Ray Mason 1932 - 2019

Today we said goodbye to my Dad.

As we grew up he often told us that he wanted his last journey to be on the back of a Hayward's lorry. Today his wish was granted and I don't think I can thank J Hayward & Sons enough for everything they did to make that request come true. Thank you from all the family for making my dad's send off a truly special event.

In addition Emma from Floral Exuberance  came out with an outstanding floral tribute to Dad that he would have thoroughly approved of.  

I think it's fair to say that we gave Dad a really good send off. Rest in peace Dad.

This is the  eulogy I delivered today

"Dad, Ray, a Father, grandfather, great grandfather and as is widely accepted, awkward at times and totally his own man.

When putting this eulogy together I could only think that Dad was largely defined by his hard work and more importantly, the haulage business, hence the unusual transport for him today.

 Thank you to Haywards Transport and in particular Brendan Hayward for enabling Dad to have a wish granted, as we grew up being told that when he left us, he wanted his last journey to be on the back of a Haywards lorry.

Dad and his sister Margaret were born in Aldridge and sadly lost their Father when they were just 5 and 6 years old. They knew hard times growing up. With little money available for them Dad was expected to earn his keep from a very young age.

Age 7, he would rise early on a Saturday, get the first bus into Walsall and then two more buses to Dudley Port, to Hadley’s Dairy, owned by his ‘Auntie’ Amy. He worked all day  and then returned home to his Mom, handed over the shilling he had earned, receiving a penny back in return. 

On his 12th birthday during WW2, his Mom told him the time for schooling was over and he should get a job. He did, fetching and carrying parcels, large and small from Aldridge railway station and delivering them. So began his career in haulage.

It must have been around this time that he learned to drive, as there is a picture of him driving at Kingstanding carnival,  with his trademark mop of floppy, curly blonde hair.

But I’ll let you into a secret. Dad never actually passed his driving test

Because he never took one.  

He was in Essex at 18 starting his National Service. Around that time the old Driving Licence Office in Essex burnt down and all records were lost, so Dad used this to his advantage and got a driving licence. 

In the army he learned to drive a lorry.

What I didn't know until  after his death, is that Dad actually served five and a half years in the army. 

Something he kept to himself but then Dad kept a lot of things to himself or rarely spoke of them, for example, he never talked about being the Army Boxing Bantamweight champion.

According to his discharge documents Dad was a good driver who displayed initiative and always had his vehicle clean and ready. Not so much himself though because there follows the  remark that he could be clean and tidy when he wanted to be.

Dad had the rank of Gunner in the army and saw service in the Korean War, something he never spoke about except to say that when the guns started you kept your head down if you could.

He made lifelong friends during that time too and they did get up to some high jinx. One of my favourite stories is how he and three mates went out for a drink one night and having imbibed a little too much found themselves in danger of missing their curfew. Opposite the pub was a post office delivery van. In the struggle to gain entry one of the van’s doors was removed. Dad being the most sober drove the four of them back to barracks in the van minus one door, where they abandoned it and made their curfew.

After  national service, Dad worked as a lorry driver but he was ambitious and decided he would seek his fortune in Canada. Passport duly obtained he went for a drink one night in Aldridge Labour Club and saw a young woman on stage singing. 

He told his drinking partner that he was going to marry that young woman. 

She was of course our Mom, out celebrating her 20th birthday on 23rd April 1957. Dad never went to Canada as just three months later, they were married.

They were together for 54 years before Mom left us in 2011. An event that Dad never got over.

Dad continued lorry driving for a couple more years before his potential was realised and he became the manager at Sammy Jones’ new office in London. A few years later he went to work at J Hayward & Sons in Walsall, a relationship that continued until the day before he suffered his stroke on 7th February, when he had gone in for his regular couple of hours to shred paper. It meant he kept in touch with the company and also with the girls in the office.

Dad was always busy and always out in the evenings. In his time he was secretary of the regional branch of the Institute of Traffic Administration, secretary of Aldridge Labour Club and also held other committee positions in various local clubs including the BRD and McKecknies and finally Chair at Aldridge Conservative Club. He also had a long association with Darlaston Town Football Club and we all shared happy times watching them play and usually lose, at grounds all around the Midlands and further afield too.

Dad was like a walking road map of Britain. If you said you were going somewhere he knew the best route. 

And

What he didn’t know about Aldridge wasn’t worth knowing. He had a story for everyone he had ever known who had lived there and he could tell you who ran what shops when, who had lived where and who was, in his words ‘yampy’ or not worth knowing. 

One day I was telling him about the 1939 National Register and he wanted to see who he remembered as living in Aldridge back them. 

Don’t forget he was just 7 in 1939. 

So I gave him the name of one person in one house in one road in Aldridge. To my amazement he then went along whole streets, telling me who lived where and who they were next too. As I followed his memory on the register, he got everyone right, nobody was missed. What a memory.

Dad loved animals and in particular dogs and horses. The ashes of his last dog Sam are being buried with Dad today along with roses from the garden where Mom’s ashes were scattered, so they can all rest together. 

My sister Nicola tells a story of learning to ride a horse at the farm of friends over in Essington one Sunday morning and Dad didn’t like the way she was being taught, so in his Sunday best suit, he climbed on the horse that was bare back and proceeded to show them all how to ride. 

That farm was also where another much loved dog called Snoopy came from. Mom had already said no to having the dog but Dad clambered up the hay in the barn where Snoopy had been born and he was brought home. On the way, Snoop did what dogs do and messed in the car and then he was placed on the floor in the kitchen, fleas jumping from every hair. Dad, Stewart and Nicola all waited with trepidation to see what Mom did. Mom fell in love with him as we all did.

As I’ve said, Dad always worked hard, providing for his family, being prudent with his money “How much? I aye payin that!” 

I remember him doing a long day at the office and then going out driving lorries at night so that he could pay for me and Nicola and Stewart to go on school trips abroad. We never wanted for any of the essentials whilst growing up, we enjoyed good holidays and he was always there for us when we were older and a crisis occurred and we needed a bailout loan.

It is fair to say that Dad wasn’t very good at showing his feelings but we all knew how much he loved Mom and in later years when finances allowed, he showered her with gifts of beautiful bespoke jewellery which she adored. They had their bad times but somehow always came through them and I remember that on holidays, when Dad was at his best (well except for the palaver of finding free parking spaces because he would never pay for parking) they were always laughing together.

Dad was forthright with his views and opinions and was never scared of voicing them. As one person said to me recently, he called a spade a spade. As a consequence, everyone knew where they stood with him. This was in marked contrast to how he was after his stroke, that robbed him of his speech for such a long time. Several nurses on the ward asked if he had always been so placid, which amused me no end, as placidity was not a word ever associated with Dad. Grumpy git maybe but not placid!

The other thing everyone commented upon was his smile and how lovely it was. Just like Mom. They both had incredible smiles.

In later years his Grandchildren brought much joy to his life. He loved seeing them all. He always had advice at the ready for all of them but with Jack, the youngest, he took a keen interest in his footballing exploits, telling him that he needed aggression when playing, not just in his feet but in his head.

And in the final two years of his life Dad had the pleasure of enjoying his one Great Grandchild, Zion. Zion brought a lot of joy to Dad who was a different man after seeing him, whistling, singing and telling me time and time again, what a lovely lad he was.

There are many things I will miss about Dad. Sometimes his requests were weird. ‘Erm Linda?’ ‘Can you get Aiden to pop to the chippy and get me roe and 7 chips’. ‘7?’ ‘Yes, 7, are doh want more’.One day back in April when Dad was starting to regain some of his speech he wanted something. It took us half an hour to understand what he wanted and yes, it was roe or fish and 7 chips.

Dad was decent, hard working man who could be cantankerous and argumentative but he had a kind heart and would always help someone out if they needed it. Last Christmas at Dad’s request I put together a hamper of Christmas goodies for a friend of his who had been and was seriously ill. Dad got a taxi and took it around to him just before Christmas Day.

He was a one off and we’re all going to miss him but at least he is now reunited with his beloved Barbara. Long may they both rest in peace."