This week's Sepia Saturday prompt photograph on the theme of work features a man working at his desk with a piles of paperwork at his side. Immediately I saw this prompt, I knew which photograph I would feature as a tribute to my father John Weston. He began his working life as a 14 year old delivery boy and retired as sales director of a small drinks company in Scotland - very much a self made man.
Cue for images of my father and myself at our respective desks - or work stations - to use more up to date parlance!
Dad's Bureau - A Wedding Present for Life
This week's prompt immediately brought back memories of my father,
sitting at his bureau - a wedding present from my mother in 1938. It
remained with them through all their many house moves and became an important part of the furniture. This is not a great quality photograph (taken off a slide) but it is the only one I have of Dad at his bureau, c.196
Dad - John P. Weston (1912-2003) was born in Bilston, Staffordshire,
in the heart of the industrial Midlands, the third child of Albert Ernert Weston and
Mary Barbara Matthews. The family later moved to Broseley, Shropshire, across the river from the famous Ironbridge, known as the seat of Britain's Industrial Revolution.
Dad left school at the age of 14. He wrote in his memoir:
This was a surprising memory as Dad
never gave any indication later in life of having the slightest interest or
affinity with horses! Kelly'
Directory of Broseley for 1926 listed the shop at 84 High Street where
Dad worked until the family left the town in 1929.
"I went to work at
the grocers, where still at school I had been an errand boy and also worked on
Saturdays with time off for soccer. The
main assistant was 19 and one morning as I passed the shop, he asked me if I would help him move some bags
of corn, I did and he gave me a bag of biscuits, so that was my introduction. I then went out with him delivering orders
(we sold bags of corn 80 plus pounds).
The pony, a Welsh cob named Tommy, was inclined to be lazy. After time, I did the deliveries with Tommy and the
trap. At night time I rode him bareback
to a field!
A page from Dad's typing of his early life.
Like
many of his generation, Dad continued his education in a "self taught"
manner. He also had an interest in journalism and it was a familiar
sight to see
him seated at the small typewriter on his bureau. He was either ploughing through the
paperwork of his job (now a commercial traveller) or keeping in touch with his widowed mother, sister and brothers
by letter.
Wherever we lived, Dad threw himself into the local community - he was a
people person, a "joiner" and an organizer of fetes and festivities in
the church and village - so out came the typewriter again for "to do" lists and press releases.
In later life Dad was a regular contributor of letters
to local newspapers - my mother was not too happy about this, as he
could get, in return, political brickbats from people of divergent
views. He also prepared talks on a variety of topics to present to local societies and I have the originals of his typed scripts
Dad often talked not only about his boyhood and also of his war-time experiences and I am afraid it did
provoke the reaction “Not the war again,
Dad”. We also used to
joke about him being in the Intelligence Branch. It was only later that we came to realise
what a life-defining period it was and I persuaded him to write (type) his memoirs.
A memory of entering France shortly after D Day in 1944.
"On the Monday morning we zig-zagged
our way across the Channel (to avoid enemy submarines) and arrived off the
beach at around 11pm, some distance off our landing point. Sporadic bombing went on during the night from high
level German bombers. We slept where we could on the craft. Just as dawn was breaking, at 04.00am the captain started up the engines
(there was quite a roar) and we moved in
fast to the beach. The ramp was
dropped, we drove off - and we were in France!"
A letter to my mother dated 10th September [1944]
Dad - dated on the reverse of the photo - Paris - Sept. 12th 1944
I am so pleased I have these now, as they, with the correspondence
between my parents (discovered after their deaths), formed the basis of
two narratives I have written based on Dad's memories.
My parents - a photograph taken 1965 on the day of my graduation from university. I was the first member of the family to go to university, followed later by my brother - and they were so proud of us.
Like father - like daughter
Growing
up I was always told I was like my mother, but much later I came to
realise how much my working life reflected my father's interests. I worked for 22 years in the Scottish Borders network of tourist information centres - first in front line positions helping visitors get the most of holidaying in the region, and later as visitor services manager for the Scottish Borders Tourist Board.
Surrounded by paper work at Jedburgh Tourist Information Centre, a large purpose built building acting as a Gateway Centre for Scotland, as we were only 14 miles north of the English border. I loved the job!
A move to Head Office, where I did miss the contact with visitors and dealing with enquiries - I do not like to be beaten! But I benefited from an excellent staff training programme. And what was I doing? Writing mini guides for visitors on the local towns, writing press releasers delivering presentations and training courses - and handling loads of paperwork!
My final work position was with the Scottish Borders Archive, Family History and Local History Service where I was doing much the same -- presenting workshops on family history, writing information sheets on resources. It was there I was introduced to the world of blogging - and have never looked back since. My father would have loved blogging!
Like my father I enjoy playing a part in my local community and I am still using all my work experience in my activities in retirement.
So for Dad and I, the world of work suited us very well!
***************
Sepia Saturday gives an opportunity for genealogy bloggers to share their family history and memories through photograph
Click HERE to see other bloggers at work
Reading the career path of your father the similarities with my grandfather struck me. Starting to work at a very young age in a delivery boy-type job, working on Saturdays and ending their careers in managerial positions. But conceivably in those days, many people started this way. The university was way beyond their horizon.
ReplyDeleteAnd what a treasure you have with all those memoirs of your father. Invaluable!
And I was wondering where your father wrote that letter back in September 1944. I am asking because the southern part of The Netherlands was liberated during that month. Was he there?
I enjoyed reading your post!
From Scotsue - re your query, Peter, on September dates - from Paris, my father was in Luxembourg - I have photographs of his time there where he became friendly with a local family. He was at the winter Battle of the Bulge before driving a tank into Germany. He was in Frankfurt for VE Day.
DeleteIt seems you did, very much, follow in your father's footsteps with the love of writing & history. I'm glad you went that route or you and I would never have met and I would never have known about Sepia Saturday which I love being a part of. :)
ReplyDeleteThis was a wonderful tribute to read. Even though we've met your dad in your previous stories, it's always interesting to get a new perspective inspired by Alan's theme. Looking at his manuscript I can hear the rhythmic taping sound of a typewriter, the margin bell followed by the ratchety carriage return, and sometimes an occasional snarl when he had to backspace and correct a letter. I have several handwritten journals my dad made late in his life. I sometimes think my blogging was inspired by his story telling and letter writing.
ReplyDeleteFrom Scotsue - Thank you all for your kind and thoughtful comments
ReplyDelete