The Queen of Dudley, who was a star on The Generation Game . . .
BRITAIN is full of unsung heroes and heroines who deserve recognition. Here, in our weekly obituary column, the moving and inspiring stories of ordinary people who lived extraordinary lives, and who died recently, are told by their loved ones.
My mother renee never had a piano lesson, but as a youngster she learned to play by ear. And on September 2, 1945 — the day World War II ended — she brought her street in West Bromwich to a standstill.
When the news broke, my 18-year-old mum got her three strapping brothers — she was the eldest of six — and some friends to take the family piano out into the street, and she started playing and singing popular tunes of the day such as happy Days Are here Again and the White Cliffs of Dover.
In the end, hundreds of people turned out, with the street closed off for more than an hour.
Charismatic and with a wicked sense of humour, my mother was a law unto herself, defying her parents to get married in secret. my father, Karol rzepkowski, was a Polish soldier who’d come over to fight for the Allies after the Nazi invasion of Poland.
they met at a dance at the local community centre. the band was playing Glenn miller’s In the mood as he asked her to dance.
he was in his uniform — she always liked a man in uniform — but performed the traditional Polish Poker Dance, rather like Irish line dancing. this made her laugh and soon his warmth, kindness and carefree ways captured her heart, so she took him home to meet her parents.
her father, though, refused to let a Pole through his door and would not countenance them getting married.
Few women back then would have dared go against their parents’ wishes,
but my mother knew my dad was the one for her. And she was right — they were together for 45 years until his death. But they had to wait until she turned 21 to marry and didn’t need parental permission.
There were just two Army friends of my dad’s as witnesses, and they could scarcely afford a celebratory drink afterwards.
When they went back to my grandparents, her father said: ‘I told you not to bring that man to my door again.’ Mum replied: ‘He has to come back now — he’s your new son-in-law.’
Life was tough — within two years there were three children, twin boys and then me. We were living in one room and Mum had to use a friend’s oven to cook — the Sunday roast would not be served until 7.30pm because she had to wait our turn for the cooker.
Sadly, they experienced some discrimination as a ‘Polish’ family — not least from neighbours who showed their dislike by cutting down Mum’s washing line on several occasions, leaving clean clothes on the ground.
My parents were hard workers — my father did long shifts at a steel rolling mill, and Mum was a machinist spring-maker.
And she was soon playing the piano in local pubs to earn extra. She became a local celebrity who could go into any pub in West Bromwich and be assured of a double brandy or Irish whiskey on the house. We called her the Queen of Dudley.
Her fame grew when she later appeared as a contestant on programmes such as Family Fortunes and The Generation Game — the TV people said her bubbly character was made for television.
On Family Fortunes, Les Dennis persuaded her to sing Pennies From Heaven. Her favourite moment, though, was when Jim Davidson said to her: ‘I hear you love a man in uniform, Renee — I’ve got a special one for you.’ And in walked Blakey from the hit comedy On The Buses. Even as life got easier, she never forgot how difficult it could be for others. One neighbour, Mary, struggled to make ends meet with five kids. Unknown to us, my mother brought Christmas gifts for the children for years — until one day, years later on Christmas Eve, carol singers knocked at the front door. It was Mary’s kids — all grown up with gifts and flowers to say thank you for all she had done over the years. I never saw my mother cry — but she did shed a tear then.
After my dad died in 1993 she was, for a time, a shadow of her former self. But being Renee she carried on — still the mother figure to her six kids, 11 grandchildren and 11 great-grandchildren. She lived at home until she died at the age of 90 — as independent-minded as always.
Irene (renee) rzepkowski, born January 16, 1927, died March 18, 2017, aged 90.