Ronald James Smith was born in Kennington, south London, and lived in that area for much of his early life. He was one of seven children.
Growing up in the war years and just after is very different from today. Dad left school at 14. Over the years he has dropped a few things into conversation. He was made head boy. It was suggested he should consider further education. It makes you think his life could have been very different if he had had the same opportunities as today.
Instead, he left school and had a number of jobs before doing his National Service, which he considered a total waste of time except for the amount of football and cricket he played!
It was during this period that he met Maureen – Mum – by walking into the girls’ dormitory while on a youth group weekend, though he always insisted it was a mistake. The girl who told him off ended up being the girl he married!
He was only 20 when they married, but they had 60 very happy years together, and everything they did was a joint enterprise……..apart from sport!
Dad’s favourite job as a young man was as a milkman, but Mum found out from a friend that if he got a job as a bank messenger he could get a mortgage. Typically Dad put his family first and gave up the job he loved.
The first house they bought was in Barnehurst, very different from their life in Camberwell, surrounded by family. At one time in Camberwell they lived in the same road as both of Mum’s sisters, her mother and her aunt.
In his early 30s the family moved to Welling where he spent the rest of his life. Dad provided his five children with a very happy childhood. He was busy at work and around the house but there was always a lot of fun and laughter. Always practical, all our gardens benefited from Dad’s inability to sit still when visiting.
His faith came late. My wife Cathie and I remember him asking us about becoming a Catholic after his eldest grandchild Tim (our firstborn) was baptised. In fact Dad was already active in St Stephen’s Parish before he became a Catholic. He helped paint the old school when I was a child, but now he became much more involved in St Stephen’s as a parishioner. He became a collector and helped set up many events in the church hall.
This was of course in keeping with his charity work, both with Contact, where he drove elderly people to meet for tea and a chat once a month, or especially his many years as driver of the Greenwich and Bexley Hospice van, and his massive behind the scenes work at Hospice fun days. Fun runs, bus pulls and anything else he could do to raise money to get the hospice built.
Although I’ve talked about Dad behind the scenes, he had no trouble being front and centre. In the St Stephen’s Drama Group he loved to lead the choruses in Old Time Music Halls. But it was in the pantomimes that he really excelled – Dad was good…….and he knew it.
Sport mad and famously active he was still playing golf and table tennis in his 80s and snooker until just a few months before he died. Dad embraced new technology. He was an avid user of WhatsApp often sending messages to individual grandchildren about their team’s results, as well as enjoying the banter on the ‘Big Family’ WhatsApp group.
He was mentally active until the end. He was still doing word puzzles a few weeks ago, and, when he could no longer write well, answering crossword clues for my sisters to fill in.
Dad was a smashing father, a brilliant father-in-law, a loving husband, a close and supportive brother and a dutiful son.
But his main joy over the last 45 years can be summed up in one word: Pop.
If you were one of Pop’s grandchildren you were plonked on his knee as a newborn, then carried around, pushed on the swings, taken swimming, and to the park. Growing up he came to support your sports games, dance shows and school plays. He played cards and board games. He admired your photos, was proud of your achievements and even went to hear your bands play. You knew you were getting good at table tennis when he stopped letting you win, and then you struggled to beat him.
19 years on, you plonked your newborns on his knee and it started over again. We often play ‘guess who’ when looking at old photos of Dad with a baby because there are 27 possible answers!
He had a long life, well lived. He loved deeply and was deeply loved. You can’t do much better than that.