My Dad!

I saw this photo on Facebook and it made me think of my dad!

My Dad was born the year that the house we live in was built – 1906

He was very much of his generation. He and mum had seen bombs fall over London (Chalk Farm). They’d watched as Doodle-bugs flew over Eastbourne at eye level from the house. They’d had an anti-aircraft shell fly through what would be my bedroom window, through two walls and land unexploded in the toilet.

They knew real austerity. They knew loss. They did not have the luxuries of our modern day. They saw friends go to war and not come back. They were teetotal , clean living, clean speaking and God-fearing.

I remember our first Television,; our first twin tub washing machine. I helped mum “mangle” the clothes. They were very different times.

As a teenager I would argue like made with my dad over social issues. I can’t remember any detail but I know that the world was changing, becoming hip and cool. He was a true Liberal of his day. But he was very conservative. He loved Enoch Powell and all he stood for.

So with hindsight and age I now so understand the sheer shock of the Sixties to my parents! Mods and Rockers fighting on Brighton beach! Drugs, sex and rock’n’roll! What did they make of Woodstock!?

The changes that happened within a very short space of time were very hard to digest and frankly the beginning of the end, with things like the legalisation of abortion, homosexuality and the easing of divorce laws. Co-habitation became acceptable, even the word “bastard” began to change its meaning as illegitimate children stopped being a shame on families.