This was the title of the eulogy that I wrote for my mother’s funeral service, in 2006. I spoke about her name which was often a mystery to me, as are many family names from the past and the different ways in which people used their names, and others used, differently.
Grace Ethel Lena Wilcox was always called Etty by her mother, Grace Wilcox. Her nephews and nieces called her Aunt Etty, and her sisters shortened it to Ett. In polite company, not when she was with family or close friends, she was always introduced as Grace. This formality/informality was something that I observed throughout her life. I am uncertain where her mother got her name of Lena from, but I believe it was popular at the time of her birth. It is a derivative of Helena (“shining light”).
She was born on 11th April 1915 and would therefore have been 111 years old on Saturday at the weekend. The same day as this year’s Grand National which would have been a regular event on her calendar to have both a flutter and an afternoon in front of the television to watch the race. As the wife of a Turf Accountant, the racing calendar was an important part of her life. She had a wonderful array of tips for finding the winning horse in most races which included always betting on the only grey horse in a race (all the better to watch its progress in the race) and if you were betting on a handicap race, betting on the horse in the very middle of the race card ( in the belief that that if the handicapper had got their statistics correct then all the horses should cross the finishing line at the same time). At her funeral there were representatives from her local betting shop present. They had collected money for a charity that Grace wanted contributions to instead of flowers. Grace was well known in the betting shop, having a small flutter each afternoon and keeping a daily record of her wins and losses in a notebook. She would often tell me about how well her year was going by the latest balance in her notebook.
Grace was a photogenic woman and the legacy of photos that I have, show sometimes glamourous version of the mother that I knew and probably took for granted.
This was taken in 1932 when Grace had turned 17 years old. Three months after her birthday she ran away with Bill Carver who was three years older than her. I have never been told the details of their marriage but there must have been some dissent from their parents for them to do this. They arranged to be married in Reigate Registry Office where their witnesses were two people who were invited off the street, I am told.
Grace’s parents had arrived in Caterham, Surrey, from Acton in London to run a dairy business. They had left Grace in lodgings in Acton at the age of 15 or 16 so that she could complete her secretarial studies at college. Grace became homesick and arrived in Caterham to help in the dairy. She met Bill at Army Camp dances on a Saturday.
Grace and Bill lived together all their lives and celebrated their 60th wedding anniversary when they moved to sheltered housing in Eastbourne, Sussex. They had seven children. Their first born was Ken who was born in 1933. Grace would have been 18 years old.
This picture, probably taken by a street photographer, is Grace who is looking obviously pregnant with her first child. With her is her sister Dorothy who was probably 7 or 8 years old at the time. Grace and Bill were living in Edmonton, North London, at this point, close to her parents.
Grace was the eldest of four sisters. Her sister Dorothy, in the last picture, was 17 when she was married in 1943. Here she is with her sisters, Grace is on the far right.
Seven years later Grace had also given birth to her first daughter, Jill, and this photo was taken in 1940, probably a studio picture.
In the 1940’s Grace and her family like everyone else was trying to survive the Second World War and many of our family photos from after the war were all about family gatherings. This picture shows such a meeting with her older sister Rene and mother Grace Wilcox. Standing in the front is my brother Peter who might have been about 8 years old. This dates the picture to around 1950.
Grace and Bill had many occupations after their marriage; nearly all were self employed occupations. Their lives turned around after they had been running a café on the Brighton Road in Redhill. During this time Bill had been running an illegal book at the back of the café, taking the occasional bets from customers. He decided to become legitimised and became a licensed Turf Accountant, a position he maintained from 1948 until he retired in 1980. The 1950’s were a period of arrival into the nouveau riche.
This obviously posed photo was taken at our family home in Ladbroke Road, Redhill, when Grace and Bill had occasional cocktail parties which we, as children, were all hidden away from upstairs with our mother bringing plates of canapes up to us to keep us happy.
Retirement came in 1980 and Grace and Bill moved to Lower Kingswood where they occupied themselves with a brand new hobby that was very typical of my mother. Car boot sales.
Grace specialised in two things. High quality shirts that she sought out at jumble sales. She would make any necessary repairs and replace the odd missing button. After that they were laundered and hung on railings that she took with her in the car, what she had bought for as little as sixpence or a shilling, she was able to sell for a £1. In Reigate, the art school students would search out the collarless shirts that were very popular in the 1980’s. the other thing she specialised in was pickled onions and marmalade which she knew could make a good profit on for a small outlay. She once told me that she was making about £70 profit on a thirty-pound outlay. Every week, on a Sunday.
Grace was very involved with the British Legion Women’s Section and often made things for the fund-raising sales. An amateur quilt maker, she made many for the Legion’s sales and auctions.
Photo courtesy of the Surrey Mirror. This quilt appeated as a news item because it raised £250 in an auction for The Royal British Legion (about 1990)
After her husband died in 1996, Grace lived a long and useful life in Eastbourne, looked after by her family, especially her two daughters. She was always involved with her community and went walking every day wherever she could. Frequently taking a bus to the sea front to walk the promenade to Holywell. This was probably the last photo that I took of Grace when we were walking alone on the front that day.
I never knew my mother without either a full-time occupation or actively fund raising for local organisations or just being very involved with something. The week before she died, she had phoned me to tell me what her plans were for the week. She completed six days of that plan but then collapsed and ended her last two days in hospital where she died peacefully.
Grace had connections from the late 19th century with her mother and died in 2006 having left a family dynasty that stretches now into five generations.
A star, in the firmament.
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