‘IT’S AMAZING TO HEAR MY FATHER DESCRIBED AS A NATIONAL HERO’ Hannah Ingram-moore on the inspirational Captain Sir Tom Moore
The incredible fundraising effort of Captain Sir Tom Moore has inspired hope across the world. In this exclusive interview, his daughter Hannah Ingram-moore talks to Ella Dove about her extraordinary father, who bought a treadmill at the age of 99
The sight of the then 99-year-old veteran Captain Sir Tom Moore walking determinedly up and down the garden path of his home in Bedfordshire has become a defining image of the Covid-19 pandemic. His fundraising efforts have inspired the nation, raising almost £33m for the NHS to date. He has been given the status of honorary Colonel, received an RAF flypast for his 100th birthday, topped the charts performing You’ll Never Walk Alone alongside Michael Ball and is now writing an autobiography, which will support the launch of his new charity, The Captain Tom Foundation. He has also been awarded a knighthood.
Sitting by Sir Tom’s side through every accolade and interview is his daughter, Hannah Ingram-moore. Tom has lived with Hannah and her family – husband Colin and children, Benjie, 16, and Georgia, 11 – for the past 12 years. ‘It’s amazing to hear my father described as a hero of the pandemic,’ she says. ‘And it’s justly deserved because his positivity has touched so many lives. He’s not a natural talker, which you probably wouldn’t imagine, but he does love being around people. He’s overwhelmed by how the world has taken him to their hearts and I couldn’t be prouder of him.’
Hannah and her older sister, Lucy, grew up in Gravesend, Kent. She describes her childhood as ‘warm but disciplined, and full of wonderful times’. Having been demobilised from the forces in 1945, her father moved straight into civilian life, studying a marketing diploma before becoming managing director of a concrete pipe and block manufacturing company in Greenwich. Through work, he met Pamela, 15 years his junior and the office manager at the firm. They married when Tom was in his 40s.
‘His military career felt like a distant memory when we were children because he’d left 30 years earlier,’ says
Hannah. ‘He still had his
uniform and ran the annual reunion for his Yorkshire regiment, but that was my only real sense of his past when growing up.’
Hannah’s family were ‘a very tight unit’. ‘We did everything together,’ she says. ‘We would pile into the car for the summer holidays and he would drive us across Europe. We camped in France, Italy and Spain, and had amazing adventures that will be seared in my memory for ever. We spent a lot of time running around in the Yorkshire Dales, where my father grew up and my Auntie Freda still lived, and had brilliant days out. I remember one day, he just said “let’s have ice cream in Covent Garden”, so we got in the car and did.’
CAN-DO ATTITUDE
Her father’s outlook, she says, set the tone for her life: ‘He always had an incredible work ethic, and my sister and I were given that can-do attitude. He would always tell us “best foot forward” and encouraged us to take responsibility for our actions and happiness. His drive and ambition shaped us from an early age. We never felt that boys were at an advantage; being girls was irrelevant. He told us never to worry about what anyone else thinks. The important thing is to be who you believe you can be.’
From her mother, Hannah learned kindness. ‘She taught us to think about others; to listen, to learn and be mindful,’ she says. ‘She was such a gentle, decent person. She’d been brought up to be not terribly confident, and was pretty fearful of many things, but Dad bolstered her confidence so much. She relied on him for a lot of emotional support, which he gave her in bucket loads. He doted on her and treated her like a princess, bringing her tea in bed every morning. They had great fun. If he’d fallen asleep in the chair, she would tie his shoelaces together. They were always giggling.’
Pamela’s health started to decline 20 years ago, and her devoted husband cared for her for two years before she moved to a care home, where he visited her every day. After her mother died in 2006, Hannah didn’t want her father to be on his own, and so he agreed to move from Kent to Bedfordshire to be with her family. ‘Since he moved here, we’ve grown closer,’ she says. ‘We sit together for hours on end, learning about each other. I think that’s one of the real luxuries of living with a parent later in life: you find out so much more about them. They become less a parent, and more just part of the family.’
Georgia, Hannah’s youngest child, has always lived with her granddad. ‘Uniting three generations has been amazing,’ says Hannah. ‘Colin and I run our own business from home, and I would put the pram with Georgia asleep in it in Dad’s room while I was working in our office next door to the house. When she got bigger, he’d do cutting and sticking with her, and both children spent happy hours in his shed with him, fixing things, or in the greenhouse growing tomatoes. They enjoy showing him their world, too: he has an iphone and an ipad, and he’s been a real steadying force for them; stoic and kind with a twinkle in his eye.’
Tom was an active part of the household, taking out the rubbish and mowing the lawn. However, aged 98, he fell while
He’s overwhelmed by how the world has taken him to their hearts
unloading the dishwasher. ‘I was in London for work when I received a call from Benjie,’ says Hannah. ‘He said, “Mum, you need to come back now. Granddad’s just fallen. It’s bad.’’’
Tom’s injuries were serious: he had fractured a hip and broken a rib, which punctured his lung. He also had subcutaneous emphysema, meaning oxygen was leaking from his lungs and into the layer between his skin and muscles. His family gathered at his bedside, having been told to expect the worst.
However, amazingly, he rallied. ‘When he came out of hospital, he had lost a significant amount of independence,’ says Hannah. ‘We installed a stairlift and he had to use a walking frame for the first time in 98 years. He was frustrated by his lack of mobility, but determined to regain it. A year later, in 2019, my husband called to say a treadmill had been delivered.’ Unbeknown to the rest of the family, Tom, at 99, had ordered it for his rehabilitation.
As Tom’s mobility increased and his 100th birthday approached, Hannah and her family discussed how they could mark the occasion. ‘We were sitting outside having a barbecue and Dad was walking up and down with his sunhat on,’ she recalls. ‘My husband suggested he try to do 100 laps, and we’d give him a pound a lap for charity. Ever disciplined, Dad was keen to take on the challenge.’
INCREDIBLE IMPACT
When lockdown hit, the family set up a Justgiving page for the NHS, pushing the target to £1,000. ‘The head of marketing for our business sent out a press release,’ says Hannah. ‘All of a sudden, Three Counties Radio and Anglia TV, then BBC Breakfast picked up the story. After that, things escalated.’
For Hannah, both everything and nothing has changed: ‘We’re just the same family, but the money raised will drip into corners of our NHS that have probably never had it before, putting wi-fi into wards, giving patients ipads to communicate with loved ones and creating pods where exhausted doctors and nurses can sleep. The incredible impact he’s had is almost impossible to think about. It makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.’
But the best thing of all, she says, has been seeing her father flourish through love and generosity – people from more than 160 countries donated on his fundraising page. ‘Life is all about purpose,’ she says. ‘As children, he gave us purpose and now he has given that to others. I look at him and see a new person, re-energised by the waves of love and gratitude that have come back to him. He’s taken it all, quite literally, in his stride.’
To support The Captain Tom Foundation, visit captaintom.org