It must be Forty years since I last had contact with John ( and Edwina ) and though one loses contact with friends, in the back of your mind you always think there out there “somewhere”. So it was with great sadness I learnt through the wonders of the internet that John has died.

Its probably true to say that for both of us it was our first friendship. I was four and John was three.

We were both part of a great exodus from the bombed out buildings and prefabs of East Ham. The council in their wisdom and foresight had acquired land in the countryside near Brentwood in Essex and had built an entire estate complete with all amenities. The homes were offered to young families and must have seemed like paradise . We moved into 44 Eastham Crescent  and John’s family into 42. The year was 1954.

As we grew up, we did all the things the kids of our generation enjoyed, playing in streets, exploring woods and parks, making bows and arrows and catapults. We’d go over to the local dump and find an old pram and use the wheels to make what we called “ Jiggers” probably a Cockney expression.

one of my earliest memories of John was when he was around five or six. He had on him a pocket watch I guess given to him by a relative. We were round on the green just around the corner and John showed it to boy named Peter Elliot. Peter’s eyes nearly popped out of his head and he said to John. “ Will you swap your watch.....I can show you a dead rat “  What boy couldn’t refuse that ? so John handed over the watch and off we went to have a look. Shortly after we went home and it couldn’t have been more than 30 seconds when I saw  through the front window, John’s mum storming round to Peter to retrieve the pocket watch !

In the early sixties as families became more affluent cars started to appear on the estate. My Dad had got himself a Mark 2 Consul which then was quite a big car. We were going on a camping holiday to Devon and because we had the room John came with us too which made us both excited. In those days with no motorways it took all day to get to the West Country so we set out at 2-30 am. As we came off the estate, Dad stalled the engine and it took several attempts to get the car going again. As we drove off I looked at John who had turned white and he said “ I thought for a minute we weren’t going on holiday”

In our teens we did what lads did, I had acquired a Ford Anglia which John with his mechanical knowledge, had souped up with a bigger engine, wide wheels etc . Again the pair of us went on holiday this time to  the surfing beaches of Cornwall. No doubt inspired by us both being big Beach Boys fans at the time.

All my memories of John are good ones and I’d like to share a photo taken in my back garden around 1960 just a couple of buddies......