SMITHERS

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Smithers

Billingsgate Fish Market, London. The Smithers profitably traded there originally.

Smithers is my mother's maiden name. It is the Smithers family and their descendents who make up virtually all of the relations in my life. Luckily, you have met and got to know many of them so they are not strangers to you either. This is a bond that endures and I encourage you to maintain it.

The Smithers family lived mainly in what is now south London, around Dulwich, Walworth, Camberwell and into Surrey.

A good place to start with the Smithers is with my great grandfather, Robert Smithers, born in Camberwell, Surrey on the 7th March 1847. He died tragically young at 34, as I will relate, nevertheless, he had 7 children — Florence b 1871, Robert Alfred b.1872, Thomas b 1875, Alice b 1876, Walter b 1878, Frederick — my grandfather b 1879, and James b 0.1880

Elizabeth Smithers' suicide in 1867. Elizabeth was married to Robert's brother William and is the "salesman" mentioned here. A sad little story.

Robert snr married Mary Jane Brewer b 1848 in St Giles' Church in 1870. Mary Jane herself must have been a formidable woman, dying in 1943 at the age of 95. According to my mother, Mary Jane was a bit of a tartar, insisting that my grandmother and her sisters my great aunts Alice and Minnie, "should sit up straight" when they were in their forties and fifties!

Robert snr was a fish salesman in Billingsgate, the big fish market in South London. He must have earned a reasonable living at it, as the older boys in the family were sent to a

Masonic School according to family tradition. My Auntie Dorothy (of whom much more later) insisted that they were "very wealthy", but as with all things Dorothy, that might be overstated.When Robert was only 34, he went to work but returned before midday complaining of chest pain which he put down to eating a steak for breakfast. Mary Jane went to a local chemist, a Mr. Oldfield, to ask for his help.

Apparently, Mr. Oldfield had been acting as a doctor to the family. Mr. Oldfield prescribed for Robert but to no avail and Robert died suddenly the next day.

At the Coroner's inquest, Mr. Oldfield was censured by the Coroner for giving medical advice. Mr. Oldfield claimed that "he had passed all his (medical) examinations except the final". Judging by the symptoms, I think it highly likely that Robert had a dissecting aortic aneurysm and there would certainly have been nothing anyone could have done in those days.

On the left, Mary Jane Dunn (formerly Smithers) nee Brewer, standing outside the Brewer family home in Chislehurst, Kent, England. Next to her is her brother and sister taken probably in the early 20th century. The house, called The White House looks straight out of a Dickens novel. Mary Jane is my great grandmother born in 1848.

Mary Jane was left with 7 children and no regular support. I don't know how much the Smithers family would have assisted her but in those days there were no social security benefits and as we will see in other parts of the family, there would have been a desperate need to find another breadwinner husband and quickly. Consequently, she married a Mr. Dunn much against the wishes of the Smithers.

According to Dorothy, Mr. Dunn was a "No Gooder" and the family was said by her to be disinherited by the Smithers and so the children ended up in a home as Mr. Dunn was unable to support them all. They had one son between them, Arthur (Arty) but after that I don't know about the Dunns.

Being in the children's home probably cost, too. When my Grandfather, Fred was 10, he was said to be passing a cartage yard when he spotted wagons being painted. He went in and asked if he could get a job. He must have had ability, because he was taken on and eventually had a very successful sign-writing career. He ultimately went into business with his elder brother, Robert. (I wonder whether the elder brother got him his first job because he was already working there — who knows.)

Another brother Thomas married and emigrated to Canada and began a sign writing business there. There was tragedy in that family too as either the father or the son committed suicide by shotgun. More than that I do not know.

Thomas Smithers married Emily Reynolds probably in the early 1900s

Thomas Smithers. The picture of his signwriting van taken in the 1930s. He has the look of a successful businessman, so I don't know where the suicide story came in. Also, this doesn't look like Canada. California or Arizona more probably. The Figg family relatives lived in Tucson I think.

According to Dorothy, the arrangement with Robert was unhappy however, because Robert was said to be a very unsuccessful sign writer and he also drank heavily. Fred decided to differentiate himself from Robert by changing his trade name to "Sersmith", a transposition of Smithers of course, and going into business for himself.

Fred worked hard and built up a very successful business. He was said to have had an "excellent thumb". In the late Victorian and Edwardian era, shop frontages could have raised wooden letters cut and glued to the fascia over the windows.

These were commonly adorned with very fine gold leaf, and were generally applied with a rubber roller, but Fred was said to be very expert with his thumb, and could complete the work much more quickly. (See next photo) If you remember your chemistry, you will remember that gold is a noble metal, that is, one that does not tarnish in the open air. And of course, it looked very shiny and classy for many years. My mother well remembers being sent to his suppliers for books of gold leaf.

I don't imagine they could have been cheap and that would have been a big responsibility for a little child. (It must have been a very law abiding neighbourhood too, for that must have been a very tempting target for criminals!).

Cyril & Fred Smithers standing outside 142 Lordship Lane, probably in the 1920s

In later years, Fred had a big contract to paint all the service station signs for the "Shell" petrol company in South Eastern England. Both my mother and Dorothy well remember the house at Lordship Lane full of "Shell" signs.

In the 1930's my mother remembered being taken to Piccadilly Circus to see one of the first neon signs in London. Grandfather said to my mother, "There is the future". There was a new era in signs. The fact that Grandfather Fred could not interest either of his two sons (my uncles), Leslie and Cyril in the sign writing business was said to have broken his heart and the cause of not a few harsh words.

In 1906, Grandfather Fred married Florence Louisa Quick. Her father, Charles Robert Quick was a printer in his own right and occasionally worked for Cassells publishers a firm founded in 1852 at Ludgate Hill, and still publishing I think.

We have this photo of Charles Quick, and he is a handsome, well to do man with twinkling eyes. That he was well thought of in the industry, there is no doubt. I have seen a tankard and silver tray in Paul Graham's possession, given as an expression of appreciation from his colleagues from the turn of the 19th century. There is a family story that suggested that he was also popular with women, and was said to have kept 2 or 3 other ladies in town!

My Maternal Great Grandfather Charles Quick, taken about the turn of the 20th century

He must have been very busy, also apparently being involved with the popular Crystal Palace firework displays.

Be that as it may, Florence was a diminutive wee thing, probably no more than 4' 11 (1m 50 centimeters) tall. My mother claimed that by the time she was 12, my mother could lift Florence over her shoulder. Although it's hard to imagine this actually happening, a photo taken of Auntie Joyce, Florrie, and my mother at Clifton in 1933 suggested this was entirely possible!

It's of relevance that Florence suffered Rheumatic Fever as a child and this may partly explain her small stature.

Joyce, Grandmother and my Mum. My Mum was 12 and already taller than her Mum. At Clifton Beach, near Bournemouth. Summer 1933

After Fred and Florence were married, they originally lived in Colwell Road East Dulwich, but in 1911, they bought a semi-detached house at 142 Lordship Lane, East Dulwich. It's 142 Lordship Lane that we think of as the Smithers' family home and what a ring the address has!

Just a word about this neighbourhood. In 2004, Paul Graham took me to see the area.

Amazingly, it is pretty much as it was 100 years ago, with very little changed. I was struck by how close together the addresses are. From Lordship Lane one could easily walk to the Quick's house in Underhill Road, and to Colwell Road where Mary Jane Dunn (Smithers) lived. Boyson Road too, where Robert Smithers lived is within walking distance.

From the pictures you will see that the house at 142 Lordship Lane has 3 stories, and 4 if you count the basement, which is below street level. There was not much frontage but a big garden at the back, possibly close to a quarter acre. It was typical of houses in that area.

142 Lordship Lane, Dulwich, London, taken in 1995.

Pity poor Florrie, little as she was, toiling up and down 4 flights of stairs with laundry and coal buckets!

My Smithers uncles and aunts began arriving in 1907, with Frederick Charles Leslie Smithers born on the 1st September.

Dorothy Frances Smithers born in 1908, Cyril George Raymond Smithers in 1910, Gladys

Irene Vera born in 1914, Vida Joyce Winifred in 1916, and finally, my mother Elsa Eileen Joan Smithers in 1921.

Without ever having been part of it, it is hard to escape the idea that it was a busy house, full of activity.

Dorothy has provided me with a large part of the story of the Smithers family story. According to her, they were wonderful years, so much so, that Dorothy was reluctant to leave home.

By 1914, there were already 4 children in the house when World War 1 broke out. From this distance it is hard for us to understand the immense enthusiasm that war breaking out engendered. To young men throughout Britain and its Empire this was an opportunity not to be missed especially when it was widely believed it would be all over by Christmas 1914. By 1918, hardly a family in the British Empire would be untouched by loss. Florrie's cousin, Albert Figg, died on the Western Front.

Dorothy recalls the population turning out en masse to see the local boys marching off to war, through Lordship Lane and with flags waving, bands playing and enthusiastic cheering. Shopkeepers threw goods to the boys to help them on their way.

Although 35, and a father of 4, Fred was called up on numerous occasions, but was rejected because of deafness.

Incredibly, as the survivors returned home, they brought with them the "Spanish" flu. This was a monumentally bad influenza outbreak, and as if the world had not suffered enough, millions more died from flu, around the world. Dorothy said that at 142 Lordship Lane everyone was ill at about the same time, and poor old Florrie had to manage as best she could! The house was full of carbolic spray, which was thought to be an effective protection.

With the 1920's, the world had changed radically. A whole generation of young men were dead, and many young women had no hope of marriage. Moreover, because of the insatiable appetite for men to serve at the Front, women took over many of the jobs traditionally held by men. Once the war was over, women were not turning back, and they began to expect a working life, at least before marriage and children, if it came. I myself recall many families with a daughter "staying back" to look after Mum and Dad until they died, and by then they themselves were often old and lonely "spinsters" — we don't hear of that term any more, but even when I was a child it seemed surrounded by an aura of sadness to me.

The human spirit is always resilient however, and there was a surge of energy with plenty of work to do. This was the jazz era, and the rise of the movies and radio.

Grandad Smithers always had plenty of work on hand and consequently times were good for the Smithers family.

Dorothy, Florrie, Joyce and Eileen (Mum) outside 142 Lordship Lane. A number of young men in attendance, none of whom appear to be Cyril or Leslie. Dorothy's admirers from the Tennis Club perhaps? Early 1930s.

I think most, if not all the children went to Dulwich Hamlet School, which I think was both a primary and secondary school. Dorothy said it was about 2 to 3 kilometers walk to school in the morning starting at 9am and an hour and a half for lunch when the children all had to walk home for a hot meal, which was the main meal in the middle of the day. They had to be back at school by half past one.

Of course, there was 13 years between my mother and Dorothy and whilst Mum was starting school, Dorothy would have finished it and had started working by then.

I will come back to both Mum and Dorothy in more detail later.

From what both Dorothy and Mum have said, it must have been a very noisy and busy house. Fred and Florrie were very sociable and liked to entertain. All of the children in the house learned music of some sort, Leslie sang and played the violin a bit, Dorothy learned the cello, Cyril played the violin, I'm not sure what Joyce did, maybe the piano, but my mother sang. (I have only heard my mother sing once in my life — "My curly headed baby" a Negro spiritual — I think originally sung by the Negro bass singer Paul Robeson.)

There were entertainments most Saturday nights, which presumably meant sing-a-longs. When Joyce and my mother were a little older they were able to go up to the balcony and watch Cyril play in the dance bands.

In 1922, the forerunner of the B.B.C called radio station 2 L.O, went on air and by 1925 had become the B.B.C. The fact that radio programmes were broadcast caused a great interest in crystal radio sets. This allowed people to build their own receivers at home from fairly simple materials. It basically required a fine wire "cat's whisker" to just contact a crystal (galena-lead based) and create a semi-conductor effect.

This had to be connected to a tuner to work. Therefore, great concentration was required to set the tuner to get the signal from 2 L.O and to keep the "cat's whisker" in just the right contact on the crystal to get any sound in the earphones. The fact that Cyril had the set, only he could listen to it and that everybody else in the room had to keep still and shut up apparently provoked no end of fights!

The family was wealthy enough to enjoy summer holidays, usually on the south coast of England. For quite a few years, Mum belonged to a touring cycling club along with Leslie, and we have many photos of them camping and having fun at the beach.

Dorothy and my Grandmother at the beach. I think this motorbike is immobile!

Fred and Florrie were able to afford a little motorbike, but to general hilarity it was unable to go up any hill of consequence with two people on board. Poor old Florrie had to get off and walk behind until they reached the top of the hill!

Whilst in town, Fred and the boys cycled to where they were going, but there was danger in the roads, as if they were incautious enough to get the bike wheels caught in tram tracks they were obliged to walk their bikes to the Dulwich depot to get them out! It was never made clear to me what happened if a tram came along!

As the older children neared adulthood, the house began to ring with political debates.

Hackles and voices were raised. Tempers flared. Fred was a strict conservative, and probably the boys and Dorothy were too, but it was obviously too much to resist for the boys to play Devil's Advocate and especially once Dorothy got offended it would be hard to imagine a more volatile mix! Yet they remained on speaking terms, at least while they lived at home.

According to my mother the little ones were not entitled to political opinions and were told, "If I want your opinion, I'll ask for it." That may have been attended with a smack, too!

My Smithers Uncles and Aunties

Leslie

Uncle Leslie I don't know too much about. The photos show him to be reasonably tall and fair and judging by the photos we have of him, given to clowning around!

Leslie with Sarah (then Morris) mid-thirties. This is an intriguing photograph. Cyril and Leslie did not talk to each other for 20 years apparently. Why, I don't know.

I think he must have been quite athletic, and my mother followed him into cycling in later years.

As I have said already, Leslie did not want his father's signwriting business and became a builder, I think. My understanding is that at some stage this was not entirely successful, but

I don't know much about it. I think I must have visited Uncle Leslie at Farnborough where he lived, in the early fifties but I don't really remember much about it. Leslie married Doris Mary Wallis (Auntie Dee) about 1934 to 5. I have met Dee and she was a very jolly person. Leslie died in 1973. They had one son, Peter, born in 1935.

Peter Smithers, my cousin, married Patricia Finnegan in 1973. In recent years, we have struck up a reacquaintance with Peter and Pat. They have 2 children, Richard and Lesley, now in their thirties.

Peter and Pat's wedding day. Uncle Leslie and Auntie Dee with bride's parents 1973.

Dorothy however is quite a different matter! Red headed, with a temperament to match, she had a steely determination that marched over every adversity. An amazing personality; she dominated all of my childhood memories of the Smithers, and is well known to you all. A whole book could be devoted to Dorothy, and I will come back to her later.

Cyril

Cyril too, has an interesting story although unfortunately I have met him only once or twice, the last time in 1979. Like Leslie he had no interest in Grandad Fred's sign writing business. I believe he was a talented musician, playing the violin, and performing with the famous Jack Payne Dance Band apparently when he was a teenager. (The Jack Payne Dance Band in 1932 can be heard playing on You Tube.)

Cyril married Sarah Morris in about 1935. They had 2 children, my cousins Raymond born in 1936 and Diane, born in 1945.

Cyril and Sarah Smithers in 1935, my uncle and auntie.

Cyril joined the R.A.F before the war and was caught in Dunkirk, in France in 1940. The British forces were in retreat from the Germans in Europe, withdrawing to the Channel coast and were surrounded there. By a miraculous and largely improvised effort, some 330,000 Allied troops were evacuated from Dunkirk under the guns of the Germans. Incredibly, at about this time Cyril and a mate discovered a motorbike, requisitioned some petrol and made it to safety in the South of France thence back to England.

Cyril and Raymond, my cousin in London 1937

Read the whole story of Dunkirk for yourself. Of it, the incomparable Winston Churchill, (then Prime Minister) said, "There was a white glow, overpowering, sublime, that ran through our island (Britain) from end to end" — what a wonderful way to encourage a nation to see a massive defeat as some kind of moral victory, which indeed it was!

After the war, Cyril worked in electronics both in Sir Alan Cobham's Flight Refuelling Company and I think also Ferranti, who at one time were in guided missile production.

When I was about 9, I visited Uncle Cyril in Wimborne. Raymond must have left home already but I think Diane must have been about 12. She was deputed to show me around a miniature village in Wimborne. We did not meet again until 2000 some 40 years later. We have since struck up an apparently great friendship with Diane and her husband, Keith. You will have met Diane and Keith in 2009 when they came to New Zealand for the first time.

Gladys

There was another auntie, Gladys born in 1914, but with a sad tale. Apparently, she was a fit and healthy little girl and very much like my mother to look at. However, at the age of 8, she took ill and was put to bed. The family became very concerned for her state of health, sent for the doctor who apparently came ungraciously, not wishing to be bothered, and pronounced that Gladys had bronchitis and left. Gladys died of pneumonia shortly afterwards.

You have to remember that antibiotics weren't really invented until the early 1940s and only then available on a very limited basis. It was only in the 1950s that the Americans developed the manufacturing technology to make them widely available. Before that, pneumonia was feared, as it was fate that decided whether the patient would pull through or not. Resolution was said to be "by crisis", and literally it was the darkest hour before the dawn.

It is amazing to reflect on the dramatic changes in life that technology has brought. Always be a supporter of good science and technology.

The Smithers family in the back garden of Lordship Lane in 1916. From l to r, Leslie, Florrie holding baby Joyce, Fred, and bottom, Cyril, Gladys and Dorothy. The photographer apparently took a long time to get ready and was already receiving the famous Dorothy glare!

Joyce & Len

Auntie Joyce was born in 1916, and if Dorothy was an eagle of dominating personality, Joyce was a cheerful soul. Mai and Lan will remember Joyce and she was the ultimate obliging personality, always putting others before herself. Sadly, in 1979, I tried to record listen to her! No amount of persuasion would work, and all I have is her laughing from her kitchen.

Dorothy told us that Joyce had "double pneumonia" as a young woman and again was thought lucky to survive. Dorothy also ascribed Joyce's "nerviness" to St Vitus' dance, an uncontrollable twitching and writhing as part of Rheumatic Fever. However, since this condition is limited to children, has nothing to do with pneumonia, and only lasts for a few months we can take this as being unlikely. Nevertheless, Joyce had a very nervy manner.

Dorothy and Joyce got on pretty well, but it was hard to imagine they came from the same family, as Dorothy had affected a very "posh" accent, whereas Joyce had a Southeast London accent, as had all the others in the family. (Listen to the recording I made of Dorothy in 1979, and this reminds us, as nothing else can do, of her essential character)

During the War, Joyce served in the Women's Volunteer Service (W.V.S), I think as a firewatcher. During W.W.2 England was subjected to continuous bombing, particularly during the Blitz, towards the end of 1940, which was intense bombardment of London and all major towns and cities in Britain. The role of the firewatcher was to station themselves on a tall building and report fires to the fire brigade, started largely by incendiary bombing.

She married Charles Albert Graham (forever after known as Len) in 1944. They had three children, Colin Peter born in November 1946 who died a month later, and I don't know the circumstances. Paul Michael Graham was born in 1947 and John Malcolm Graham in 1949 and these are the cousins you know.

As a child, I visited the Grahams a few times in Anerley in South London but not as often as Auntie Dorothy.

There is no doubt that Uncle Len was in charge of the family and Joyce was deferential to his wishes. Uncle Len worked as an insurance salesman for the Prudential Assurance Society. This was an interesting organization in that premiums were collected weekly or fortnightly from the policyholders in little envelopes. It was Uncle Len's job to drive around them all, from door to door, in his little Mini and get the premiums, answer questions and troubleshoot generally.

Even in 1979, when Len explained it to me, it sounded very labour intensive and it's hard to believe that business is still conducted like that. Len didn't always enjoy the best of health, and he died in 1986. The family wondered what Joyce would do, after a whole married lifetime of having every decision both large and small, made on her behalf by Len. However, we witnessed the most wonderful metamorphosis. With Len's Prudential savings, she bought a time-share in Spain, and stood for, and was elected to, the East Grinstead Borough Council.

Joyce had a very productive and busy 10 years before succumbing to bowel cancer with liver secondaries in 1996.

Dorothy

I would like to talk now about Dorothy. A little of her childhood and teenage years you already know. Dorothy had a good education at Grammar School and had a good business head on her shoulders.

In the 1930s she had become a floor manager in glassware in a large Department store in London. In about 1937 she went on holiday at a Butlins holiday camp and there she met Bernardus van Kampen. (Uncle Bernie). Bernie was part of a Dutch family that had come to live in Britain and Dorothy must have been impressed with this cultured young Dutchman because they married in 1938.

Dorothy and Bernie's Wedding, 1938. My mother and Joyce as bridesmaids. The other lady is (Vivienne?) van Kampen.

Bernie was a cultured and reserved man, but suffered from Grand Mal epilepsy and this was a bar to any progress in life and he felt that any form of responsibility would be enough stress to provoke fits — certainly when they occurred it would have been very distressing for the family. This did mean however that he never progressed from his job as a filament winder in the Osram light bulb factory in all his working years.

For all her ambitions, Dorothy had to be content with the modest income that Bernie brought home. Yet, to my knowledge she never complained about Bernie and although she had to completely run the household she never ceased to love him and missed him greatly when he died.

It is probable that at the beginning of the marriage Dorothy herself would have saved enough money to buy a house, and on one occasion, we were walking in Imperial Avenue in Pinner next to Rayners Lane and she pointed out quite a large detached house and garden and she told me that at the beginning she wanted to buy the house and could afford it but Bernie felt worried about taking on the responsibility of a mortgage and so it never

happened and, Dorothy never referred to the fact again.

So, in 1939 they rented a flat in a new block up at the top of Pinner Hill at the junction of Imperial Avenue and Rayners Lane — 334 Rayners Lane, Pinner, Middlesex — how many times have I written that address on an envelope, I never will forget it! We have all stayed there and many happy memories we have of it. Dorothy and Bernie lived there all their lives, never once moving.

Dorothy made music central to her life and enjoyed playing in an amateur string quartet, which included Bernie and his sister. Bernie may not have been the most enthusiastic participant. On one occasion he was reputed to have knocked a music stand over on to the cello punching a hole in it. Dorothy was aghast apparently calling out "Oh Bernie, look what you have done!" — but Bernie apologetically said "Never mind, my dear, I think I can repair it". In fact, he could, illustrating that in effect, he was a highly talented artisan.

Dorothy and Bernie had a Grandfather Clock in the corner of the lounge, which I think was made around 1800. Bernie was the only person to keep the clock in working order and keeping the time. With a 200-year-old clockwork mechanism and pendulum weights, and without any instruction this was no mean feat.

This was a marriage that remained very strong despite all. In 1973, Dorothy prepared breakfast for Bernie before he went to work, but he never appeared downstairs. She went upstairs to find that Uncle Bernie had died of a heart attack. He was just 64. The Van Kampen family had a terrible history of heart disease.

Dorothy, to the end of her days wistfully spoke of him, she missed him terribly, I think.

Two children were born to Dorothy and Bernie, Anthony Bernhardt in 1943 and Christopher Royle in 1945. Especially in childhood, Anthony and Chris in particular, became my closest cousins.

Although, Bernie was never likely to make it to the top, and Dorothy herself was resigned to the role of wife and mother, she never doubted that her children would be famous.

Without much money she pushed the children as far as she could and beyond. They could not afford the best clothes but Dorothy herself tailored shirts and trousers for them. Chris and Anthony were said to be the best-dressed children in Rayners Lane.

She got them to the best schools she could, and they went to Grammar School.

Anthony was placid and although extremely talented as a draughtsman was only moderately successful in music, a career that Dorothy so craved. Nevertheless, Anthony played the double bass for the B.B.C Symphony Orchestra for some years and latterly became very interested in Renaissance music to the extent of building replica but fully functioning Renaissance instruments such as the viol. Anthony, like his father was extremely talented with his hands.

Chris and Anthony practising at 334 Rayners Lane. Later, Anthony played the double bass but Chris stuck with his beloved cello

Christopher was the opposite personality, bubbling with energy. Everything about Chris was a million miles an hour. He was the closest of my cousins, and we had many happy hours together. I met up with him infrequently but there was sure to be fun when we did meet. Chris was mad on cricket and a game at the nearby (W)ratt Park was always on the cards. (In 1992, we took Chris and Marcia on a tour of the North Island. We stayed at Utuhina Springs, in Rotorua. After a full day of sightseeing, Chris settled himself to watch England play Australia in a Test Match in England. I cried off just after midnight, but I awoke in the morning to find Chris still engrossed in front of the T.V)

As a child, I do recall that he had a phosphorescent skeleton which we had to view in Dorothy's broom cupboard in order to appreciate the full splendour!

As far as I can remember, we only quarreled once and that was at Rayners Lane. Dorothy's flat was on the first floor, and the landlord was a grocer who had a shop underneath. Apparently, the Van Kampens were forbidden to make a noise during trading hours, and the landlord was inclined to storm up the steps and tell Dorothy off. (Brave man!). Apparently, playing the piano in Dorothy's lounge came into this category, and I was surprised by an attack from Chris that had us fighting on the carpet! No lasting damage though!

Christopher however had tremendous talent and with Dorothy's guiding hand behind him, became one of Britain's top cellists. Chris studied at the Royal Academy of Music in London, and was a finalist in the B.B.C Cello Competition in his first year of study. In later years, he performed with the B.B.C Symphony Orchestra, the Royal Philharmonic, and London Sinfonietta and in particular the Nash Ensemble, one of the U.K's foremost Chamber Music groups under Amelia Freedman. Dorothy left no stone unturned to get Chris heard by whoever should hear him. Almost coincidentally, he obtained a B.A in mathematics at Trinity College, Cambridge.

Chris came out to New Zealand to concert tour on at least 2 occasions. He came out in about 1971 and I introduced Kim to Chris and he introduced his wife, Marcia which was the beginning of a great friendship all round. I think he must have been back around the mid to late seventies because he ended up visiting my mother and Felix in Ashburton, a place he must have felt was akin to Siberia.

In 1992, we hosted Chris and Marcia in the North Island after a concert at the Wellington Festival of the Arts. We spoke of the visit to Ashburton and came up with the slogan for the area- Ashburton-where even the vegetables are depressed! My apologies to the good Ashburton folk, but at the time Chris and I rolled around laughing!

Sadly, this was the last of the golden weather. Chris and Marcia split, I think in many ways this was to do with Dorothy. She demanded his total and adoring attention and there was really no place for poor Marcia. It split the family in half. Jeremy and Joanna could hardly bring themselves to visit Dorothy afterwards.

Interestingly, Dorothy also played havoc with Anthony's love life. She blocked anyone she didn't think suitable for Anthony. At one stage, he was seriously courting a nice Australian girl. But when she turned up from Australia to see him, she told her that he was out of the country, a big fib! Eventually, Anthony basically eloped with a German girl Julia, who later became his wife. He told Dorothy that he was going to set them all up in a little house in the Lake District, and then did a flit to Germany and got married and stayed there! (Dorothy did go to the wedding and accepted the inevitable, but by then Anthony was 51!)

In 1996, Chris had a contract to play music for the European Soccer Cup finals being played at Wembley Stadium. He felt tired and began to become noticeably jaundiced. He put this down at first to a tropical gastroenteritis, but alas it wasn't so. After several visits to the specialists it became obvious he was terminally ill with pancreatic cancer. This is a nasty disease with a mean survival time of 11 months.

Chris at first consented to conventional palliative surgery, but later wanted to try alternative medicines, including some Professor in Zurich who claimed he could cure him with crystals. In 1997, Pete and I visited Chris for the last time. He asked me what I thought of his alternative medicine plan.

Under those circumstances when conventional therapy can no longer help I suggested he go ahead and try it even just to hope for a little while longer, so long as it didn't bankrupt him. It was difficult to know what to say for the best.

As it was, the cancer ran a predictable course and he didn't last much longer. It was a very sad demise. He had formed an attachment to the clarinettist in the Nash Ensemble, Tony Pay and he looked after Chris in his last days. Marcia was not welcome, and Dorothy remained in denial till the end.

I think Dorothy lost the will to live after that. She had a small heart attack, and recovered, fell over and broke her shoulder and recovered, and then developed bowel cancer. In her last few months she moved out of 334 Rayners Lane after some 60 years of living there and went to a Council Flat. Typically, Dorothy put a brave face on it-everything was wonderful and so convenient, but her heart and will was broken and she died in 1999 aged 91. Marcia used to say; somewhat ironically "I don't think Dorothy will ever die", but no one has ever cheated death yet. Not even Dorothy. She was a great character and I'm glad you have met her.

my Mother

On January 7th, 1921, my mother, Elsa Eileen Joan was born. She was the last of the children, born 5 years after Joyce. She was a bonny blonde little girl, and apparently very like Gladys to look at, almost as if she was sent as a replacement.

On the 21st of March 1921, a life insurance policy was taken out on the life of my mother with the Wesleyan and General Assurance Society. On the payment of a premium of one penny per week for the rest of the insured's life, maximum payment of ten pounds and sixteen shillings (About $33 N.Z.D in today's money face value-but probably more like 4 to 5 times the average weekly wage in real value) was payable to the parents at the time of death or 75, should the child live beyond ten years of age. It does tell us of the uncertainty of the time that one would ever consider a policy of this nature. I think it would have paid for funeral expenses

In her early years she was known as Elsa but after the war became known as Eileen. I'm not sure why.

Mum went to the same schools as the other children. In secondary school, she was a keen netballer. She also studied shorthand and typing so as to get a job as a secretary. This was a popular choice of career for girls.

The ability to do shorthand was so widespread in the English-speaking world, it seems incredible to us of earlier generations that this skill has disappeared entirely. My mother learned the Pitman's shorthand, although there were other styles. They had in common the idea that words could be recorded phonetically with a single stroke of the pen denoting a consonant-vowels were possible but were normally omitted, so as to be faster. Oddly enough, rather like texting is today. A secretary would be asked to

"take a dictation" and the secretary would record verbatim on a note pad whatever was required. It could then be typed out in full later. (I remember being fascinated by this, and I thought at one stage how great it would be to take lecture notes this way at Varsity, but then I realized it would take a lifetime to translate it all! That's probably why I've never heard of anyone attempting this!). Of course, dictating machines, word processing and voice recognition has made all of this obsolete.

Mum followed Leslie into touring cycling, very popular in the thirties. They would often cycle to the south coast of England. You can tell from the photos that they enjoyed a huge amount of sociable fun.

Cycling Club. Mum on the far right, next to Joyce. The outings must have been distant as the tents are already up.

As I have said before, I think the Smithers' household must have been busy and fun but their world came crashing down on Boxing Day in 1937 when Florence collapsed and died on the footpath whilst out shopping in Dulwich with Dorothy. Dorothy ran to get help for her mother but in the short time she was away, someone stole Florence's handbag- an event described by Dorothy (not unreasonably) as "absolutely disgracefull in the way that only Dorothy could. Florrie did have rheumatic fever as a child and I wonder whether she died of a ruptured heart valve. It's possible.

Worse, however, was to follow and resulted in the breakup of the Smithers' household for good.

Wedding Day. Fred married Minnie, 1938. His mother Mrs Dunn stands by his side. She must have been in her late eighties. She does look redoubtable!

Grandfather Fred must have felt the loss of Florrie keenly but rapidly attached himself to Florrie's sister Minnie. Minnie at that time was a spinster of 54 and very different to the sociable Florrie. All of the children could see disaster, and begged their Dad to reconsider, but such is the way of life that Fred went ahead and married Minnie in August 1938

anyway. Almost immediately, he realized his mistake, but by then it was too late. Misery descended on the house.

Minnie was a keen member of the Salvation Army and did not hold with music and loud noises in the house, and certainly not with alcohol of any kind- so much for the great social occasions of old!

By that time, Leslie had left home and around that time, Cyril joined the R.A.F. Dorothy had just married Bernie and had set up home at Rayners Lane. Joyce and Mum were left at home, but so unhappy were the conditions there that they both set up in a flat elsewhere, leaving Fred to rue his situation.

Joyce and Grandad sitting in a London park around 1940. There is an air of melancholy.

"Marry in haste, repent at leisure" - Dr Samuel Johnson

By 1939, Britain was at war and Mum lost no time in volunteering for the Army. I think she joined the Women's Royal Army Corps in 1940 but I'm not sure about the date. Obviously, there was no place at home for her so that must have seemed the only way forward.

Mum. One of her loveliest pictures; taken around 1939, I think

Britain in the early 1940s was on the brink of disaster. There was a general feeling that Germany, having conquered all of Europe at lightning speed would at any minute be launching an invasion of Britain against which the British could hardly defend itself. Dunkirk itself was seen as a kind of miraculous deliverance when in fact, it was a massive defeat of Britain's under prepared professional army. My parents' generation has always

believed that Hitler could hardly comprehend how easily his military objectives had been achieved. Hitler must have thought that somehow Britain was preparing a trap for him and that all that was necessary was the "softening up" of Britain by bombing from the air and the invasion could begin in September 1940.

Churchill and the British nation realized that they had been given a lifeline in the delay, however inadvertent, and thanks to the successful Battle of Britain in the skies above, the nation below set to, to train the military, produce the arms and beg, borrow or steal any kind of material support from the United States. There were drives to collect all scrap metal, particularly aluminium, to build the weapons of war. Iron railings, tins and pots and pans went into the war effort.

Women went into the factories and in the Forces, learned trades hitherto reserved for men. Mum was taught to drive. First cars, and then heavy trucks. Mum learned every facet of car maintenance and repair.

She told me that, in the days when eggs were in very short supply, on the day of her driving test on a 3-ton truck, the instructor parked the truck on an incline and placed an egg behind the rear wheel. He told her, if you can start this truck up the hill without breaking this egg –it's yours for breakfast. She got it! Mum was attached to the Royal Artillery on the anti-aircraft guns, as a driver, and served throughout the Second World War.

The A.T.S. Mum was a driver in the Anti-Aircraft Batteries as in this article

During the last years of the war, Mum's unit was stationed in Norfolk at Cranwich. Mum was billeted with Mrs. Shipp, my paternal grandmother, at their house in Northwold. Beryl Warren, our distant relation living in Downham Market, remembers Mum coming into the Northwold Post Office to pick up the unit mail, as a "bright and bubbly" personality.

My Mother in the Army as a driver

My father came home on leave from the R.A.F, and that is how my father met my mother, and that's a story we'll come back to, of course.

As for Fred, I think he had a lonely time of it in London although Lordship Lane seems to have passed relatively unscathed from the Blitz.

In the years after the war, Fred found living with Minnie beyond endurance and went to live with his friend in Crowland near Peterborough in Leicestershire. Leaving Minnie in possession of Lordship Lane (how sad!). His state of mind is revealed in a letter he wrote to Joyce.

"--- I am feeling very much better already. I do not get any of those old tummy attacks now. No Worry, No Work, No Minnie, so you see I got rid of the old bat-I knew it was the only way-to pack up."

I don't ever recall seeing my grandfather Fred, but he must have seen me as he refers to me in one of his letters. "----I have 2 nice photos of David. He gets a fine boy. How time flies. He was only a tot when I see (sic) him last at Chesham."

Fred became unwell and unable any longer to stay with his friend, Mr. Avery in Crowland. He went to live with Dorothy in Rayners Lane. I don't know exactly what was wrong with him, but either stomach or pancreatic cancer, I think. His death certificate states cause of death as liver cancer, but that was likely to be secondary to something else. He died in March 1954.

Unfortunately, Fred wrote a will that was technically invalid, with the result, as far as I can make out, that the Smithers children were largely deprived of the estate. I think it must all have passed into Minnie's hands. At some stage, Minnie must have sold Lordship Lane, perhaps even when Fred left home, and settled in a small flat in Sidcup in Kent. There was a large amount of furniture and chattels from Lordship Lane that Minnie obviously didn't need and she apparently gave it all to the Salvation Army. I do remember this caused a great deal of upset to my mother and all the other members of the family.

Minnie wrote occasionally to my mother and I had the impression that despite Minnie giving the lot to the Salvation Army, they neglected her in the last years, complaining of the cold and her inability to get about. That upset Mum all the more.

Minnie died in May 1966 aged 82.

I think this brings the Smithers part of the story to a close. Of course there's much more to say but I'll cover this in later bits.