Daddy

It feels quite weird to be using that title. I have had difficulty with 'Daddy' since I was a teenager, though my sisters, both older than me, have no difficulty of saying Daddy or Mummy.

Doing a bit of amateur analysis, when I was a teenager I was looking (as I suppose we all do) to find out who I was going to be after childhood. I have never been a natural rebel but I have always harboured rebellious thoughts. I wonder whether this rebellious streak explains why I have turned out as the only socialist in a solidly Conservative family, though I prefer to think it is because I have thought deeply about politics. I am probably not the correct person to make that judgment.

Enough about me, this post is about my father, though inevitably with a fair amount of our relationship will be there in places. But it's a bit of a breakthrough for me to use the D word.

Mostly, at least whilst I was around, he was a businessman in the car and motorcycling industry. I will talk more about that under the career heading. But my father was something of a polymath. He was an engineer and inventor. He was a film maker. He was a recognised expert on road safety. He was a dedicated husband and father who strived to provide the best for his family: not just his wife and children, but also his widowed mother, his spinster sister and sister-in-law. He was at bottom a kndly man and didn't skimp on matters material or friendship.

Early Life

His early years are a bit of a mystery to me. He was born in Bradford (I know from his passport) but lived in Birmingham where his father worked at the meat market as a 'superintendent'. When my father was about 4, his father died of a burst appendix and the peritonitis which followed. With his mother and two sisters - one not yet born - they appeared in Liverpool. They had quite a large house but no breadwinner. All I really know is they provided a home in that house for the French Consul in Liverpool. Always referred to as Mr Duress but my guess is he was really M Giresse. They were clearly not really poor, but neither were they prosperous. I get the impression they were scratching a living and certainly the children were in effect servants to their lodger.

After granny moved in to our house, my lovely Auntie Mary lived there for the rest of her life and it was tirned into bedsits.

Inventions

As a child, I believe he made crystal radio sets. Not an invention but a skill emerging. I believe he also made box cameras

Our home when I was a child was a sizeable house, and half-located in an underground pit was an ancient gas boiler that served the household. On the ground floor of the room known as the boiler house was his tool room.

I cannot like some to be claim the son of a toolmaker but the boiler house contained a plethora of tools, including a Myford Lathe.

At the prosaic end of his skills he would use this to make a poker for our coal fire - practical, elegant and easy to use - but he also would create more esoteric items from nuts, bolt and screws to a unique specification but also more elaborate items for specific uses (like a cine camera holder for the car) or parts for his more elaborate inventions.

Probably his most innovative invention was a driving training simulator. You sat in front of something which looked a bit like a large cooker. Inside was a 'rolling road' a big metal drum with a painted road on it and a Dinky car suspended on a rod linked to the steering wheel. You could see a pretend gearbox and clutch spinning away. You had the three pedals, the gear lever and the steering wheel you would have in a real car. Here is an early one.

Feels a bit like a council picture with a rent-a-crowd bunch of scousers (very male, I note) gathering around one sucker who is trying the simulator. My father was very proud of one thing in particular: he believed it did an unrivalled realistic simulation of using a clutch, at the time what learners found the most difficult control to master.

I'm not sure if these were all knocked up in the boiler room, in the garage at home, or in the real garage in Liverpool. I suspect the latter, because he did make a few of these and sold them, including I think some shipped overseas. A bit more than a hobby, but the hobbyist in him probably inspired all this.

Career

During the war - about 30 at the start of it - he was in the RAF. I think he was a Sergeant but I know very little about what he actually did. He was at a base at Cosford and/or Prees Heath in the midlands and I believe he had a role with propellors, presumably building on his expertise as a mechanic. I am researching his story with National Archives.

My father was mainly - certainly in my time I was close to him - a businessman. He had bought a motorcycle dealership in Liverpool from its founder Victor Horsman, a prominent motorbike racer and engineer. At some point before I came on the scene it had expanded to include a car dealer but whether that was started by Horsman or my father I know not. How he came, from a modest childhood, to buy a business I don't know either. I do know that he was paying out to Horsman throughout his life and perhaps after, because my father died in 1971 and Horsman died 9 years later, with my mother having become the titular head of the company.

His company had expanded to include a site in Queensferry Flintshire, one in Birkenhead and briefly one in St Helens as well as 2 or 3 places in Liverpool. This business provided his children with a very privileged childhood, but as I discovered shortly before he died, he had not been supremely successful and I wonder if anxiety about financial matters contributed to him dying at the cruelly young age of 61.

Sporting Life

Well before my time, he was a rugby player. He was an imposing figure for the 1930s, being 6 foot 4 tall - really exceptional then - and with a massive frame. I remember marvelling about the size of his wrists. They were much bigger than mine are and I am pretty sizeable myself. After rugby, or perhaps simultaneously, he became an amateur motor cycle racer

There he is looking enviously (I imagine) at the Norton works driver Jimmy Guthrie. Poor Jimmy died in a crash at Nurburgring and one of my father's boasts was that, although he had many spills, he had never broken any of those exceptional bones or been seriously injured. Later he had this Vincent-HRD from the legendary manufacturer which became simple Vincent and is remembered in the song by Richard Thompson - one of my favourite guitarists and songwriters - a little connection in my life after my father's death https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MOCZwKmjR6E

I'm not sure what made him give up racing bikes (I can guess it is to being married in 1940 and a dad from 1943) but he found new pastimes.

Here he is in a trials car, apparently a passenger. I have no idea what it is or where or precisely when, but the 1950s. I'm told it is a Ford Model Y special by someone who knows about these things!

He was also into rallying. He won a cup (for safety and comfort prizes) in the Monte Carlo Rally. This one I think is 1956.

He is also in this picture with the formidable Liverpool Labour MP (not his normal taste in politics) having what I suppose was a photo-op in her constituency (where his business was based)

I guess this must have been later in 1956 because in the picture is the MG Magnette that he competed in the 1957 'Monte' in January. He was nearly killed when his co-driver, my uncle Norman, collided with a coal lorry in Clermont Ferrand on the way to Monte. My father was severely injured and spent several weeks in the local hospital. I was of course oblivious, being a mere 4 at the time.

He and Uncle Norman collected an impressive selection of trophies. one or two I have inherited.

I think his sporting ambitions stopped there. Certainly, his company carried on with the Monte and won more awards in 1959, but by now it was an employee doing the driving.

Road safety and films

My father had already been engaging with matters related to road safety since I believe the 1930s. He told me once of a protest he supported about pedestrian crossings. This was before zebras were stretched across the road but after Belisha beacons had appeared. I have tried to research what the fuss was about but I've drawn a blank. From what I remember, the road lobby (of which I suppose he was a supporter) were upset by badly drafted regulations which apparently meant if you saw someone hanging about near a crossing, and that person then without warning set our across the road, the driver would automatically held to be of blame. I believe this led to a change in regulations which meant that this meant the duty of the driver only began when someone put their foot on the road. Certainly I was trained that was the rule when I was a young ruffian.

The other stuff in the 1934 Road Traffic Act included the introduction of the driving test, speed limits and a suggestion driving when drunk was an offence. He supported all that, especially the law against drunk driving. He told me a story about a driver running someone over whilst clearly under the influence. The woman who gave evidence against him was trapped by a clever lawyer. She had been told to not mention 'drunk' but said he was driving erratically and clearly impaired. Eventually she broke, and said 'he was drunk'. Apparently that destroyed the case, because it was just her opinion. This problem was not overcome until Barbara Castle introduced the breathalyzer in 1968. I see that she was challenged by a BBC journalist on The World This Weekend, who described the policy as a 'rotten idea' and asked her : "You're only a woman , you don't drive, what do you know about it" and asked her : "You're only a woman , you don't drive, what do you know about it?" I expect Donald Trump and Robert Jenrick would agree about this outbreak of Woke.

The breathalyzer has survived but I doubt the BBC would say the same now. I do remember the parrot which lived in my local pub didn't have a big vocabulary, but often observed often " Barbara Castle, Barbara Castle: F*** Off" a widely shared view amongst pub goers at the time.

Whilst I was growing up, my father became a road safety pundit and I remember the excitement when once or twice he was featured on TV - I think 'Look North' or some such programme. But he was writing booklets - Car Driving Made Easy, which I think was self-published in 1952, then Motor-Cycling Made Easy, published by Pitman (the inventor of sharthand) in 1954.

But then he bought himself a Bolex 16mm film camera (actually several of them) joined a camera club and taught himself to be a film maker.

He put his films out there, and engaged with safety people like RoSPA. His films started to be recognised, starting with Rode Safely - a motorbike film, in 1955 was nominated for the 'amateur oscars' and it was one of the 10 best amateur films of 1955 https://www.pathefilm.uk/amateurfilm/tenbest1955.htm

He was back for another in 1956 with Watch out for Children https://www.pathefilm.uk/amateurfilm/tenbest1956.htm

I think the third one was in 1962. I can't find the announcement but I have found a YouTube

https://bit.ly/4azAHxO There were 5 bits of this if I remember and the thing together was called Steering Clear, also the title of his first book.

I think his first publisher went bust so that book was published with his second book in 1965. I think he was exaggerating my involvement but I did help him by pushing Matchbox toys around on the Table tennis table, where the stop motion illustrations were photographed (that was definitely in the garage at home).

Near the start of the film there is a picture of his other great project, which was creating a 'Safety Course' in the Dingle in Liverpool. This was a site which he furnished with roads, junctions, pedestrian crossings and a thing that shot out a ball with some cloth attached to create an emergency stop.

When I was 9 I was commissioned to do a publicity stunt for his driving school and for Triumph Motorcycles who had introduced a scooter with automatic gearbox called the Triumph Tina (and which bombed spectacularly). I was supposed (being little and slim) able to get better mpg out of this beast than the fat old driving instructor. One of the things I failed at and disappointed my father.

His other great contribution to road safety, was that he formed a 'better driving' association called that Car And Motorcycle Drivers Association aka CAMDA

As far as I know he was not a Latin expert (nor is his son) but apparently Majorem Dexteritatem Aspiramus means "we aspire to greater dexterity". Quite a good description of what CAMDA (now defunct) was about. His vision was to provide a way to more skilled driving via a different route than the established Institute of Advanced Motoring (recently of Chiswick), about which he was rather scathing. He didn't believe in people taking tests which allowed drivers to put up a badge suggesting they were good drivers. He wanted people to think about their driving and study and practice good driving to bring it to bear on how they drove.

My main memories of CAMDA were the annual event that took place at our local racing track, Oulton Park. A taste of heaven for me, because as a teenager I got to drive round parts of the circuit with either my father or another expert. People came from all around the country and a few I think from overseas. There were reginal chapters who published their own updates and I think competed in the annual jamboree. Certainly individual members did and there were a collection of driving tests set out. Some were against the clock, some were more about precision. There was a speciality for catering for disabled drivers and I remember people with extensive disabilities including missing limbs competing enthusiastically. My guess is that this kind of acyivity was hard to find for disable drivers in the 50s and 60s

The test I remember was called 'show driving'. I remember because I actually competed in that. It involved a car with a bowl attached to the bonnet with a tennis ball in it. We had to drive round a test course and do things like stopping in the right place in a 'garage' made of plastic bollards, going through a slalom and so on, without the tennis ball falling out, against the clock. I think I did OK for a teenager but others were a lot better (he admits through clenched teeth).

We were very proud of him. He was quite a humble man but he deserved his children being proud of him because he was genuinely exceptional. Probably not much of a politician (that runs in the family) because a person who concentrated more determinedly on developing contacts and image would likely hah had a more prominent legacy.

Personal

I was his only son, and there was a large piece of him that I think wanted me to emulate what he achieved and add the things he did not. He invested his energy in trying to make that happen, but I was a disappointment to him.

He had been a Boy Scout - probably with all the badges. He certainly was an expert on knots and had a lot of the sort of skills I imagine Scouts develop. He regretted that I was never a Scout but he gave me no chance to do that because I was always packed off to boarding school. I learned lots of things, but not scouting. But in a mild way he saw that as a failing of mine.

He was an inventor and a very capable artisan. He made metal things on his lathe; he made wardrobes and cupboards out of wood. He made a string of fairy lights at a time when you couldn't get them in the shops; he used flex from his workshop, normal light bulbs he painted different colours, plugged them in in the house and ran them across the front of our house. He laid a patio at the bottom of our garden to be a 'sun trap'. I was not much good at any of those things though I tried. But I was always found wanting and tried his patience.

He was a caring father, in a rather reserved manner that was then the way, I think, of fathers of his generation. He was a very busy man but he was usually with us for breakfast and nearly always for dinner, though often ringing in to warn he would be late.

Terrible picture. My younger sister is missing and the horse is not a relation. I didn't ride for long!

He gave us, and always came with us, on quite lavish holidays. In later years he rented an apertment on the Cote d'Azur in France for a month and we trundled down there in a Ford Zodiac (3 in the front, 3 in the back, picnic stuff on a roof rack). Later in a Vauxhall Cresta with speedboat on a trailer behind. The boat was full of stuff, because this was the era when you could only take £25 per person abroad and the boat contained Fray Bentos tinned pies, Cadbury's Marvel powder milk and if I remember correctly tins of butter. Try and get that in Sainsbury's.

We swam and went to the local Karting track and I learned to water ski. It was a wonderful childhood really.

He and my mother were very close (at least when he was at home). A glass of Tio Pepe sherry for each of them before dinner and they usually played a game of Scrabble most nights afterwards. Of course we always watched Coronation Street and Sunday Night at the Palladium. If they ever argued they did not do it ever in front of the children. We children were also not allowed to squabble (but we did when they weren't watching). My mother gave up smokling her Craven A cork tipped cigarettes but under stress (I think probably menopause but we never discussed such matters) she started again. My father had given up his Senior Service earlier, but he started again to keep her company.

Life at home was pretty wonderful I suppose, though it got more stretched for me when I turned 16, got a motorbike and started hanging out with my friends and often drinking and smoking, Nevertheless, I was able to get my dream job after A-levels at 17. I was taken on by the Ford Motor Company as an undergraduate trainee. He was so proud of me then, getting into a university (well it was really a Polytechnic but none of us knew the difference) which was entirely new for our parents' families. Of course I continued to disappoint him,

He then went and died, suddenly, when he was 61 and I was 18. I can hardly blame him for that. He left a business which was able to sustain my mother for the rest of her life, and his children were all set up for their own lifes.

I was called out of a lecture at Polytechnic, and told there was an urgent call for me. I went down to the secretaries and took the call. It was my brother in law. He told me the news about my father and called me to come home. My father had gone to bed the night before and never woke up, with his devoted wife discovering him 'sleeping' next to her. Quite horrific and it was probably much better for me being 200 miles away. My mother was devastated, He had been her life since she had married him when she was 22, 30 years before.

I could not really mourn him at the time. Partly I suppose because I was at the time rather stiff upper lip Englishman, but also despite that I knew he really loved me, our relationship had been strained by my being a disappointment.

I salute you now, daddy. You were truly an outstanding man and a wonderful father. It is a great disappointment that I never had the chance to get to know you as an adult. It might have helped me a lot in my life and now, 54 years later, I am missing you.

I have only poor pictures of daddy. I think he was quite young when that was taken. Given the amount of snow I suspect it mighteven be 1946/7 before I was born, and when he would have been 39.