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; John Baker; Hilary Barr; Pat Barr; Richard Bates; Tich Corrigan; Salosh Edwards; Joyce Hall; Peter Hanaeur; Edmund Haviland; Elizabeth Jones; Anthony Langdale; Angela Muir; Ruth Nightingale; Herbert Perrier; John 'Tony' Scales; Jo Scheffers; Traudi Shah; Alan Sharland; Alan Traill; Philip Traill; Pia Wansborough; Jill Whitwell; Neil Woods Herbert Percy Perrier: 22nd September 2026 This beautifully designed Order of Service was for a very special baby and can be downloaded from the pdf below. Alan Sharland: 28th October 1962 - 26th August 2026 This brief summary of Alan's life is by his cousin, Miriam Sharland: Alan Peter Sharland was born on 28 October 1962, the youngest child of Derek and Marjorie Sharland, and younger brother of Andrew and Paul. Alan’s father Derek was born in what is now The Olde Hall on The Lane before his family moved to the newly built Homefields in 1937. Marjorie grew up at Wheeler’s Farm. When Derek and Marjorie were first married they lived in a caravan on the corner next to Hook Cottage, before moving into the home they shared for the rest of their lives, Chez Nous on Milford Road in Elstead. This was where Alan grew up, and it was this family home that provided the bedrock of his life. The family were frequent visitors to Homefields where Alan’s grandmother and uncle continued to live. Alan attended St James Primary School, Elstead, Rodborough School and Godalming College, excelling both academically and at sport. He then took a BSc in physics at University College Cardiff followed by a PGCE in maths and science. This was followed by a Master’s in Values in Education at UCL Institute of Education. Alan worked as a secondary school teacher but it was when he began volunteering as a mediator that he really found his niche. He went on to work as a mediator in various organisations in London, eventually becoming Director of Hillingdon Community Mediation, a role he held for 10 years. Alan then set up his own conflict management consultancy, CAOS. He ran a Youtube channel and podcast, and published two books. Throughout his career, Alan helped numerous people resolve conflict in their lives, while passing on his skills by training others. His influence spread far and wide, and lives on. Alan’s star quality was demonstrated when he featured in a music video shot by a schoolfriend for a little-known band called Blue Boy – the song Remember Me went on to become a monster hit and is still being used in adverts today. He also had a winning run on TV quiz shows Countdown and Brainteaser. While London was Alan’s home for most of his life, he was often returned home to Elstead, which offered a calming, rural contrast to his busy city life. When he was back in Surrey he loved nothing more than walking the family dog Simba across the common, or evening walks to the carpark at Hankley to listen out for nightjars, before returning for a warming cup of tea at Chez Nous. Alan would sometimes walk all the way to Thursley, and after his parents died, he often visited Thursley churchyard, where he now joins them. This eulogy is by his cousin, Joyce Sharland: Alan Peter Sharland came into the world at 4.05am on Sunday, October 28th 1962, the youngest child of Derek and Marjorie Sharland and little brother to Andrew and Paul. He was a bonny baby, weighing in at 8lbs 11ozs. A friend wrote to his mum that she was sure she was ‘very proud of yourself for producing such a beautiful big boy’, adding that he ‘certainly has got a good start in life, thanks to his clever mum’. And Alan certainly did have a good start in life. At the family home, Chez Nous, in Elstead, he grew up alongside his brothers, part of a loved and loving family as he navigated the scrapes and scraps, highs and lows of school and friendships as a child of the sixties and seventies. His family extended further too, with a raft of aunts and uncles and cousins, most of whom lived locally, and with whom his family had frequent contact. As one of those cousins I remember with great fondness visiting Chez Nous, revelling in the warm yet always slightly chaotic welcome we always received. I have memories of Christmases spent playing cards with the grownups for pennies, in games that often went on until late into the night. Alan loved those games, the competitive edge, the triumph of clearing the table and sweeping up all those coins into a great big pile, the scheming, the runs of luck, the laughter that eddied round us as we searched for that elusive Black Jack or third Queen to make up a winning hand. In his later life Alan often harked back to those Christmases, recalling those evenings with great fondness. Alan excelled at school, his quick wit and intelligence earning him good grades and many friends. A keen sportsman and athlete, he broke running records and charmed his opponents on the field. I remember him at one Rodborough School sports day, winning races with ease, chatting and laughing with his mates, and always – ALWAYS – surrounded by a gaggle of adoring girls. As a cousin, I spent a fair amount of time with Alan as a child, but my favourite memories come from a time when we were slightly older, and studying at Godalming College. Alan was working on the A-Levels that would eventually take him onto Cardiff University, and his friendship group and mine encountered each other frequently at The Star in Godalming, our pub of choice. We would take over large tables, drinking, talking, laughing and putting the world to rights as young know-it-all students tend to do, and probably royally hacking off the real grownups on neighbouring tables. We joined the party circuit in the area, and often decamped en masse to discoes held at village halls in Elstead, Witley, Farncombe, Milford and Brook. I still carry to this day a sense of guilt about one of those events. As the group know-it-all I always got wind of these events and somehow it became my job to let everybody else know what was going on, and where. We’d have a big ring-round the night before so everybody knew what was happening. The flurry of phone calls saw me telling everyone to meet at Brook Village Hall for a Seventies fancy dress disco one Saturday night. As my dad pulled up outside the hall to drop me off I saw a group of agitated hippies marching across the car park towards us, Alan resplendent in the most outlandish Afghan coat and feather garland you’ve ever seen. They’d inadvertently gatecrashed a very sedate Bridge competition. The disco was the following week. Although some of the crowd were understandably narked at my error, Alan took the incident in his customary easy-going way, remarking that the Star was about to be invaded by hippies instead. Sorry Alan! That was his way of dealing with setbacks. He was a very clever, inquisitive and thoughtful man but had about him a self-deprecating way that charmed all those who met him – and he always saw the humour in any given situation. Around that time Alan and a group of his mates formed a band – Alan taking up sticks and becoming the drummer. I remember his dad making space for his drumkit in the garage at Chez Nous, where Alan could crash and bash away to his heart’s content. They called themselves Prophet, and I recall sitting in on rehearsals as they strutted their stuff with an eye on making it big. Life took them all in different directions and the big break never happened, but they had a lot of fun pretending it would. Our paths diverged for some time in later life but we reconnected fairly recently while clearing out Chez Nous, and enjoyed deep and wide-ranging conversations about life, the universe and everything. He had his own opinions and wasn’t afraid to voice them to those willing to listen. He was a man of conviction with an open mind and a big heart. Family meant a great deal to Alan, and it’s fitting that we have brought him here today to be laid to rest near his mum and dad, aunts and uncles and his grandparents. Despite the paths along which his life’s journey took him and his decision to make London his home for most of his adult life he always referred back to his family roots, to his deep-seated sense of belonging in this area and of feeling grounded every time he visited Chez Nous. He loved and valued his family, and they loved and treasured him in return. As I opened my laptop last week to write this piece the randomly-generated picture that showed up was of a boat at sunset heading across the calm waters of the sea towards a range of misty hills. As an analogy it was fitting: I like to think of Alan now, having run his race on this earth, heading off elsewhere, taking his curiosity, intelligence, compassion and joy with him. We’ll miss you Alan – all of us here today – but we are undoubtedly all the better for having known you. This eulogy is by Alan's best friend, Nick Wilton: Alan Sharland in 5 minutes As human beings, are very complex, idiosyncratic, nuanced creatures, each with our own curious habits, contradictions and anomalies. Alan particularly so. How then to summarise a man as exquisitely and intricately formed and multifaceted as Alan in 300 seconds? How do I distil a relationship spanning 50 years into 5 minutes? Its like trying to eat an elephant with a teaspoon! Of course, it’s Mission Impossible, and I am no Tom Cruise! All I can do, in these brief moments, is offer my own, subjective and personal impressions of my dearest friend: a man I’ve known and loved for half a century and who enriched my life. What follows are just a few snapshots: a few frames from an epic film! That said, I hope you’ll recognise aspects of his character, and smile, as we commune together to remember our fallen Prince. So who was Alan Sharland? 1 - Alan the Explorer Alan had a sharp intellect and an inquisitive mind. He had an unquenchable thirst for knowledge and a life-long curiosity about the world, and especially the world of ideas. Whether it was Zen / Reiki / Homeopathic Medicine / Keto & Intermittent Fasting / the Bates Method / Tai Chi / mediation or meditation, Alan was passionate about his interests and pursued them with relish and gusto. He would expound the merits of turmeric / garlic / cloves / Hibiscus, Hawthorne or of water fasting with enthusiasm and animation. He never stopped exploring and delighted in discovering new ideas. Nor were his interests restricted to the intellectual. He could also wax lyrical about the size, texture, succulence and taste of his courgettes or what natural composts and fertilizers or irrigation regime he’d used to best effect. Whatever he was into he pursued with passion, energy and enthusiasm. He loved life. Even during the dark days of his illness, Alan discovered a treatment involving tuning forks on the temples so had to try it! 2 - Alan : Champion of Truth & Justice Alan was not a religious man, in the conventional sense, but he had a very finely tuned moral compass. His sense of justice was not legalistic or codified, indeed Alan loathed bureaucratic authority badly applied, but rather that innate sense of fair play and fairness. When Alan encountered an injustice particularly, where there was an imbalance of power, he would lock on, like a Jack Russell terrier. That fearlessness, that tenacity, that dogged determination and moral courage was something I always admired about him when he fought for what he believed to right, whether for himself or for those who needed his help. Yet it was always about principle and he was always respectful even when handling difficult issues and difficult people he maintained that basic respect for his fellow human beings. 3 - Alan the Joker Alan was passionate and principled it is true, but to characterise him as a dour stoic : earnest and pure but boring, would be to diminish his lightness and levity. On the contrary, Alan was always up for a laugh, and how we laughed! His sense of fun and his willingness to engage with the ludicrous, lunacy of living was infectious and invigorating. I have many stories, but they won’t fit in 5 minutes, and some are rude! Whether we were dancing in sweaty village halls not far from here, or ruminating on life’s inner meaning on Godalming train platform, after 3 pints of best bitter in the Star, in our late teens; or interrailing across Europe, enjoying wine, women and song whilst at university, or exploring the wilds of Devon and Exmoor, or the castles of Northumbria, or the mountains, churches and bars of Zermatt as young men, we had so much of fun…. He was always the best company and never took himself too seriously. 4 - Alan: the Carer and the Shepherd For all his other virtues though, perhaps his finest quality was his love and kindness, his empathy and compassion and here I want to borrow from the bible (Corinthians 13:4-5). “Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, is not self seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs”. Alan embodied these words. I saw the way he cared for his father, Derek, when he was dying, for his mother and brothers, and I was myself a beneficiary of his patient love and care, when negotiating periods of darkness in my own life. Alan was always there for me, offering support, but never judgement, empathy but never prescriptive or critical, and for that I shall always be grateful. He was the best friend anyone could wish for and, like all of us in this room, I miss him enormously, but as Alfred Lord Tennyson said, “better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.” To love is to expose ourselves to the grief and loss of parting, but I’d not have had it any other way. Alan said he wanted to be remembered, I know I shall never forget him and I dare say you all feel the same. He was a unique and very special human being and he lives in my mind. I feel his presence, not in a paranormal way, but because I know what he’d has said in any given situation. We that survive him will never forget him, but our lives were the richer for his presence. Goodbye my dear, dear brother. I shall miss you greatly. Order of Service: Gertraud "Traudi" Luise Shah, 15th September 1942 - 17th June 2026 John Anthony Scales, 'Tony', 3rd January 1941-12th February 2026 Tony Scales's sons, Ben & Tim, gave this eulogy, part of which is below: the complete eulogy is in the pdf: Growing up in Yorkshire John Anthony Scales was born on 3rd January 1941 in the village of Knaresborough in Yorkshire, the son of Cameron and Nellie and the 2nd of 3 boys. He grew up with his brothers Bob and Peter in an atmosphere of healthy, fraternal competition which spilt over into lively confrontation on a regular basis. The Scales brothers would earn themselves something of a reputation in and around Harrogate in later years (although he might claim that this was more by association than by personal merit). School His formative years were spent in Yorkshire and he remained a proud Yorkshireman throughout his life. Boarding school first at Terrington Hall and then at Sedburgh (then still part of West Yorkshire), where the beauty of the natural surroundings was offset by a Spartan regime which involved being fully submerged in a cold bath each morning, punishing cross-country runs up hill and down dale (the famous “10”), and rugby in all weathers, including deep snow. He told us that he was ready for pretty much anything after that and Anne recalls that he subsequently particularly enjoyed running downhill recreating the thrill (and relief no doubt) of careering down hillsides at school. Robin Gourlay remembers him at Sedburgh as quiet, musical, popular and responsible, someone who never seemed to get into trouble and who came into his own as a mediator, settling arguments between warring factions (notably Hunt House versus School House). Perhaps a precursor for his career in law. Oxford He left Yorkshire after winning a place to read law at University College, Oxford, an achievement of which his parents were immensely proud, and intrepidly made the long trip down on a scooter which became his preferred means of transport. At Oxford, he continued to play rugby, and also rowed for the college eight under the watchful eye of the cox, Stephen Hawking. My godfather David Pullen remembers him as a very fast and elusive winger (although not very good at tackling) as well as a very light (11 and a half stone – “almost unheard of”) bow in the college eight. Thank you, David, and thank you also for introducing Dad to Mum (without which we wouldn’t be standing here). And actually, we also wanted to acknowledge how happy we are that Mum and Dad were eventually able to rekindle their friendship and thank Anne and Gervase for encouraging this – it has meant a huge amount to the three of us, just as we know it has to Mum. Sutter Creek In 1963, Dad pushed back his start date in London by a year and travelled to California to work as a Maths and English teacher in the old Gold Rush town of Sutter Creek. He supplemented his teaching wages by working at weekends as a cashier in the casinos of Taho, and in forestry, where he worked felling and stripping logs. He recounted that on one occasion, he was following the tractor up hill, when a chain supporting its load of logs snapped, releasing its cargo to roll down the hill. Were it not for Dad’s natural prowess as a high hurdler, we might also not be standing here today! Edward John Baker, "John", 21st July 1934 - 13th March 2026 Pia Wansborough, 7th November 1938 - 10th February 2026 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: Ruth Irwin Nightingale, 9th July 1931 - 27th October 2025 Honor Marion Jill Whitwell, 'Jill' 16th September 1934 - 24th August 2025 The eulogy was delivered by Jill's son, Kevin Osgood, part of which is below: the complete eulogy is in the pdf: 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 16th 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. Angela Muir MW 29th September 1948 - 14th July 2025 Order of Service, see PDF below We were all saddened to hear of the death in Cyprus on July 15th 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 Joyce Dulcie Hall: 12 July 1931 - 21st February 2024 This eulogy was delivered by her son, Simon: After 63 wonderful years of life at South house Mum at the young age of 92 left the building for the last time and amazingly, she did it without the use of her wheelchair! Joyce was known to many of us as Joy and it’s because she brought so much Joy and laughter to all of us. 11 years ago, we converted South house so mum could stay at the family home, it also meant that there would be now 3 generations living under one roof, plus one cat called Harry who she didn’t like very much. Harry however was very fond of mum and he showed it by bringing in the odd, mouse, bird and frog. This was not appreciated at all! Mum loved people and after living on her own for several years, South house was again a busy household. Both Amanda, my wife, and mum had a passion for gardening, and this was a strong bond right to the end. In the last few years childhood Polio came back, which meant mum could not get about like she used to. But seeing her plants and garden every day meant as much to her as also been able to do the Times sudoku most of the day and every day. We have had some wonderful times together and some great parties that many of you here will have attended. Mum loved a party; she also loved her music particularly the Austrian conductor and violinist Andre Rieu. She watched his concerts on television religiously every Sunday and Monday evening without her hearing aids on very, very loudly! Often my daughter Hannah or son Nathanial would have to come down at midnight and say “Please Granny turn the volume down! I have school in the morning”. Oddly very late in life. in fact, this year Mum suddenly went with a conversion from classical Strauss music to the Rolling Stones. This time it was my turn to be woken up at one o’clock in the morning as BBC4 were running a tribute back-to-back of all the band’s songs to the early hours of the morning. Though her hearing was not very good she always denied this, it was more the case people just mumble these days. As Mike Jaggar shouted out “I can’t get no satisfaction” pumped out at full volume. It was my turn to plead for her to turn it down as had an early start for work the next day. Whereas she replied, “Aren't they good very, very good. Such nice young men and so well dressed!”. I could not spoil that image, that rock stars very rarely wear suits anymore and as for Mick Jaggar well, he is only a few years younger than mum!! As mum’s world became smaller the number of visitors became bigger and bigger. My sister Ardiana would visit from Australia every year for 4 – 6 weeks also staying at South House and brother Chris would come down from London every second weekend taking her on magical tours around the local countryside. Most Sundays it was either a roast lunch with us or with her sister Ardri in Farnham. One of mum’s oldest friends Jennifer now lives in Australia but used to live in Bramley and share early school days at St. Catherines school. Jen gave a wonderful rose that was planted outside her bedroom window. Mum often used to remark how amazing that the petals managed to hang on for so long like her friendship too Jen and all the wonderful friends she has had. I feel very privileged to have had joy for all my life and proud to be called my mum. The last years of life the carers at Right at Home became also a very much part of our family and I would like to read out to you a poem written by one of them: This second eulogy was delivered by Joyce's elder son, Christopher, and can be downloaded from the pdf below: Basil Hamilton Barr 'Pat': 7th April 1935 - 7th February 2024 Andrew and Stephen Barr's eulogy for their father: 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. Neil Geoffrey Lankester Woods: 7th September 1959 - 26th October 2023 From Thursley Parish Magazine, January 2024 Anthony Julian Langdale 22nd March 1945 - 20th June 2023 Anthony Langdale on his beloved Fordson Model N, with his grandsons. Salosh Edwards 12th July 1947 - 16th April 2023 Sean Edwards's eulogy for Salosh: My eulogy should talk about what a wonderful person Salosh was, and the wonderful life we had. And how desperately I miss her. But everybody here knows that. So what follows here is a background to the small ‘Picture Tribute’ slide-show that follows, and that has no commentary. With a lot of imagination you will see glimpses of our life together. Each of the 25 slides, in chronological order, has a year and a location on it. So for much of the 56 years that we were together, there are no pictures. It all started in 1967, on the King’s Road, Chelsea. Well, not exactly on it, but just a metre away, at a ‘Do’ at Chelsea College when I first saw Salosh, in a Mary Quant dress, across the proverbial crowded room. Salosh was 20 and I was 24. We chatted, and at the end of the evening we agreed to meet again. And we never separated after that. It was four years after that first meeting, when we were both living together in Bangor, that we realised we hadn’t got married – well, this was the ‘sixties, remember. So we did, in Anglesea. Salosh was studying at Keele, and I at Bangor, but an old banger (at Bangor) served to keep us sufficiently together. My parents farmed from 1947 in Thursley, where we regularly stayed, and so Salosh was a ‘Thursley girl’ from 1967. I include two Thursley pictures from 1974, from Gibbet Hill (bilberry picking), and from the Three Horse Shoes where we will shortly hold the wake. And pictures from around Manchester where we both worked for 31 years. And then from Vine Cottage in Thursley where we lived for the last 19 years. And photos from Harpenden where our daughter Kitty, her husband Mic and their daughters Maia and Elena (all here today) live. And from Germany and Austria where her three sisters (all here today) live. Salosh’s career was hard, as a Local Authority Mental Health Social Worker, doing the Sections under the Mental Health Act. She was both tough and compassionate, always putting her clients first even if it meant fighting the Authority. Which it often did. Socially she mixed easily, but was never really part of any group. She was absolutely her own person. Her relaxations included walking and oil painting. And happy happy meandering holidays, mostly in the south of France, staying in somewhat dilapidated rural cottages, eating in small family-run restaurants, and picnics in sunny orchid-filled fields. At home, she loved her gardening, especially her roses – every one was scented. Salosh was my muse, but so much more than that. On our rambles it would be she who would spot a new plant or animal, or see a magical view that I had missed. She would sit and sketch or wander off to find more, whilst I photographed her finds. I am lost without her. My illustrations were technical and accurate, but Salosh’s paintings were the opposite. I would say “That tree’s not like that”, but Salosh would reply that to her it felt like that. They had a soul that I could never convey, and that soul was Salosh’s. In the following Tribute, I include two of her paintings that she did from Thursley Common and from France. The final slide of the Tribute is of Salosh on the Common this year, at sunset, just two months before going to the Phyllis Tuckwell Hospice. This image symbolises to me the utter anguish of her going away, for ever. Josephine Jean Scheffers, "Jo": 21st December 1929 - 3rd April 2023 Reverend Peter Muir: 21st April 1949 - 30th December 2022 Tone Badcock: 27th June - 29th December 2022 MUM'S STORY Tone Iris Berner Badcock Née Bond Mum was born in Falmouth, Cornwall in 1925, her mother Tula was Norwegian and her father, Douglas, was English. Mum’s Norwegian heritage meant a lot to her and as a young child she lived in Norway for a few years where she learned the language and to ski and skate. Mum also recalled enjoying some birthday parties at the royal palace. Her Grandfather had been a Norwegian politician and Uncle Jacob was a double International at football and ice hockey. The family finally settled in the UK at Parkstone where her brother Erik and sister Eva were born. Mum had an idyllic childhood saying she spent most of her time upside down walking on her hands - a free spirit. In the latter years she told me of a story of when she worked at a riding stable. One day the owner said Tone, I want you to ride this horse to the blacksmith's to be shoed. Mum rode bare back across the Dorset downs on a beautiful day, never seeing a soul and described it as one of the most memorable days of her life. The family were keen sportsmen something Mum inherited. Her cousin David Bond became the first GB Yachtsman to win an Olympic gold medal. Mum’s father Dougie was the secretary at Parkstone Golf Club for 25 years. Her parents were county golfers with single handicaps and all three children, went on to have a love of golf. Overlooking the clubhouse is a picturesque lake and it was here Mum and her siblings learnt to swim. Her mother tied a rope around their waists before telling them to get in the lake and swim. Many years later, on trip to Norway we drove past a lake. Mum shouted, “STOP the car, Rodney”, she got out, stripped off and jumped in the lake. I followed but on finding the water freezing cold and with none of the buoyancy salt water provides ,I quickly got out. Mum left school in 1943 volunteering to join the Wrens, saying she fancied the uniform! She was sent up to HMS Cabbala a signal school near Warrington and qualified as a coder in cypher. One night in June 1944 she decoded a message which said, “Our small boats have sailed”. It signalled D Day. She took the message to the duty officer feeling very proud. Before being posted overseas she spent some time in London. She stayed at Crosby Hall sleeping in the corridor with tin hat and gas mask at the ready with the doodlebugs being dropped every night. She then boarded a troop ship for a six-week voyage to Ceylon and describes feeling much safer. The journey to the Far East turned out to be the first troop ship to go through the Suez Canal since the allies retook control. The convey split, Mum continued safely but sadly the other half of the convey went under heavy torpedo attack. In Ceylon there was a Mess social, worthy of mention where she drank too much resulting in her dancing on the table and being unfit for duty the next day. This is probably the reason why she drank very little alcohol ever again. Mum worked on Lord Mountbatten’s staff, and this was where she met Rodney our father. He proposed in Raffles Hotel and in August 1947 they married. Having accrued leave they had a six month honeymoon staying in Oak Cottage in Thursley, returning to Rodney’s childhood village Children duly arrived, first Wendy then Jill with me arriving last. Our formative years were spent in Southampton. Wendy married Jim. Jill on passing her O levels travelled the globe before meeting and marrying Brian and I was sent away to public school giving mum time to pursue her own interests. She spent 20 years volunteering in the league of friends at Southampton hospital. She played tennis at the local GPs home enjoying silver service tea parties afterwards. Mum was also a lifelong member of the Conservative party and one evening took Wendy to Southampton docks for a husting meeting where Harold Wilson was speaking. With Mr. Wilson in full flow a voice from the back shouted, “Rubbish!”. Our mother was duly ejected. She was delighted when Rishi Sunak was made Chancellor of the Exchequer and relates seeing him as a small boy sitting behind the counter at the local pharmacy counting the cash. She also told the Moorlands staff that she had met Jeremy Hunt at his mother’s home, and he was a lovely boy! Mums love of sport evolved, She became a member of Hampshire County Cricket Club and spent many a day in her deck chair watching play. She was also a loyal supporter of the Saints football team and enjoyed watching some matches from the Director’s box as her friend Mrs Bowyer’s husband Basil was a director of the club. She also received a surprise gift of two Cup Final tickets in 1976 against Manchester United. Her loyalty to Southampton was life long and she enjoyed friendly rivalry with Noelle when she visited her at Moorlands. In 1976 a quirk of good fate led to my parents return to Thursley where they spent many years in The Old Parsonage continuing the 60 years of happy marriage. Both Mum and Dad embraced village life and several younger friends recount being invited to sausage and mash suppers when they first moved to Thursley. Those who knew Mum well will know food was very important to her! Some of you may wonder why Mum is pictured hugging a bear on the front page of the Order of Service. Caroline and James live in Bears Cottage, and they saw this bear whilst on holiday in the States and had him shipped home. His name is Hamilton, and he can speak. When Tone visited the two were introduced and mum was flabbergasted when Hamilton said, “Hello, Tone, how are you today?!” A big part of her life from 1981 was West Surrey Golf Club where she made many friends and happy memories. She became lady captain, and I was present on this day waiting with guests outside the clubhouse when she appeared on the fairway in a motorcycle combination, helmet and all. She also managed a hole in one at Cowdrey Park in 1988, of which she was very proud. In later life Mum received tremendous support from her friends in the village Kathleen Watson, Caroline, Hilary and Alison to name just a few. Sadly, after several falls Mum made the big decision to move to Moorlands Lodge where she spent her final five years. Once again, she made great friends amongst the staff and residents and made it her home. Jill Anstey was a great friend, and they gave each other tremendous support. Her family remained a great source of pride throughout her life, and she adorned her walls with photos of her eight grandchildren and eight great grandchildren and shared news of her nieces, nephews and Godchildren. Over the last few months Mums health declined but she remained pragmatic and cheerful. On December 29th I took a call from Moorlands and Kim and I headed up to the home and were comforted to find Jess ,one of the carers, holding Mum’s hand until we arrived. During the day Dr Poon and the staff not only cared for Mum, but us too and their professionalism and kindness throughout was a great comfort. We would like to send a heartfelt thank you to everyone at Moorlands. It was a long day and by chance we heard Ken Dodd singing Happiness. The words resonated summing up Mum’s philosophy of life. Also, on the news that night, we heard that all the planets were visible in the night sky and we like to think they helped light her way back to Rodney and her family. Nina Allen: 7th May - 1960 - 17th December 2022 Tich Corrigan: 16th July 1953 - 26th September 2022 Tich was the daughter of Mr and Mrs Kot who lived in the village, and for many years worked for the O'Briens. Sir Alan Traill: 7th May 1935 - 18th April 2020 It is with great sadness that we announce the death of one of our villagers, Sir Alan Traill GBE, QSO, MA, D.Mus. at the age of 84. He had been living with Parkinson's for the last seven years, being cared for at home and then in the final months at Moorhouse Nursing Home. Alan was born in North London and attended St Andrew's School, Eastbourne followed by Charterhouse School and Jesus College, Cambridge, where he studied law. His hobbies and passions were music and opera, and with a lifelong love of conducting he was delighted to conduct the LSO when he became Lord Mayor of London in 1984. He was passionate about supporting education, music and young people. Whilst at University he was a dab hand at building and painting stage sets, which later turned into DIY at home. He worked for many years in the City of London, as well as abroad, and was by profession an insurance risk analysis consultant, expert witness, arbitrator and mediator. He and Sarah moved to Thursley in 1988 and Alan was one of the original shareholders of The Three Horseshoes Pub and could always be relied upon to give sound advice and support. Sir Alan was Lord Mayor of London from 1984-5, an Honorary Governor and Almoner at Christ's Hospital School, Vice-President of King Edward's School, Witley, Governor of Treloar's School, Governor and Chair of the Yehudi Menuhin School, Master of the Worshipful Company of Cutlers, Master of the Worshipful Company of Musicians, Governor of St. Paul's Cathedral Choir School Foundation, Trustee of the Ann Driver Trust, member of the advisor board and Educational Committee at the LSO and Chairman of the UK-NZ 1990 committee, for which he received the Queens' Service Order (QSO) from New Zealand in recognition of his voluntary service. Alan spent most of his spare time in voluntary service, supporting a huge variety of charities. He was a governor of the Yehudi Menuhin School of Music and his contributions to the improvement of the School were innumerable and helped many hundreds of children. He established the Education Committee and facilitated the construction of The Menuhin Hall (critical to improving the musical opportunities for the children). "It is no exaggeration to say that, without him, the Menuhin Hall would not have been built. The Hall took the school into a new era and greatly enhanced and promoted its reputation worldwide" was just one of the comments received by the family in a letter of condolences from the Yehudi Menuhin School. He was the driving force behind the founding of the St Pauls Cathedral School Foundation (Chorister Trust), through whose financial support very many boys have had the chance to excel through music - an experience that for many has been truly transformational. The school said "His enduring legacy is the Trust, we will continue to strive to keep his initial vision alive. It is needed now more than ever". Alan was also one of the longest serving Almoners of Christ's Hospital School. He joined the School's Finance Committee, where he brought expert insight from his highly successful career in the insurance industry. They commented that "Sir Alan was a wonderful advocate of Christs' Hospital and had a particular passion for the School's thriving music. Whilst Lord Mayor, in a 'never been done before act', he personally took to the stage on Speech Day and conducted the School orchestra". Alan was a patron of the Treloar School & College for Disabled Young People in Alton. "Sir Alan holds a special place in our hearts and was a fantastic supporter....He will be particularly remembered for his energy which led to the state of the art 'Traill centre for Creative Arts' opening in 1987 following his successful mayoral appeal." He was also very active in his support of Morden College, a long-standing charity which has been providing residential care for older people all of whom are in financial hardship, in Blackheath. In 1985 Alan became a Knight of the Order of St John of Jerusalem, his white eight-pointed cross on a black background is an international symbol of first aid. He was appointed to the Order of Medieval Knights of London in 2002. Sir Alan joined the Court of Common Council in 1970 and served as Alderman for the Ward of Langbourn from 1975 to his aldermanic retirement in 2005, as well as being elected Sheriff in 1982 and a JP. He was immensely proud that on the day he became Lord Mayor, Sarah took part in the Lord Mayor's Show, in a fashion unlike any other lady Mayoress. For the first time in recorded history, the Lady Mayoress rode in the procession mounted on horseback and was riding side-saddle on a wonderful grey police horse. His family are very proud of all he did during his lifetime to support music, the arts and education. He was kind, generous, open-hearted and devoted to his family, with a cheeky smile and a wicked sense of humour. He will be sorely missed. Edmund Selwyn Haviland: 6th April 1924 - 17th October 2020 Order of Service: Elizabeth Prudence Jones: 1927 - 2020 Prue Jones lived at Chetwyn Cottage and never married.

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: Ann Banks; Jane Brownrigg; Brian Camp; John Holt; Anthony Kentish Kathleen Jane Brownrigg: Died 10th September 1999 Jane joined us at the Hollies in the Summer term of 1985 to help us with music. She was delighted to be amongst children again and she was like an honorary grandmother to all of them. She came regularly every Wednesday: she didn't always stick to nursery rhymes, we were treated to 'the Lambeth Walk' or an outburst of jazz, until we gently led her back to the matter in hand. Jane adored the children and was always keen to follow their progress even after they had left the Hollies. She was such a gentle, kind and gracious lady; still in touch with modern youth and retaining real interest in other people. She had a great gift with people of all ages, always showing real interest in them. With her insuppressable sense of humour, we had great fun over the years. How could we forget Jane in the fire engine (complete with fireman's hat), Jane on a farm cart at Loseley, memorable Christmas concerts, Jane draped with several children queuing up for their cuddle... Jane standing obediently and patiently while Shirley cleaned several day's worth of face powder off her glasses, while she was buttoned up having arrived with all her buttons undone... or laughing as we scolded her for not doing up her boots and scuffing as she walked along the corridor... and no-one who ever had Jane for music will ever forget THAT TUNE... that good old standby which was the first tune she had ever learnt, which meant she could play and turn around and watch the children at the same time! Needless to say, over the years that Jane was a part of the Hollies, she was greatly loved by us all, staff and children alike. Alison Anderson, Shirley Cole & Dilla Davis, for The Hollies Further Tribute from the Parish Magazine December 1999 Jane was a Devonian who never lost her affection for her native county but spent her married life helping her husband, Charles, to run Fernden School and bringing up their three children, Linda, Andrew and Johnnie. She married Charles in 1939 and was his greatest support and ally. She was immensely fond of children and had trained as a Norland nannie, so was just the person to look after generations of small boys who needed mothering. The great affection Fernden boys had for "Mrs Charles" was ample evidence of how much she meant to many of them. When she and Charles came towards retirement they bought Baker's Cottages which they converted into Wild Goose and finally settled into the village in 1975. Jane quickly became a friend to all the neighbours, including their children. Charles ran cricket coaching for local children and Jane was a popular part of these sessions - as befitted someone who was a past Captain of the Devon Ladies Cricket Team! Her talent for friendship and kindness touched all her friends in Thursley - she will be much missed. Marion O'Brien Brian Edward Camp: 1928 - 5th September 1999 These tributes came from Thursley Parish Council & Community and published in the Parish Magazine October 1999: It is with enormous regret and sadness we record here the death of our chairman Brian Camp. Brian had been a council member since 1973 and chairman for the past 20 years. During this remarkably long period he worked with great energy and enthusiasm and with a powerful sense of duty, always with the interests of Thursley and its residents in mind. With his experience at the Ministry of Agriculture and Fisheries, he was a force to be reckoned with in matters relating to local government and the residents of Thursley could take comfort from the fact that they had a man like Brian fighting their corner on issues ranging from planning, police matters, highways, footpaths and finance. Brian was a dedicated and tenacious lobbyist and was renowned up to national government level for his tireless efforts to resolve the traffic issues in Thursley. The right hand turn into Thursley off the south-bound A3 became his personal crusade and resolution of the Hindhead bypass problem was his dearest wish. Council meetings under Brian's chairmanship were lively, controversial, unpredictable and amusing. Representatives of the press and Surrey and Waverley councils were regular attendees as a result. To his fellow parish councillors, Brian's selfless dedication to his duties was a shining example to be emulated and his wise counsel will be greatly missed. Our thoughts are very much with Lynda, David and Harriet in their tragic loss. Dear Friends – Letter from Revd William Lang (Oct 1999): This last month saw the death of a remarkable man one who gave over his retirement entirely to his young family and to this parish. He served both the Parish Council and the Parochial Church Council over many years, and was a keen member of the Horticultural Society and Secretary to the Thursley Charity, but he deserves to be remembered every bit as much as a loving and conscientious husband and father. I said at his funeral, "One of the things that marked Brian out was his tremendous sense of duty, whatever he turned his hand to, he would pursue it diligently and doggedly a wonderful person to have on your side, and a wearisome opponent!" and certainly, Brian never gave up not even at the end, for he was still making plans and drafting letters until a few days before his death. I also said, "It is undoubtedly as the Chairman of the Parish Council [from 1973 to 1999] that he has really left his mark here as the champion of 'Thursley for Thursley people'. The phrase in the local press: 'The Chairman, Major Brian Camp, said...' must have presaged quite a few chills in officialdom and thrills among the locals. He deplored the depletion of the village's facilities; he implored the authorities to create a safe A3 crossing; he explored every proposal, however small, with a rigour which few appreciated (unless he was on your side) but which was done (as far as he was concerned) with scrupulous fairness. He had a tremendous ability to master detail - and, if necessary, great chunks of legislation and he loved playing with words. When he was in a good mood he was very witty; when he wasn't, he could be abrupt past the point of rudeness - I don't think he could always tell the difference." We all saw the 'public face', heard the 'public voice', but comparatively few in the village knew Brian as the 'affable Dad'. Members of (for instance) the Elstead Mother and Toddler Group saw a very different side to him one which Lynda, David and Harriet will now sorely miss, and our hearts go out to them as they begin to face life without him. I concluded, "Brian loved Thursley, and he loved its wildlife; his walks with Tammy were a source of great contentment to him; but above all, he loved his family. He may be dead, but he will not, I think, leave us" and indeed, his contributions to the life of Thursley and to his family have been considerable and will be, I feel sure, lasting ones. William Lang Anthony John Kentish: 1911 - 1998 Anthony lived at Sunset Cottage From the Parish Magazine August 1999: Anthony Kentish, or "Ant" to all his friends, went to Mill Hill School where he made numerous lifetime friends. Ant was a great sportsman, active in his time, playing rugger and sailing, and he continued to support the Old Millhillian Society. Ant's grandfather was in the wine trade and Ant joined the firm H. Parrott, eventually becoming Chairman. During the War he served in the Artillery. However, the wine trade continued to be his great love. He was a traditionalist and completely unflappable in any situation, extricating himself from anything awkward with characteristic calm. Through his wine connections he grew to know and love Portugal and there he met Ros, a talented artist painting under the name of Ros Kent. They were married and lived amongst us in Bowlhead Green at Lower House for many happy years, extending great hospitality. After Ros's death Ant moved to Sunset Cottage where he married Anna. He continued to be very much part of the village life, being a Parish Councillor, Chairman of the Conservatives and a keen supporter of all village activities. He had a great capacity for enjoyment and making other people feel happy around him, and will be very much missed by all his friends whose lives he so enriched. John Bayley Holt Admiral Holt lived in Sailors Lane. He retired from the Navy in 1970 and spent the remainder of his life at his home in Thursley. He was married in 1940 to Olga Esme Creake and had three daughters. National Portrait Gallery Ann Paton Banks: 17th December 1920 - 5th April 1998

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: Peter Anderson; Michael Chant; Pat Coles; Diana Cory; Margie Crawfurd; Katherine Feld; Ray Fry; Kate Hurman; Alfred 'Cocker' Keen; Arthur Moss; Jean Moss; Clive Platfoot; Drusilla Pye; Grace Ranson; Bridget Stewardson; Cynthia Tann; Kathleen Watson Alfred Frank Keen or “Cocker”: 8th September 1926 - 30th October 2019 From the Parish Magazine December 2019: Alfred Frank Keen or “Cocker” born to Agnes and Frank Keen on 8th September 1926 at their home The Cabin (now The Well House) next door to the pub. Cocker was the 3rd child of 6 with older sisters Dorothy and Jean and younger brothers John and Don and youngest sister Hazel, ‘plenty to have a fight with’ he would joke! Cocker enjoyed what he described recently as ‘a good childhood with plenty of room to run about’ and displayed early signs of his mischievous character by tying the door handles of cottages together! He attended school just across the road in what is now the village hall. In 1936 aged 9 the family moved up to Homefields where he was to live the rest of his life. Cocker’s first paid work came at the age of 13 in the form of delivering milk to Cosford House before he left school and became a garden boy at Milhanger. At age 16, Cocker joined Mr Cottle at Red Lion Garage, now Mathwall, where he would work during the war and learn his skills as a mechanic. Village life during the war was tough and Cocker and his younger brothers John and Don used to catch rabbits and poach pheasants, the only time meat was served at home, and every inch of ground would be dug to grow vegetables. After the war in 1947 Cocker was posted to Catterick Garrison in North Yorkshire to serve his 2 years National Service in the army before returning to Thursley. On returning to Thursley Cocker worked at Pitlands farm (now Punchbowl Farm) and Upper Highfield Farm. He enjoyed playing cricket for Thursley and became a very accomplished vegetable gardener. After farming he moved into livestock transportation with a firm named Keen (no relation) in Witley. It was following this move that Cocker saw the opportunity to become an owner/operator, he bought his own livestock lorry, parked it at Hill Farm Barns and started to transport livestock all over Surrey and beyond. We met Cocker in 1990 when we bought the barns and that was to be the beginning of a near 30 year friendship. Around this time he retired and seemed to spend all his spare time helping us. He tirelessly worked with us to establish the garden we have today and in doing so became a big part of our family’s life here in Thursley. During his retirement Cocker looked after his mother, who he lived with in Homefields, and spent much of his time helping others around the village. Cocker will be remembered by his family, friends and all those who he helped in the village. He is irreplaceable and as one villager said to me ‘they don’t make’em like that anymore’. The end of an era. Mike and Debbie Spencer Bridget Mary Stewardson: 20th February 1930 - 5th March 2019 Bridget lived in Rose Cottage, The Lane Raymond Maurice Fry: 22nd January 1936 - 6th May 2019 Ray Fry was a long-term warden and advocate for Thursley Common Jane Haviland: 21st May 1931 - 8th February 2019 Diana Cory: 2nd April 1929 - 14th February 2019 Katherine Louise Feld: 10th January 1985 - 4th April 2018 Michael Patrick Chant: 7 January 1944 - 6 February 2018 Michael, known as Mick, was husband of Tina who is a member of the Horticultural Committee. He ran the Cedars pub in Binsted. When they moved to Thursley, he became the caretaker of the village hall and was very helpful to the elderly. From the Parish Magazine March 2018: Born at Abingdon on 7.1.1944, (he managed to miss National Service by 7 days), the only son to Kath and Monty. School holidays were often spent at Grandfather's farm in Dunsfold along with his cousins, loads of fun and mischief, gaining a love of the countryside and rural activities, hunting and poaching with uncle Bill. Apprenticed to the Oxford University Press as a printer and copper plate engraver. After inheriting 'Sunnyside' the family relocated to Bramley where they took in lodgers, one being Tina. Kath was trying her hardest to matchmake with a local farmer's daughter and was horrified when Mick and Tina secretly married in 1974 and disappeared to Yorkshire. Ben was born a year later and Dan 3 years after. With his interest in tropical fish they bought a pet shop which Tina managed with her brother while Mick continued working in the print department of Selby District Council. With the deterioration of health of his parents and the changes in the print industry they decided to sell up and return to Sunnyside and became a gardener at Grafham Grange. After a back injury in 1999 a change of occupation was needed so Sunnyside was sold and The Cedars at Binsted was the new venture. Mick was in his element propping up the bar talking to the customers with his never empty glass of beer. After deciding to take early retirement from the pub a move was made to Thursley to be caretaker of their Village Hall. These years were the best, he integrated into village life helping the older inhabitants keep their independence. The boys married two beautiful girls Bex and Charlotte, the mothers of his precious grandchildren Oliver, Emma, Alice and Gabriel. Remembering back to the days he spent with his grandparents he was determined to enjoy being Grandad. Retirement meant moving to Witley where his health gradually deteriorated. In August 2016, diagnosed with oesophagus cancer, unafraid of death (can't be too bad wherever you go as no one comes back to complain) he kept telling stories and jokes up to the last few days. “Thank you to everyone who sent such kind messages of condolence on the death of Mick. I never realised how comforting reading those words could be, other people's memories and anecdotes adding to my own. We felt honoured to see so many Thursley residents at his funeral on a day that challenged the travel arrangements of many of our relatives. Convinced he had a hand in orchestrating the dreadful weather conditions would have appealed to his sense of humour. It was thanks to you that the crematorium filled up and we felt he had a good send off. The years spent at the village hall were some of the best, integrating into the village and making so many friends, seeing our sons mature and marry but best of all the births of his precious grandchildren.” Tina Chant John Patrick Coles: 8th September 1934 - 22nd August 2017 The eulogy was delivered by Alan Peters, Pat's greatest friend, and his sons Simon and Matthew: This moving address was given by the Revd Edmund Haviland: Kathleen Winifred Watson: 6th November 1917 - 24th April 2017 Margaret Vowe Crawfurd: 24th January - 11th January 2016 Margie Crawfurd was involved in a nursing charity in the village and was keen on welcoming newcomers. She was in charge of a high-class and prestigious art show held in the village hall for many years (see separate entry). She was the prime mover of the church kneelers (see separate entry) and also served on Waverley Borough Council. Margie Crawfurd, 1981 Grace Pope Ranson: 10th April 1927 - 9th March 2015 Major Clive Gordon Frederick Platfoot: 16th February 1931 - 31st August 2014 Major Platfoot lived in Churt, next to The Pride of the Valley, and was a keen churchgoer at St Michael & All Angels. He sold wrist alarms for the elderly and dubious home-made wine was a hobby. Drusilla Pye: 28th December 1927 - 13th January 2014 Drusilla was the formidable village and much-loved midwife who lived at 2 Church Cottages Drusilla Pye's Memorial Bench designed by her brother, the sculptor, William Pye Kate Hurman: 24th September 1928 - 31st July 2013 She lived in Old Potters on Pitch Place, an equestrienne and she and her husband had a fine collection of bronze statuary. She lived in Old Potters on Pitch Place, an equestrienne and she and her husband had a fine collection of bronze statuary. 6th March 1926 – 5th October 2012 Cynthia Tann: 6th March 1926 - 5th October 2012 Cynthia lived on Pitch Place, she was a glamourous ex-model who had three children. She was an artist and a keen churchgoer whose brilliant flower arrangements were often on display. She read the lessons beautifully. Peter Richard Anderson: 1944 - 2011 Arthur Edward Moss: 1916 - 2010 Arthur lived at Wheelwrights on The Street with his wife, Jean (see below). He was on the village hall committee and was in charge of raising the flag. This was Arthur's recollections of his war which was produced for the History of Thursley Society's 'Victory in 1945 Celebration' exhibition held in 1995: I spent VE Day marching away from the Russian Front, we were still POWs but the Germans were very agitated and disorganised and we could hear the Russian guns so we knew that our captors were losing the war. Ten of broke away from the chaos and found ourselves in a small German Village. There we met the local schoolteacher who took us into her home, took the down her picture of Hitler from the wall and cooked us a marvellous sit down supper. We then met up with a group of Serbs and were driven around on a horse and cart. After the Serbs, we joined a small party of Russians who plied us with methylated spirits and schnapps! At Chemnitz Station we finally me the Americans, who took us to Rheims to the Frech and we were flown home in Lancasters to freedom. I arrived back on the 19th May 1945 having been a prisoner of the Germans for almost five years bar a week. I was able to join in the celebrations for VJ Day and stood outside Buckingham Palace wit Gwladys, a young nurse friend, cheering as loudly as I could. Peter Richard Anderson: 1944 - 2011 Peter was married to Alison and lived in Brook Cottage on Dye House Road. Jean Scotson Moss: 1927 - 2010 Jean lived at Wheelwrights with her husband, Arthur

This article written by Jackie Rickenberg was published in the Parish Magazine in June 2020 As we missed our planned VE Day celebration in the village hall on May 8th, we thought we would stick with the theme for a few months more for our peep into the archives. We have such interesting records of past and present Thursley residents’ recollections from this time, that it’s worth reminiscing and trying to imagine just how they felt when the announcement was made and the war was finally over. We start with “Cocker” Keen, who very sadly recently passed away. Here is his story: Recollections by “Cocker” Keen “I’ve lived in Thursley all of my life and in this house in Homefield since 1937. At the start of the war I was at school in what is now the Village Hall. I left when I was 14 and started work for Reg Cottle at the Red Lion Garage (still there today but now called X). I stayed there until I was called up into the army between VE and VJ Days. I already had some military experience having served in Thursley’s Home Guard. I joined the Home Guard in 1942 when I was 16. There were 28 of us in it when it started, 6 of us on duty every night. You had 2 hours on duty and 4 hours off through the night and then you were back to your regular job the next morning. We would meet at the servant’s quarters at Foldsdown; the servants had gone to war and so their wooden annexe building at the back of the main house had been vacated. After D-Day, the night duties ended and we just played around; attacking the RAF pylon up at Gibbet Hill and practising firing live ammunition on the rifle range at Longmoor. In the village at this time was also the AFS (Auxiliary Fire Service), based in the studio of Red Lodge and the Air Raid Wardens who were based at the Village Institute (now Prospect Cottage). During the war the village was always full of troops. The Tank Corps were here when they came out of Dunkirk and were camped up in the trees in Dye House, the Canadians were at Tweedsmuir and the Free French were up at Rodborough. As a result, the pubs were always short of beer! Mr Fosberry, the landlord of the Three Horseshoes, kept the villagers happy by closing the pub but allowing the regulars round the back door and into the kitchen where they could enjoy their cherished pint! I remember once, a German bomber was being chased and jettisoned his bombs. One landed in the Hall’s barn field where the dairy cows were, killing all of them. A bomb also landed in the folly, the valley below Hedge Farm. Another couple fell on the fields of Upper Highfield Farm but it was only the Halls’ who lost their animals. They reckoned the bombs had been destined for the Armoured Corp, who were up in the woods with the troops. The Canadians used to drive their Sherman tanks up to the Punch Bowl and it became a desert from all the tank activity up there. They also blew up the remains of George May’s farm, Highcombe Farm, down in the Punch Bowl. Mr Gorringe from Upper Ridgeway Farm cleared up the rubble and used it to convert the barn into the cottage where Malcolm Cole now lives. We would go down to the Moat when the troops were water-proofing their vehicles and watch them drive through. They’d give us a ride; those Canadians didn’t care! The Canadians were good fun and once the war was over, we had to get back to the quiet life of a rural community. For me, that meant that some of my neighbours had been killed and my sister was married (to a Canadian soldier) and living across the Atlantic. The Parker’s lived at Foldsdown and their son was killed in Holland. His name is inscribed on his parents’ headstone in the churchyard. A neighbour from Homefield, Ronald Francis, was killed in a Bren Gun carrier (a light machine gun armament) out in France and Bob Sharland who lived at Number 7 Homefield was also killed”. Fascinating to see the war from a youngster’s perspective. The trauma and horror of the reality, only latterly impacting on the excitement and enthusiasm of a teenage boy. More recollections next month. Cocker Keen's Obituary: Alfred Frank Keen or “Cocker” born to Agnes and Frank Keen on 8th September 1926 at their home The Cabin (now The Well House) next door to the pub. Cocker was the 3rd child of 6 with older sisters Dorothy and Jean and younger brothers John and Don and youngest sister Hazel, ‘plenty to have a fight with’ he would joke! Cocker enjoyed what he described recently as ‘a good childhood with plenty of room to run about’ and displayed early signs of his mischievous character by tying the door handles of cottages together! He attended school just across the road in what is now the village hall. In 1936 aged 9 the family moved up to Homefields where he was to live the rest of his life. Cocker’s first paid work came at the age of 13 in the form of delivering milk to Cosford House before he left school and became a garden boy at Milhanger. At age 16, Cocker joined Mr Cottle at Red Lion Garage, now Mathwall, where he would work during the war and learn his skills as a mechanic. Village life during the war was tough and Cocker and his younger brothers John and Don used to catch rabbits and poach pheasants, the only time meat was served at home, and every inch of ground would be dug to grow vegetables. After the war in 1947 Cocker was posted to Catterick Garrison in North Yorkshire to serve his 2 years National Service in the army before returning to Thursley. On returning to Thursley Cocker worked at Pitlands farm (now Punchbowl Farm) and Upper Highfield Farm. He enjoyed playing cricket for Thursley and became a very accomplished vegetable gardener. After farming he moved into livestock transportation with a firm named Keen (no relation) in Witley. It was following this move that Cocker saw the opportunity to become an owner/operator, he bought his own livestock lorry, parked it at Hill Farm Barns and started to transport livestock all over Surrey and beyond. We met Cocker in 1990 when we bought the barns and that was to be the beginning of a near 30 year friendship. Around this time he retired and seemed to spend all his spare time helping us. He tirelessly worked with us to establish the garden we have today and in doing so became a big part of our family’s life here in Thursley. During his retirement Cocker looked after his mother, who he lived with in Homefields, and spent much of his time helping others around the village. Cocker will be remembered by his family, friends and all those who he helped in the village. He is irreplaceable and as one villager said to me ‘they don’t make’em like that anymore’. The end of an era. Mike and Debbie Spencer The eulogy for Cocker Keen written and delivered by Mike Spencer Alfred Frank Keen or “Cocker” born to Agnes and Frank Keen on 8th September 1926 at their home The Cabin (now The Well House) next door to the pub. Cocker was the 3rd child of 6 with older sisters Dorothy and Jean and younger brothers John and Don and youngest sister Hazel, ‘plenty to have a fight with’ he would joke! Cocker enjoyed what he described recently as ‘a good childhood with plenty of room to run about’ and displayed early signs of his mischievous character by tying the door handles of cottages together! He attended school just across the road in what is now the village hall. In 1936 aged 9 the family moved up to Homefields where he was to live the rest of his life. Cocker’s first paid work came at the age of 13 in the form of delivering milk to Cosford House before he left school and became a garden boy at Milhanger. At age 16, Cocker joined Mr Cottle at Red Lion Garage, now Mathwall, where he would work during the war and learn his skills as a mechanic. Village life during the war was tough and Cocker and his younger brothers John and Don used to catch rabbits and poach pheasants, the only time meat was served at home, and every inch of the garden would be dug to grow vegetables. After the war in 1947 Cocker was posted to Catterick Garrison in North Yorkshire to serve his 2 years National Service in the army before returning to Thursley. On returning to Thursley Cocker worked at Pitlands farm (now Punchbowl Farm) and Upper Highfield Farm. He enjoyed playing cricket for Thursley and became an accomplished vegetable gardener. After farming he moved into livestock transportation with a firm named Keen in Witley. It was following this move that Cocker saw the opportunity to become an owner/operator, he bought his own livestock lorry, parked it at Hill Farm Barns and started to transport livestock all over Surrey and beyond. Debbie and I met Cocker in 1990 when we bought the barns in Thursley where he parked his lorry.He was always mysterious about his age saying he was ‘as old as my tongue and a little bit older than my teeth’ but he had reached retirement and seemed to spend all his spare time helping us.That was to be the beginning of a near 30 year friendship.Aged 30 and naive we had embarked on a huge project to convert the barns to a home and we really couldn’t have done it without him.He was endlessly resourceful, always had the right tool for the job, strong as an ox and worked tirelessly.Cocker was many things to usA good friendA kind of grandfather to our boysHe was always looking out for us even when we weren’t around. And he was a teacher: Yes, he was a teacher He taught me everything I know about gardening:When we first moved to Thursley we had nothing but a tumbled down building and 6 foot high weeds and even before we did the renovation and moved in - cocker had established a beautiful veg garden for us. We probably had the worst house in Thursley at that time but the best vegetable garden, we didn’t have a proper kitchen but we ate the best new potatoes ever!Every spring come rain or shine he would come and help plant the potatoes and start off the beans on the bean poles he’d made - and after a couple of years he gave me the flattering title of Head Gardener but clearly I was still the novice and he was the font of all horticultural knowledge. Cocker would say Mike was the labourer who wasn’t much good at digging as the ‘ground was too low’...He had a great sense of humour he liked to tease me - like when the clocks changed in the spring and autumn he would say he’d been busy climbing the church spire to change the sundial. And he would say I should garden at night to prevent weeds and used to say he whoever can grow parsley wears the trousers so I got a new title - Petticoat Government. So when spring comes next year I will think of Cocker as I double dig the veg plot the way he taught me, I’ll sow the potatoes over the Easter weekend, I will plant green beans and courgettes in May, I will be trimming the box hedges on Derby day never before and late summer when I harvest the tomatoes and dig up the potatoes I’ll hope I’ll hear his voice saying - I'm not doing badly for a Head Gardener! We’ll miss you Cocker but you’ll always be with me in the garden.

From Wikipedia: In a heatwave in 2006, an out-of-control wildfire burned 60% of the common, but by 2010 the heath was regenerating, with heather and gorse spreading across the charred ground. Forty-five pairs of Dartford warblers were recorded before the event, and six pairs in 2010. See Jill Fry's timeline and annotations to the second batch of photographs. Map overlay by Sean Edwards Newspaper coverage of the 2006 fire Reporting by the BBC: http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/southern_counties/5180828.stm A vast amount of equipment and manpower was used to bring the fire under control: https://www.fire-appliances.com/Fire/United-Kingdom/County-Services-Current/Surrey-Fire-Rescue-Service/Thursley-Common-Fire-15072006/i-Mc4XP7D/A Jill Fry's account In April 2024, Thursley History Society was given a vast amount of records, photographs and CDs by Julia Connell who had sorted them from her mother and father's archives. Her parents, Ray and Jill Fry were great lovers of Thursley Common where Ray was the warden for X years. This comprehensive record of the devastating 2006 fire, with photographs from Jill, Tim Walsh, Sean Edwards, Steve Webster and Hugh Turrell-Clarke, along with a timeline, was taken from one of Jill's CDs Read Jill Fry's timeline of the fire from inception to regrowth - the numbers match the sequence of the photographs above: This letter of appreciation from Brian Moore, Deputy Chief Constable of Surrey Police speaks to the wonderful communioty spirit that we have in Thursley Surrey Advertiser, Friday 14th September 2012

In 1892, a return of Licensed Houses to Guildford Petty Sessions, show the pub as a free house. The Licensee was Arthur Steed, and the owner was Miss Rushbrooke. The usage was that of the general public. Listed under Thursley Public Houses were Railway Hotel, Crown and Cushion and other Haslemere Pubs. This shows they were in Thursley Parish. In the early part of World War 1, the publican of of The Three Horse Shoes, Arthur Ford and his wife, were dismissed by the brewery for procuring girls for the soldiers. This photo was taken when the pub was being used as a filmset. 'Save the Pub' and celebration poster Val and Paddy De Burgh, New Year's Eve 1984 Identified revellers are: David Jeffcoat; Popsy; Katy Jeffcoat; Hilary Barr Val De Burgh, Landlord of the Three Horse Shoes - January 1985 Men of Thursley Ride from The Three Horseshoes Pub 2008: Paul Smolas, Peter Broste, Philip Traill, Peter Rickenberg From the Parish Magazine January 2004: T he Three Horseshoes re-opens after Quarantine, 4 July 2020: Photographs by Andrew Kaplanovsky

Placards in the village hall. From The Mail On Sunday, April 2023, 1989. A fancy dress parade was held to celebrate winning in 1960: Michael Jupe, Chairman of Thursley Parish Council and Lord Hamilton of Dalzell - Best Kept village presentation. September 1961 Dick Winter receiving a tankard from Lord Hamilton of Dalzell. Best Kept Village presentation, September 1961 Best Kept Village Celebrations at the Cricket Green, 1961. Back Row: C Cooper, B Ashley, J Ellison, Watson, Craddock-Henry, R Crawfurd, ?, Dick Winter, J Bozward, K Guyatt. Front Row: M Rapley, C Darlow, W Cooper, L Cooper, R Loarridge, M Cooper The 1970s: 1985: Unveiling Best Kept Village Award, 1985 L to R: Anthony Kentish, unknown, Leslie Fenn, Eddie Gale, unknown Two groups attending the Best Kept Village Award, 1985, and in the centre, Major Brian Camp, Chairman of Thursley Parish Council with Mrs Guyatt, late of Hedge Farm. Best kept village Hall award ceremony 19?, Unknown, Brian Camp, Eddie Gayle, Peter Scheffers From the Parish Magazine September 2005:

On 20th February 2025, Marion O'Brien and Amanda Flint-Roberts gave a talk in the Church. This article, written by Jackie Rickenberg, first appeared in the Parish Magazine in February 2025: St Michael and All Angels, John Hassell 1824 Please, if you haven’t already done so, could you put Thursday the 20th February into your diaries. Marion O’Brien and Amanda Flint-Roberts will be giving a talk in our beautiful church about …. our beautiful church, as it approaches it millennium. It starts at 7.30pm and the History Society will be collecting donations on the door. No need to book, just turn up to learn more about the amazing history of this ancient building at the centre of our village. Our archives have recently moved (I could tell you where but …) and it has given us an opportunity to delve deep into its contents. Now and again, amongst the deeds and the official documents, a little piece of magic is unearthed and this is one such piece. It is a photocopy of an original hand-written record, not particularly old, but nonetheless, intriguing. It is not signed or dated and it is in little random paragraphs, full of past church life. “The churchyard wall along the road used to have iron rings set in it at intervals, for horses to be tied to during services. Now, alas, all have disappeared. Lionel Rapley told me that when he was a young man attending a funeral, the gravedigger had dug the hole too small, so that during interment the coffin got stuck and nothing would free it. The gravedigger then jumped up and down on it and bashed it with a shovel, to no more avail than was the highly infunereal language he used throughout. He had to get down to it and dig the hole properly! Lionel Rapley told me that one Sunday when he was a young man, the congregation wondered why the vicar was so late for Matins, and the reason was that since he drove like a bat out of hell, he had overturned his coach in The Street on the way up to the church. A year before the bells were recast and overhauled we were forbidden to ring them because of their dilapidated state, as there was a real danger that they would break from their head stocks and descend to the floor of the nave. During the ministry of Bill Mills a bird flew into Matins one morning. After teasing the vicar considerably, it settled on the steps of the pulpit during the sermon. The vicar, a better cricketer than footballer, took a kick at it and missed. During the last hymn it settled on Mr Rapley’s head as he played the organ, and in fending it off he dislodged the fall, which being extremely heavy, descended on his hands. This brought the service to an unconventional close. Before the advent of the fundraising scheme known as Christian Stewardship, the finances of the church were in such poor shape that only the most pressing fabric repairs could be undertaken and the school, now in the village hall, was sold to the council because the church could not afford to keep the roof repaired. In those days the only way of raising money was by a Day of Gifts when a bucket was placed beside the font for donors to use. Strict anonymity was observed and the total raised was not very large. Some time ago the weather vane on the church steeple had for many years been stationary. This annoyed Christopher Watson, who lived at The Lodge, so much, that eventually he financed its removal and had it repaired to its present operational condition. For many years there was a line of elms along the south side of the churchyard, which shut out the sun and made the “new” part of the churchyard constantly damp and dark. The trees were felled about twelve years ago, making the bright and attractive end to the churchyard we have today. Since elms have a way of raising up as saplings after felling, it is much to be hoped that they will be kept clipped. The crocuses just inside the churchyard gate were planted by Mrs Malins who lived with her daughter and son-in-law, Mr Jobson, at Foldown. Though she has gone, her crocuses are a constant delight to us all in the Spring. On the altar there used to be two brass candlesticks which were part of a matching set which included the cross. The candlesticks were both stolen about ten years ago. Other vandalism from time to time has included smashing of the stained-glass windows in the chancel and North Aisle, smashing open the organ and vestry with attempts to open the safe, and immeasurable attempts on the alms box, as the many jemmy marks on the surrounding stonework testify. The best way of guarding against such damage is by unpremeditated visits, and restricting entry of the church to all and sundry”. It would seem that there have been many dramas in our church’s life throughout the years but we’re delighted to report that it is currently in a healthy financial position and that any repairs are dealt with promptly by our marvellous Clerk of Works, Simon Treadwell. The current Parochial Church Council, headed up by our wonderful Rev Hannah, oversee all Church matters and we are delighted and appreciative that this historic church is open daily for villagers and visitors alike. This beautifully hand-written, undated brief history of St Michael's Church is from our archive: THE SUN DIAL: from the Partish Magazine July 2002 Saxon window in church which was uncovered in1927 The page below accompanied this illustration of the Church which indicates it was published c1823 From the Parish Magazine April 2004 A pastel sketch dated 25th May 1929 made by Norman Parley Five photographs from 1934: The Altar in or around 1934 Detail of Thursley Font, F.E.N. 24th May, 1934 The Tower Structure in Thursley Nave, John Gould, 24th May, 1934 Base of Tower Upright, Thursley Nave, John Gould, 24th May 1934 The North Wall of Thursley Nave, John Gould, 24th May 1934 From The Guildford Diocesan Herald, 2008

From Thursley Parish Magazine December 2019, written by Rosemary Stockdale The Tweedsmuir Camp (off Dye House Road) was built by the Royal Canadian Engineers in 1941 and it became the home of the Canadian Lorne Scots Regiment for over 3 years from 1941 to 1944. It officially closed in 1947 and then became the home of Polish displaced persons until it closed down. On January 10th 1943 the Lorne Scots Regiment marched through Thursley to the church to present a brass plaque to the village to mark the many occasions that the Canadian unit worshipped at the church during their stay at the camp (located on right hand side of the church). A live video of this visit is recorded on the Canadian Army Newsreels and can be viewed by clicking on the link . It is well worth viewing as it shows the village as it was in 1943 and the Lorne Scots Regiment marching through the village to the church. In April 2004 their pipes and drums were heard in Thursley once again when they returned to visit the camp and the commemorate plaque in the Church, to pay tribute to their comrades who served here during the war and those that didn’t return to Canada. Lorne Scots practice on the recreation ground - undated From the Parish Magazine July 2004

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: Alastair Banks; Edward Crawfurd; Robert Crawfurd; Eve Fausset; Annette Graham-Stewart; John Graham-Stewart; Richard Kane; Barbara Marchant; Tom Ranson; John Roles; Brian Sharp; Susan Treadwell; Douglas Watson Annette Graham-Stewart: 14th April 1920 - 19th October 2009 Annette and John (see below) lived in Houndown, Pitch Place, and their sons, Alistair and Cameron still live there. John and Annette Graham-Stewart in 1977 Brian William Sharp: 2nd November 1928 - 18th September 2009 He was a newcomer to the village and he was not here long before he died, but he was keen to join in everything, a good organiser, on the village hall committee and Horticultural Society committee. Douglas Quartly Watson: 1st June 1945 - 10th May 2009 Wing Commander Douglas Watson DFC, lived in The Corner, his wife Kathleen was Chair of the village hall committee for many years and was known for her diplomacy. She was a physiotherapist by profession. Robert John Payne Crawfurd: 29th March 1917-24th February 2008 Robert was an identical twin of Edward, he played the organ, sang in the church choir, grew orchids and lived in Pitch Place. Eve Fausset: 11th July 1934 - 14th July 2008 Susan Caroline Lawies Treadwell: 1954 - 2008 John Eric Roles: 17th May 1938 - 1st May 2008 Thomas Arthur Ranson (Tom): 31st March 1922 - 13th July 2007 Dr John Cameron Graham-Stewart: 3rd December 1920 - 16th May 2007 Annette and John (see above) lived in Houndown, Pitch Place, and their sons still live there. Both were keen members of the Horticultural Society. John and Annette Graham-Stewart in 1977 Douglas Bernard Stocker Fitch: 16th April 1927 - 9th July 2006 Peggy Irene Stokes: Died 18th March 2005 Ray and Peggy Stokes in 1993 From the Parish Magazine August 2005: On behalf of Peggy Stokes who sadly is no longer with us, I would like to say thank you to Hilary Barr for providing and arranging the beautiful flowers in St Michael’s and All Angels Church when the remembrance service for Peggy took place. Also, many thanks to Ruth Nightingale; for your kindness in opening your home and providing refreshments to those of us who attended the church service. I should like to acknowledge everyone who attended and all of you who donated to the collection made on behalf of the Phyllis Tuckwell Hospice. To all of you, your kind generosity is appreciated. Sandra Cheeseman Valery Jean Wishart: Died 2005 From the Parish Magazine June 2005: Thank you so much for your cards, letters, sympathy and offers of help following my mother's tragic death. Thank you also to Revd William Lang and to the villagers who were able to attend Mum's funeral. You have all been a great comfort to us and I hope that this poem, written by mum many years ago, will be a comfort to you also, and maybe even make you smile. Denise Good morning Mrs So-and-soWe're not long opened - please don't go!What did I say? What have I done?And the day has only just begun. Oh, here comes Mr What's-his-name,No need to be clever to guess his game!However, next time I'll show him the doorIf he dares to offend me anymore! No - wait! he's just posting a letter;Suddenly I feel so much better.It seems to me it's one of those daysThat nothing I do can quite erase. Just a second - here's Mrs B,One stamp or two, for your TV?Three, - that's more than I had hoped,Four, and I doubt if I'd have coped! Now for it! Here comes the rush.A host of youngsters, - Hush, please hush!No, sorry, we no longer sell barsOf chocolate; or loose sweets in jars What a relief, - its quiet again,But oh dear no, - it's started to rain,Not to worry, I'll put the kettle on -Whoops, there's the shop bell - and now she's gone! Never mind here comes another,And hasn't she grown just like her mother?Hello dear, what would you likeYou cheeky young imp! - Now on your bike. Yes Mr Erh... no, I hadn't heard.Well really and truly, isn't that absurd?A one-way-street, what do you mean?How will we get back from wherever we've been? Excuse me now, while I serve this young man,Well, you'd better turn round if that's your van.Go up the lane and past the church;Then after that, you'll have to search. Now, Mrs H, - what is the trouble?You dropped your shopping in the puddle!Oh, my goodness - what a messWhat was that? No, let me guess. First class stamps? Your usual dozen?They're not for you, - they're for your cousin.Just the one? Oh - second rate.Seems today that's just my fate. What a day, - heaven knows,Five more minutes and then I'll close,Now the 'phone, who can that be?Ernie's pulled one out, - for me? Valerie Wishart Edna Ada Lucy Goble: 5th June 1918 - 24th April 2004 From the Parish Magazine June 2004: Edna was born on June 5th, 1918 to Jessie and George Boxall. She was born in North-chapel where her father was a farm labourer. While she was still a small child the family moved to Ramsnest, Chiddingfold and lived in Oak Cottage for 25 years. Edna was educated at Chiddingfold School. On leaving she became a nanny for a local family. She joined the ATS at the beginning of WWII and did her part for the country as a Predictor, tracing enemy aircraft. She was transferred to many stations across the country. Edna became Corporal Boxall and taught Physical Training. Although she didn’t know it at the time, it was to be a good start for her future life as it made her very fit. On demob Edna returned to Ramsnest and became a dressmaker for a shop in Haslemere, a trade she never forgot as she made most of her clothes herself. Only a few weeks ago she showed me her latest blouse which she had just finished. Edna loved Old Time Dancing and was a regular guest at Chiddingfold Club. It was there that she met and fell in love with Arthur (known as Pete) Goble. They married at Chiddingfold Church on June 20th, 1953. They rented a room in a house in Homefield, Thursley. They then bought a plot of land and waited for planning permission to build Little Cowdray Farm. It took just 4 months to complete and they moved in May 1956. In the meantime a little surprise arrived by the name of Peter-John, who was their pride and joy and only child. Edna was a hard worker and helped Pete build up a small herd of Jersey cows. She also set up a Farmhouse Bed and Breakfast, which was a great part of her life. She met many people from around the world, many of whom stayed friends with Edna over the years and kept in touch. Edna’s other great love was her garden. She spent many enjoyable hours tending her flowers and vegetables, proudly displaying her achievements in the local flower shows. She was also a very good cook, days before the show would find her beavering away preparing her exhibits. Fancy icing, as she called it, wasn’t her best point. I remember one year she wanted to have a go at decorated Harvest cake and was having trouble moulding the marzipan vegetables, so I gave her a lesson. Her finished results gave us both a good laugh: we weren’t too sure what they were supposed to represent, but our Edna proudly displayed it in the show and couldn’t believe her eyes when she won first prize. Until recently, if you ventured into the garden on a summer’s evening, you would see this strange white form gliding slowly down the path with a smoke gun in hand; you might have thought a Martian had arrived. No, it was only Edna attending her bees, which she originally bought at Ramsnest. It never bothered her if she got stung and said it was good for you and they were only being friendly. She loved to teach her grandchildren how to turn the handle of the honey extractor (mind you, she may have had an ulterior motive as it made one’s arm ache). The children didn’t mind, they knew they could have a spoon and scrape out the last of the honey and then trot home to mum with sticky faces. Edna gained a daughter, Teresa, when Peter married in October 1981. They gave her three precious grandchildren, Lucy, James and Emily. Just another job for Edna, a built-in baby sitter. I think she must have passed on a few of her genes as they are very sporty. It gave her a chuckle to see them standing more on their hands than on their feet. Sadly Peter, her husband, died suddenly in 1987. A few months later Edna announced she was going to take driving lessons and was determined to pass. She did so at the age of 70. It was a great asset to her and gave her great pleasure. She loved driving and continued to drive regularly to the last. Much of Edna’s latter years was being involved in the clubs of Thursley village and transporting the elderly to various places, including Milford Day Centre. When it was suggested she should join herself you would promptly be told it was for the elderly and she wasn’t there yet! She loved the village and served it well. She loved to walk its lanes with her best mate, her little dog Vicky. Animals have played a big part in her life; she was never without a pet. Church, too, was very important to her. She loved to take her turn in the Church arranging the flowers picked from her garden. She attended regularly. Edna will be very much missed... God bless you, Edna. Brian Michael Francis: 24th February 1939 - 31st March 200 Janina Kot: 1923 - 13th October 2003 From the Parish Magazine December 2003: Mrs Janina Kot, who died on October 13th 2003, was born in 1923 in Lodz, Poland. Following the German invasion in 1939 she was transported, with so many others, as forced labour to Germany. She spent the war years first in a fish processing factory in Cuxhaven, and later on a farm just outside that town. Following the terrible upheaval in Europe and the displacement of people at the end of the war, Mrs Kot was unwilling to return to her home in Poland - now firmly in Russian hands. As a result she found herself in UNRRA camps. Whilst in Gottingen she met Jan Kot who, also born in Poland, was serving in the British Army. Eventually they came to England and married. To begin with they lived in Tweedsmuir Camp in Thursley, and then at 10 Homefield. During this time she brought up her family, Michael, Eva and Tich. The following is part of the tribute paid at Mrs Kot’s funeral by Sarah O’Brien Mrs Kot was truly a second mother and grandmother to all of us in the O’Brien family. For my own mother, as a young bride in Thursley and then a young mother whose family lived in Scotland, Mrs Kot was always there to give support, advice and a dash of good old-fashioned Polish wisdom. For my Father, I do not think any blood parent or grandparent could have given him such heartfelt bear-hugs ad did Mrs Kot following the birth of each of us three children. I think a fourth child was out of the question if Dad was to survive! For the three of us children Mrs Kot’s constancy and warmth was a central theme in our lives and, as my brother Charlie remarked, these qualities were so much in evidence during energetic conversations around the kitchen table. This same kitchen table was also where Mrs Kot, herself a first-class seamstress, taught me to sew. My brother Jamie reminded me that I was not the only one to benefit from Mrs Kot’s talent with needle and thread. She could always be relied upon to take in or let out trouser ‘flares’ at a moment’s notice and thus help us avoid social failure at school. None of us, least of all Midge our Border Terrier, can remember a time, ever, when on reaching Mrs Kot’s door or on her reaching our, she did not respond to us with smiles, warmth and affection. We will miss her greatly. Sarah O'Brien Joseph Hunter Sharland: 3rd November 1922 - 27th August 2003 From the Parish Magazine October 2003: Joseph may have been know by some of you. He spent his childhood here in Thursley living at Upper Ridgeway Farm, now owned by Mr and Mrs Coles. He was always proud to have lived here but very sadly passed away on 27th August 2003, leaving his wife June, five children and nine grandchildren. His funeral was held at St Michael and all Angels, Thursley on 12th September and he was laid to rest with his parents and other family members. The family wanted to give him a memorable send off, which included a glass carriage drawn by two very smart black horses. The funeral procession started at Upper Ridgeway Farm. Mr and Mrs Coles very kindly lent the family a field in which to turn vehicles and leave the horsebox etc, so a big thank you to them. Reverend William Lang conducted the funeral service and the burial and the family and friends of Joseph were delighted with the service. So, thank you Rev William Lang, you did him proud! Rest in Peace Joe, you will be very sadly missed. Denise (née) Wishart Barbara Marchant: died 13th May 2003 Barbara lived at Pitch Place Farm From the Parish Magazine July 2003: Barbara died very peacefully on 13 May, three and a half years after being first diagnosed with breast cancer. She has faced this period with tremendous courage, determination and good humour. She survived 11 days in intensive care during February 2001 and was subsequently able to travel St.Lucia, Tresco(twice), Venice, Mauritius and also to ski in Verbier. We will remember Barbara with affection for the warmth that she brought to all that she did, the contribution that she made to all of our lives and the example that she was to us all. Barbara had many roles: wife, mother, daughter, sister, godparent, dentist (she had a reputation for not only being respected but actually liked by her patients!), neighbour, generous hostess, shopper?, sports supporter and dogcarer. To all these roles she brought certain qualities. Qualities which ensured that they were all fulfilled to the highest standard, assisted by a strong sense of determination, good planning and plain hard work. Whilst her interest in and love for her own family was paramount she was always there for others, showing a deep sense of care, interest and support. She not only had time and love for all her friends but the children of her friends. Barbara always looked immaculate and her skiing was fast and effortless. She encouraged all of those around her to raise their game to match hers and she did this with a mixture of good humour, tireless energy, a lovely giggle, a zest for enjoyment and through her dignified demeanour. Above all was her fantastic smile, which she carried with her everywhere. Arthur Edward Gale BEM: 1918 - 24th February 2002 Judy Leavitt: 4 October 1922 - 2 February 2003 From the Parish Magazine May 2003: After education in England and abroad, Judy served in the WAAF during World War II. She married first in the late 1940's and converted to the Catholic faith. She had five daughters and two sons and eventually numerous grandchildren. She and her family moved to Frensham in the mid-1960's where her first husband died in the late 1970's. In 1984 she married John Leavitt (whose house is in Cape Cod) and they moved to Upper Highfield Farmhouse. Until more recently Judy and John used to spend the spring and autumn in Cape Cod and the rest of the year in Thursley. Judy was a warm, friendly, outgoing person who liked people. She had a great facility for making friendships and keeping them. Her Christmas card list was numbered in the hundreds and she was also a good letter and postcard writer and diarist. She loved Cornwall and other parts of the country and also Normandy and Brittany, and in all these areas she made and kept up with friends and stayed with them whenever possible. She loved travelling generally, and we and our friends have enjoyed several holidays in America and Europe with Judy and John. On these occasions as well as on Judy's other wanderings her camera was always well in evidence, even to the point of her nearly missing rendezvous or departure times. Judy's strong faith was most important to her and her concerned interest in humanity led her instinctively to do many kindnesses throughout her life. She was also a great lover of animals, especially horses and dogs. She used to ride her horse, Ben, in the Punchbowl and on Thursley Common, and she was devoted to her dog, Meg. She helped with Riding for the Disabled for some years. She was a member of the Thursley Club and the History Society and she enjoyed taking part in those and other village activities. Judy enjoyed outdoor pursuits, including swimming, golf and tennis and she would leap into the sea or her friends' pools at every opportunity. Nearly fifty years of close friendship and shared experiences, when ended, leave a large gap. We all feel for John in his grievous loss. Judy was a warm presence who will be very greatly missed by many people, old friends and new alike. Bridget and Rennie Stewardson Phyllis Reed: 1911 - 10th June 2002 From the Parish Magazine September 2002: Phil Reed was born at Wareham in Dorset, the only child of Mr & Mrs Childs. Her father was a blacksmith and a small farmer. When Phil left school at the age of fourteen years, she became apprenticed to a milliner in a nearby town. However she did not like country life and was longing to get to London, which she eventually did, and became a housemaid in a large house in Grosvenor Square, this is where she met her husband, who was working as a carpenter in the house. They were married in the village where she was born. During the war they lived in Cranleigh and by this time had two daughters Patricia and Monica. Eventually, because Mr Reed was a relative of the Fosberry family they moved into “The Clump” in the village and Mr Reed took over the family building business; This was in 1948. As a family they enjoyed taking part in, and visiting, steam rallies, and travelled to many parts of South East England. Phil was always interested in the life of the village, but the Thursley Club gave her most pleasure. It was at the club that I got to know her and we enjoyed many outings together. She was a good friend, Her grandchildren also gave her much pleasure. As she became less mobile, she was looked after at home by Monica. Eventually it became necessary for her to move into a nursing home. She died peacefully at “The Wilton” at Beacon Hill on June 10th age 91 years. Edna Goble Hilda Augusta Branchini: 1907 - 29th December 2000 From the Parish Magazine March 2021: At its recent meeting, the committee of the Horticultural Society expressed particular regret at the passing of Miss Branchini who was a generous and knowledgeable supporter of the Society. In her later years she appeared only fleetingly at our flower shows, but with the expert assistance of her gardener, Bill Davey, the vegetables she exhibited were always of a very high quality. Together they won many prizes over the years including the most prestigious award, the RHS Banksian Medal. Miss Branchini was always keen to hear of the progress of the Society and to discuss the relative merits of the many different varieties of fruit and vegetables growing in her garden. Even at the age of 93 she loved to spend time in the garden picking fruit or feeding the birds which were her great interest. We shall miss her wisdom and her enthusiasm for the natural world. John Gunner Terence Richard Hill Kane: 1911 to 25th June 2000 An obituary in the Thursley Parish Magazine, July 2000: Terence Kane was sometimes described as "one of the old fashioned sort", a successful businessman of firm, indeed fixed, views but a man of scrupulous honour whose word could be relied on as his bond. He was born in 1911 and educated at Marlborough but was much more attracted to mechanical engineering. He accordingly left school at sixteen to be apprenticed as a racing mechanic, seeing and working on many of the most interesting cars of his day at Brooklands. This left him with an abiding passion for speed that remained with him for the rest of his life. He was for many years a director of Maranello Concessionaires, the UK Ferrari importers. He subsequently went on to work in the family business, the Kango Hammer Company, which produced the construction hammers so familiar to today's builders. The hammer design was modified to provide a successful counter-measure to acoustic mines thus contributing significantly to saving life at sea during the height of attacks on Atlantic convoys. This was something of which he was justifiably very proud. He rose to be managing director before taking the company (now part of the Atlas Copco Group) public. During the war he served in air defence roles in the Army in Egypt and the Mediterranean, rising to the rank of major. He used to fascinate his small grandson with stories of how "Gra" used to travel in the bomb bay of aeroplanes flying over the Mediterranean. If someone had pulled the wrong lever Gra would have fallen into the sea!". He came to Thursley, living close to the Churt border, after his retirement in the 1980s and spent most of his time quietly with his family. He had an enduring love of nature, refusing to cut back even overgrowing branches or to hurt any animal, however lowly or humble. He was extremely happily married to Lilian. Nearly seven years ago she suffered a major stroke. From that time on many of his energies, in his later eighties, went on ensuring she was immaculately looked after by teams of nurses at home, despite the expense and disruption that this inevitably caused. They were absolutely devoted to each other and his love for her was unconditional. Despite a commanding manner, Terence was basically a shy man. His local activities were largely confined to membership of the Conservative Association and expressing his concerns over the proposals to modify the A3. He will be hugely missed by his family: Lilian, Suzanne, Janice and Philip especially. It is a great comfort to them that he was buried in Thursley Churchyard, surrounded by the fields and country that meant so much to him. Robert Patterson Morgan: 1919 to 15th May 2000 Robert Patterson Morgan & Edna Madeleine Hall A eulogy by Mary Rapley from Thursley parish Magazine July 2000: Robbie, as he was known to all of us, was born in Letham a small village in Fife in Scotland, but will always be thought of as a Thursley man having lived here for 53 years. He joined the 5th Btn. of the Royal Tank Regiment in 1937 and served in France at the beginning of the war. He managed to get away from Brest, landing at Falmouth with only shorts, singlet and no other possessions. A few weeks later he came to Thursley where he met Eddie. In October 1940 his regiment sailed for North Africa where he remained for four and a half years during which time he served with the Long Range Desert Group and saw action at Tobruk and El Alamein. When he was wounded he volunteered for Special Operations but broke his arm "parachute training" from the back of a lorry which saved him from a disastrous mission to Yugoslavia. Robbie returned to this country in 1945 and married Eddie in Thursley church in 1946, eventually settling at Streetfield in 1948. For 26 years he managed Rushmoor Garage at Tilford, retiring in 1984. For many years his hobby was carpentry. He first made himself a lathe, then built a boat and furniture for his home including a lovely set of dining chairs which are still being used. Some 10 years ago Robbie developed cancer and was advised to abandon woodwork so he rekindled his other love of photography. He had been a great walker covering many miles every day with his camera and binoculars. Although in later life he was unable to walk so far he still continued with his photography and reproducing pictures for the History of Thursley Society who will miss his advice and expertise. Eddie and Robbie are two of the founder members of the History Society which is very much indeed indebted to their help and generosity. Robbie had a great sense of humour. We used his dining room some Thursday evenings for Whist Drives which became rather noisy with chatter. Robbie's response from the lounge was, 'It sounds like a poultry farm'. We all had a good laugh. Robbie was very interested in the life of Thursley often attending Parish Council Meetings. Through all his years of ill health, Robbie never complained and always greeted you with a smile. He will be greatly missed by everyone. George Albert Linegar: DoD 7th May 2000 A eulogy by Adrian Linegar from Thursley parish Magazine July 2000: We called you Daddy, Dad, and Father too - depending on the moment, the mood or the time. To others you were George or Gig or Bud or Bo - occasionally old So-and-So. To some you were the carpenter they knew could make or mend any shape or thing that wood might be fashioned into. But these names were only sounds which moved the air between us and you; they served to call you to ourselves in times of laughter or of need. They moved us to you and you to us, but they were not the real You. Yours was the body physical which ushered us through life with measures of both discipline and tenderness. That same body fought its passage across a war-torn continent, witnessed atrocities most of us may only imagine, and yet returned to us scarred mostly by the awfulness of what men's minds can contrive to inflict upon each other. That same body walked with us through all the vicissitudes of life, its triumphs and its disasters, its dark times and its light, and your hands - one artisan, one artist - alternately pulled us from suffering and pushed us to achievement. And that same body, grown old, we nursed in duty and with love, repaying also, as it were, that age-old 'debt' we all owe the world which brought us our breath. But that body was not the real You. Not for one moment shall we confuse the body which lies so still among us with the spirit which so singularly animated it. This was but a vehicle for the character we loved, who has upon call vacated it and gone to regions to which we give sacred names, but do not really know. It is this spirit that will live on in our hearts, like a song which with repetition grows more dear. And every image we evoke of you will yield a hundred more, each clearer than the last. It is this which shall live on for us, and shall never diminish nor grow ill nor old nor die. Your going has left a large gap in our presence which we cannot, and must not, fill with mediocrity. And your collective achievement will remain a benchmark against which our lesser lives must be measured. For all of us, in our different ways, and according to our differing perceptions, you will remain a star shining at the edge of our awareness: where memory and faith and hope intermingle in that mysterious landscape of the half-familiar and the wholly unfathomable. It is there, and also here in the quieter spaces of our daily lives, that the real You will live on for us. And in this way, and in others, we shall never forget you.

Photographs only - courtesy Valérie Ferris (VF) and Andrew Kaplanovsky (AK) Starting in 2016 (VF) Many more entries in 2017 (AK) And more entries in 2018 (VF) 2019 (AK) 2022 (VF)

The process of transferring the non-accessible hard copies of back numbers of the Parish Magazine has begun. It takes time, and will be done in a random fashion depending what comes out first from Nicki Bates's suitcase of magazines that she has donated to Thursley History Society. We are most grateful to her. 2016 Contents include: Pub Update from Jim and Dawn Dickie; Play review: It's a Wonderful Life Contents include: Village Hall update; Thursley Club Christmas lunch report Contents include: Village Hall News; update from the Three Horseshoes; Village Hall Quiz; letter from Tone Badcock Contents include: St Patrick's Dayu evening at The Three Horseshoes; advice of Charity Open Garden at Upper Ridgway Farm Appeal for help for the Queen's 90th Birthday; Thursley Club talk by Richard Bates. Article about traffic management if the tunnel closes by Peter Hunter; announcement of Pet Service at St Michael and All Angels; Rebirth of the Bowlhead Green pond. World war 1 in Thursley and the World, a report on the Thursley History Society's exhibition; photo spread of H M Queen's 90th Birthday Celebrations in the village; Surrey Cow Parade. Churchyard Working Party's work recognised; Defibrillators in the parish; Pet Service; Statement on Brexit by Archbishop Justin Welby & Archbishop John Sentamu . Revd Peter Muir's plans to launch Help in Thursley; Harvest Festival Buffet Lunch held in the Church; report on HM Queen;s 90th birthday celebrations. Report on Thursley Cricket Club v Lashings All Stars including Mike Spencer's two sixes!'; Thursley History Society's AGM announced; Dragonfly Trail launch. Update on Help in Thursley; Request for support for Richard Bates's Lake Taupo Challenge in aid of the Clockhouse; Report on Macmillan Coffee morning raising £2,760. 10 years of Jo Ranson's farming diary; Planting of a tree in the churchyard by the Bishop of Guildford to commemorate the parish winning The Most Eco-friendly Churchyard in the Diocese of Guildford. 2018 Grape Epectations, an article on wine by Angela Muir MOW which became a regular column; Thursley Pancake Race Moldovan Wine Dinner at the Three Horseshoes Help in Thursley Coffee Morning - all welcome! Advice of Annual Parish Assembly with welcome drinks; Mick Chant Obituary. Adventures with Arno (toddler) by Asha Knight; Installation of Defibrilators Lower House Open Garden The Future of the Three Horseshoes - questionnaire; Big Butterfly Count in the churchyard; Rock Cottage and Some Neighbours by Mary Bennett and Arthur Lindley. K9 Fire Patrol; The Silent Soldier Dramatic Crash on Red Lion Garage by Michael O'Brien; The Big Butterlfly Count by Amanda Flint; Thursley Village Neighbourhood in Early 20th Century (Part 2) by Mary Bennett and Arthur Lindley. WW1 Centenary plans announced; The Sharland Grave and the First World War by Miriam Sharland; Thursley Villagers in the Early 20C (Part 3) by Mary Bennett and Arthur Lindley Thursley Common Dog Trail Thursley's Scarecrow Trail; 100th Anniversary of WW1 Armistice.