Foreword

 

As I approach 40years on this planet, I thought that I should write down a few lines from my life. I was the youngest of three children in the family, being born on the 15^th August 1974, in Basingstoke General Hospital, the younger brother to older brother Jonathan and sister Jacqueline, my parents John and Carol worked hard to raise us from our roots in Basingstoke in Hampshire.

 

I remember growing up in the Abbey Road and Selby Walk. I also remember I had my first crush then, a friend of the family’s daughter called looby Lou. However when I recently visited these addresses few years ago, they still look like the photographs of my youth. But I could not remember the pub or the shopping centre.  But that’s progress for you.

But I do remember the John Hunt School Youth club, my friend and I must have only been about 4 ½ yrs old, but I remember that we would watch the older children go in there and it was loud and sounded fun. But we didn’t need that as we raced our cardboard boxes down the grass banks behind the houses in Abbey Road into the Playing fields, (now a Housing Estate).

 

But the highlight was to visit Bramley, to see granddad Bethell (BILKO) at the Army Fire station, with the fire train… around the Ammunitions Bunkers... Amazingly the station still stood a few months ago, but the entire site is now a building site. I bet that’s fun digging around there with the potential of old munitions in the ground… it was during one of these trips down memory lane, that some of the older generation in the village mistook me for my father, it just goes to show that I’ve inherited some of his good looks.

 

We moved from Basingstoke to Ipswich when I was just 5yrs old, so that’s nearly 32years ago, we must have made an impact or been well respected in the Bramley community, as Bilko opened the Royal British Legion building there. But it was in a poor state of repair on my last visit even the scouts were moving out of the building.

 

However, the move to Ipswich opened up a new world of friend’s family and trouble! We moved to Byron Road on the Whitton estate. As a youngster this was fun as making new friends was all part of the adventure of moving. My mother’s family was from the area, Coleridge Road, all seven surviving members of the Pearson Clan. Unfortunately Uncle Michael (my god parent) passed away, before we arrived in Ipswich. Uncle Billy, (the crazy man) was my first introduction to the family. As he only lived three doors away with Kevin, Joanne and Kenneth. But there was more to come, with Douglas, Betty, Ruby, Billy, Tony, Elizabeth and not forgetting nana Pearson (who I still call nana pearson) and granddad Harry.

 

Funny, how things progress, as we played, Kevin, Kenneth and Joanne little did we realise the benefits of that young friendships and family bonds would make in later life, are still relived at Clan Gatherings for birthdays, weddings and of course funerals.

 

But my love of dogs was born in Ipswich, Fred the Alsatian was Granddad Pearson’s dog. A big Lump of a dog, but soft when he knew you, Fred would lick you to death after scaring the hell out of you. But it was Mrs Hibbersons White Scott terrier, which I was allowed to walk during lunch periods at whitton infants.  It was great walking the dogs and enjoying their fun and unconditional love. Something that I’m enjoying again with my boy JONES!

 

School LIFE!

 

Being closer to retirement than infants school, I don’t remember much, But with moving to a new town, it meant a new school to attend, what I do remember from whitton infants is that I was thrust into the school play wearing a little drummer boys outfit and playing a tuppa-wear drum,  My first but, not my last venture onto the stage.  The years rolled on uneventfully until the wedding of the decade, Prince Charles and Lady Diana, where we were all crammed into the school hall and sang songs to celebrate and were rewarded with a celebration mug with the picture of prince and princess of Wales on it. Not that it’s worth more than a fiver now.

 

Other exciting things I can clearly remember were the milk and chocolate digestives. Yeah the day when, we got free milk at school and the opportunity to walk Mrs Hibbersons White Scott Terrier! On the other hand one of the things I did hate while at that school was walking from the warm changing rooms across to the schools swimming pool next to the canteen,  the school had one of those bright orange bromide smelling foot disinfectant, (oh just got a wiff of that then urgh). But that’s where my love of swimming was nurtured to enjoy and love it and enjoyed the yellow foot bath just as much as swimming in the plastic dome that covered the school pool.

 

Things changed when I moved to the juniors, this was where learning was key and games were played in the playground only.  Things were tougher and I didn’t like it very much, but my world was due to change again. I was soon moving to our new home in Sproughton road, and Springfield juniors, where some of my class mates would be with me for a long time to come.

 

But what a small world it turns out to be later on, when a girl called Fiona Berry and Lorna Beales that I was at whitton infant school would feature in my hobbies and adventures later in life.  My final report from Whitton School from a Mr Owen Said ” Stewart Like his brother is a very slow worker, he must learn to complete his work quickly if he is to make any progress”.  I love reading these comments when I’m bogged down at work, a little chuckle to myself and then I get on with things.

 

Springfield Juniors was a great school different from whitton, I worked hard to settle in and join in with country dancing lessons and my second brush with fame, in the schools production of the Emporia’s New Clothes. After years of being told not to strip off, I had the chance to wear flesh coloured Pants in-front of the whole school…  After giggles from the audience, I emerged with my pride intact and applauds from those who had paid to watch me… these Springfield years passed rather quickly, as I chased Nicola Stannard around Mrs Lawford’s class and my mum took a shine to Mr Lee on a school trip to the Woodbridge Tide Mill.

 

I did leave my mark on that school though, between a few of us, we managed to get the school to agree to build a pond. We dug it out after school and obtained a pond liner. It was not huge, but it was a start. I believe that the pond is bigger now and around the front of the school that faces onto Bramford Lane.

 

I was always active at Springfield, not being the fittest to play football or cricket in the playground, but I passed my cycle proficiency while at Springfield, just riding a bike was fun and something that without that ability to learn how to do safely I doubt I would have ever done some of the amazing things I have done for others on my bike. But one of the Sporting highlights was the annual 5star sports certificates.  Now I loved to jump, High jump that is. So it was one of those sports days that me and another fellow class mate, took the high jump record to a new high, one after the other we jumped like gazelles over fences, passing the 1m mark, back then we never had the comfort of a crash matt . We enjoyed the soft thud of the Handford Hall School playing field sand pits. But the magical scissor kick got us through to the 1m25cm area, where Jason Sawyer managed to out jump me, in a nail biting final.

 

You can tell very early on that the cards were against me and I was destined to fail as my final report from Mrs Steadman read “the difficulty Stewart has is getting his ideas down on to paper. (if only she could see me now) Unfortunately this is how most of school work is judged. He should cope well with school at Westbourne” “Stewart is very polite and friendly, he likes to be helpful. He is interesting to talk too, but finds it difficult to concentrate and to do well on paper”   writing these memories has been very difficult; I have now re-read this about 50 times and made changes every time!  It’s less than my last 105 page Travel Plan report to the local authority last month.

 

Then it happened, the school changed again. Good bye to the Bramford lane post office for sweets, and the fruit and veg shop that was owned by Gavin from Obsessions Tattoo’s parents. Never had 20p tuck money gone so far to buy so much fresh fruit, in there shop at the bottom of Surbiton road on the way to school. But thanks for the offer of a tattoo, but I’ll turn it down for now Gavin cheers. Those fun days of Springfield were soon to end and progress on to a larger school, Westbourne High School.

 

Westbourne High School was going to be daunting, both my older brother and sister where already there and I’d heard all sorts of horror stories. But as I already knew my first class and teacher from a preview day, with Mrs Silburn, I had met a couple of guys who I knew would be friends for a while, Ian Daley and Steven Groom. The first year passed quietly, but I was soon to meet Stefan Pooley and his family. A great bunch and we got free milk from his old man, (perks of being a milkman, I guess). There were so many friends at school Shaun and Eric and of course Robert Leberry, and Shaun Biggs, who are no longer with us (rest in peace fella’s).  Throughout the rest of my school life, all these names cropped up from time to time in my praises and my troubles.

 

No matter how careful I was at Westbourne, trouble always seemed to fine me. I remember one of the lows of my school day was when I was helping Stefan to fetch a ball from the toilet block flat roof. Now being lowly second years, the fifth form pupils liked to scare us and try to ruffle our feathers, while Stefan shinned up the drain pipe with me holding his legs for support. I was rushed by a few others and left Stefan hanging on the guttering, which gave way and he landed on the floor with the drain pipe closely behind him, Square on his head causing him to miss the rest of the afternoon, with a hospital visit hospital with a few stiches.

 

But it was during this time I did my first fundraiser for others. As an Ipswich Fire Fighter, My dad was stationed at Bond Street station, getting to know the other families in the crew. I soon learnt how dangerous their job they did was. It was 1985, we had been in Ipswich for six years and things were settling down, when the nation was rocked by a terrible fire. Bradford City Football Ground was raised to the ground Injuring fans, police officers and fire fighters, with several being killed. See shocking live footage here. http://www.liveleak.com/view?i=fc9_1278859042

 

If you watched the footage, you will understand how this would move anyone let alone a youngster from Suffolk to do something to help. I asked my parents if I could do something as there was a national campaign to raise funds for the disaster fund. So in earnest I set about arranging my first solo fundraiser with the aid of the Bond Street Fire Crew. I undertook a sponsored swim; I aimed for 25 widths of the pool to reduce the amount of space required. But I stopped on the day at 50 as I knew several people had sponsored me per width. I cannot remember how much I raised, but I knew in myself that I enjoyed helping others and that this would not be the last.

 

Returning to school on Monday a little wearily from my Sunday afternoon swimming session, I mentioned to my Careers Teacher, Mr Hamilton, what I had done that weekend. He said that if I fancied helping others I should come to a small group meeting about the schools connection with the Leonard Cheshire Homes in Great Bromley. Essex.  The school was going to support their Christmas Carol concert and send a few children along, well who was I to turn down a chance to sing and miss school for the afternoon.

 

The following week, mid-afternoon break, I skipped along to the office and waiting for the rest of the group to turn up. One by one they arrived, Stefan Pooley, Eric Sheehan, Timothy, plus some girls who at that age had not registered on the radar yet. But we jumped into the school mini bus and headed to the home. Once there we were greeted and shown into a room where a group of residents and nurses had already gathered and we were greeted as VIP guests. Something I remember clearly as overwhelming, but we stood in school uniform proudly in our red, yellow and black ties white shirts and trousers and shoes. The time flew by, quickly and we are having a bite to eat then back on the bus for the trip home… it was so humbling to see these people who had served their country, but  unable to help themselves (one of my earliest experiences helping others face to face).  But it was not too long before we returned to the home and another change in the direction of my life.

 

We were invited to attend the homes annual fun-day on a Saturday, the school where looking for volunteers, by then me and Stefan had joined forces and become known to most of the school as the pair of wheeler and dealers, who could obtain anything.. Really, the regular visit to the Sunday car boot to buy pencils and paper pads to sell on with a good mark-up. But we were given a game to run which for the life of me I can’t remember, but I know that Stefan and I must have done well as the time flew by. But one of the highlights of this trip was meeting two of the girls Louise and Karen, who were two years old than us. It was fun to have a laugh with them, as Stefan and I were only just 11yrs old.

 

Over the coming months we returned to the retirement home for various events and I guess that’s where my passion for helping others was nurtured. But one thing I did enjoy was the conversations on World War II. Being able to sit and listening to these gentlemen in the home, reliving their experiences, the stories were great as a young boy. Learning about their training, the actual times they were in Germany at battle and of course the home coming and emptiness following such close comradeship during the war years. Being advised by one gent to live my life to the full and help others if possible as it will be so rewarding.

 

Back a school; things were progressing with my brain being gradually fried by the GCSE choices of, German, Chemistry, Sociology, Biology, Physical Education, English and Maths. These were chosen as I aspired to be an ambulance driver/paramedic when I was older. I didn’t fancy the idea of following in the family tradition of being a fire fighter, dad and granddad before me were both fire officers. But I wanted something different, although helpful. So I embarked on a career path of an Ambulance Technician and Paramedic. Now it won’t surprise you all to hear that following two years of being in and out of school, hating it, loving it and thinking it a total waste of time. I didn’t do well in my GCSE’s in fact my highest mark was an “E” but I got grades in all of my GCSE’s but not enough for me to progress straight onto the ladder for nursing before the lengthy paramedic training. So that was the end of my paramedic dream.

 

Some of my Westbourne School reports make interesting reading, if only as youngsters we understood them maybe things could have been different. Mrs Benson wrote:” I am aware of Stewart’s determination to learn and now that he is learning to participate in group situations and to listen to what others are saying, his progress is becoming more apparent, although his written work is poor in presentation and construction, his enthusiasm to succeed should make him want to improve this aspect of his work”

 

Mrs Horlock who I never saw eye to eye with, wrote in my second year of High School “Stewart is still behaving very much as he did in junior school. I am afraid and I feel he should now realise that his future depends upon the responsibility he takes now to improve his chances.” I don’t think I paid much attention at school, but I feel I’ve made up for it now?

 

There was never a dull moment at school, either the constant threat of a fight by some older thug, buildings catching fire or trying to skive out of cross country runs and look like you did it.  But looking back now, like most adults, if only we had paid more attention to things our lives might be a bit more different now.

 

However It was during these school years, I found my friends, some of whom I still speak too (Via facebook), and a hobby that I still enjoy and the love of my life!  Friends come and go, but as a class of 1.8 in Westbourne high school, we had the most fantastic set of form tutors, Mrs Silburn, then Mrs Horlock (please don’t say too much I think I spent a lot of time in detention for that name!)  Then I spent the last year in 5.9 as I switched class to support my cousin Debbie. Our form tutor was a lady called Mrs Johnston Allen, who I would like to meet now and say THANK YOU for moulding me into the caring and gentle giant I am today, encouraging me to settle down and concentrate on my future and not worry about school life.

 

Friends growing up!

 

Now friends come and go, but it was these friends that helped shape my hobbies and enjoyment of childhood. I lived in the times where there was not an Internet, Xbox, and mobile phones where all something on tomorrow world TV programme. Our fun was made by playing outside and enjoying Mother Nature. When we moved to Ipswich from Basingstoke 1979 I was just five and didn’t know too much about it really, but growing up on the whitton estate, you knew that home time was when it was dark except Sundays strict 4pm curfew. But it was an enjoyable experience discovering the area, Ackenham Hall (great conker venue), the water treatment plant at whitton where we dammed the stream only to be confronted by a very unhappy water vole, oh the joys of riding our bikes out into the countryside into Blakenham, Claydon, and almost everywhere. That was my first playground with my brother and sister, Cousins Kevin, Kenneth and Joanne and a guy I now call Councillor Bates.

 

Ken lived in the corner house on our estate block, these were the best times, we all lived in the large square at the top of Byron road, where my uncle Billy Pearson lived with his then wife and three kids, then on the next block on the square there was a lady who had two daughters (Jo I recently met at a charity event), there dad was on the US base, so we got huge bags of everything from their shops. Then Ken lived in the far corner. The games we used to play on the large green now partially a car park were forty forty, football, cycle races, we even had our own airport. You’d never guess that a hard plastic toy plane, with bendy wings could provide hours of fun. But we would launch this thing using Post Office Elastic bands discarded by the postman. Seeing how high we could get it and how far we could get it. Now this was the tricky bit as the houses at the bottom were in the firing line and if we over cooked it, the plane would end up in the wrong garden. But many times we would clear the house at the bottom from Byron road footpath at least 50mtrs. Thinking about that now, if the manufacturers of that toy knew what kids could do with it, it would still be made today!!

 

However reliving stories of my dad’s short lived army days, we kids thought that during one thunder storm it would be great to strip off to our undies and run around the square with a bar of soap having a wash in the rain. Just like one of his stories of being on a training exercise on Dartmoor he had told to us. If that happened today the police would arrest my parents for child cruelty or some other stupid rules in our nanny state.

 

We moved from the estate when my parents decided to purchase their own home. In the early 1980’s a modest three bed semi on Sproughton Road cost a mere £17,000 scary to think what it’s worth now?? (I must not think of my inheritance yet!) But before we move on to my adventures at Sproughton Road and new friends, I’ve got to clear the air!! Councillor Bates, only we know the truth about the phantom dart flinger and that lovely car windscreen at 91 Byron Road!  See you at the next beer festival; I’ll get the first pint!

 

The move to Sproughton road meant a lot of changes, schools, home and friends, but it’s where I met some fantastic people and where I discovered a hobby that I still do today.

 

As I was used to exploring the area around my old home in Whitton, Sproughton Road was a whole new experience, an Industrial Estate with a dairy and slaughter house and meat factory.  My days were soon filled with wandering about the slaughter house yards watching the cattle and sheep arrive, knowing that there were distend for the meat factory next to the dairy. But what made this more fun was the security guard. The land is private and is still owned by the Co-operative society. They had regular security patrols; a large African-American guard with a huge Alsatian dog. You would bump into him from time to time, where you would make some excuse. It was like a game of cat and mouse, trying not to be caught as you explored the bins.

 

I was 12 at this time and tinkering came into my world. Building things and repairing things. The bins offered me a wealth of recyclable material, wood, glass, craft knifes, fish head and rejects from Ray Harvey’s and used motor oil and inner tubes from cars and trucks at Williams.

 

It was during one of my regular play sessions that I met one of my new friends Claus, I kid you not. His full name according to his parents was Claus Eric Farber Peter Greggs. Over the next 6yrs we got into nearly everything together, cycle rides across the town to Nacton to see his real dad (Fred Farber- who I worked with at the Port of Felixstowe, small world).  But our love was freshwater and sea fishing and swimming in the river gipping, oh and bin raiding.  Those car/truck inner tubes that had a small punctures were great on the river when we had repaired them. Often you would find us near the I Love Marie/Dawn Bridge on the river gipping swimming and avoiding the fishing bailiff George Alderson!

 

We were often being grounded, for being late home or some other incident. It was one of these days that I remember clearly. As youngster, we were never as wholesome as we are now, but I had a massive cooking apple tree that generated enough windfalls to keep Mrs Beaton chained to the cooker for life. So we decided to have an apple fight. Sounds harmless enough, but Claus lived two gardens over (approx. 18mtrs). During these Play fights we would often lob whole cooking apples over this distance hitting sheds, fences, green houses and each other. We had been playing for a while, when I was called for tea. Shouting that I was off and wandering up the garden I felt a smack to my head and felt a bit weird. I shook it off and then felt a warming sensation pouring over my head, BLOOD.  Claus had made a spear from the window beading and a craft knife from the window factory skip and hurled it at least 20Meters and scored a direct hit. Now I sit here with a wry grin on my face reliving this, but my parents must have thought that there was an axe murder in the garden. After explaining what had happened just minutes before, I was frog marched around to Claus’s house, Blood streaming from my head, while waiting for the door to be answered by Sonia (Claus’s mum).

 

The toe curling schrill must have been heard across Ipswich as she bellowed his name CLLLLAAAAAUUSSSSSSSSSSSSS.  I thought we were in for it this time. But after his shocked appearance and response, we left him and his mum to it, as we made a swift trip to a regular place for me growing up, Anglesey Road A&E. it was not long till we were soon playing on the estate again. But vowed never to make spears!

 

We saw the estate grow with the Co-op federal (distribution) building and Rackham’s and the new dairy building causing the biggest amusement for years, as there was a dairy bottle dump found near to the river. There were bottles from every century coming out of the ground. This was my first experience of archaeology and my last after not finding that elusive complete bottle worth thousands of pounds.  But this time Claus’s step dad Graham was there with us, we were introduced to the security guard more often. He knew we were not up to much good, but warned us that we were not to take anything that was not in a skip!! Like a red rag to a ball Claus and I along with a few others, John, Paul, Christian, where often on the estate having a great time, especially when the distribution centre got into full swing. Often we would carry cases of hotdogs or beans home, the case splattered in juice and not looking too great. But following a carefully washing by our parents, there were some great spoils to be had. But as keen fishermen the Ray Harvey/SMT bin gave us the best spoils. FREE BAIT with both fish head and cod cheeks for Pike fishing or off cuts of Meat to make our own maggots, Enterprising at such a young age!! You don’t see that on dragons den.

 

My sister would often follow Claus and me to the river, Karen (from School fundraising trips) was friends with my sister, so would often be there, watching us do stupid things like jumping in the river from the gas pipes or bridge buttresses or just fooling about on the water in a kayak. We were both jolly lads, and were never shy in stripping off for swim in the river in our undies, before sitting in the sun to dry off before getting home. So Karen saw a lot of me before we were in a relationship. But maybe she liked what she saw??

 

There were some dark times during my childhood growing up, I had a brush with the law when I was 12yrs old. I’m still a bit ashamed of this, but it’s a lesson that I learn the hard way, as children need a shock to the system every now and then. As I was always repairing my cycle, I could not afford the Allen Keys to repair my bike. After some desperate searching I visited the solar superstore and stole a set.  Now being young it never occurred to me that there would be someone watching. But there was a guy called Mr Parmenta. The Store Security guard, I was caught red handed and marched off to the security room. Knowing how hard my parents worked I knew I was in big trouble. But the police arrived and I was duly taken to the station and awaited my parents. When they arrived I broke down in tears and apologised. Vowing never to do anything like that again, seeing this remorse, I believe even the police felt sorry for me, and that I had learned my lesson. I was cautioned and sent home to face the music. I was to see the inside of our house for some time, before I was allowed even in the garden to play. But a lesson well learned at such an important age in my life. I’ve been please to say that my only other brush with the law is for those occasional speeding tickets and one other incident I will share a little later..

 

But I soon gained release from the house, promising that I would never do that again and was down the river fishing and swimming with Claus, john, Paul and the girls. But it was not till the annual Suffolk Fire Service New Year’s Eve Party at the New Princess Street station. That I got the courage to ask Karen if she would come to the annual event with our family, as she already knew my sister. Luckily she said yes and from that day onwards we grew closer and closer. I still have some of the letter we used to write to each other and at such a young age, she and I wrote very romantic and raunchy letters to each other. I will not be printing any passages from them here, as it would only cause my relationship to end dramatically...  But we were in love then and I know that were in love know as I wait for her to call to let me know she’s ok and home safely from work. I’d be lost without her. Love you my little cherub, my Rock…

 

Moving to Westbourne I was immersed in the big world of adults and expected to behave as one, something I found tricky. But I was not along and soon found friends in Stefan Pooley. We were like two peas in a pod. Stefan and I soon were known as the guys to buy stationery from, a good deal at the Portman road car boot sales, gave us extra pocket money on sales of pencils, rules, and pens. But he invited me to join him one Thursday at the scout group at the top of Sproughton road. The 24^th Ipswich scouts, met in a very old building that looked like it could fall down at any time, but it was there that I met several people who I still see today and consider as great friends.

 

 

Every Thursday I would finish my tea and say I’m going to Stefan’s. But for months we were at scouts learning how to tie Knots, play crab football and make chariots (Tying three staves in a triangle with square and diagonal lashings) and then pull each other around the hall in races. It was one of these night when I decided to stay on after the main meeting had finished to play DEATHBALL, (kick the ball as hard as you can at the person on the opposite side of the hall, if you get hit before it hits the rear wall your out) simple really.  The time always flew by and while the leaders where having a cuppa tea and chatting, but when the door flew open there stood my MUM, I was not the only one in shock. But I believe I just said good bye and ran for the door.  I never returned to the scouts for a few weeks. I kept pleading with my mum to allow me to return. In April 1987 I officially joined the 24^th Ipswich Scout Group.

 

A Working Life for Me!.

 

By the age of 12, I was a child that wanted independence, so I managed to get a paper round with Chappels on Bramford road, owned by a brother and sister Esmay and Eric, who smoked and the shop was like an ashtray. But they say when your older that if you looked haggard you must have had a hard paper round. Well my morning around was quiet hard, it started off on Farthing Road industrial estate and finished next to grandparents Bethell, Home in Sproughton village. My evening round was just Sproughton road, up to the last bungalows, but nearly every other house had an Evening star. Saturdays you’d just finish the stars and you returned for the Geen-un’s.

 

Youngsters worked hard for their pocket money with three rounds just earning £12 a week. As time progressed I was allowed to collect funds from the Sproughton village round once a week, like a milkman with the snappy note holder with elastic. I would record and collect the funds, return to the shop and collect my increased wages of £15 as I collected money.  It was on one of these morning rounds where I required a major visit to hospital. My bike had broken, so my mum helped out with my round with her car. Racing through the round we arrived in Glebe Close, now I normally walk around the edges of the lawn and carefully back, but on my way out from one of the houses, I jumped the small hanging chain fence, only to get totally caught up and end up flat on my face. Being a brave little soldier, I jumped up brushed myself down and ran to the car. Upon climbing in I noticed a warm feeling on my leg. Yep you guessed it, more blood, streaming from my torn open knee cap. With only two papers to finish the round, we delivered them and arrived at grandma bethells house, where I was duly patched up and dispatched for hospital. This adventure is a lesson I’ve still not learned from, as I still like to jump over little things from time to time and the odd one catches me out, but does not result in a trip to A&E and a few stitches and a lot of pain, thankfully...touch wood.

 

I didn’t achieve the grades I needed to progress to college as a paramedic.  But I had secured a job at 15yrs of age pushing trollies at SOLAR superstore (now Morrison’s). Not the most glam of Jobs, but Like Maureen Lipmann said in the BT adverts of this era, “oh you did well in pottery Adrian, remember that people will always need Plates!” That was my thinking; people will always need trollies for shopping. I got just £25 per week, but £10 was recovered by my doting mother for house keep. Yeah I was taught from a very early age that if you’re earning a wage you have to pay your way. In 2000 I was advised that I would need to think about getting my own place, the last of three children to fly the nest. Buying your first house should be rather daunting, but thanks to my parents strict, pay your way rules, it was not as bad as some children find out. (Something that I will always thank my parents for, as it’s one of life’s lessons, Thanks Mum & Dad).

 

But it was rather a strange thing to return to the scene of the crime nearly 4 years later, after my run in with Mr Parmenta and the police. But it was my time to show them that I was hard working and trustworthy person. The Store Manager was a Mr Nunn, I think? Gave me a job on the basis that I was a scout and his son was a scout in a different group, but I forgot to indicate my earlier run in with the law and Mr Parmenta to him in my interview.

Come rain or shine I moved trollies, my record was 45 trollies at once, with no straps attached without hitting one car!. You just don’t see that in Tesco’s these days. But the trolley area was always clean tidy and full ready to serve the customer. It was during one of my shifts that I bumped into Mr Parmenta, where he reminded me he was keeping an eye on me. I reassured him that I was grateful for the reminder, but I was a different person to that stupid child and could be trusted.

 

The trust I earned with him, I soon had keys to the back-up generator room where they kept the broken monster external hoover for rubbish. I soon had it up and running, sweeping the front forecourt areas of Solar Superstore, keeping it clean tidy and full of trollies. But what goes around comes around, I could tell you a story, but those who remember the solar days, will know it and chuckle…….

 

I progressed into the warehouse to learn the ropes under the ever watchful gaze of Phil Abrham, Paul West and Ray and managed by a little Cypriot/Greek guy Joe shortino. I was taught many things, how to sweep an entire warehouse, how to catch a case of washing powder (4x2.5kg boxes) without dropping it and most importantly, how not to change the radio from ELVIS and T-REX……. But for four wonderful years I enjoyed the fun of the warehouse, unloading Lorries and learning to drive a forklift truck.  But I was taught many life skills here too.

 

At break time we would disappear to the small canteen for a coffee and sandwich and a couple of hands of crib... Yeah at 17, I was learning to play crib and by some very good players. I was often getting it wrong, upsetting paul or Joe..  The consequence was some mundane job in the warehouse, or stock taking without the benefit of the forklift.  But riding around on a pallet on the forks we would count an entire warehouse in double quick time with me counting and Paul or Phil driving the forklifts. HSE would have a major hissy fit these days if they saw how we did things then.

 

It was also where a vital lesson was taught to me, “How to drink” being young, alcohol is something I had not really tired. It was all the rage to go on booze cruises out of the Port of Felixstowe. I was 17yrs old and Karen 19yrs old. We stood waiting with the others at the Owl and Pussy Cat before joining the overnight ferry to Belgium, me drinking a pint of real ale and Karen a Pineapple juice, when the landlord asked Karen for I.D as the police like to do spot checks, it still makes me smile that.

The trip was arranged by some of the stalwarts of the coop,(some still employed at Morrison’s and Asda). We sat with Gillian Easter and Claire, Phil Abraham, Paul, and Julie and twins Pauline and Maureen. As we were all drinking except Karen it was not long before I passed out. But seeing the mess in the morning was a shock, it must have been the worse job in the world clearing up after them trips. But Phil awoke and said what’s the problem, he seemed immune to the effects of alcohol and was off searching for the next boozer to be open in Belgium at 7am. I soon learned how to drink and these trips become more fun watching the same carnage on the P&O ferries, until these trips were no longer ran from Felixstowe.

 

I soon moved jobs and became a trainee baker for a small company in Stowmarket. You know when you make a decision to move job and think, what have I done. Well this is one of the first errors in my job selection in life. I was to learn a new skill and work night shifts at 19 this was something my poor body was not used too. I soon realised that this company would stretch me physical limits. Baking from 10pm and then driving from 7am till 10am, I soon learned to develop my ability to work long hours without crashing the van, as I drove to Sible Headingham and great customer service for those I was late delivering too. (Sorry again Mr Post office man at Gisslingham).

 

This job tested my physical ability and my relationship with Karen, so much so I was soon applying for a trainee baker’s role within Tesco’s. I was successful and was thrown into a team of bakers of all skills and ages. The Lead bakers were Darren Westlake and Adie Flude, with the rest of the motley crew we were trained to bake at Colchester Hythe and Copdock, before the New Martlesham Heath Tesco’s opened.

 

Tesco’s in those days was a great employer, in-fact there still not that bad, where else do you get 10% off your shopping each time you shop, free shares in the company as bonus, the ability to purchase more at a reduced rate, uniform provided and did I mention that they pay you monthly too…

There are some great stories from Tesco’s but to protect the majority of upstanding members of the community. I thought that I’d share this with you. It was Christmas and as Tesco Bakers we worked hard (16Hr days for at least 2yrs when the Martlesham store opened) and we played hard too. Often once a month we would venture out to Ipswich town. It was one of these nights that we were wetting the head of Danny Bernard’s new Baby, the rules are simple. £20 kitty, when it runs out chip in more if you leave early you forfeit the pot…  I’m not sure what I was drinking, but meeting at Mark’s and drinking gold vodka before we got into town it was going to be a hard night.

 

Now for the youngsters reading this you might need to ask an adult, but venturing out last month I noticed the retro drinks making a comeback, I for sure won’t be venturing near them. But the drinks of the time where 20/20 in a variety of flavours and all the standard gas pumped larger. We arrived in the Butts Wine Bar now the Keo bar, but it was here where my night took turn for the worse. Having consumed large amounts in the Falcon, drinking 20/20 pushed me over the edge. So I handed over the kitty to Adie and made my way to meet Karen, who was at the Arboretum in High Street with Nigel Welsh. It’s not far from the falcon to the Arboretum, but I seem to get as far as the Church Hill Insurance Office (Crown Street Layby) before taking a breather and falling asleep on the steps.  As this was before I had a mobile phone, Karen could not find me or knew where I was.

 

But thankfully, some nice person contacted the police who for my own safety detained me in their lovely 3mx3m cell until I was sober enough to leave.  The next morning Karen was walking towards the police station looking a little angry. After some grovelling and a 15mile bike ride finishing at the Arboretum pub and not being allowed a hair of the dog, I learnt another lesson in drinking, don’t start on spirits!!

 

Monday soon arrived and as I collected Dangerous Dave for a support baker trip to Colchester Hythe. Driving down the A12 I embellished my embarrassing story, even the bit about a guy who was very angry in the cells and stopped me from sleeping. Kicking the doors and screaming all night.  Dave went very quiet, as it transpired, he was that angry man in that cell kicking the door down and screaming. He was arrested for throwing a kebab at a car on the way to Hollywoods nightclub. Dave said the guys in the car where giving him an evil eye so he said “did they want some of him and hurled his kebab at the car”, unfortunately it was an unmarked police car... I do hope some of the bakery guys can make the trip to Germany for my fortieth birthday!! It’s bound to be carnage but a great laugh, who else wants to come now??

 

I progressed well in Tesco’s through the ranks until I became bakery manager in Newmarket. It took two years as bakery manager to turn around a 5K a week bakery to 10K+, although hard work, the final straw came at Christmas. I was called into the office and given a box of sweets. Nice I thought only to be given a Father Christmas outfit and told not to enter the bakery and give sweets to the children around the store.  I left the following Easter, fearing an Easter bunny outfit!!..

 

I resigned and joined the Port of Felixstowe in 1998.

 

I had only been at the port as a customer on the Booze Cruises, so being there and working was different. But training was tough, sat in a class room all decked out in orange overalls and none the wiser, hearing stories of death, injuries and friends for life and the Hollywood wages(30K P.a). It seemed a great place to be as we learnt hand signals for guiding the crane driver to be tested on the training crane. Life is too short sometimes, so I had learnt to be a bit of a joker.

 

So arriving on the day I had my test on crane driver signals, I was advised that I could put anything I wanted on the crane and give instructions to lift it and let see how I get on. Fetching my 4ltr Ice cream tub lunchbox, I proceeded to instruct the crane driver. Nothing happened and I thought that I had failed. But the crane could not lift my lunch box, the instructor looking puzzled asked, what’s in the box, I replied BEEF Sandwiches. Well that was it, my port nickname was sealed and I was called BEEF from there on in and still am today by some of the port workers and even my nieces at times.

 

Having passed my ship working courses, I was soon on these massive container ships lashing, but not for long, I was called into the office. Hamish knew everyone and had picked me to go TUG driving training. A tug is an automatic HGV lorry; I was trained by David Couchman and Steve Banks, two great crib players. I could hold my own after years of playing at the co-op with phil, joe, but these guys were in a different league.  I still remember the shock on their faces when I passed out from my IMV (Internal movement vehicle) training; I gave them a cream cake each (a nine inch cream sponge...) The years spun by at the port and I soon found myself moving up in the company literally as I became a rubber tyre gantry crane driver (RTG- tranny driver).

 

I was soon on C Shift with Larry, Marti, JD, Boney and far too many others to mention who I know if I asked nicely they would help me out.  As all works have a Christmas party, we would go dog racing in Romford. Now before you start thinking that the last time I went out drinking it ended up with me being in trouble. I have to point out that it was not me this time.. The night was such a laugh with twenty Dockers drinking on the bus on the way down and enjoying their night, only to be spoiled by some silly lad who thought that picking on me in the betting queue was a smart thing to do... I am not a violent man, I would rather walk away, but MOXY on the other hand was like a pit ball, holding him back while he screamed”let me at him beef, let me at him”, made me chuckle. But we were escorted out at the end of the night by security team, as the guy who wanted to fight me had been threatening others at the track all night. Just like my school days trouble always finds me…

 

The journey home was as entertaining as the night itself, Simon (simple) Grimson had too much to drink and passed out as soon as he was seated on the bus.  Having had too much to drink, we urgently needed to stop at Chelmsford services for a comfort break and food, Simon didn’t move!!, So he was teased with tomato sauce which he smeared over his face as it trickled as he slept and then burger wrappers were added. I used to have a photo of it somewhere, it was a mess.

 

Injuries were soon upon me and I had to switch jobs, I got a hand injury whilst assisting at the Essex Scout Jamboree in the catering tent and could not drive a crane anymore, so I took two jobs a social club and the ports travel plan in September 2008. Little did I know that the financial crash would affect the social club, as I had no budget, and was running a few events on a shoe string, the company soon removed that element of my role. So I was left with the travel plan. Not knowing a thing about green travel as I have a 4x4 3ltr diesel, it was a shock to the system to try and encourage employees to cycle, car share or walk to work. But in 2010 the travel plan was awarded the Suffolk’s Greenest County Award for travel planning, something I hope we can do again very soon.

 

But through hard work I carved out a niche for me within this sector and now I’m the proud driver of an All electric Vehicle saving myself a fortune in the ever increasing cost of diesel.  I’ve not turned into a tree hugger and donned my socks and croc’s, I still have my dirty 4x4 3ltr diesel truck for towing the caravan and going sea fishing on Orford Island.

 

Introduction to charity

 

It was 1985 and I did my first fundraiser for others, it was during this time that I developed the passion of helping others even more and believe this is where I learnt to say” I could do that” My dad was stationed at Bond Street station as an Ipswich Fire Fighter, getting to know the others in the crew. I soon learnt how dangerous the job they did was. Being retained in Ipswich meant that any time his bleeper went off, he would race as safely to the station and book in to make a crew before attending those in need of the fire service, this sometimes meant being deposited in the games room at bond street (now a Mosque), which we almost had the station to ourselves, except the late fire officers turning up and the ghosts. But we had access to the snooker table, dart board and to look around the old fire station including the Hay loft.

 

It was 1985, when the nation was rocked by a terrible fire. Bradford city football ground was raised to the ground Injuring fans and fire fighters, with several being killed.  This rocked the fire services and the football world, so much so that even now during fire training with Ipswich town football club as part of my steward training, we had to watch the video of the fire and how the fans, police and stewards responded.

 

As we were regulars at the swimming pool for two hours I asked my parents could I do something as there was a national campaign to raise funds for the disaster fund. So in earnest I set about arranging my first solo fundraiser with the aid of the Bond Street crew. I undertook a sponsored swim; I aimed for 25 widths of the Fore Street pool to reduce the amount of space required.

 

The day arrived, I slipped into the pool, with determination to do my best, like flipper I was soon gliding through the water, easily passing the target of 25 widths and carried on and stopped at 50 as I knew several people had sponsored me per width therefore raised more funds for the fund. Handing in the cash to the cashier in Norwich road branch of Midland Bank, I remember saying that I could do that again and raise more.

 

I cannot remember how much I raised, but I knew in myself that I enjoyed helping others and that this would not be the last time I undertook a personal challenge.

 

Charities play a big part of my life, whether it’s organising a fun day, bike ride or just giving a second chance to an animal or donating money, my just giving stats’ say that I give more than I have raised in the past few years. But I put that down to be a giver and not seeking much from anyone in return. But I know that a lot of people give their time to a lot of charities.

 

I have made some great friends though my charity work and I hope that I can support you all in the future, here are some of those charities I’ve supported and still do on an ad-hoc basis. 24^th Ipswich Scouts, 11^th Ipswich Scouts, Macmillan Cancer Support, Masons Magic, East Anglian Air Ambulance, Shona’s Smile Foundation, Ipswich Hospital Special Care Baby unit, Ipswich hospital’s Bergholt Children’s ward, Fire Service Benevolent Fund, East Anglian Children’s Hospice, Camille’s Appeal and many more that I’ve been asked for sponsorship.

 

My most recent event was Christmas day Dip into the North Sea, this was made extra special as I lef the water and assisted another charity fellow, Karen approached me, “can you do that again?” Why i said?? “the batteries on the camera ran out” she replied. With new batteries installed my body and mind was saying no as I felt the temperature drop inside my body. But it had to be done.

 

Scouting

 

After the earlier episode of scouting with Stefan, I eventually joined the 24^th Ipswich Scout Group in April 1987. My Patrol Leader was Neil Groom who must have been at least 7ft tall and very bossy; his Assistant Patrol Leader was Patrick Goodwin. These youngsters were there to lead and guide you through scouting and ensure you became a team player and knew the scout law and promise….  The troop nights where great fun, the building felt like a den and that we were against the world, but having so much fun. Even the winter never stopped us meeting. We had portable heaters, which we moved around the hall to dry the floor so we could play games and hot drinks were served after taking fresh water from the toilet cistern. But there were so many skills to learn. Pioneering skills, Knots & dead man’s anchors.  These were used regularly at the groups AGM as the scouts created a massive rope bridge across the car park towards the storage shed.

It was soon the summer of 1987, my first taste of try scouting away from home. The group were heading to Walesby Forest in Nottinghamshire. Having never been out of Ipswich, without my family since I arrived, travelling by coach to Nottingham was an adventure, but to camp out and participate in activities was every boys dream week away. Rifle shooting, archery, ropes and swimming and lemmings leap (a jump off some sandstone cliff face into water) these were all topped off with Horse riding!

 

My first time away from home and I was loving it. We walked to Ollerton to the local stables, where we were given a short lesson in controlling a horse. Then we were off for a hack!  Our route took us back to the campsite, where another group were booked in to take the horses back to the stables.  The week was long and tiring, I never missed home as we were never allowed time to sit around, this led to one of those curious things that wake up and think, Hmm How did that happen?

 

Being the newest and largest, I was to sleep in front of the tent door. This meant that I had to close it at night and keep my kit tidy, also to act as a draft excluder. Towards the end of the camp I was rather tired and overslept; the leader at the time instructed my patrol leader to get everyone out. This led to me being dragged in my sleeping bag and left in the middle of the field asleep.  Only to awake with giggles from a group of girl guides as they marched past our site.

 

It was after this camp that an event happened that makes you think differently in life. Patrick Goodwin my Patrol Leader suddenly passed away. The whole youthful aspect of scouting disappeared and everyone became very serious about losing a fellow scouter. At the request of his parents we were invited to attend his funeral. I remember being at my grandparents and donning a black armband on my uniform for the first time, arriving at the church where no one spoke in a jovial way, but we formed a guard and stood there emotionless at the loss, as a coffin passed me. I still remember that day in Sproughton Village.

 

But the skills taught in scouting have stood by me in all my adult years, organising and planning camps/events, to being able to interact with children and being toughen up to deal with all manner of situations. In my years as a scouter, I’ve attended many scouts’ funerals, taken due to illness too soon, but I don’t dwell on death. There is one certainty in life and that were all dying every day, some will go sooner than others, but you have to make the best of each day you have and enjoy it. It was during these sad times that I remember the old guys in the Leonard Cheshire homes, listening to their stories of how they had a great time and that they would not have changed it. Just like Patrick and us scouts, we were having a great time camping and learning life skills and we should carry on and enjoy our life’s adventures.

 

Over the 20yrs in my scouting career as young leader, scouter, group scout Leader, and member of the SAS, (Scout Active Support) Scouting has made such an impact on my life, but these years could not have been as fun without Karen my right hand person, chief cook and bottle washer and mother/ Nurse maid to probably 200+ children, in fact she could give old mother Hubbard a run for her money.

 

On camp if Karen’s cupboards were bare, it only meant one thing “McDonalds”, as meals were planned to activities and the shopping trips made on the return from days out. I don’t think I ever heard a child or leader saying they were hungry or not well fed and watered. With a budget of £1 per person per meal (£21 per week) Karen would always have at least £5 change at the end of the camp per person.

 

Scouting introduced me to so many interesting hobbies, Walking, Cycling, Kayaking and Gang Show. Each of these hobbies has a little tale to tell.

It was scouting that brought out the birth of my love for long distances walking.

 

My first long distance walk was in June 1987, Orwell Walk a mere 25miles aged just 12 & ¾yrs.

 

Sunday morning of the Orwell Walk, our patrol left Gainsborough sports centre, full of beans and other sugary substances we could consume. Following the route, we soon found Trimley Marshes, where we planned to consume our Mars bars and Capri suns. One was melted and the other was warm, but consumed before the return leg from Cordy’s farm. By this time we had covered nearly 13 miles and was on the return leg, when I started to drift off the back of the patrol, eventually we reached the back of Hallowtree campsite and the final check point before the last mile back to the start. I was advised by the medical team to rest, as the rest of the patrol carried on as I said I would rest then carry on.

 

As soon as the group were out of sight, I broke down in tears, fearing that I had failed to reach the end. I was comforted by the St Johns Ambulance medic, who said she would walk me back to the finish. I have learned many things in my life, but this ladies passion to support me and show compassion reinforced my passion to help others. As I arrived at the sports centre my patrol sat there with ice creams as I hobbled in, I just felt huge pride that I never gave in, but pushed myself to finish a challenge.  It’s these challenges in life that make you stronger and I have challenged my body nearly every year since either completing the Orwell walk or something similar in endurance for a charity. It hurts, but that’s now part of the challenge not to ache afterwards.

 

As youngsters we used to cycle to most things, the neighbouring village for paper rounds, school and Tattingstone wonder? If you don’t know what it is, get a bike and an Ordnance survey map and look up Alton Water and cycle around it, let me know what the wonder is… The annual cycle ride on Scout troop night was a highlight. I have never had a great bike(until recently) but we would leave our HQ on Sproughton Road and head to Sproughton, Burstal, Flowton, Sommersham (Duke of Marlborough) for a rest a can of coke and a bag of cheese and onion crisps, before returning via Bramford to the Scout HQ.

I tried this route recently and I’m rather amazed that as children of 10yrs and over, we managed to get around the route within 2hrs including the rest stop of 20 minutes.

 

1) Without injury to ourselves or others

 

2) Mechanical breakdowns of our poorly maintained bikes

 

3) Losing a child

 

But this early riding in my life has given me the confidence to take part in some rather foolish cycle rides. The London nightrider a 62 mile (100KM) ride around London at night has been the toughest, but I feel there is a further ride yet to come, before I get too old...

 

My love of kayaking was born from the Ipswich Boys club, when we moved to Sproughton road, we met a neighbour called Bruce Gant, and he was a retired merchant seaman and Ransoms engineer.  He ran the local boys club, giving boys of most age’s access to football club Ipswich Exiles and other activities. Over a few years, Claus and I convinced him that we should obtain a kayak. We bought a fibre glass boat called “water rat”. It was bright orange and white. We spent ages cleaning it and making sure it was safe, then slowly we self-taught how to paddle and escape if it rolled, in the shallow water at Bramford.

 

It was well into my adult scouting career that another leader Robert and I, learned how to kayak properly. Weekend after weekend we attended Sudbury scouts for training and a test. We passed our 1Start and later I passed my 2 Star this allowed me to take children out on the water for activities. Although a rather daunting prospect to be responsible for someone else’s child, but doing a water activity your sense of care and attention is heightened.  Following several years of teaching children to paddle correctly on many of the waterways around Suffolk, my biggest water experience was going to the World Scout Jamboree in the UK.

 

 July 2007 saw me depart the creature comforts of my home in Chantry to my super deluxe frame tent at Alton Water, Holbrook for an entire month.  The team of scouters from across the world would descend for the month to deliver water activities for 20,000 children from 216 different countries.

 

After  10 days of setting up the water activities site with kayaks, bell boats, rafting, sailing and sit on kayaks, with marquees for changing areas, bus pick-ups and drop offs, safety testing all water craft, we were ready. The most important task during the build was to teach the North Yorkshire contingent where the best curry houses are in Ipswich. This seemed a little wrong as we had the Royal Marines providing three squares a day, but after a barrel of black sheep a night, a curry was required.

 

We settled for the Bekash on Meredith Road, Leaving someone else to order at 23:30 on a Sunday night and agreeing to the rather hefty £30 delivery charge. We waited… Then, the telephone went and it was like watching a fire crew race for a fire, two of the Yorkshire guys jumped into the Petrol powered golf buggy to meet their supper. I knew my order of a single onion bargee was enough for me, as they are huge. Upon seeing the onion bargees the North Yorkshire team were astounded and agreed that the Bekash was the best choice!

 

This World Scout Jamboree Splash event passed with few minor incidents. But you soon realise how dangerous water activities can be. Group after group arrived for Kayaking, having been training for weeks and on home water, I felt that I had a good understanding of the event, but I was going to realise that I become over complacent.

 

My second from last group for the day were a troop from India and Italy. Mixed boys and girls, the girls all wore bikinis and the boys wore trousers and shirts. This was going to be difficult, due to the nature of water activities if the need for rescue it would mean handling the children in bikini’s or fully clothed. The other instructor and I gave our safety briefing and concluded the warming up games and we ventured onto the water ensuring helmets and buoyancy aids were worn correctly.

 

One task during the event was to ensure they took everything out of their pockets, with replies of Yes sir from the Indian boys; we were off on the water. After about 10 minutes we had the group spread as far as you could scatter 10 children and we were racing around like two sheep dogs trying to chorale sheep back into one group when it happened. One of the Indian boys capsizes.  As leader of that group for the session I called for our group to raft up and then went to assist the child in the water.  Seeing the other instructor was struggling to round up the children, we both called for more assistance from another group, while I went to rescue the lad, who was shaken so much from his ordeal and that at least 30 meters from the shore, he wanted to climb into my kayak.

 

If you’ve ever been in a Kayak with a skirt (water tight deck cover) on and someone wants to get in. firstly it is not possible. Secondly the quickest way to rescues someone is to get them calm and back in their boat. This was also Impossible, as he was not listening and getting very close to sinking me as well by trying to peel my skirt off and filling my boat with water not only getting me wet, but prolonging his time in the water.  Things happen so quickly, that I remember my years of kayak training, the rescuers safety must come first, so I introduced my paddle to his helmet. DONK!

 

This got his attention very quickly and instructed him back into the water and to hold onto the nose of my kayak, while I emptied his boat. After two failed attempts to get him back into his kayak (due to his exhaustion trying to get back into my boat) I paddled to the shore with him clinging to my kayak. Never have I been so scared about a child’s life. But the most annoying thing was yet to show itself.

 

When I had assisted getting the rest of the group off the water, we arrived back at the control tent to report back on the incident during the session, he stood there shivering as he had not brought any change of clothes, taking a soggy notepad out of his pocket and a now non-working mobile phone, I threw my safety helmet into the long grass and stormed off in a fit of anger. Why did they say “Yes Sir”, when asked if they had empty pockets? Today’s lesson was “communications/Language is a barrier to a safe and successful event, effective communication is the key to success”.

 

But the World Scout jamboree in 2007 was one of them Shining highlights in scouting where only 70,000 children and leaders can converge on the UK and hold a great event, where friendships and relationships were forged for life. We ate like kings at the Water activities site; the meals consisted of full English, packed lunch and a two course dinner.

 

The first night we were introduced to Sharkey and his crew, he apologised and promised the food would get better, as their field kitchen had not arrived. He opened up the mess tent to reveal Roast chicken, roast potatoes and a selection of veg, with apple crumble and custard to follow. I still find it strange that during that month at Alton Water, where I ate loads, I drank even more beer than I do now, I did exercise everyday with three - four kayak sessions a day, but I lost weight down to my trimmest 19.2 stone in such a long while.

 

Behind all the hype of the World scout jamboree, dark days were looming. I had taken over as Group Scout Leader of the 24^th Ipswich Scout Group, having learned several things during the previous years in scouting as young leader and assistant scout leader then scout section leader. It was the steepest learning curve I have ever had to understand. For those who do not understand scouting, let me explain, in a scout group there are three sections, Beavers, Cubs and Scouts. Some groups care takes a District Explorer section and the larger groups have their own Scout Active Support. These sections are overseen by a Group Scout Leader whose role it to ensure the Section Leaders follow the Policy of Rules and regulations (POR). They also appoint a committee chairman and fundraising committee. The role of this committee is to ensure the financial stability of the group and buildings.  But the buck stops with the group scout leader for all groups if it does not run smoothly. In essence you are the company owner and Chief Executive Officer, with the section leaders being your senior team and so on until you get to the children your employees/customers.

 

 At the time we had a healthy beavers, cubs and scout section and was caretaker to the Viking Explorers (formally 24^th Ipswich Venture Scouts).  This might not seem too much, but none of the leaders are paid and all are volunteers. Therefore you have a business based on volunteers and if they leave the organisation they are not easy to replace. There not on buy one get one free at Tesco’s, as most people seem to think. Being a scout leader takes time, commitment and the love of enjoying yourself and putting someone else’s children first.

 

The 24^th Ipswich was a group that prided itself on being one of the best in old West- New Wolsey District. But there was a long way to go to get the group back to its former glory.

 

Seems simple enough, but I was working at the Port of Felixstowe by this time on nightshifts and running the scout section, and a full member of the Ipswich Gang show, time was very tight and things never went smoothly.  A year into the realignment our annual fireworks event was to see a major setback, as we tried to comply with H&S regulations and Hygiene Laws for catering. This event in the past never raised a fantastic amount, but brought in valuable helpers, but under the reorganisation of the group, each event was required to comply with health and hygiene rules and raise funds for future projects. But it ended in the event being cancelled.

 

Raising funds is a hobby which I’ve become very good at and focused at doing. Our group at the time had a healthy bank account and reserve account nearing £18K, with vital roofing project in the pipeline of around £25K. Every penny counted.

 

Most scout groups don’t own their own meeting rooms, so maintenance is not an issue, so they could survive on about £2,000- £3,000 per year including subs from the children. This lead to a huge amount of stress, as group scout leader the sections would look for leadership and funding for camps and equipment.

The cancellation of the firework event not only caused the leadership team to disagree with each other, But it was when I was approached by a parent whose young child had been in the group for about 3 yrs said” that I was a disgrace for cancelling the event and I had let her down and all these children down, I responded with a quick “well if you feel that way then, maybe you should run the group” within 24hrs I had written my letter of resignation to the District Commissioner and removed my belongings from the groups HQ. Something I don’t regret is leaving that role, but I do miss running the scout section and the fun camps and trips with these young adults. But the stress of it all was becoming too much.

 

I still enjoy Scouting as a member of the SAS, Scout Active Support, providing manpower as and when available to do so. These days it’s normally four days assisting the 11^th Ipswich with setting up and taking down the Christchurch Park firework event, and assisting with the Ipswich Gang show bar. But I do miss those camps and watching the youngsters becoming more independent and learning Life skills. For example, the next time your BBQ table is infested with ants. Place the legs in saucers or cups of water. Clean the table and reset it. You will be ant free as they cannot swim!! (You don’t get taught that at School)

 

Stress KILLS

 

The stress of running a group, doing a thousand and one things was over spilling into my home life, Karen was becoming more and more concerned with the amount of time I would be doing scouting.

 

I would awake from sleep at 05:30 and do scouting and then go to work, only to return home from work and go to scouting meeting or be planning the next fundraiser. Not good for a wholesome relationship.

 

It was just another night shift out of many; I was due at work at 7pm as normal. I joined the A14 at Wherstead and headed towards the Orwell Bridge to Felixstowe, normal route and in plenty of time for a cuppa tea and a chin wag with the other RTG drivers. As always my mind wanders all over the place due to my active life, I was thinking about all sorts, when I drove over the expansion grid to the bridge. The next thing I remember was awaking behind a HGV so close that I could read the part number on the rear axle.  Slamming the breaks on I slowed down and headed to work in a daze. Gathering my things I went to work, where I was told I was a white as a sheet and I should go home.

 

Fearing that I had lost it, I spent the next three hours alone up my crane working hard, while trying to get my mind around what had happened. Eventually I came down for a break and was called to see Mr Mark Ford. Now I know a lot of guys at the port think he is a waste of space, but on that night, I sat looking him square in the eyes for two hours just talking about my fears and the pressures I was under, feeling that I had failed the children and the leaders of the scouts and that I feared that I would do something silly if I drove over the Orwell Bridge again. As I saw no way out of the trouble at the scout group and how to let people down gently, I had failed as I was unable to provide the solution to their worries and issues.

 

But a visit to my GP the next morning confirmed that I was depressed and he raised concern for my mental health and prescribed medication to assist and two weeks sick note.

 

It was late 2007 and I knew that I needed to do something, but what. I visited the Occupational Health Team at the Port of Felixstowe, Barbra and Trish and Beverly where my guiding angels. Slowly they unravelled my mind and helped me review my life. Like this book, it’s amazing how much useless information we keep stored in our brains. But writing it down is important every now and then. This type of therapy worked well for me, as I did not order the prescription of anti – depressant drugs. I sat with my angels and wrote out page after page and page of my life and where I had considered myself a failure.

Failure is a funny word, I had given my all to the 24^th Ipswich scout group, I did my best!  But I considered myself a failure for not being able to single handily lead them from a tricky period to security.

 

But having time off work and scouting gave me time to refocus on life, what I needed to do to relax, and where I wanted to go in the future. Sea Fishing is such a great way to relax. Trust me give me 200 lug worms 6hrs on a windswept beach with my fishing rods in hand and I’m as calm and collected a person as I could be.

But the stress caused me to consider ending my life, because I could not cope with letting people down. But through some vital people helping me and realising that that’s not the right way to deal with it. I’m here to tell the tale.  So if your ever feeling low or under pressure at work. Feel free to give me a shout, as I know where there are plenty of fishing rods waiting for a trip to the coast for a spot of fishing for relaxation.

 

The stress of life is damaging enough without our human minds confusing it even more, just remember two things.

 

1. You’re not alone, there is always someone who will sit and listen to you witter on about your problems and give you some clear sound advice.

 

1. You’re not a failure in life! Life is difficult, whether it’s sick children, work pressures, or any other issue. Stop what your doing take a deep breath and look back at why you think you’re a failure. Then rearrange the workload to give you some ME time back.                                                                        

 

Trust me, it works and I owe a lot to so many for my troubled time.