Hello everyone
I am Ellie, Tony’s eldest niece. Given Tony’s warm, friendly and kind nature, I am sure all your memories of him will be as wonderful as ours, and I wanted to share a few of these with you on behalf of myself and my younger sister Catherine.
Catherine and I overwhelmingly remember Tony as the loveliest, but also very fun, uncle. Throughout our childhoods we would see him often, and spend every Christmas together. During these visits Tony always made so much time for us, playing whatever board games we requested for hours on end, acting as a human climbing frame for a younger Catherine, and regaling us with stories of our Dad and other relatives during their youth. We very much enjoyed hearing all about our family history, and were amazed at the time and effort that he had put in to compile our family tree. I also thought that Tony was so much “cooler” than my parents, since he listened to the popular radio stations and knew all the words to whichever songs were in the charts at the time.
On several occasions Tony came to stay at our house and look after us for a week at a time, acting as a substitute parent when Mum and Dad were away for work. We remember these periods fondly, as I am sure that they were much more rule-free and treat-dense than our usual day-to-day lives. Tony however apparently cottoned on to my sister’s use of the pre-fix “Uncle” whenever she wanted something, and this banned the use of the name “Uncle Tony”, so he was always just Tony to us. Catherine and I also soon realised that if any of our classes or hobbies clashed with football or a favourite soap on TV, we would not be attending on time!
As a child I always seemed to have the ability to make Tony laugh, usually unintentionally, and at times uncontrollably. I used to regularly go and stay with him, and in the earlier years my Nanny was also there, and have memories of being handed over at various roadside cafes halfway between Norwich and Cannock. After being transferred, I was apparently very unimpressed that he would not drive at the same speeds as my Formula One loving father, and used to continually shout “take over that car”. After eventually realising that I had my words confused and meant to say “overtake”, and controlling his laughter, my former policeman uncle explained to me the concept of a speed limit. I also have fond memories of our Pictionary games, where my drawing skills were so bad, and the resemblance to the word on the card so minimal, that I had Tony in stitches. It may have been clear from a young age that I was not going to be an artist, but at least I could make Tony laugh, and I will remember those laughs and smiles so fondly forever.