Obituaries, Eulogies, Memories & Orders of Service: #1 -2020 to 2026

May 5, 2025
25 min read

Updated: 1 day ago

At a meeting of the Thursley History Society early in 2025, it was agreed that the website should include a post for our many beloved villagers who are no longer with us. Our archive contains a lot of information and we shall gradually build up this entry retrospectively. If you would like to contribute any obituaries, eulogies, memories, orders of service or photographs (especially where none exist on the website) please do so via the website: https://www.thursleyhistorysociety.org/contact

Lives celebrated: Nina Allen; Tone Badcock; Hilary Barr; Pat Barr; Richard Bates; Tich Corrigan; Salosh Edwards; Peter Hanaeur; Edmund Haviland; Anthony Langdale; Angela Muir; Jo Scheffers; Philip Traill; Jill Whitwell;

Richard Charles Bates 12th February 1943 - 4th January 2026

This tribute was written by the family and read by the Celebrant, Paul Winder:

Richard Bates - A Life Well Lived

Richard grew up in the World War 2 bombed streets of London’s East End with his Dad, a bus conductor following his service in the War, Mum, a seamstress, and his younger sister Dorothy. One of his academic achievements was to pass the 11+ exam and be accepted into the local Grammar School where he made lifelong friends. His Uncle Albert was an early inspiration. He spoke Arabic, played the piano, painted and knew artists like the writer Laurie Lee.

Richard also took up oil painting and played the clarinet but it was his desire to see beyond the claustrophobic East End that defined him. Early on he loved cycling to Epping Forest where he read The Sunday Times from front to back, a routine he kept his whole life. His social and organisational skills meant he was the one to get his school friends out and about, starting off with youth-hostelling in Britain but he soon had sights on tougher challenges. At 21 he cycled up Norway, in winter, as far as the Arctic Circle with Graham. Word had got round about his trip and at the top he was greeted by a newspaper journalist and a British diplomat. Another trip in his early twenties was with a group of mates driving through Europe, ending up working in a hotel restaurant by Lake Geneva.

While living at home he worked in the City and in the evenings studied for a Drawing Practice & Machine Design Diploma which allowed him to work as a Draughtsman. However he wasn’t going to work in an office in the City for the rest of his life, so at 26 the travelling bug infected him again, this time with the grand idea of an overland trip to Australia. He advertised in the paper and went with two girls and Sean Sinnott, an Irish guitar playing singer, who stayed a lifelong dear friend. Richard did most of the driving in a converted Bedford Dormobile, christened Rosinante (from Don Quixote).

This was the journey of a lifetime, nearly having to give up in the snow in Turkey and getting very ill in India but eventually they made it to Sydney, Australia, the land of opportunity, a world away from Stepney Green. Richard took a job in a drawing office, living over Bondi Beach and made close, life-long friends in John Egger and Richard Debenham. From then on he was known as Dicko! Geoff Prouse, an old school friend asked Richard to help him run a supermarket in Darwin, then a remote town in the outback of Northern Australia. Richard was in his element here as his social skills made him a Pom everyone could like, even if he did have to knock out the occasional Aborigine who’d had too much to drink!

In 1974 Cyclone Tracy flattened Darwin. He was a driving force in helping the Red Cross in the aftermath but eventually he decided to come home.

In the late Seventies, a trip to Egypt provided the setting for Richard to meet Nicki, a nurse and former air hostess. And though they came from different backgrounds, they shared a love of travelling and doing things their way.

After marriage in Farnham they found a run-down cottage in Thursley, backing on to Thursley Common. They thought it would be a great place to raise a family. Richard learnt squash in Australia and his entrepreneurial skills and love of sport meant he wasn’t satisfied working as a draughtsman for a company, so he decided to start up his own Squash & Sports Club. Squash was a sport that hadn’t taken off yet in 1980’s England and he saw the business potential and health benefits for all.

Then his two sons came along, James, then Andrew, and with Dingo the dog he was living a life he could never have imagined growing up in the East End. Richard installed a wood burner that connected to the radiators in the house and he was very proud of his money saving idea. In return for volunteering on Thursley Common, the wardens allowed him to use his prized Land Rover to collect any spare wood available. It became a life-time passion to spend most of his free time collecting, cutting and burning wood! He struck up a close friendship with James Giles, the Natural England Warden. The family enjoyed many cycling holidays throughout Europe, fond memories for all.

When Richard retired a new life opened up for him as he now had the time to get to know the village and villagers. With his East End charm and famous sense of humour he was equally at home with everyone. He soon became the Village Hall Grand Quizmaster and ran a Table Tennis Club for over 10 years. He volunteered to mow the grass in the village for the Parish Council and also enjoyed helping the Churchyard Working Party.

Richard was a self-made man. He grew up in humble surroundings and made the best of his time. He ventured out into the world with a smile for everyone and a bad joke for those who would listen!

His attitude meant he was accepted wherever he went. A life well-lived.

Richard's sons, James and Andrew, also delivered moving eulogies which can be read in the pdf below:

Honor Marion Jill Whitwell, 'Jill' 16th September 1934 - 24th August 2025

This eulogy was delivered by Jill's son, Kevin Osgood:

Thank you all for joining us here today to celebrate the life of Jill Whitwell, my Mum.

Jill was born Honor Marion Jill Temple on 16^th September 1934. She was born at home in an upstairs room of her parents’ guest house, The Temple Lounge, in West Street, Farnham where she grew up alongside her elder brothers, Ranger and Nigel, who were 13 and 8 years her senior respectively.

Her parents were Sydney and Honor Temple and at the age of 16 Sydney had been blinded during a rugby match at Dulwich College and subsequently devoted much of his life to charity work for the Royal National Institute for the Blind. Jill also immersed herself in this, teaching blind people the art of chair caning and making wicker baskets, something she returned to in later life.

Jill was almost five when Britain declared war on Germany and within a year Farnham was suffering from the fallout of bombing missions more likely targeting the surrounding areas of Brooklands, Farnborough, Aldershot, Bordon and Odiham, all having military or air bases.

Her parents’ cellar was converted into an air raid shelter where locals would cram in during nighttime bombing raids.

At 5 years old it was time to start school at St. Andrew’s in Farnham. Jill developed a distaste for school on her first day which set the pattern for the next three years. She could already read and write quite well and on her first day the class had to write their names, addresses and their parents’ names. Jill was sent to see Mrs Burrows, the headmistress, for arguing that she had not misspelt her father’s name (it was Sydney and NOT Sidney). By lucky coincidence Mrs Burrows lived at the Temple Lounge during term time and confirmed that Jill was, in fact, correct but this injustice stuck in her craw for the remaining three years at the school.

By 1942 her parents had decided that the town was too dangerous for a child of that age and they would move her away from the bombings. She was sent to St. Ursula’s, a girls’ boarding school in the local village of Grayshott which was considered outside the bombers’ flight paths.

She immediately took to the head mistress, Mrs Stevenson, who had a little dog, Craddock, who Jill was given almost sole charge of during term time. You can imagine how much she enjoyed that responsibility.

I can find no record of this school so due to her mischievous nature I teased her many times that she must have been mistaken, and the school was really called St Trinian’s. She told me recently that she was amongst several girls who used to escape through the dormitory window to attend the dance at the local village hall before returning to bed as if nothing had happened.

Jill later attended the Guildford Technical College and qualified in Catering in 1952 and Restaurant Management the following year and found employment cooking for the many residents of Farnham’s Moor Park House which had been used as a billet for Canadian troops in the war and was being refurbished by a Canon Parsons whilst being used as a Christian adult education college.

Jill had by this time developed a love of horses and had successfully negotiated the purchase of her own mare, Dawn, from a nearby riding stable in return for stable work. Dawn had previously been owned by the Dutchess of Norfolk and had failed to make the grade as a show jumper so had been put in livery. She was unable to graze Dawn at the stables though so, never afraid of hard work, she rented a field next to Moor Park House through money earned by scrubbing pigs at a local farm in preparation for livestock shows.

Jill once rode Dawn from Farnham to Pitton, near Salisbury for a holiday, a hundred mile round trip which captured the attention of the newspapers.

Jill was always a lover of sport and a member of local teams for hockey and badminton. It was through badminton that she met Reg, an aircraft engineer turned leather goods retailer, who she married in Jan 1959. They built our family home to the rear of the Temple Lounge where she had grown up.

Jill’s love of animals continued and after her two Labradors had both passed away we had Tarquin, an Irish Setter (or Tarky as we preferred to call him in public). Jill (Mum) always laughed when retelling the stories about how Tarky would exasperate my Dad by deciding to walk backwards through the town for no apparent reason, or by randomly sitting down and refusing to move. I witnessed both of these events.

Life ‘happened’ and in 1975 (approx.) Jill met Bob with whom she remained until his passing. Bob brought out her love of travel and together they visited many places in the UK and abroad including Kenya, Montenegro, Majorca, Menorca, Egypt, Croatia and Corsica which was one of their favourite destinations.

It was during this period that Mum also returned to chair caning, something she used to teach the blind but hadn’t done since her youth. So in the 1980s she started giving chair caning classes twice weekly which developed into a late career from 1987 when she started her restoration business, the Chaircraft Studio at Smithbrook Kilns in Cranleigh, where she would perform caning and wicker restoration of a standard highly acclaimed by the antiques trade and which would be the catalyst for her membership to the Guild of Master Craftsmen for Quality and Service.

Mum always had a desire for new skills and knowledge and gained a personal survival award from the Amateur Swimming Association and took herself to adult education lessons which resulted in a City and Guilds certificate in Information Technology, not wanting to be left behind by the computer age. Even recently she was keeping her mind active by doing crosswords, jigsaw puzzles and sudoku, writing lists from memory… including the periodic table, countries, states of America, species of birds etc. She also maintained a strong faith, loved choirs and wrote out biblical verses and hymns from memory.

Mum/Jill also pursued a lifelong ambition to register her own Kennel Club name.

Her love and dedication to the Flatcoated Retriever breed started in 1987 with her first ‘Flattie’, Dixie. Her involvement resulted in her being invited by the Flatcoated Retriever Society to become their representative for Surrey in August 1993. She was over the moon with this invitation and was thrilled to be able to give back to the breed some of the pleasure she had gained from her own dogs and the help she had been given by fellow owners.

The branch area soon expanded to include Surrey, London and Middlesex and over the following decades they were to run puppy training classes, trimming demonstrations, regular social and field events, summer picnics, film shows, annual barbeques at West Wittering beach and stands at the ‘Discover Dogs’ show and many other activities using venues kindly offered and hosted by the members. Each year would end with a well attended Christmas pub lunch.

Jill achieved her dream of becoming a show judge and in registering her own Kennel Name, Tucklewell, which was a combination of family names and in 1990 Tucklewell Tommy Treacle (pet name Jambo) was born. The name Tommy Treacle came from a painting by her brother, Nigel. Jambo was one of 14 puppies and with him Jill achieved much success in the show ring, won many best in breed awards in open shows and was regularly placed at championship levels and at Crufts.

In 2008 Jill was thrilled to receive Honorable Life Membership of the Flatcoated Retriever Society in recognition of all she had done for the society for which she worked tirelessly alongside other members who became great friends, many of whom are with us today.

Despite life-long back and neck problems and reduced mobility in later years Jill remained fiercely independent and retained an amazing sense of humour and love of anything fun. She could find the funny side of almost anything.

I remember back in 2008 Mum called me on her mobile to ask me to guess where she was. I could hear it was somewhere noisy and was shocked to learn she was at Earl Mountbatten’s house, Broadlands, watching American heavy rockster Meatloaf. A bit different from her usual trips to theatre and ballet. But why not? She subsequently came to several rock gigs with us.

Another example of age defiance was during her 80^th Birthday trip. Mum had told me she’d never seen the Crown Jewels, so we took her to London and incorporated a Thames high speed rib tour. The first thing the boat operator asked was “has anyone got any heart or back problems?”. I gave her a sheepish look but she was already answering that she was fine and later encouraged them to go faster into a turn when we were already in a fairly excessive Heel. She loved it.

Mum loved nature, walking the hills, admiring lakes, painting birds and especially her garden and all the wildlife that visits. She would love to sit in her conservatory watching the pond with its lilies, dragonflies, damsel flies and the huge variety of birds that visited for a drink.

Last year we were lucky enough to celebrate her 90^th Birthday which was slightly tamer than her 80^th but a marvellous event which she thoroughly enjoyed.

Jill never lost that sense of humour. Very recently when a medic was told that Mum had risen early to feed the dogs, the nurse asked “yes but have you eaten yourself?”. Mum’s reply was “why on earth would I want to eat myself?”.

That love of twisting the language was used regularly to create misunderstandings to humorous effect. Spoonerisms were a regular occurrence along with Catenation or connected speech where she would say for example “for lunch I had A Napple and A Norange and now I have a Stummer Cake”. She could do this without thinking.

Jill has touched so many lives and has been a true inspiration to myself, family and friends.

Now I’d like to say big thank you to every one of you for coming today and to those who couldn’t make it and for all the kind words of condolence and expressions of love for Jill. All are greatly appreciated.

Jill/Mum, we’ll all miss your positivity, resilience, your can-do attitude, your humour, patience, care, love, advice, your gardening knowledge, your smile, and, of course, your ability see the funny side of almost everything…

Rest Well Mum.

Angela Muir MW 29th September 1948 - 14th July 2025

We were all saddened to hear of the death in Cyprus on July 15^th of Angela Muir, widow of Peter who was for several years Associate Vicar of St Michael and All Angels Thursley. Many of us will remember their legendary hospitality both at Yew Cottage, The Three Horseshoes and at Church, and that Angela was not only a world-renowned Master of Wine, but also a superb cook. They were greatly missed in the village when, in 2019, they decided to emigrate permanently to Cyprus.

Angela showed early talent by winning the Vintners Scholarship in 1977, enabling her to travel around Europe for six months studying wine, finally becoming a Master of Wine in 1980, a considerable achievement, especially for a woman, in those days. She spent eight years in the Wine Merchant Division of John Harvey and Sons in Bristol followed by ten years as overseas buyer for Grants of St James and Victoria Wine. After this, she set up in her own business called Cellarworld with Peter, travelling the world as a wine consultant, helping producers both in Europe and South America to make their wines more saleable in the export market. Few people realised that one of her many intellectual talents was as a linguist, which made travelling easier for her. She has truly left her mark on the wine industry as an educator of future Masters of Wine, many of whom have left glowing tributes to her rigorous and meticulous training, but also mentioning her kindness and the selfless gift of her time in helping them to achieve their goal. There have also been a number of lengthy articles in the Cypriot press written with great fondness by her friends in the wine industry there recalling her immense talent and enormous contribution to their success over the years.

Angela fell in love with Cyprus many years ago when she was employed by the industry to improve the quality of their wine making, so when they moved there, we were delighted that they chose a house in the same village in which we have had a holiday home for over twenty years. We joked that we lived almost exactly the same distance from each other as we did in Thursley. Their house has a magnificent view of a large area of the south coast west of Paphos towards the Akamas peninsula and they loved to sit on their balcony with a glass of something rather good to enjoy the magnificent sunsets for which Cyprus is famous. They soon were absorbed into the large expat community, playing lots of bridge and Angela also joined the ladies gastronomy circle where she soon became a leading light. She also kept up with her contacts with the local wineries, a number of whom she had helped for many years. It was an eye opener to have the privilege of accompanying her to some of these, she was treated like royalty and they hung on her every word. It was also educational, on one occasion, at a rather grand establishment, she tasted a particular supposedly single grape varietal and announced that there was a percentage of another grape in it. An embarrassed owner huffed that he had added 2% to smooth it out, at which Angela looked at him over her glasses, and enquired whether he had forgotten that perhaps it was 5%. An embarrassed vigneron turned bright red in the face and admitted that she was, of course, correct.

Peter’s sudden death on New Year’s Eve 2022 came as a terrible shock and Angela’s health suffered very badly. She became completely incapacitated and spent a considerable period in Hospital. When she came home, she had the help of constant carers to look after her. One particularly wonderful friend took over the organisation of her life and I do not know what would have happened without her devoted attention. Angela gradually and bravely fought her way back to better health and was able to get about to play bridge and see friends, even managing the cruise that they both had looked forward to. Her end seems to have been peaceful, she was found by one of her carers in bed, the inevitable book still in hand. Peter once said to me “There is only one Angela!” and he was right. RIP great lady.

Hilary Joy Denholm Barr, 3rd May 1945 - 12th January 2025

Hilary's obituary in Thursley Parish Magazine, May 2025

Order of Service:

Pete Hanauer 26th September 1946 - 15th December 2024

There were tributes to Pete from family and friends as well as poem. The tribute below from Dick Lowther, a friend and former colleague, is reproduced in full:

Peter

Warm, generous, witty Peter - 47 YEARS MY FRIEND. We took many paths together but then you trod many more.

Memories of you, glued in my souvenirs, coming back as sure as swifts in summer. As surely as the seeds you sowed in your veg plot - from the smooth bean to the wrinkled pea. Some forgotten for a time, but greeted with joy when they pop up again.

I met you in the autumn of 77 in Farnham the same day as Brad, who is also here today. You were a new student, yet already rich with experience. Your second bite of the art school cherry.

With your generosity and effortless way of making friends - witness this turnout - I soon found myself enjoying the delightful company of Pete. And of Sandra, of Rachel, and Sam.

You brought with you a history and an inquisitive mind, tempted by a new path trusting it would lead somewhere - a characteristic of art students, We who took a stroll with out a care, never knowing how we’ll fare. How I wish I had met the much younger you. But the music of Hole Cottage gave me a rewarding glimpse into the lay of your land.

This shared musicality led us to - Springsteen in Paris, Leonard in Lyon, Baez in Portsmouth, Dylan in London

You fared well at Farnham as glassblowing caught your breath. Those fiery workshops set you on another new path, one that would take you to the Royal College of Art. I recognized early on that you were someone respectful of tradition, yet always open to the modern. Even those paintings you worked on for Bridgit Riley where beautifully hand crafted.

Two years later, our paths crossed again — this time with greater consequence. I was scouting for talent for Epsom when we met at your Royal College show. I proposed part-time teaching , wanting you to have days to continue creating your beautiful glasswork. But you wanted a full-time job. The principal, on looking into your box of glasswork, pounced on you.

And so we worked together again. I confess I bear the responsibility for England losing a talented glassblower — but there are many many students, some here today I believe, who would thank me for that. You anchored yourself at Epsom, devoting your days to teaching, guiding, listening to and inspiring others.

You became a weekly presence in my life once more: the kind, charming committed colleague, a steadfast friend.

But my most treasured memories are of Hole Cottage. Descending the track from the A3 always brought the anticipation of the warmest of welcomes, your hand held high and the ever-open back door. The country kitchen, where much was talked of and chuckled at. A small corner of England you and Sandra have long been caring for - a place for people, animals, and birds and celebration. At one point a homestead of black sheep, black chickens, black pigs, black cat, and Blackberry the cow. The crows and blackbirds were well impressed. Green finches and blue tits not so much.

Warm welcome and warm nights nights too, often a new year’s eve, much enlivened by the grape. Once you put me to bed in front of the open fire and closed all the doors. I woke up smelling like an Arbroath Smokie for a day. Another example of your commitment to a country craft and love of food the cottage always brings to mind. But whilst Spotted Dick is is a famous english pudding, Kippered Dick has yet to make it to a menu.

And the barn - multifunctional, ever-evolving. At times it housed vintage vehicles, a cinema, a dance floor, an illicit still, and Sandra’s six-star restaurant. Above it all, your little studio - the elevated man cave filled with books, art, and bits of this and mementos of that, gathered with care. Surrounding it all the the perfect summer-party garden.

Not too far away were the cricket grounds, grand at Lord’s or modest in Thursley, where we could slow our life down for an hour or a day. Along with morning dog walks and pub lunches.

You identified with, and reintroduced me to, the culture of rural England. You would probably have been wassailing this month where it not for why we are here.

Your talent you wore lightly. but there was always a reminder of it - in your delightfully drawn birthday and Christmas cards, your graceful handwriting instantly recognizable on the envelope.

These are not just nostalgic memories - they are an appreciation of a life well-lived, rooted in craft yet open to innovation. Life is a collection of meandering paths, with missteps along the way. Yet we leave footprints in the sands of time. You, of course, would modestly deny this. But Peter, you and Sandra have made your small corner of England a better place, filled with goodness.

For Sandy and Rachel and Sam there will now be the undone years as Wilfred Owen called them - not just the years that Pete will not now do, but those which you will not now experience. But they will be enriched because you new and loved him and he was there. He will be still be there - invisible but you will be able to call on memories and be guided by his humanity, his generosity, his humour, his ease with people, young and old, whatever path they found themselves on.

So lets not whine at death but withstand it ( so wrote that gloomy poet of my home town Philip Larkin) and celebrate Pete’s life and be thankfully happy that his paths crossed ours.

So I say Fare thee well, Pete. I will miss you terribly.

Two examples of Pete's

glass-blowing in the V&A

This eulogy was from a close neighbour, Jo Kelly:

For me Pete was a friend and neighbour, a fellow valley dweller and wassailer, a muddy biking buddy and member of the Help in Thursley team, a litter picking organiser and ever friendly greeter of my horses and dogs.

Pete was our runner bean supplier and bringer of mice for our barn owl - (although I am not sure that the Amazon drivers ever got used to the surprise of dead mice looking up at them from a flowerpot in our parcel bin!). A long-standing dog grooming client (he and Stanley were the only two who thought that my haircuts with horse clippers were acceptable, albeit after a couple of weeks regrowth!).

He had been the previous keeper of our Land Rover, and a few years later with Sandy, crept in at the crack of dawn in a snow blizzard to decorate it for our wedding. He was also the village illustrator and creator of the most beautiful and memorable Christmas Cards.

As you all know Pete wore many hats!

Anyone who witnessed Pete and my relationship will know it consisted of a lot of banter and a very dubious sense of humour. I fear he has gained the last laugh looking down on me here today trying to hold it all together.

I was deeply touched, honoured and daunted when Sandy asked me to say a few words. How on earth do you do justice to Pete and his life? So I googled the definition of “a life well lived”. One version was, “more people have benefitted from your presence than not”. And BLIMEY! - didn’t we all benefit?!

I’m sure that every one of you here can’t reflect on Pete’s time in your life, however long or short, even those fleeting interactions, without smiling and recalling his ever cheery chat and endless positivity.

That is a life well lived.

If we all tried to live our lives a bit more like Pete ….. that would be a truly great legacy.

Philip George Traill: 8th November 1965 - 8th September 2024

Basil Hamilton Barr 'Pat' 7th April 1935 - 7th February 2024

Andrew:

Dad was born 7th April, 1935 in Aldershot to an Irish father and English mother who came from Churt and Dad never really left this area. His father, Walter who was known as Stan, was born in Derry City at the turn of the last century in what is now Northern Ireland. Like many of his generation there was little for him in Ireland and following the partition Stan joined the British Army as part of the Royal Army Medical Corps. Consequently Dad’s early family life was spent at the Aldershot and then Hong Kong Garrisons before Stan returned to England at the start of the war.

Dad was always extremely proud of his Irish heritage and was in contact with his cousins throughout his life, including some memorable family visits to Donegal where it was clear where he got his sense of humour from. His given name was actually Basil - but he was universally known as Pat or Paddy . This fascinated us as children, and we would interrogate him, and he would say we could only call him Basil when he became Sir Basil. Dad was the second of three children. The eldest Derek sadly died in the 1990’s but his younger sister Dorothy aka Dilys, survives him and is here with us today.

At the start of the war Stan was on active service and in 1940, following the evacuation of Dunkirk was captured and remained a prisoner until close to the end of the war when he returned unexpectedly on a prisoner exchange, only to be sent straight back after D-Day. So Dad’s early life was spent without a father and he grew up in service quarters with few comforts and probably not a lot of money. It was a tough start and I believed it explains a lot about his drive and determination to get a good education in order to provide a good life for himself and his family. Dad never took anything for granted and was always extremely hard working, successful and careful with money. But he was also very generous and often funny. I remember his typical wit when asked if he had waited long for his much anticipated new convertible he responded – oh about 50 years!

In 1952, Dad was called up for national service and joined the Royal Marines. After completing the Commando course and earning his green beret, he followed Derek into 42 Commando and together they were on active service in the Suez crisis. I think it is fair to say that Dad was more bon vivant than commando, a polar opposite to his elder brother, and we don’t think he much enjoyed the experience – but it resonated strongly with him for the rest of his life, and he was very proud of having been a Royal Marine.

Following National Service Dad got a job with the Lloyd’s Policy Signing office in Chatham. From there he worked as a junior cargo broker at Maurice Tozer and Beck before moving to John Holman & Sons - a family business that historically included shipowning and insurance businesses. During his holiday’s Dad was involved with the Royal Show working in the accounts department. No doubt this was to earn extra money, but we think it was where and certainly around the time he met Jean Huxley, our mother. Pat and Jean got married, in 1960. They settled in Godalming and had three children in fairly short order me (Andrew), Julia and Stephen.

Stephen:

The City was a big part of Dad’s life and I look back with affection on the few years that Dad and I worked together in Lloyd’s. I saw a lot of him and got to know another side to his character, the business side. He was well respected, always immaculately dressed and set a great example to those around him. We would meet regularly in Lloyd’s or over breakfast at 8am or for lunch, usually a salad. Occasionally I would persuade him to come out for a curry or we would meet up with colleagues in a wine bar, but he was always busy and had somewhere to be!

It hadn’t always been like that apparently. He told me that in his early days in the city junior brokers didn’t get a desk or telephone. They merely acted as runners, carrying instructions from the Senior broker, which in turn were received by telex from clients. During quiet they were advised to stay well clear of the office returning at 4pm for the day’s final instructions. This gave the young Pat enormous latitude to go missing in action. He and his friends would embark on adventures including in the East End, exploring bombsites from the war and drinking at pubs along the way such as the Capt Kidd, City of Ramsgate and Propect of Whitby generally returning at 4pm dirty and a few pints the worse of wear!

Pat and Jean built a provincial insurance business alongside his city career calling it Hamilton Barr. It was successful and in time John Denner, an old friend of Dad’s, was hired as Managing Director to run it so that Dad could focus on his day job. The business was a great success and some years later Dad met Michael Wade and they eventually sold Holmans and Hamilton Barr to Clarkson’s shipping. The rest is just history, but it would be remiss not to mention Voyager which Dad and a number of his colleagues (Aubrey Abbott, John Peters and others) started in the1990’s and which continues to thrive today.

Dad made many friends in his business life and travelled frequently, particularly to Canada and the USA. Some of those people became our friends too and I still have a number of city acquaintances whose first job was with Dad in Marine insurance. As children we had a very happy existence and I particularly remember the wonderful holidays we had together in Cornwall and France. Dad was completely different on holiday, and seemed to be able to completely relax.

Sadly his first marriage to our mother Jean, was not to last. Dad moved to London and we remained at the family home. As we entered our teenage years he still kept a close eye on us and was never too far away, particularly it seemed, if we were doing something wrong. In about 1979, Hilary Dalby (Hilly, Mook, or just Bill to us) came into our lives. Her ability to keep Dad on the straight and narrow earned her his nick name “The Old Bill” and so it was that she became known to us as just Bill. Easy to explain in this day and age that your father’s married to someone called Bill, maybe not so back then! With Bill came Piers, Heather, Sonya and Ray and their families. I know that Dad was thankful to have met Hilary’s parents and for the relationships they both enjoyed with her family over many years. Pat and Hilary built a wonderful life together over 43 years of marriage, establishing their homes at Vean Cottage in Thursley and in Pimlico, before moving to The Old Vicarage and finally to Wild Goose Cottage.

In Surrey they built a wide network of friends. Dad loved fine wine and as an aside, his former colleague Aubrey reminded Hilary how on one occasion he requisitioned the air conditioning unit in Aubrey’s office for use in his new wine cellar to avert what I think you might call a temperature violation! Over many years together they earned a reputation for hosting fabulous dinner parties marking every milestone with an amazing celebration. Dad and Hilary became accomplished golfers (Hilary arguably better than Dad – I can say that now!) spending a lot of time at West Surrey where they were both Captains. I used to play golf with them both from time to time and I remember Dad, a stickler for etiquette, becoming truly exasperated by the number of practice swings I took at the hallowed tees of West Surrey Golf Club when we entertained some city colleagues!

Andrew

Lastly we want to reflect on how happy Dad and Hilary were together over such a long period time, how common endeavours like owning a share in the pub, being part of this village, golf, entertaining and travel were the bedrock of a very successful marriage and we know that Hilary has been touched to receive so many lovely letters of condolence and reminiscence. Many talk about Dad’s wit, dry / waspish sense of humour and his quick-witted bonhomie while celebrating what a brilliant team they were at the very heart of the village social circle.

Stephen

Dad was well read and well versed in current affairs and had a sharp wit. He loved telling jokes, particularly those entailing an accent of some description! He was thoughtful and generous, wanting no fanfare for people he helped over the years, such as my maternal grandmother. We all knew that in a crisis (generally a financial one) you could always talk to him and he would help. But he wasn’t one to shy away from pointing out the error of your ways, which was the price you paid but it was generally well intentioned and just our Dad.