Raymond William (Ray) Hammond (20 Jul 1935 - 14 Jun 2026)

In loving memory of Raymond William (Ray) Hammond who sadly passed away on 14th June 2026
Always in our hearts

A Celebration of a Creative, Loving, and Vibrant Life

Raymond William Hammond was born in July 1935 at East Cliff in Dover. When World War II started, the Hammond family relocated from the frontline of ‘Hellfire Corner’ to Buckland Avenue—where, except for his mandatory national service, Ray stayed for the rest of his life.

Encouraged by his parents and teachers, young Ray developed a lifelong love for natural history. Exploring the world around him, forbidden bomb sites became places of adventure, exploration, and artistic inspiration. He spent hours observing nature and sketching what he saw, already displaying the curiosity and talent that would remain with him throughout his life.
His mother told neighbours “My Raymond draws all the time on anything to hand, even the handles of the table knives” Most recently it was sketching on kitchen roll.

As a mischievous choirboy at St Andrew’s Church, music became another thread in the fabric of Ray’s life. He appreciated a vast variety of songs, ranging from the religious to the “naughty.” Ray would sing and whistle anywhere and at any time until his final days, even once singing an impromptu folk duet with a fellow supermarket shopper.

His artistic skills were further developed at the Sydney Cooper Art Centre, and art remained one of his greatest passions. In the 1950s, Ray completed much of his mandatory National Service in Hong Kong. After extending his service by a year, he remained on the army reserve and never tired of sharing memories from his time overseas.

Back in civilian life, Ray worked for the Co-op, where he met his lifelong friend, Brian. He won awards as a window dresser and single-handedly designed and built the Co-op’s much-loved annual Christmas grotto. At the age of 32, Ray left the Co-op to become a full-time artist, beginning with a one-man show at Deal Library. His reputation grew through exhibitions in London, Manchester, and other major towns, and his work was chosen for the Free Painters and Sculptors tour of France in 1969.

Later, Ray joined the Dover Harbour Board (DHB) as a traffic marshal, or a “Penguin,” as they were affectionately known—a job that allowed him to work busy summers and paint through the quieter winters.

Ray and I met at the Dover Priory Hotel folk club in the spring of 1975 when he asked me to model for him. We quickly became close friends, sharing many interests despite a 21-year age difference. That friendship blossomed into love, and by October 1975, we were married. It was the beginning of a wonderful journey with a creative, talented, loving, and supportive man whose good humour, kindness, and smile touched many. Yet beneath the wit and warmth, Ray retained his military posture and self-discipline until his death.

We both loved nature and walking. We cherished early starts and long country walks, coming home tired, hungry, and content to breakfast on beef sandwiches made with warm, homemade bread and ice-cold beer by an open fire.

Over the next few years, Ray became known as the “Birdman of Buckland Avenue.” He worked alongside local vets and the RSPCA to rescue injured wild birds, nursing many back to health to release them into the wild. He even took fledglings to work in his inner coat pocket so he could feed them during his long shifts at the DHB. Ray also helped RSPCA teams rescue oiled seabirds stranded along the coast between Folkestone and Dover.

Our home became a mini zoo, filled with the obligatory dog, reptiles, small mammals, recovering wild birds, escaped budgies, and the occasional bat. Ray’s love and knowledge of wildlife made him a local legend and earned him a Radio Kent interview where he gave advice on pets and fireworks. Ray used his practical skills to improve our home and continued filling it with his amazing art, as well as writing crazy verse and poetry (with a few pieces published).

In 1982, approaching 50, Ray became a father to our beautiful daughter. Despite his initial nervousness about the role, he proved to be a kind, caring, fun, and crazy dad whose humour always made her classmates giggle.

Eventually, Ray began working full-time as a Penguin, which took a toll on his health. Over the years, his inner strength and resilience pushed him to quietly survive several health crises. Ray devoted himself entirely to his family, animals, art, and garden. He encouraged our daughter to love and respect nature—even breeding rescued budgies to teach her about life. Recognizing her innate artistic and creative skills, he supported and encouraged her throughout his life.

After retiring from the DHB, Ray became an actor-host at the White Cliffs Experience as ‘Captain Crusty’. At the age of 60, he became a student at EKC Dover, finishing with an A grade in A-level art and mastering basic computer skills, despite being a technophobe.

Finally embracing full-time retirement, Ray remained incredibly busy looking after our teenage daughter, pursuing his many hobbies, and holding one-man art exhibitions in Dover, Deal, and Folkestone. He and Brian enjoyed a shared interest in antiques, vintage goods, and curios—a hobby that I later shared with him as well. We travelled to various venues, buying, selling, and collecting many treasures.

At the age of 80, Ray became a grandfather, teaching our grandson silly sayings and mad songs as he grew.

During his retirement years, he faced many serious health scares when I feared I would lose him. However, each time, through sheer grit and determination, he fought to regain his health and refused to surrender to old age. Aged 82, he even laid a new carpet in the hall, stairs, and landing while I was in the hospital!

Despite his increasing frailty, and with only the aid of a homemade walking stick, Ray remained active, helping with housework, climbing the stairs, writing crazy poetry, and sketching. He tended to his collection of personally grown bonsai trees and his much-admired front garden until the day he passed.

Ray kept his mad sense of humour, wit, pride, dignity, inner strength, and determination to the end, absolutely refusing to “let the old man in.”

Don’t let the old man in
I wanna leave this alone
Can’t leave it up to him
He’s knocking on my door
And I knew all of my life
That someday it would end
Get up and go outside
Don’t let the old man in

Many moons I have lived
My body’s weathered and worn
Ask yourself how would you be
If you didn’t know the day you were born
Try to love on your wife
And stay close to your friends
Toast each sundown with wine
Don’t let the old man in

Toby Keith ‧ 2019