Extraordinary LIVES
HAVE you lost a relative or friend in recent months whose life you’d like to celebrate? Our Friday column tells the stories of ordinary people who lived extraordinary
MY LOVELY husband Bill was quite eccentric, so we called him the mad professor! He’d often hide away in his studio to work on his hobby of photography or go somewhere quiet to read books on Egyptology and astronomy. He had a lot of hobbies, mostly solitary ones. He was an introvert, while I’m an extrovert. But they say opposites attract, and it certainly worked in our case. Bill was born into a poor family in North London. An only child, he lived with his mum, two aunts and grandad in a small house with no electricity, indoor toilet or proper kitchen. But he was the centre of his family’s world and felt safe and secure once he shut the front door. At 14 he begged his mother for a telescope, and though she earned only half a crown an hour as a cleaner, she bought him a brass instrument, which he cherished all his life. He won a place at Highbury County Grammar School, but didn’t flourish because of his shyness. When his form master told him he’d never achieve anything in life, he proved him wrong by passing seven O-levels. He was awarded a prize, but wasn’t allowed to collect it because he had a haircut like a
brush and wore beetle crusher shoes and yellow socks — all against school rules! We met at church, St Mary Magdalene in Highbury, when we were both 17. Bill was working at Islington Town Hall, and I’d moved to London from Sussex, was living in a girls’ hostel and working in an accounts office. Bill was an atheist then and only came to church to argue about faith, but I won him over and he became a believer. We married three years later. Once our three children — Deborah, Matthew and
Philip — had gone to school, Bill encouraged me to find a fulfilling career. He was ahead of his time as he didn’t think women should stay at home. I trained to be a midwife and then a nurse. Later I was ordained as a non-stipendiary Anglican priest. When Bill took early retirement from his local government job at 48 due to ill health, I became the breadwinner. He developed a passion for rambling and was proud of walking the length of Hadrian’s Wall — twice. Bill developed Alzheimer’s and it was a dark time for the family when he had to move into a care home. But his faith never wavered and I know it comforted him. ‘I pray for you every day,’ he told me, and I replied that I prayed for him, too. It was a bond between us that began as teenagers and lasted until the end. I was fortunate to have him back home with me for the last year of his life, and that’s where he quietly passed away.
▪ WILLIAM THOMAS JENNINGS, born May 30, 1938; died February 22, 2019, aged 80.