Yesterday was my Mum’s birthday, she would have been 91. The photograph was taken on the promenade at Bournemouth; the year is 1929. She is sharing a deckchair with her Dad, Fred. Pipe in hand, resting on his cap, his right hand is bandaged. He spent his entire adult life enmeshed in aero and auto engines at a time when industrial injuries were taken for granted. There is another picture of him standing outside Andover Hospital with his arm in a sling, the result of another workplace accident, this time at Taskers; he would have been in his seventies.
My mum and I did not agree on many things but we shared a great affection for Fred. I can still smell the Three Nuns pipe tobacco which he would rub in his large scarred hands.