role and spent the next 5 years travelling around France and its immediate neighbours, meeting dignitaries, attending press conferences, staying in fancy hotels and wearing smart suits. Not really Dad, and the novelty soon paled, but he did develop a fine appreciation for French wines! Dad finally fully retired in 1982, so, with all of his children involved in their own lives, he and mum were free to pursue more of their own interests, in particular taking holidays in more of the far flung corners of the world, including trips to visit our sister Jane who was living in the Oman, then later in New Zealand and Australia. In Australia Dad had the dubious pleasure of ‘riding the Shot Over’ with his son-in-law Stuart, which involved tackling white water rapids in a dingy full of tourists. Suffice to say Dad and Stuart returned wet and shaken, and never attempted it again! After one of these holidays, Dad – who had always had a dream of moving to Dorset, following in the footsteps of his ancestors who had originated from Beaminster – put the house in Ealing on the market, much to the surprise of mum when she found out! Once mum warmed to the idea they spent many weekends travelling around the countryside looking at houses, finally finding Court Close in 1984. The day Mum and Dad moved out of our family home, Hanna and Debbie were visibly upset. What’s the problem, Dad said, it’s only bricks and mortar! Well, he felt a lot differently about Court Close – this was the home he always wanted, in the countryside he loved, where he and mum found a warm welcome in a friendly village. He spent 30 happy years here with mum, with lots of visits from their friends, family, children, grandchildren and great grandchildren, with baby Harry attending Dad’s 90th birthday earlier this year. We’ve celebrated two weddings in this church, and several christenings, and Mum and Dad enjoyed all the community had to offer, and have been involved in all sorts of different groups and activities. Dad was very proud of his home, and often said how he wished his parents could have seen it. Dad was also proud of his heritage, an Englishman through and through. We are just as proud, and are blessed that Dad was able to spend his last days in the home he loved, surrounded by the family he loved. God bless, Dad, you’re still with us, walking in the garden, working in the stables, sitting in your chair, and most of all in our hearts.