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T h e O l d S t a t i o n e r - N o 7 8<br />
RoBiN JAMES uPHiLL<br />
AuGuST 1944 – SEPTEMBER 2013<br />
Robin died on September 9th from liver<br />
cancer at his home in Colombia.<br />
He left Stationers to join Mac Fisheries<br />
in Wood Green as a trainee manager after<br />
being asked by the careers officer the<br />
standard “Have you considered banking<br />
or insurance?” Having progressed to top<br />
management via situations including<br />
Wilmslow, Oldham, Leeds and Harrogate,<br />
and not wishing to progress to head office,<br />
he joined Courage Breweries and managed<br />
many public houses and restaurants. Some<br />
Old Boys came across him I know in a<br />
few of these in the City. A later enterprise<br />
was a sandwich business. Retiring from<br />
this, Robin moved to Colombia where I<br />
visited him only last year. His partner<br />
William and the inhabitants of Palmaseta,<br />
the village to which they retired, will miss<br />
this colourful character but no more than<br />
his family and old friends in England.<br />
John Ivey<br />
BESSiE SHoPLAND MARTiN<br />
1916-2013<br />
The funeral service of Bessie Shopland<br />
Martin - 6th August 1916 to 21st<br />
September 2013 - took place at Slough<br />
Crematorium on Friday, 18th October,<br />
2013. The service was taken by the<br />
Reverend Sally Lynch, who also gave the<br />
address. The hymns sang were 'The Lord's<br />
My Shepherd, I'll not want; He makes me<br />
down to lie In pastures green; he leadeth<br />
me The quiet waters by', 'Love divine, all<br />
Terry Bailey with Stephen's daughter Thia in 2007<br />
Bessie Shopland Martin<br />
loves excelling, joy of heaven to earth<br />
come down' to the tune Blaenwern and<br />
'Guide me, O thou great Redeemer,<br />
pilgrim through this barren land' to the<br />
tune Cwm Rhondda. The opening music<br />
was 'I'm Forever Blowing Bubbles'<br />
followed by sentences frrom Scripture and<br />
Welcome and Prayer. A Poem 'The Dash'<br />
was read by Dylan Grimes, followed by<br />
the Eulogy by Gill and then a further<br />
poem 'Death is Nothing At All' read by<br />
Pauline Gardiner. After the last hymn,<br />
there was the commendation committal<br />
and final prayer and blessing, with the<br />
closing music, 'In the Mood' by Glen<br />
Miller. Refreshments were served at the<br />
Norfolk House Hotel in Maidenhead.<br />
Eulogy by Gill<br />
My Mother was born in the middle of the<br />
First World War, in a small village called<br />
Hinxworth on the north edge of<br />
Hertfordshire. Her Mother's father had<br />
been the village baker, and supplied many<br />
local hamlets in his pony and trap.<br />
However, he died relatively young and left<br />
a few debts. So his new son-in-law Robert<br />
Kelland became a tenant farmer and lived<br />
there for nearly a decade to clear these<br />
debts. He was the one who insisted on her<br />
name, Bessie Shopland Kelland, which<br />
was pure Devonshire. She was always<br />
known as Bess, being named after her<br />
father's mother, who had died in an<br />
accident when he was only eleven. His<br />
family had lived at Middlecott Farm in<br />
Morchard Bishop, which is on high<br />
ground halfway between Exmoor and<br />
Dartmoor. My grandparents had actually<br />
met at Kintbury Fair.<br />
Her mother, Ettie Eugenie Sale had beeen<br />
a monitor teacher at Hinxworth Village<br />
School, where Bess started school at five.<br />
When she was seven, the family moved to<br />
Bowes Park in North London, where her<br />
father returned to his original trade, and<br />
ran his own butcher's shop; must have<br />
been a bit of a cultural shock! But Bess<br />
thrived in the competitive atmosphere of<br />
the large Tottenhall Primary School, and<br />
this is where she met her friend Doris,<br />
who was later her bridesmaid and my<br />
godmother. Bess, herself, loved sport, a<br />
sprinter, took up gymnastics, played tennis,<br />
table tennis and hockey. Her secondary<br />
school was Minchenden Grammar in<br />
Southgate. English was Mum's forte at<br />
school, and she could churn out poems<br />
with a comic twist. She quickly picked up<br />
Pitman's shorthand when she left<br />
Minchenden at sixteen and wrote all her<br />
diaries in shorthand so a mystery to me<br />
when I was turning out her house a few<br />
years ago.<br />
She had a few different jobs, but when she<br />
married my father, Jack Martin (1910-<br />
2008) in 1937, as a woman, she<br />
automatically had to resign from her post<br />
at the electricity board, which she had<br />
really enjoyed. Jack and my mother had<br />
met at a large multi-family picnic and I<br />
think she had impressed Jack with her<br />
technique of getting over a five barred<br />
gate. Jack was equally energetic and<br />
eccentric so they were probably ideally<br />
suited from the start.<br />
A genuine people person who would help<br />
to cheer up anyone when they were a bit<br />
down. Her sense of humour was legendary<br />
and she loved a good rolling laugh, and I<br />
would add 'a cup of tea'. She was a strong<br />
character, and a positive support to Dad<br />
and me. Those piercing blue eyes were<br />
pretty good at making a sharp assessment<br />
of people and situations.<br />
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