1959 My Marriage

The date, April 4th. The place, the Registry Office in the Town Hall, Norwich, Norfolk, England.

Given the hype of weddings today (and then I suppose), it really was a quiet affair.

The story leading up to the marriage deserves a telling all of its own, but for now I'll stick to the day.

This entry is prompted by the fact that in seventeen days it will be my/our 50th wedding anniversary. Given that we've been separated now for twelve years, I suppose that the anniversary is an empty thing. But the day will no doubt contain a few thoughts about its 'should-have-been' significance. April 4th is a special day anyway because it's also the date we emmigrated so it is unforgettable.

Back to 'the day'. Showing remarkable and atypical sharpthinking we'd opted for the date partly because the British Income Tax system had an anual cut off date and by marrying before that date we won back some urgently needed money from the tax man.

The other reason was that my mother had finally given her consent to her under-age son's marriage.

The bride wore a dress donated by her landlady. The groom: the best he could manage from his very limited wardrobe, probably blazer, slacks and tie.

I remember the ceremony hardly at all.

The wedding photos were a disaster. And air force buddy, a red haired Welsh lad whose name I remember not, had professed great skill and ownership of a superb camera. Only two shots came out (in black and white of course)! One of the happy couple emerging from the registry office and the other of a post-ceremony kiss. The latter I still have and it's featured here.

Attending the wedding, apart from us two, were Glennys' father Herbert Ralph Ward-Eversley and maybe four of my fellow airmen from nearby R.A.F. Horsham St. Faith where I was based.

After the wedding we all repaired to a nearby pub, "The Raven", for lunch, courtesy my new father-in-law.

After that? The airmen went off back to base and the newlyweds went to their newly rented flat with dad-in-law. In due course he headed back to Coventry and we had our honeymoon at the aforementioned 4b Quebec Road. It was Saturday so the honeymoon was half of Saturday and all of Sunday before I headed back to Air Force duties.

A modest start wasn't it?

In answer to that most frequently asked question? No, the bride wasn't with child. Mitchell, thank goodness, arrived thirteen months later.

1939 - 2009 March 13th: "Three Score Years and Ten"


Amazing, I've managed seventy years. The biblical designated span.

The past? Much seen - a world war, the blossoming of air travel, men on the moon, plastics, computers.

And yet, we're still cruel, stupid, little animals. That has changed little in seventy years! Killing each other still and, it seems, the planet.

I've fathered two sons, grandfathered four grandchildren - all six delight me.

The future? Uncertain of course ... they say that the uncertainty is part of the magic.

Regrets, sadness, guilt - yes - but who hasn't.

Is the world a better place for my being here? No, not really - but it's no worse!

Best of all? My sweet Lady Vivian. Can any man have been luckier?

198? T.E.N.S. in the Rain .........................................................



Electrifying it was.


A chronic sufferer from assorted back pains am I. Brought about perhaps by to much shifting of too much stuff that was too heavy. No matter.


My former maiden had been prescribed a TENS machine by her doctor. She'd had back pains too. TENS? "TiddlyElectronicNeuroStimulus" or something like that.


Anyway, her back was OK at the time described but mine was giving me a hard time. So I was wearing it.


Just clipped on my belt, with a couple of electrodes stuck on my back where I thought they'd do the most good. Crank it up to a healthy tingle and off you go. If it feels good, go for it.


I was at work on dayshift. Rain was pouring down. Said device was doing its thing - tingling nicely. I was walking about, pretty well soaked. I heard "Maintenance from Control!" on the radio in my parka pocket.


I took the radio out and thumbed the switch ............................... @#@$%?**$#!


Radio with healthy big battery.... TENS machine squirting impulses into my lower back ... wet hand .... away I went!.


Felt like I'd been hooked up to a wall socket. I started with a goodly imitation, I suppose, of Saint Vitus' Dance. All focussed in the kiney area.


Amazing! Indescribable! Definitely not an experiment to repeat. Sometime - doubtless mere seconds later, my thumb came off the radio's switch and my writhing stopped.

198? The Night The Planes Blew Away ........................................


You often hear the phrase, "If I'd not seen it with my own eyes ......."

Well, it was a dark and stormy night (another oft heard phrase). Late in the afternoon shift, maybe ten or eleven o'clock. We, the aircraft maintenance folk, were in the hangar when a call came from the 'ramp'. It said something to the effect of, "You'd better get down here, we have a problem."

It was dark of course and very high winds were blowing. Added to that we were in the middle of a freezing rain storm. The taxiway to the ramp and the ramp itself were a sheet of glare ice. Almost impossible to drive on; a wild night indeed.

When we'd finally made our slithery way to the ramp the sight was hard to believe. The wind had blown two 20+ ton DC-9s off their gates and slid them perhaps two hundred yards (or metres!) to the ramp's edge.

20 ton aircraft, with their brakes on; blown clear across the ramp - just wind and ice.

There was little we could do apart from chock their wheels and wait for the wind to die down.

Amazingly they'd hit nothing nor each other. The snow banks which had finally stopped their slide weren't high enough to have done any damge either.

Later, tow bars were attached, urea spread on the ice and the planes were towed back onto their gates; no worse for their adventure.

Mother nature must think us little humans rather funny at times.

(the picture - an Air Canada DC-9 at J.F.K. airport, New York. That's a big puck!)