Skip to main content

100 years on

My father was born one hundred years ago today.  A Glasgow man, an academic, a communicator, fiercely principled, intelligent and wise.  He had a history degree from Glasgow University, and a first in PPE from Balliol College, Oxford.  He was at Oxford with the politicians of the 1950's, 60's and 70's.  Prime Ministers Harold Wilson, Edward Heath, and other Parliamentarians such as Roy Jenkins, and Jo Grimond, leader of the Liberal Party during the early 1960s.  This was the party my father supported, wrote parliamentary speeches for, and lamented when it began to dwindle and fade during his later years.  

Dad fought in Burma during the Second World War, and apart from one or two comments, he never mentioned that period of his life.  There was just one leftover from the whole ghastly experience which he passed on to us, as children, and which I continue to pass on to my children and grandchildren, and that is always to lie with the sheet across your lower back, covering the kidneys, when trying to sleep in very hot weather.  This helps to avoid catching a chill in the cooler hours of the night!  

My father was a journalist.  He worked in Fleet Street in the days when newspapers had some integrity.  He was Deputy Editor of the long-departed News Chronicle, and then, later, leader writer on The Daily Telegraph.  But those were not his politics so he wasn't there for long.  He ended his working life as a Director and Trustee of the John Lewis Partnership, a business model he respected enormously.

Every Saturday morning he would go to the library and come home with an armful of books. He worked his way through them in no time at all!  He loved to read, a pleasure he has passed on to his children.  His favourite author was Henry Williamson, whose books about the life of a Devon boy compiled in The Flax of Dream (my favourite books of all time), and Chronicles of Ancient Sunlight are probably not so well known these days, but the animal stories, Tarka the Otter and Salar the Salmon, may be familiar titles to you.  Dad had them all on his bookshelves.  When the time came to sort through all his books, we counted over 2,000. 
There was much, much more to the man.  But this is not an obituary, it's just a few words, written in loving memory of my father, an extraordinary individual, born a century ago today.  He gave so much to me, which I continue to appreciate, develop and give thanks for.

Comments

  1. 100 years... Goodness!
    What a fascinating life your father led! I can see where your love of writing, books came from! A daughter he would be proud of!
    I didn't realise he'd served in Burma!
    My grandfather died during that campaign ... Though he got an OBE for his service! He managed to help get 800 civilians to safety!
    No wonder your father never mentioned that time, it was truly awful from accounts I have heard!
    100 years! Lovely words ... Xx

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

In a vase on Monday - colour

The intense colours in my vase this week come from nasturtiums, sweetpeas and a single glorious zinnia! Their beauty and love of life speak for themselves and need no further words from me! Enjoy!

Found items IAVOM

I am on holiday on the Inner Hebridean island of Colonsay. It is my happy place. Thoughts of Colonsay rattle around in my head each and every day I am not here! I haven't got a vase to share this week but some lovely things I have found over the past few days, which are just as beautiful as a vase of flowers! I hope you agree! Here are some leaves of giant rhododendrons, growing in the outer gardens of Colonsay House. Some skeleton leaves of magnolia. The dried stem of a kelp seaweed. A couple of conkers (can never resist those!), and a branch heavily populated by a number of lichens. The air on Colonsay is so clean that lichens flourish here!

Colonsay postcards - on arrival

The first thing I do, once we have unpacked our car, which has been groaning with all the stuff we need for a week's stay in the holiday cottage, is head for the outer gardens of Colonsay House. It is a place of wonder for me! I particularly love the leaves of the giant rhododendrons. There are many different varieties, all planted in the early 1930s. The outer gardens are generally overgrown, having had little tending over the decades. That makes them even more magical! The old woodmill falls apart a little more every year, but that's fine by me because I love corrugated iron and especially if it's rusted! And of course the bees. Colonsay's beekeeper, Andrew Abrahams, has one of his apiaries on the edge of the pine wood. So lovely - the hum of busy bees and the heady smell of the pines. We are here - finally! Delayed by four months by the wretched virus, but now I am on holiday! Hooray!