I came across this picture of my father the other day. It must have been taken some time in 1969. The photo appeared in "The Hull Daily Mail" connected with the opening of our village's first purpose-built youth club. Dad was the main driving force behind that project. Working it out, he would have been fifty five years old in that picture. Ten years younger than I am now.
He did so many things for the village. He was also the main driving force behind the establishment of public playingfields. He was a church warden. polling officer at election time and he fought The Church of England to win back a financial legacy that had been intended for the betterment of village children. He gave so much to his adopted community. In comparison, I feel like a dwarf. I have given so little.
He was the headmaster of the village primary school from 1952 until his retirement in 1978. Sadly, he died from a heart attack just one year later. There was standing room only at his funeral service in the village church. He was greatly respected.
Dad and I had a special bond that grew stronger when I arrived at adulthood and became a teacher. We talked together like friends - not like son and father. He was a gentle, kindly man and he loved me as much as I loved him. I still miss him - his worldly wisdom and his kind heart. It is a shame that my two children never knew their paternal grandfather.
Nowadays people are snapping photographs of each other all the time but even in the nineteen seventies surprisingly few pictures were taken. The idea of a "selfie" would have been seen as distastefully narcissistic. The picture at the top of this post is the best one I now have for remembering him as he was in his later years.
His name was Philip. He was born in Norton, Yorkshire the day after war was declared upon Germany - August 5th, 1914 and died on September 14th 1979 in a hospital bed in Hull. He was of course the best dad ever.
Your dad is very dapper. That's another thing about the era he grew up in. People made the effort to look smart. No arses hanging out of pants in thpse days!
ReplyDeleteHe nearly always wore a tie - except when he was swimming or wearing his pyjamas.
DeleteI am always a bit jealous of those who had good fathers. Maybe next lifetime for me! But I am glad for you that you did. What a gift!
ReplyDeleteI am sorry that the man who was your father wasn't someone else.
DeleteThanks for sharing a little bit about your father with us, Neil. I agree with Christina, he looks dapper! I love how nicely people dressed in those days and wish a little of that would come back.
ReplyDeleteI am a slob in comparison.
DeleteFrom what I remember, my dad also always dressed in a tie and white shirt when he was outside the house. And a hat. But, inside the house, he just wore his t-shirt, if I remember right. I do remember that I loved to iron the white handkerchiefs that he would put in his breast pocket.
ReplyDeleteYour memory of him seems rather unclear. When did he die?
DeleteWhen I was nine years old.
DeleteSorry. You probably blogged that information before but my memory sometimes operates like a sieve.
DeleteA lovely tribute to your Dad. He looks a lovely kind soul. I had a great relationship with my Dad too and miss him dearly. I know just what you mean.
ReplyDeleteWe were both lucky ADDY.
DeleteYour father set a great example, and you became a great father in turn. Don't think you have contributed little. Just the other day you mentioned how, as a teacher, you have influenced (for the better, of course) so many students, in places near and far. Also, your weekly shift at the Oxfam shop is a valuable contribution, and the things you have done for your neighbours as well. You are a good man, Neil, and your Dad was no doubt proud of you and would have been even more so if he'd lived long enough to meet your wife and children.
ReplyDeleteI think it's harder to make a mark on community life in a city. Thank you for these kind thoughts Meike.
DeleteWhat wonderful memories of a special man. Hold on to these memories and pass them on to your children and one day to your grandchildren as well. It is up to us to pass on these special memories of our family's ancestors.
ReplyDeleteI will happily follow your advice Bonnie.
DeleteWe all have our own ways to contribute to the world. That is how I justify my existence, anyhow :)
ReplyDeleteYes. There are different ways. It was easier to make visible contribution to community life in a village. It's harder in a big city.
DeleteYou were fortunate to have had your father in your life. My brother and I never did. Your father looked like such a kindly gentleman, Yorkie. :)
ReplyDeleteYou still miss your Dad...and that is understandable. My mother passed away in 1974; my grandmother in 1976, and my brother in 1998. I still miss them...this will never change.
Gone but not forgotten.I sometimes think that this is what "haunting" is really like and it isn't scary at all.
DeleteYour Dad was definitely one of a kind and helped develop the community. It was a different age. Nice tribute to your Dad.
ReplyDeleteThank you Red.
DeleteI can see the family likeness. You look a lot like him.
ReplyDeleteWe all do what we can. Don't forget, you have taken your teaching right to the other side of the world. It's a bigger and much more complicated world these days.
It's interesting that you see a resemblance when I cannot see it at all. That does not mean that you are mistaken.
DeleteWhat a great find. He sounds like an amazing man. Do you have copies of the newspaper articles the photo ran with?
ReplyDeleteI find the idea of a "selfie" distastefully narcissistic even now! (But then I'm from an older generation too.)
No Steve. No sign of the associated newspaper report. Some people seem to think that camera phones were only made for taking selfies!
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