Victor Wakefield, 1926 - 2024

 JULIA SPENCER-FLEMING: You may have missed the news in the comments section, but our own Celia Wakefield's beloved husband Victor died this past month, at home in bed, at the age of 98. He led an amazing and rich live in his almost-century, and this morning, instead of a recipe, Celia is sharing a few - there are so many! - Victor stories.

 

 

It's Julia's week which seems to say it’s Celia's Sunday. Julia suggested that while I had written so much about my own childhood perhaps it was time to tell some of Victor’s early tales. 

 

Where to start? Of course, how did we meet? I had recently joined IBM UK and was at the Data Processing Christmas Party held in the pub across the road from IBM UK HQ. (IBM was a dry company worldwide, in fact they were ahead of the current trend). I was feeling very nervous finding myself a part of a group around the managing director (UK speak - CEO). Someone came and stood between my friend Audrey and me. “Hello, Vic” said Audrey and introduced us. However, Victor told a different tale. He always insisted he had seen me from across the room and asked who I was. On being told I was a new secretary - "and I hadn't a boy friend," Victor like to add as he replied then, "Well she does now!" Knowing the person he had been speaking with I disagree. There are some things one didn’t discuss at work. But you be the judge as to which version seems most likely.

 

Victor grew up in circumstances very different from mine. He was a life-long asthmatic. This served him well as he turned eighteen in 1944. He was called up to fight in the Second World War, but due to his health was never sent to the front. Instead, he was placed in British counter intelligence. On testing he proved adept at foreign language, so was learning Japanese when the war ended. As he still had to complete his three years of national service, he was posted first to India, where the saying was, “Those who hold the Red Fort (large military complex in Delhi) hold India.” The transfer from British to self rule was, as Victor wrote, “A turbulent and terrible time.” The work involved retraining of thousands of jobs done by the British now to be done by the Indians. Victor spoke very little of his actual work. I would imagine he had to keep listening for possible sedition but I have no proof. 

 

The scanned version is scratched, alas...

Victor loved to talk about his seven sweeps of the scythe. Opportunities which might have ended in disaster but from which he was saved by unexpected help. Here is one that has disaster written all over it. After the monsoon season Victor heard of a remote hilly area where a profusion of spectacularly colored butterflies hatched only at that time of year. Riding on a narrow dirt road he veered too close to the edge over a deep drop into the ravine below. His motorbike swerved off the path and hung over the drop. He was stuck. The bike was army issue so losing it was out of the question, but it was heavy and there was no way to maneuver it back onto the path. Then his luck changed. 

Along the path came two Indian men who, seeing Victors predicament, ran to him and were able to lift the bike and pull Victor back to safety. 

 

The screen shot version is blurry!

From India Victor was posted to Nairobi, Kenya. Among his responsibilities was teaching the “Kenyan Askaris” to be smart and effective soldiers, which included learning how to ride motor-cycles. This involved a lot of merriment on the troops account. They referred to the motor-cycles as piki-piki, in Swahili from the motor-cycle sound. 

 

Victor had several adventures or Swipes in Kenya. I think this one scared him the most. One night he drove his jeep into the bush to look at the stars. Turning off his headlights to scan the heavens, he was horrified to find he was being watched by hundreds of pairs of eyes. Reversing quickly, headlights on again, he fled back to civilization.

 

Victor was a man of many talents and hobbies. He liked to tell friends that he had been active all his life from the early gift of a bicycle from a Canadian soldier. He rode miles over the South Downs above Brighton. He loved to play tennis and one friend wrote of his determination to win (though in a most gentleman like manner.) He had great pleasure trying to play with our grandson in 2021 even though it was hard to swoop around the court as he had in the past.

 

His retirement work centered around mechanical clock repair and rebuilding until he had his cataracts removed, which altered his shortsightedness. He was an avid gamer, researching century old games which he would build to play with kids. He was a clown. Yes, he went to clown school! He was a photographer and returned to the immediate pleasure it gave him through his iPad - instant gratification. He would take photos of breaking news on the TV. I think this helped him to cement the event as he knew his memory was failing. 

 

Victor and I bonded over my love of the Beatles whose lyrics he told me reminded him of Elizabethan madrigals. We loved music, particularly classical, and Victor studied and played an Alto recorder with our daughter Olivia, who played the soprano version before switching to flute. He was a founding member of the Recorder Group here at the senior college at USM. Looking back on our almost 60 years together I realize he has left me a gift. Time to spend now on pursuing some other interests of my own - though I know I shall still be cooking. In fact, I am finding that cooking for one isn’t as bad as I thought, so perhaps that will be my topic if Julia invites me next time. 

JULIA: Oh, you know there will be a next time! Dear readers, what are some of your stories about loved ones now passed?