|
The following is an account of James Blundell's life -
from 1908 until 2003. It is based on the speach that I
wrote to be read out at dad's funeral on 20th January 2003.
Dad had had a stroke on the 3rd January and died on the
10th following contracting pneumonia. My mother and I were
at his side, which I shall be ever grateful for.
I was always proud to have him as a father and I shall
miss him more than words can say. It was a priviledge to
have known him, let alone be his son, he was the epitome
of what you would describe as a good man and he will be
missed by all who knew and loved him.
Jim was born in 1908 at number 6 Ralph’s Wifes Lane.
His grandfather kept the post office – now number
2 Ralph’s Wifes Lane. As a little toddler Jim used
to visit his grandparents and from all accounts he could
be a naughty little boy. On these occasions he was sent
home but he couldn’t resist giving the door a kick
as he was leaving – and then run home.
He went to St Stephens school leaving at 13 he became
an apprentice joiner at P Copp. At this time his mother
died, his father eventually remarried. Jim was a very good
stepson and looked after her in her declining years, long
after his father had died.
Jim was a keen motorcyclist, he enjoyed sandracing and
the TT on the Isle of Man, and we believe he was also a
fast rider on the roads round here too. He loved his cars
in his younger days and also drove HGVs, his only driving
licence - despite driving a car until he was 89!
He went to work for the family business, where they kept
pigs and went into the poultry business. He was well known
round the area where he went to buy pigs and poultry. He
was a hard worker, putting in many hours work running the
business throughout the war until 1958 until he had a very
serious car incident leaving him on a coma for over a fortnight,
which he remembered nothing of. The poultry business was
eventually taken over by John Spino who had started working
from him as a prisoner of war, who returned after the war
to work for him. John Rimmer, who also worked for him,
eventually took over the pig business.
He retired after the accident, looking after his step-mother.
In 1966 he built the bungalow on Vicarage Lane on the site
of the orchard behind the house his grandparents had run
as the Post Office. He married Lilian and lived in the
bungalow for the rest of his life, only a few yards from
where he was born. In 1971, at the age of 62, he became
a father to James.
He was a wonderful husband, always kind and thoughtful,
and was a wonderful father, always caring and gentle. He
was also a great son-in-law - always ready to give a hand.
He could be very stubborn, which is apparently a Blundell
trait - still shared by Dylan, his grandson, to this day.
My earliest memories of Dad are of driving back with him
from play-group at Hesketh Bank where Jim would play “Who
can see the church steeple (St Stephen’s ) first?” as
they drove along Shore Road– Dad would always let
me win. I also remember him drawing for mefrom an animal
book so I could colour in the picture, taking time, which
many dad’s of that age would not. He might not have
been of an age where men would change nappies, but he still
got involved and was as active as his age would allow.
|
Even in his seventies Jim
was able to ride a penny farthing - having a go when someone
rode one up Church Road one day – Jim got an and
his family can remember him riding up and down a few times
before finally saying – “How do I get down?”
He was always helpful to me, in a practical way – helping
me build shelves and repair houses in my student days in
York – even thought he was in his eighties at this
time he was still more than keen to get a hammer and saw
out. Indeed his enthusiasm for the toolbox was well known
in the family, on several holidays, where hotel rooms suffered
from creaky or loose doors, Jim would call down for a screwdriver
and oil can to fix the problem. He was not a man to sit
back if something didn’t work.
He was not well during his last six or seven years but
never complained, beyond being frustrated with not being
able to walk very far. He was one of the oldest residents
in the village and had seen many of his contemporaries
pass away – he was able to go to St Stephens school
a few years ago as one of their oldest ex pupils. Banks
was very much part of him, apart from living on Preston
New Road for 20 years in the house he bought for his step
mother, where he met Lilian.
Despite this, when he first met Carleen, my wife, he was
able to run out of the house to greet her. Despite Jim
being ill shortly before our wedding, we were very proud
to be able to share their day with him, he looked so smart,
as he always did. He loved Carleen greatly and was a proud
father in law, and wonderful grandpa to Dylan. One of my
proudest days was when I was able to phone dad – who
was the first person we broke the news to – to tell
him that he would be a grandparent at the age of 93. It
was a small way to pay him back for all the kindness Jim
had shown during his life.
Jim came down to Harrogate to see Dylan when he was born
and was able to get to the hospital ward to hold Dylan
when he was only a day old. Jim’s face always lit
up when he saw him and he loved making him laugh by pulling
funny faces and making silly noises, even the day after
his last stroke. Through all his illness, Lilian looked
after him – and he was always glad that she was able
to do this for him rather than strangers. In the last two
and a half years he gradually needed more care – and
remained cheerful, despite a lot of pain following surgery
a couple of years before his death.
During his life – from 1908 until 2003 he has seen
so much change – cars, planes, two world wars, so
many changes in the way we live. He remained mystified
with what I did with computers, always asking “What
does it do, lad?” He was never going to be a silver
surfer on the web!
He will be sadly missed. It was a pleasure and a privilege
to have known him and an honour to have had him as a father.
He’s been a good and generous man to his family and
to others and we know he would be proud to know that Dylan
and Harvey (who he never saw) will be carrying on the Blundell
name into this century. |