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A change forever for our Rona

Hello again. Now I come to a part in our lives when they would change forever. It was around 4.30am one June morning in 1992, and it was a lovely morning and being June it was light with a faint hint of sunlight, and I was awakened with, what seemed to be a long distance away. calling my name.

A voice,

I eventually realised it was not a dream and I ran to the bathroom and there my lovely Les was lying on the floor in horren- dous pain, his head bleed- ing from where he hit it on the bath as he collapsed, I managed to get in there, I grabbed a lightweight duvet to cover him then I rang for an ambulance which arrived quickly and they seemed to be sitting outside our drive for ages before they drove off with him to the hospital.

Of course I realised later those were the crucial mo- ments the ambulance peo- ple took were saving my Les’s life.

The total desolation I felt after he had been taken away, well! I cannot even begin to describe it; my Lovely Les was fighting for his life in hospital. I telephoned


around 6.30am I did not like to do that too early, but she was soon by my side, and yes in so many ways she still is. It is really lovely and re- assuring to know that my two stepdaughters, my son, and myself still do get on so very well together thirty five years on and continuing.

30 However weeks went

by and Les was improv- ing, he still enjoyed taking our black Labrador for his leisurely walks every day, and the exercise was good for Les too, and Yes! We still had our lovely lives to- gether, and I was still work- ing but only part now (just four hours each morning for five days). We were still very happy with our easier lifestyle, and I could never ask for a nicer, more caring and easy to love man, he was so very patient with the tests and things that he had to en- dure.

His heart attack I believe was extremely serious, and he coped with mountains of pills each day, but you know I never remember him “moaning” about any of this.

I am, as promised show- ing you a few photos of us with the grandchildren, a couple are taken at our daughter’s home in South Wales, Linda had taken Les and me there for a ‘day out’ I am holding the two little girls, one was Hannah and the other was Alex, born within a couple of months of each other, and the other one of me holding Alex with Les standing behind me. Poor old Les seems to be looking up at the sky for some kind of assistance, we laughed many time at his expression in this one. You will notice from the

little photo that I am show- ing to you of Les, poor old lad he did begin to look a little older after his ordeal but he would not give in to

Australian minister has Wellington roots

Dear Editor, writes Geoffrey Gold of Melbourne, Austral- ia, I am researching one of Australia’s interesting early political leaders, Mr John Basson Humffray, who was a democratic agitator on the Victorian goldfields and became the first Minister of Mines in any of the Austral- ian colonies.

In the census of 1851, Humffray (a solicitor’s writ- ing clerk) and his younger brother

Frederick, were

lodgers at 21 Walker Street, Wellington. This was the home of Mr John Revell Phillips, his wife Jane and their daughters Elizabeth and Jane.

In 1852, John Humffray (previously of Newtown, Wales) married Elizabeth in the Parish Church, Wel- lington. They migrated to Melbourne, Victoria, on the Star of the East in 1853. I’m wondering if any of your readers might be re-

lated to the Phillips and had any family records of Eliza- beth and John.

One mystery about the Humffray brothers I’d like to clear up is why they appear to have changed their name from Humphreys when they left Newtown for Wellington. Perhaps someone could identify

also the

house as mentioned. (EDI- TOR: Can you help? Then please write to The Welling- ton News.)



His condition eventually took its toll, his breathing became erratic, and on this particular morning which was Sunday, I helped him with his breakfast most of which he did not really want at all, it seemed that all and everything was far too much trouble for him, all he wanted to do was try to sleep, and this was such a trial to him also.

Now I will finish here and tell you more next time as you can probably im- agine, I am feeling just a little upset at this moment in time.


The writer of the letter Once upon a time a 1930’s tale, has written in response to the letter from Max Plimmer. Originally the memories of MY Chirstmas was written for my family because I felt that they were special. One of them suggested that others might find them interesting because they were unique. Neither I, or the Welling- ton News, suggest that they were typical of the times. The title supplied by the pa-

per shows that. Perhaps Max Plimmer would like to collect and share the memories of his remaining relatives and friends who were around in the ‘30s, and tell how they enjoyed Christmas in their way, so that

the younger

readers of the paper do not assume that everyone’s fa- ther had a Daimler car and a granny with a cook, ate chocolates and wore frilly dresses. He can make them

his Social Statement. I did not intend one.

Thank you, Editor, for your kind invitation to write more of my memories of trips in the Daimler. Perhaps one day I will, but I would prefer to write of the lives of two of the Yorkshire masses and their struggles to be- come able, later, to provide jobs for more of their kind so that they could live more comfortable lives, e.g. Olive the cook.

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