Welcome to the Dunkerley-Tuson Family Website!

Did he go to the Rover Moot in Sweden? Did he play in the match? Did he represent ‘the British Empire?' In fact we don’t know, but he kept the newspaper cutting so perhaps that is evidence that he did. We do know that St. Johns sent a delegation to the Stockholm meeting in 1935, for a report by no less an authority than Leslie himself tells us so in the St. John’s Centenary celebration booklet, published in 1937.

Leslie kept other press cuttings of his ‘rugger’ days. One is of a ‘Rovers’ Inter-City Match’, probably in 1930. Manchester Rovers beat Liverpool Rovers by the slimmest of margins, 6 points to 5. The match took place at Fallowfield and J. L. Dunkerley was the Manchester captain:

"Manchester held the advantage at forward – H. Woodhead and F. Tompkins in particular being prominent – but the Liverpool defence was very keen and the work of their three-quarters interesting to watch.

It was nearly half-time before F. J. Coutts went across for Liverpool near the corner flag. The same player converted.

After the interval Manchester attacked and E. Womack went over in a favourable position but H. Ramsey failed to convert. Shortly before the finish one of the Liverpool players claimed a try, but the referee disallowed it.

Then Manchester relieved the pressure, and J. L. Dunkerley went through the opposition with a brilliant swerving run from the halfway line."

Leslie loved his rugby and had many tales to tell. In one game his side got thrashed many points to nil, yet he took pride in the fact that the only player from the opponent’s team not to score was the one he was marking. Being slight but fast he had to be a ferocious tackler. He quoted the rhyme:

  Low, low, go for him low,
  Whether he’s fast or whether he’s slow,
  If you go high, he’ll hand you off so…
  Why don’t you go for him low?

  He also used to point out that "they can’t run without their legs!"

On another occasion Leslie received a pass in open space and as he set off for the opposing try-line immediately became aware of two large opposing forwards bearing down on him from either side, with looks of murderous intent on their faces. At the last moment he ‘slammed on his brakes’, to such good effect that the two men met head-on in front of him. One of them knocked himself out, the other bit through his lip. Both went off and Leslie’s team won the game!

Bits of rugby vernacular stayed with Leslie in later life. I was always slightly puzzled when he described anything that was excellent, for example his wife, as "The best wife in the Northern Union". I knew it had something to do with rugby, but discovered only recently that the Northern Union was a group of rugby union football clubs, of which it appears Oldham was an early member, that adopted new rules allowing players to receive payments and eventually became the modern Rugby League. Headingley might also have been in ‘the Northern Union’ for it seems that the Leeds Rhinos practice ground is the old Headingley ground where Leslie used to play.

Another bit of rugby-speak that lingered was ‘to sell a dummy’. This was considered a good tactic in many situations in life, likely to produce the desired result. It had nothing to do with comforting babies! Yet again there was the concept of 'going round the blind side', meaning to do that which was not obvious to gain a (fair) advantage.

Rugby was a mucky sport. When playing for the Rovers Leslie had the pleasure of playing with younger brother Clare. My cousin Jean tells how the two of them used to return home with filthy rugby kit and be ordered by their mother to leave it all in a bucket at the back door!

Other rugby colleagues at the Rovers were Eric Brereton and F. ‘Oscar’ Wolstenholme. Eric told me that Leslie’s rugby nickname was ‘Dirty Dunkerley’, not for the way he played, of course, but due to the fact that he tackled a lot and always finished up with mucky kit, and also because it was a nice alliteration. Besides, it played well with the visiting team.

Oscar, fabled maker of the St. John’s scout trek cart, was a tall rangy man who was the Rovers goal kicker. The trouble was he was short sighted and couldn’t see the goal posts! However, in those days one player used to lie on the ground with a finger on top of the upended ball to support it ready for the kick. When Oscar was kicking, this player had an additional vital role, for the big man used to ask "Am ah in line wi’ th’ props?" The ball holder’s job was to bring him round a bit this way or that and once thus aligned Oscar would waft the ball goalwards with, if we are to believe the legend, an accuracy akin to that of the modern Jonny Wilkinson! It always went over!

Being so slight, over a seventeen-year period Leslie inevitably suffered some injuries. He accepted these with good grace and in later life wrote to me in a letter: "To think I won gold medals (championships!) playing cricket for St. John’s Sunday School (at which I was no good, but enjoyed muchly) and got nowt from Rugger, only a broken collar bone and concussion 3 times!" It was perhaps a blow received in rugby that led to a detached retina and effectively to the loss of the sight in one eye in about 1966.

For Leslie, rugby was a passion; it was the game that represented life ("There’s a breathless hush in the close tonight?"), it was played to win, but in the old sporting spirit where, if you did not win you congratulated the other team on their victory, with genuine pleasure at their achievement. At least that was how Leslie played it. Years later, at the age of 89, Leslie still looked back fondly on his 17 years of rugby. The nurses in Stamford hospital got to hear about it. Several times!

Continuing education and employment

When he reached the age of fourteen in 1921 Leslie’s school days were over and he had to find a job. This was just when the speculative bubble that had appeared in the cotton industry after the First World War was bursting and the prospect of unemployment was staring everyone in the face (read about the experience of his father, Billy Dunkerley, and the history of the Regent Mill. Read also the poem 'Owdham Wakes'). We don’t know if Leslie had ever imagined himself going into the cotton industry, as had practically every member of his family for several generations, perhaps to work alongside his father in the Regent Mill. However, he did not go into it. In fact he became a white-collar worker by obtaining a position as ‘office boy’ at Andrew Knowles and Sons Ltd., who owned four collieries at Agecroft, in the valley of the River Irwell at Pendlebury. It is not clear where Leslie actually worked but among the duties he performed was that of going round to collect payment from householders for the coal that had been delivered. On one occasion Leslie had to collect from a customer who lived alongside a foul-smelling gas works. As he stood in the doorway receiving payment Leslie gasped to the man "How can you stand this awful smell?" "What smell?" the man replied!

Although Leslie’s day-school days were over, his education was not and he continued studying at night school and by correspondence courses. For three years he studied the usual commercial subjects of Pitman’s shorthand, book-keeping and typing at Mather Street in Failsworth, and then continued for a further three years at the High School of Commerce in Whitworth Street, and in the Danleigh Buildings in Spring Gardens, both in Manchester. He clearly did well, eventually passing independent examinations of the Lancashire and Cheshire Institute. Subsequently he did additional studying by correspondence course. As a boy I remember finding framed certificates in an old suitcase under my bed informing me that James Leslie Dunkerley had passed his exams in the aforementioned three subjects. Even as a child I remember being struck by the fact that the marks achieved were very high. At least one was, I believe, 100%, another 97%. Sadly, the certificates no longer survive but I suppose the fact that they were framed meant that someone was proud of the achivements they represented.

Leslie’s efforts led to some advancement at work for he was promoted to Assistant Bookkeeper, his boss being a somewhat lazy person who was happy to take advantage of a keen and competent young helper. Leslie told me he was aware that he was being ‘put on’, but enjoyed the work and the experience that he was gaining. He left the company soon after completing his studies when about twenty years old.

Unemployment in the cotton and associated industries was still increasing when, in 1929, Leslie decided he wanted a different job and answered an advertisement in the Manchester Guardian for a sales position in the Manchester area. The company was J. E. Ellis Ltd., Wholesale and Manufacturing Chemists and High Grade Perfumers and Cosmeticians of Horsforth, near Headingley, Leeds. One of its most famous products was the ‘Daisy Headache Powder’, which Leslie seemed surprised to learn, many years later, I’d never heard of! The interviewer was the company secretary who quickly realized Leslie had more to offer than selling and invited him to move to Leeds as his personal assistant. Leslie accepted the post and made the adventurous move to Headingley where he continued to be 'put on'. At Ellis’s he was in charge of the Accounts Department and, according to a leaving reference given to him by the Managing Director, the eponymous J. E. Ellis, he had ‘proved himself thoroughly reliable and trustworthy’. They were ‘sorry to lose him’ and could ‘confidently recommend him for any position of trust’. He later told me that he ended up getting senior experience while working as a junior, but this eventually led to new opportunities.

At Headingley Leslie settled in well, living in ‘digs’ (rented accommodation) and becoming a valuable member of St. Michael and All Angels church, and, as already mentioned, Assistant Scoutmaster. But it was while he was in Headingley that the first Great Sadness in Leslie’s life occurred. Back in Failsworth his dearly loved brother Lewis was suddenly taken ill with appendicitis and, before he could be operated on, died on August 15th, 1930.

Lewis had qualified as a plumber, was courting a young lady from the Lake District, was Group Scoutmaster at St. John’s and had everything to live for . Many years later Leslie told me that he still missed his older brother and believed that not a day had passed since Lewis’ death when he had not thought about him. It must have been an awful blow too for Leslie’s father, Billy, and I believe that some of the emotion that father and son still felt is reflected in the dedication written by Leslie in a hymn book given to his father as a birthday present the following December: "To dear Dad, from Leslie, with best love".

The death of Lewis eventually led to Leslie’s return to Failsworth in August 1931, where he took over as Scout Master of St. John’s. The wording of the reference from J. E. Ellis suggests that Leslie had already accepted his next job before he left Headingley, and indeed this would fit in with his own philosophy regarding job changes: ‘Never get off one bus until you see another coming along behind going somewhere better’. This would have been particularly good advice in 1931-32 as this was the time of the worst unemployment that Lancashire had ever seen.

The new job was with ‘H. W. & G. T. Froggatt (Partnership)’, a Failsworth firm of builders. The senior partner, Harry Watson Froggatt, was well known to Leslie’s father, Billy Dunkerley. He was elected to Failsworth Council in April 1931 and served alongside Billy as a fellow Conservative in Billy’s fourth and final year as Chairman of the Council, eventually stepping down at the same time as Billy in 1934. In addition Harry was a member of Ben Brierley Lodge and both he and Billy were candidates to join the Ben Brierley Chapter in March 1936. Leslie became the secretary at Froggatts and began what those who knew him later would regard as an unlikely accumulation of experience of the building trades.

Despite Leslie’s best efforts, and surprisingly in view of the fact that there was a national housing boom in full swing, in about 1934 Froggatts ‘went bust’ and Leslie was left to find another job. Perhaps based on his experience with Froggatts, this turned out to be with the Manchester Corporation Housing Department. Leslie told me that he was one of six appointed from over 200 applicants. His work was at the Clayton estate, a few miles south of Failsworth, where he was an administrative supervisor responsible for carrying out costing and record keeping. On his application to join Ben Brierley Lodge early in 1937 Leslie’s occupation was given as ‘Cashier’.

At this point we must digress from the story of the apparently smooth progress of Leslie Dunkerley, employee. While working at the Clayton estate Leslie was introduced to John Hayward, a builder. Hayward was an un-discharged bankrupt with no proper business records but Leslie agreed to help him by doing his bookkeeping at weekends. Eventually Hayward closed down but this provided Leslie with the opportunity to buy from him a piece of land at Denton, a few miles away, large enough to build six houses. Leslie thus became a ‘Builder and Contractor’ and, putting his brother Albert in charge, started construction. With the outbreak of the Second World War the project ran into difficulties as building materials then became unavailable for private work. Eventually four semi-detached houses were completed, two were sold immediately and two rented out for a number of years prior to their eventual sale. I remember visiting the last to be sold, probably in about 1951. In the end Leslie estimated that his only self-employed venture just about broke even. Had not the war broken out perhaps he would have done better and continued building houses, but it was not to be.

Leslie had decided to look for a different job and had begun attending job interviews. He was still prepared to look outside of the Manchester area and we know that in 1938 he travelled to Blackpool together with Irene, his wife to be, for an interview, but no job resulted. In the end he accepted a position shortly after the outbreak of the Second World War at Taylor Brothers, Manufacturing Joiners, who occupied Froggatt’s workshop, apparently located at 1, Monsall Road, Newton Heath, near Failsworth. The ‘Brothers’ were ‘Jack William’ and ‘Tom’. The business had been established four years previously and was trying hard to grow. Jack, who had known Leslie from his time at Froggatts, recruited him as secretary responsible for all the administration. The business obtained some substantial and urgent orders for black-out work at A. V. Roe’s and Ferrantis, and they also worked for Mather and Platts. With Leslie on board, in its fifth year Taylor Bros. made more profit than it had in the previous four years put together. Tragically, Tom Taylor was killed when he fell through the roof at A. V. Roe’s. The firm continued and Leslie was impressed that they arranged an annuity for Tom’s widow.

Leslie’s next job change was to be his last and took place after the Manchester blitz, on 11th November 1941. It was with St. George’s Engineers Ltd., a medium sized company that had about two hundred employees in its heyday and premises in the bend of Ordsall Lane in Salford, close to Pomona dock on the Manchester ship canal. St. George’s was a family business, already well established in 1924 when Edmund Ashworth, who was to become a much respected colleague and friend to Leslie, had joined.

The business was owned by the founders, Messrs. John Anderson and Herbert Purslow and was able to carry out a range of engineering fabrication such as welded tank manufacture. During the Second World War St. George’s, in common with all engineering firms, contracted to the Ministry of Supply that had been set up to coordinate the war effort. Among the wartime work carried out by St. George’s was munitions work and the fabrication of trestles and parts for Bailey bridges to be used in the Allied invasion of Europe. In post-war times the company developed a considerable expertise in shot blasting, a procedure that used compressed air to fire fine steel shot at dirty or corroded steelwork to clean and polish it. They also developed innovative new shot blasting techniques, one of which involved the use of crushed walnut shells in place of the steel shot and could be used to clean and polish more delicate materials, such as stone. This technique allowed St. George’s Engineers to take part in the post-war work to remove the black grime, caused by generations of coal burning, from many public buildings, resulting in some startling transformations.

Leslie was 34 years old when he joined St. George’s as company secretary and accountant. In 1948 John Anderson died and the terms of his will, published the following March, caused considerable scandal by leaving the bulk of his estate, including his shares in the business, to his personal secretary, Mary Dugdale. An outline of the affair can be read here. Leslie's name appeared in the newspapers as the principle negotiator with Miss Dugdale and, supported by striking workers, eventually arranged to pay off the unlikely beneficiary of his former boss's will. A former employee, who had access to confidential documents, said that Leslie Dunkerley 'saved the company'.

It was perhaps as a reward for his judgement and efforts in relation to the Dugdale debacle that soon afterwards, probably by August 1952, Leslie was appointed a director. His work was meticulous and all his addition was done ‘in his head’; he never used a calculator in his life! He was responsible for all the financial control of the business, including detailed costing and preparation of the annual accounts. In relation to these latter, I heard him say, with pride, that the annual accounts had almost always balanced to the penny at the first attempt, and on the odd occasion when they did not he had found the discrepancy within a day or two.

One of his special contributions to the business was the introduction of a profit sharing scheme that was very successful in promoting improved productivity and maintaining good relations with the workforce. As the company prospered, so each worker was able to collect a nice annual bonus.

I remember when I was probably about ten years old – perhaps about 1956 – going occasionally with ‘my Dad’ to St. George’s, mostly of a Saturday morning, so that he could do an hour or two’s urgent work. We’d park the car in a corner of one of the engineering bays and climb a steel staircase up into the offices. They were built with wide corridors, steel partitions with glass panels above, and steel swing-doors. I remember a large drafting office full of impressive drafting tables and lamps. If the visit took place during working time I’d be introduced to people who were very nice to me, and feel rather shy and embarrassed. If it was a Saturday visit I’d be put on a swivel chair at one of the large desks in an office next to Dad’s and allowed to play with paper, rubber stamps, a stapler and other satisfying items, while Dad got on with whatever he’d gone to do. It made me feel a bit special and I’m glad I had the opportunity to visit where he worked.

In April 1971 St. George’s was taken over by a larger competitor. Leslie was asked to continue only until such time as the takeover became effective, which appears to have happened when he was 64 years old, on May 1st 1971. After 50 years of work he now signed on for ‘the dole’ and every week until his 65th birthday the following January he was obliged to get up early each Friday morning to go down to the Labour Exchange in Bury and collect his unemployment pay. He joked that it interrupted his daily lie-ins, but in reality he was beginning to enjoy an early retirement.

St. George’s was very good to Leslie, and no doubt he to it. He dedicated all his thoroughness to the job and not only was it customary for him to work 5½ days a week for many years, but he frequently brought work home and continued late at night at the dining room table in order to have information, or wages, ready in time for deadlines. St. George’s gave Leslie financial stability so that while there he was able to marry, bring up his family, buy his own home (he used the annual bonuses to redeem the mortgage early), and provide a standard of living entirely adequate for his aspirations. The stability that the firm gave also allowed him to develop his career in Freemasonry, as will be explained later.

I don’t know how much Leslie really enjoyed his work; my feeling is that he worked to live rather than living to work. He didn’t really carve out a career nor, while I knew him, was he in any way ambitious. Once he had found a worthwhile job with decent pay and prospects at St. George’s he was happy to stay put. It seems to me that his attitude to work was a personal one, of pride in being competent and doing a good job, of being reliable, honest and diligent, of completely meriting the pay he received and out of which he was able to provide well for his family. As a director, Leslie would have delivered solid information and well-informed opinions to help the board make their contract and investment decisions. I believe that the board of St. George’s truly worked as a team and Leslie was an essential and valued member of that team.
 

Marriage and family

Writing some account of marriage and family is quite a different task to writing one of, for example, Scouting. Not only is there a great deal more factual information available, but also I myself, as his son, am clearly involved, so decisions on what to include or leave out and how to interpret events are more subjective. Parts of this section may, to a greater extent than with other sections, tell a reader more about me than about the object of the account. So, taking a deep breath, here we go!

As we have seen, Leslie’s early years were well occupied with his own busy life. There was school, Sunday school, then Scouts, work, night school, rugby and weekend work. There was Sunday school teaching and other activities at St. John’s church too. It didn’t leave much time for chasing after the fair sex and apart from Leslie’s recollections of girls ‘dressing up’ to dance round the Maypole, we have nothing to tell us how he felt about the lassies.

However Leslie’s life was totally transformed between the ages of 29 and 36. During that period, from 1936 to 1943, his father died unexpectedly, he ended his Scouting, rugby and church activities, became a Freemason, courted and married his wife, began work at St. George’s Engineers, moved from Failsworth to his own home in nearby New Moston and, with the arrival of Christine Mary, started a family. Much of this happened against the background of the Second World War but by 1945, with the war behind him and the bright prospects of a new life opening up in front, Leslie must have felt a sense of wonder and exhilaration.

There is evidence that as Leslie moved towards his thirties he was actively thinking about finding a suitable young lady with whom to share his future. It isn’t hard for me to think of cases where flirtation certainly took place, although there is no hard information as to any relationships developing. Scouts and rugby were likely to be barren ground when it came to prospecting for brides, but St. John’s looked rather more promising.

It was there that Leslie eventually set eyes upon an attractive, unattached young lady called Irene Tuson, the daughter of a respectable businessman from nearby Hollinwood. Irene was nearly ten years younger than Leslie and at the time ran a stationer’s and tobacconist’s shop, which also sold sweets and fireworks (in season), and had a circulating library; it was located at 827 Hollins Road, Hollinwood and belonged to her father. At the time the family lived in the house at the same address. Irene was a shy girl, accustomed to travel and holidays, as her father ran a car, and was keen to get about. He was a successful boot and shoe repairer who employed six or eight men at his own shop, a hard-working man, responsible and definitely in charge. On 22nd March 1938 Leslie took Irene to see a performance of ‘Die Fledermaus’ at the Opera House in Manchester and this marked the beginning of their courtship.

Irene and Leslie used to see each other at church, probably on Sunday evenings, and during the week on Tuesdays and Saturdays. The earliest photo we have of Irene and Leslie together was taken on 10th September 1938 at Bernard and Edna Sheane’s wedding. Leslie conducted a good courtship campaign; there were birthday gifts and cards, Christmas presents, and letters displaying affection, humour and earnestness. By 1940, with the war going badly, there was a more serious tone to the relationship. In a letter to mark Irene’s birthday on 29th November Leslie wished her "health, enough of wealth, friends, the sense of doing some good to others, and so spreading happiness". He says "You have been very dear to me, and we always will remain such sure friends and companions, the one to the other, I know, because of the joy I feel when we are together". But he also sent her humorous verse.

Conditions during the war while they were courting were difficult, with a shortage of all the commodities needed for a normal life. People did as best they could; they made their old clothes do by patching them and they began planting vegetables in their gardens, encouraged by the government to ‘dig for victory’. In short they lived by their wits and tried to make life as pleasant as possible. Leslie wasn’t much good at growing vegetables, though he did try. He did slightly better in taking care of his ‘sweet tooth’ for, although it became impossible to buy normal sweets, he did discover that one could acquire a taste for a certain kind of cough sweet, reasonably freely available from the chemists’!

Leslie was never called up during the Second World War, probably because his occupation in an engineering firm involved in war work was classed as ‘reserved’. He served, however, as a Special Constable and took his turn at patrolling the darkened streets of Failsworth on the lookout for anything untoward, such as careless or accidental breaches of the blackout or to help in case of an emergency such as a bombing. He would, no doubt, have heard enemy aircraft overhead and the rattle of anti-aircraft guns during the blitz on the industrial heartland of Manchester at the end of 1940, when 684 people were killed and large areas devastated^[2]. Fortunately very little of that sort befell Failsworth. A stray bomb did drop near to the Wrigley Head (formerly Johnsons’) mill, which prompted the excited exclamation from his Aunt Polly, "All the mills blew out of Johnson’s windows!"

Patrolling the blacked-out streets of Failsworth was not a lot of fun, but Leslie, of course, did it diligently. The training manual instructed special constables on the beat to immediately throw themselves flat on their faces in the event of bombing. One of Leslie’s colleagues was a fastidious sort who confided in him that he had difficulty working out which was the more perilous – to stay upright and risk the bomb blast or throw oneself flat in the pitch dark on the pavement and risk landing in a pile of dog dirt!

Back to more pleasant things. As described before, Leslie had already discovered the enchantment of the Lake District while a Scout and he and Irene managed to make at least one visit to the area, in the company of Irene’s sister Mary and her fiancé Arthur Jones, during the war, in the summer of 1941.

Getting the job of Company Secretary at St. George's Engineers was the catalyst to the couple getting engaged. Leslie officially started in his new role on November 11th 1941 and on the following day he bought an engagement ring with three diamonds from Gent Bros. at a cost of £11 10s. What Leslie referred to as the date of a ‘great engagement’ was officially 29th November, Irene’s twenty-fifth birthday. However, four days before that a fine Chinese carpet was purchased in Irene’s name. In a letter to mark their engagement Leslie repeated the wishes expressed on Irene’s previous birthday but also wished for her ‘the fellowship of Jesus’. He adds "your sweet companionship and loving regard, I cherish above all things on earth".

Things then progressed swiftly. Banns were read the following January and on 7th February Leslie and Irene were married at St. John’s church in Failsworth. The witnesses were Leslie’s brother Clare and Irene’s sister Mary and her brother Richard. The reception was held at the Union Club in Oldham and the icing on the cake ….. was made of cardboard! There was a war on! The happy couple went to live at 28, Lord Lane, where Leslie had been living with his widowed mother, Selina, and his niece, Jean, daughter of Albert. There they occupied the downstairs front room and a bedroom, and shared the other facilities. It was not ideal. By this time Leslie was working at St. George’s and Irene at the Ferranti works in Hollinwood. The following 4th July Irene and Leslie took delivery of an oak sideboard, matching table and four chairs; they were making a home.

In September 1943, Irene and Leslie’s first child was born, Christine, at St. Mary’s hospital in Manchester. Dr. Strachan, Irene’s GP, was somewhat concerned about Irene because she had been ill with polio when a toddler, and he arranged for her to visit a specialist. In the event the birth went well, with 'just a stitch’. Food in the hospital was Spartan and Irene was obliged to put up with it for ten days while Leslie did what he could to visit, deliver little luxuries such as tomatoes, and kept up a relentless correspondence.

The family continued living at 28 Lord Lane for a time, but eventually Selina and Irene clashed over how best to care for Christine, and Irene fled with her infant to her mother’s home in Hollinwood! After trying unsuccessfully to rent a place of their own in Failsworth, Leslie managed to buy a very pleasant, substantial, modern semi-detached house a mile or so away at 1, Circular Road, New Moston. He was also lucky in that he was able to buy much of the seller’s good quality furniture at a time when there were shortages because of the war. Mother, father and baby daughter had moved in to their new home by October 1944, and the comparatively huge amount of space available, their nice furnishings, and the privacy, must have seemed like heaven on earth!

Two years later, in October 1946, with the war having ended the previous year, Leslie and Irene completed their family when Philip (me!) was born in Boundary Park Hospital, Oldham.

From about that time onwards Leslie and Irene’s family life took on quite an even tenor. Leslie continued bringing home the bacon from St. George’s Engineers and in the evenings pursued his varied interests, especially in Freemasonry. Irene ran the home and looked after the kids, who grew up and went to the local infants and junior schools in New Moston, then on to the local Grammar Schools. A cat – Fluffy – was acquired from the Kershaws at New Moston Inn, and became a part of the family for ten years. A strong family attachment developed with the local St. Chad’s church, where the children went to Sunday school, then church, and were confirmed. Christine went through St. Chad’s Brownies and Guides; Philip went through the local 346th NE Manchester (The Stables) Cubs and Scouts. There were family outings, typically to visit Irene’s sister, Mary Jones, and family at Clitheroe, or with the Jones’ to the seaside at Southport or into the lovely Trough of Bowland. Other than the name of the road changing from ‘Circular’ to ‘Chauncy’, there was considerable stability – just what was needed to bring up a family.

Of course there were also many changes, though these were mostly quite gradual. An exception to this rule was the acquisition of a car, which occurred in about March 1952. Irene had long been used to having the convenience of a car, but such extravagance had not existed in Leslie’s family. As Leslie progressed at St. George’s and as the annual bonuses reduced and eventually paid off the mortgage, so it occurred to Irene that a car could be afforded. She broached the subject with the breadwinner of the family who pointed out that neither he nor Irene was able to drive. To his surprise the response was "We can learn!" And learn they did. Irene passed her test first, soon followed by Leslie.

The first car was a second-hand fawn Ford Prefect – registration KXP 655 – known affectionately as ‘Florrie the Ford’. It was a satisfactory vehicle that could be persuaded to travel in a straight line by constant sawing at the steering wheel. It could be coaxed up to about 60 mph, which seemed immensely fast and dangerous, and probably was! After a couple of years Florrie was traded in for a brand new, bright blue, Ford Consul – registration HBA 199 – dubbed ‘Charlie’. He in time ceded place to a green more powerful Consul Mark II, also called ‘Charlie’ – registration VVR 604. After that Leslie was given a company car and chose a rather grand Hillman Super Minx (registration 8832 TD), from which, memorably, a wheel fell off. But he and Irene also bought one of the trendy new Minis and so became a ‘two-car-family’. I learned to drive in that Mini but can’t remember the registration (it contained an ‘NE’); it was like driving a surf board but seemed wonderful at the time. Later Leslie downsized to a Van den Plas 1100.

Having a car transformed life. Longer day trips became possible, for example into the Peak District, as did holidays further afield - to Woolacombe in Devon, Grange over Sands, Swanage, the Lake District, and later to Scotland! Florrie, Charlie and Co. were shrinking our world! We did not have a car radio, instead we would while away the miles by playing ‘I Spy’ or ‘Dog’ (you had to shout "Dog!" if you saw one first), or we would sing. Leslie had a nice voice and knew many songs, garnered from Scout camp fires, English tradition, Gilbert and Sullivan, and Hymns Ancient and Modern, as well as popular songs. Christine and I added more modern contributions.

We were thus a comfortable middle class family where everything necessary was provided. Besides comfort there was decency and respectability – but little extravagance. There was no hardship but there was a strong sense of thriftiness and respect for money. The pub saw none of the family income, and neither, during that period, did local restaurants. If there was extravagance it benefited the local sweetshops because Leslie and Irene each had a sweet tooth and needed to make up for time lost as a result of rationing during and after the Second World War.

Leslie’s relationship with his wife was probably typical of the time and within the traditions of both their parents. A woman’s place was the home, where Irene was expected to manage the buying, washing, cleaning and care of the children. While in New Moston she never had a share of the family bank account, nor indeed an account of her own. Instead Leslie would ask her how much she needed for immediate expenses, and provide her with the appropriate amount in notes. Larger bills were paid by Leslie from the bank account.

There was always respect and trust between the spouses, in all things, and I never had reason to doubt such trust. Leslie was amenable to progressively introducing labour-saving devices into the home as these came along. So a primitive washtub and dolly gave way to a small Hoover electric washing machine, then a larger ‘Parnall’ top-loader and a drum dryer. There was a Kenwood cake mixer, and an electric potato peeler was tried but ended up on a high shelf at the back of the cupboard.

There was a radio in the living room (it was called a 'wireless'), built by Leslie’s brother, Clare, but no television until I had left school – I sometimes felt left out of the school chat when everyone else was excitedly discussing what was on ‘tele’ the previous night. A compact piano turned up, that I understood had been Uncle Clare’s, and both Christine and I had piano-lesson money invested (not very profitably) in us. Dad would sometimes sit down at the piano and enjoy knocking out tunes by ear – he didn’t read music. Eventually we had a record player, the first records including LPs of The Mikado, The Gondoliers and Flanders and Swan’s ‘At The Drop Of A Hat’ – a wonderful production.

The home was kept well painted and decorated by Mr. Tasker, but there was no do-it-yourself. For one thing, do-it-yourself did not exist then as a concept, but in any case Leslie was famously unschooled in anything to do with tools. His mother had said that Leslie’s work was ‘yed wark’ (see Glossary), and I still joke that the only tools in the house while I was growing up were two screwdrivers, a coal hammer and a couple of bed spanners. And that isn’t far off the truth!

The accommodation at Chauncy Road was gradually improved. A substantial back porch or outhouse was added, a garage was squeezed on at the side and a coke bunker at the back complemented the built-in 'coal place'. Leslie’s brother, Albert, built a substantial brick wall to block access from the back garden to the insalubrious wilds of Moston Brook (then an open sewer), St. George’s Engineers installed a children’s swing built of steel girders that may outlast the Eiffel Tower, and a large garden shed became the repository for children’s bicycles and the lawn mower.

Leslie and Irene grew up at a time that very much pre-dated the ‘sexual revolution’. There were morals and respectability. Baden Powell provided instruction to Scouts on how they could overcome the ‘unnatural’ urges to masturbate, which he maintained could damage one's health, and the psychologist Rev. Dr. Leslie Wetherhead, a collection of whose books Leslie accumulated, explained how it could be inappropriate to have sexual relations on the night of the wedding, as the bride might be too tired by the stresses of the day. Couples tended not to be ‘touchy-feely’ and kisses tended to be ‘pecks’ on the cheeks. These were times when birth control methods were unreliable yet families often wanted to avoid having more children than they felt they could afford. For many people, therefore, sex was a risky activity, indulged in to satisfy the rather irksome urges of the husband in an attempt to stop him seeking satisfaction outside the marriage. Female pleasure often did not come in to it.

No doubt some couples cheated on each other or indulged in ‘frivolous sex’, but there is good reason to believe that Leslie and Irene steered a middle course, honoured each other and both drew enough satisfaction from their relationship to feel that they had a loving marriage and reason for contentment. They both knew which side their bread was buttered; they understood the dividends respectability paid and felt it was a fair deal.

There were quarrels, but never blows; there were raised voices, but never swearing; harsh words spoken, but never cruel ones. In the end, as I understood it, Leslie would have the final say. But maybe Irene was the ‘fause’ one (Glossary) and perhaps she got her way more often than I appreciated. Leslie and Irene enjoyed over fifty-four largely happy years of marriage together and there is no doubt that their relationship was one of love and respect.

Leslie had married relatively late in life, and therefore became a father relatively late too. By the time the children were old enough to get involved in activities with their father, Leslie had moved on from Scouting, hiking, camping and rugby to Freemasonry. Thus there were very few shared activities. Christine tended to have her own friends, and I mine. Dad didn’t take us to football matches, although we did have the odd visit to see Lancashire play cricket at Old Trafford, and enjoyed watching the seven-a-side rugby competitions with him on a couple of occasions. We were welcome to have our friends round to play with us at home and Leslie’s experience with Scouts and Sunday school pupils, plus his love of a pun, made him popular with such friends. He would play ‘French cricket’ with us in the garden, which everyone enjoyed, but that was as much sporting interaction as we had with him. Christine and I were given swimming lessons and I became a good swimmer, but Dad never went to the ‘baths’ with us.

However we frequently played cards and board games together over the years – Christine and I becoming precociously good at Canasta, and later fair whist players. We played snap, strip-jack-naked, Happy Families, various forms of patience, ludo, Cluedo, snakes and ladders and Donkey (a violent game, much loved!). There was to be no cheating!

If Mum had pretty clear ideas about what we should and should not do, and how we ought to behave, Dad was the one who laid down the law. Mum would rarely smack us, instead saving punishment up for us 'when Dad comes home’. And Dad had a quick hand that hurt! I seemed to bear the brunt and had to contend with Christine telling tales, as well as paying my dues for bad reports put in by Mum. There seemed to be plenty of smacks, and there were arguments too. Many issues were resolved summarily, both with Irene and with me. There was little debate, before a decision was made. Perhaps remarkably, I was never cowed by this procedure, although often overcome, and always seemed to maintain my own point of view. I could be difficult!

Life at Chauncy Road thus continued to unfold. Christine took her school ‘O’-level exams and passed five subjects, following which she left school and went to work at the head office of William’s Deacon’s Bank in Manchester. She discovered the attraction of boyfriends and at age 21 married Clif Cooke at St. Chad’s church in 1964. They went to live at Radcliffe-on-Trent in Nottinghamshire. Philip took ‘O’-levels and then ‘A’-levels, following which he studied geology and geography at the University of Newcastle upon Tyne, graduating in 1969. He joined the mining group Rio Tinto to work in mineral exploration and had spells in Scotland, the USA, South Africa and Brazil, where he met and married Nilma.

Christine and Clif eventually gave Irene and Leslie three grandsons following which Philip and Nilma evened things up by presenting three granddaughters.

After the children left home and as Leslie was approaching retirement, he and Irene decided to move to a bungalow at 555 Bolton Road, Bury, an event that took place in 1966. This then became the base for many happy retirement activities, including helping and enjoying Christine and family, who returned from Nottingham to live close by, and many developments in Freemasonry. Bury was also well situated for easier access to Mary and Arthur Jones at Clitheroe, and to the Lake District where Irene and Leslie bought a fixed caravan at White Cross Bay, Windermere. Many happy times were spent there, often in the company of friends or family, and Christine and Clif bought three cabin cruisers, in succession, each larger than the previous one, which they sailed on Windermere. Irene and Leslie enjoyed several other splendid holidays, with Mary and Arthur Jones and with Doris Warhurst (Irene’s cousin) in Norway (which they loved), Ireland, Austria and Hungary.

In 1984 Christine, Clif and family moved to Northorpe, near Bourne in Lincolnshire, after Clif obtained employment in Peterborough. Irene and Leslie made a number of happy visits there, until the marriage broke down, acrimoniously, in 1986. A divorce followed. This was, I believe, the second Great Sadness in Leslie’s life.

In the meantime Irene and Leslie much enjoyed a visit to Brazil to see Philip and Nilma, and Nilma’s family, in 1978. Philip and Nilma moved from Brazil to Portugal, and then Philip left Rio Tinto to join the Shell Group, working first in the Hague, then Spain, finally Chile. A move to a small Canadian company preceded a return to England in 1991 to provide the three girls with stability for their secondary education. The original plan was to live in the Bury area, but Leslie decided that his active retirement days were over and suggested that he and Irene move to Bourne in Lincolnshire so as to be able to provide better support to Christine and her boys, and to be better able to enjoy their company. Philip and Nilma decided that they too would settle in Bourne to ensure that the girls would have the opportunity to enjoy their grandparents’ company. Irene and Leslie bought a bungalow at 19, Westbourne Park and enjoyed five happy years there before Leslie died.

Leslie and Irene did not have many interests in common. Leslie tended to dedicate himself to Freemasonry, religious studies and an enjoyment of Lancashire dialect, while Irene had lasting friendships with ladies such as Ida Henderson, Margaret Brereton, Alice Howard, her sister Margaret Tuson and her cousin Doris Warhurst. She also enjoyed evening classes in, for example, pottery painting or art, and drove for many years as a volunteer for 'Meals on Wheels', an organization that took hot meals round to the elderly who were unable to cook for themselves. They did, however, always enjoy the company of both Arthur and Mary Jones and besides taking holidays together they had many happy visits to Clitheroe where Arthur revelled in showing them the beautiful countryside of the Ribble Valley and many secluded fine pubs and restaurants.

Leslie and Irene also shared a common view of right and wrong, of what should and should not be done, and they were able to pass on to their children a sense of morality and a set of standards that were reinforced at Sunday School, at Guides and Scouts, at Grammar School and (while young) each evening in family prayers. You tried your best, you were honest, you played fair. Not to do so was to end up with a bad conscience.

These, then, are some facts and recollections about Leslie and Irene’s marriage and family, presented honestly but perhaps not very objectively. It would be difficult to overstate the importance that family had to Leslie. It was a rock upon which he built much of his life and eventually, as age made other vital interests fade gently into insignificance, family was left as one of the main edifices that Leslie had built. He strove always to give enough of himself to his family to nurture it, and was immensely proud of even small achievements of his children and grandchildren, telling them ‘with advantage’ to his many friends. It is impossible to describe the depth and intensity of feeling that he had for the ongoing health and happiness of Irene, Christine and Philip, and his six dearly loved grandchildren. There is no doubt in my mind that when he died Irene, Christine and I were for him the three most important things in the universe.