Frederick Feeney (24 Feb 1936 - 18 Oct 2020)

In loving memory of Frederick Feeney who sadly passed away on 18th October 2020

Fred was born 24.2.1936 into a large family in the East End of London. Fred’s father, Alfred, was one of eight children and his mum, Elsie, one of nine. Like many families of the time it was a large family brought about by tragic then happy circumstances. His dad had been married to Edith, who, having already given birth to four children, sadly died along with a fifth child whilst in labour. Edith’s sister, Elsie, later married Alf to help raise the four children, and they went on to have a further nine of their own - Bob and Christine, the last remaining, and June, Marge, Jimmy, Alf, Arthur, Gwen, Elsie, Flo, Ellen and Emmy, all Fred’s siblings.

Early life at 176 Beaumont Road was not always easy. Fred told of how the dinner table was an upturned bath, that would then be flipped over for cleaning themselves. How they only had an outside toilet, the smaller children slept 4 to a bed!

After Fred’s father, Alfred, passed away in 1951 at the age of 63, his mother, Elsie had the huge responsibility of bringing up a large family with little in-come, and this caused great hardship, especially for the younger children.
Small in stature at 5’6”, Fred had a keen mind and passed his 11+ to go to grammar school. However, he left at 14 when his father died to help bring an in-come into the family. This work ethic and desire to provide for his family remained with him for the rest of his life.

Fred spent his National Service in the RAF, a period of his life that he looked back on fondly…albeit he often joked that he never actually made it onto a plane, as his days were spent at a desk sending everyone else overseas!

Fred had an interest in figures and found himself in positions focusing on Accountancy. It was in 1966 that he made what was considered a very daring and somewhat irresponsible move (so he was told by his future father-in-law George) to a new American Oil Company called Amoco who were one of the first companies to drill for oil/gas in the North Sea. He was one of the first intake of UK nationals to join the small team of 50 American staff and what a great move that turned out to be. He made many friends and grew with the company as it became a mighty force, before being taken over by BP. His career gave him the opportunity to travel, and his trips to Dallas, Chicago and Miami especially cemented a love for the USA.

Fred, ever the accountant and having made sure he was financially secure for the long future ahead of him, retired early in 1993. He didn’t give up entirely, as he took on the role of Financial Governor at Priory Preparatory School in Banstead, the school to which both Ross and Simon attended in their early years. He really enjoyed his time being involved in something close to his heart.

Back in September 1967, Fred had married Lynda, and subsequently made the brave step of leaving Leyton, his family and the football team he followed for many, many years, and moving south of the Thames to set up home, firstly in Addington Village, then Ashtead, Epsom Downs and finally, having separated from Lynda, Banstead. Having grown up in such tight surroundings, living by the open fields of Epsom Downs in a large house was something Fred took enormous joy from and pride in.

Fred didn’t have many hobbies as such but did love pottering in the garden and greenhouse and did have success with tomatoes, melons and cucumbers, along with homemade wine!

Back in 1972/73 he’d fulfilled an ambition to fly a plane and was given a course of flying lessons at Big-gin Hill. He thoroughly enjoyed the experience, but after an over-enthusiastic instructor decided to do ‘loop de loops’, Fred emerged as green as the grass, and that was the last lesson he ever had!!

When living on Epsom Downs, he took up horse riding and took great pleasure in hacking through the heathland of Headley and the fields of Epsom Downs, sharing in the joy with Simon (Ross tried it but was less keen). After a long hiatus Fred took up riding again, finding an opportunity to help exercise retired racing horses. He was excited by this thrill until one day he took out a horse that was too lively for his expertise and his riding career came crashing down – literally.

Fred enjoyed listening to classical music and became a firm fan of Andre Rieu, spending hour after hour watching his concerts on repeat on the tv. He was thrilled when Ross took him to the O2 arena to see a live concert, although his excitement waned slightly when realising the number of stairs he had to climb!

Fred was a man of few friends, but those he had, he held close to his heart. His dear work colleagues, John Anderson and John Boucher became great friends, alongside David Rawlings, a man whose company Fred enjoyed just as much as leaning on his DIY expertise to help with the household maintenance!

Generally, Fred was a quiet and gentle man. Cross him and he could be a little grumpy and stubborn. He took great pleasure in sending some “strongly worded letters” when he felt he or his family were being wronged but meet him on the street and you’d think of him as a kind, friendly, albeit slightly shy person.

Fred couldn’t have been happier when he welcomed the arrival of his two sons - Ross in 1977 and Simon in 1981 and spent the rest of his life focusing on their future - he ensured they both had the best education he could afford and encouraged and enabled them to follow their passions.

Fred was a loving grandad to his grandchildren Mia & Max, always ensuring the tin of pic n mix sweets was well stocked for their visits. His illness may have prevented him forming a bond with his latest granddaughter Elodie, but his failing memory did at least allow him to feel the joy of learning of her impending arrival on a number of separate occasions!

Fred will be fondly remembered by many for his kind, thoughtfulness and generosity. His dry, cheeky sense of humour remained with him throughout his life. In his later years he was happy to sit spending much of his time in his worn old armchair living the twilight of his life, content in the knowledge he had provided for his children and grandchildren, fulfilled his goals in life, happy to let time gently pass him by.