Anne Evans (28 May 1934 - 27 Jan 2021)

We had a wonderful day for the burial. we were friends and family of hers, folk who have lived alongside her for very many years. And whilst we all regret her dementia and death, we celebrated her wonderful spirit....... in the sun!

I gave a eulogy...... I say I gave it as I spoke it. But it is essentially a compilation of comments from those who loved her. Here it is:

My mother was unique and special. She was caring, fun, intelligent witty and always humble. She was great company. She had a moral core. Her beliefs and values were fundamental to everything about her. They centred around honesty and caring for other people and animals……. notably cats of course. She had almost limitless compassion for the suffering of others. But what was particular about her beliefs was her determination to live up to them in every thought and deed. This was her integrity. And whilst she always believed in getting along with others, and was often considerate to a fault, she did not compromise her values.

You have all seen the biography on the website ………………… and since I posted it, I have received a huge richness of observations and recollections …… ……by friends and relatives some of whom are here today and some of whom are not. Today I am going to share some of these wonderful messages.

Lots of people would have liked to come but have been unable to. Rules and safety concerns weigh heavily. However, it is really great that we have not just her grandchildren and partners, but some special friends of hers. And longstanding and loyal friends they are. Bill worked with her and took her to visit gardens, Eric played music and went to concerts with her and Simon gardened with her and played a part with her in the life of Queens Park. But the relationships were so much more than that. And she got to know Brett and Nigel too.

My comment about her early life struck a chord. Her cousin Delyth wrote: Her father was definitely unconventional. I have a story about Newton and Anys (that is Anne’s parents) going to a harvest supper when Newton was still a minister. They arrived on a tandem, rather inappropriately dressed, and a little bit tipsy! There were certainly a few raised eyebrows among the straight-laced chapel goers!’ Delyth goes on to describe an auction of the harvest festival produce where Newton was the auctioneer…….. it did not go well!!

An unconventional upbringing is fine, as long as it leaves you supported and ready for the world. However, I am not sure that hers did. I think of her aged just 19. Married. Having just become a mother. In a psychiatric hospital. But I never got any sense that she held anyone responsible for her difficult early life but herself. As Eric observed,’ she judged herself more harshly than she did others.’

And as we all know, she minimised her achievements and the importance of what she did. Yesterday, I received a letter from Alan Jones and he wrote: ‘I remember Anne very well from the time we worked together in NW London District of the Factory Inspectorate. She worked hard as an inspector and I am sure that as a result of her diligence, many injuries have been prevented and the health of workers has been improved.’ And Bill wrote: ‘Anne looked after Heathrow Airport, which was a specialised industry activity in itself and the biggest in the UK, employing about 70,000 people. Anne was extremely knowledgeable about the structure, practices and work activities of the civil airport sector. As a result she would have been consulted by colleagues about the industry’s safety standards and practices.’ You will not be surprised to hear that I never got any sense from her that her work was as important as that. I only recently learnt that it was!

Music was a great love. Characteristically, she played down her skills. She was a professional musician. Bill comments: ‘I know that she loved going to the Wigmore Hall and hugely appreciated chamber music…... She never mentioned the real level of her music proficiency, let alone playing the clarinet & her life in the WRAC.’

She was a loyal friend. Eric recalls a conversation with Anne about someone who was making his life very difficult. He says: ‘Anne’s answer, which endeared her to me for ever, was simple: ‘I’ll duff him up for you’. I believed her too.’ ……..and we all have stories about her care for us and for people in general. I recall that she took the difficult decision to consent to my taking over the running of her finances when she had been visited at home by people from an organisation asking for a significant sum of money. They said that if she did not pay up, people in Iran would lose their life. For her this was an almost impossible dilemma - she was tortured by it.

On a brighter note, her positivity was an example to us all. Her cousin Mary says: we all have so many happy memories of her and her sense of humour - she could find the funny side of most situations which is a huge talent to possess. If things were going wrong for her she would just say "oh well" and have a little laugh.’

Her environmental commitment was unwavering. For example, she vigorously campaigned against HS2. But the thing that made her environmental commitment special was that she not only believed it, but she lived it. I know the story about the funeral director being flummoxed by the specification of a cardboard coffin raised a smile among most of you. As Mary says, ‘True to her environmental principles as always.’ Sadly we could not quite honour everything she wanted due to COVID restrictions. But we nearly did. And isn’t it great to be enjoying a woodland burial. ………. as she had planned it

She was committed also to her community. And was given a number of awards for it. Characteristically, she never quite accepted that she deserved this appreciation. Simon is a fellow Queens Park gardener who enabled her to carry on doing what she loved despite her diminishing mobility. He received an email received after an unexpected award at a Queens Park event. I will try and do justice to her turn of phrase - I know I’ll not succeed but I will do my best. She said: ‘I apologise for being so totally gobsmacked on Saturday that I didn't thank you properly for all your kindness. I am just as gobsmacked today but must thank you for letting this wobbly old bird fall about in your now-great garden. So lots and lots of thanks for lots and lots of reasons from Anne.’

 
Carole always appreciated Anne’s love of words, of poetry, of books. Some grandparents when visiting bring a toy but for Anne it had always to be a book. She was fond of Carole, and used to say to her of me, with a bit of a twinkle in her eye, ‘I don’t know how you put up with him.’ She didn’t mean it……… I think!! And when she and I were talking she would say,’ you did well marrying her!!’

Toward the end of her life, she was less independent and was reliant on Mel, her carer. They got on like a house on fire. However, my mother was never comfortable with anybody doing things for her. I often found myself saying to her that she needs to allow Mel to do the work that she had been employed to do! Of course, I might as well have saved my breath! Anne was constantly telling her to sit down and have a cuppa! On one occasion when Mel was under the weather and needed to get to the chemist to pick up some medicine, my mother said. ‘I’ll get it for you!’

Even at Ebury Court, despite her dementia and limited mobility, she would say. ‘I want to do something useful. I want them to give me things to do!’ Enjoying being served by others was completely anathema. ‘I’ll do anything,’ she said. ‘I’ll scrub the floors!’

We miss Anne. We miss her warmth and care for others. We miss her humour. We miss her passion for music. We miss her wonderful way with words. She was unique and very special.

And she lives on in those she left behind. She had a very special bond with James and Katie. She helped them both achieve their ambitions, supporting them in a range of ways. At a time when her dementia would have stopped almost anyone else from trying, she was still trying to develop further her French which was already at a high level. She would often seek help from James. And I know she saw herself in Katie in many ways. And I see my mother in them both in different ways. She was enormously proud of them both. And indeed she lives on not just in them but in all of us who were touched by her life in so many ways

As her friend Sydney says: Rest assured that Anne lives on vibrantly in my mind as a good friend, a warm and lovely person. She will be long remembered and long loved.’

With our love.

a favourite poem was Skimbleshanks, which was inscribed on a mug given her by Eric. Even when dementia had taken hold, and there was little she could remember, she would recite this with love and gusto:

SKIMBLESHANKS
THE RAILWAY CAT
by
T.S. Elliot


There's a whisper down the line at 11.39
When the Night Mail's ready to depart,
Saying "Skimble where is Skimble
has he gone to hunt the thimble?
We must find him or the train can't start."
All the guards and all the porters
and the stationmaster's daughters
They are searching high and low,
Saying "Skimble where is Skimble
for unless he's very nimble
Then the Night Mail just can't go."
At 11.42 then the signal's nearly due
And the passengers are frantic to a man--
Then Skimble will appear and he'll saunter to the rear:
He's been busy in the luggage van!
He gives one flash of his glass-green eyes
And the signal goes "All Clear!"
And we're off at last for the northern part
Of the Northern Hemisphere!
You may say that by and large
it is Skimble who's in charge
Of the Sleeping Car Express.
From the driver and the guards
to the bagmen playing cards
He will supervise them all, more or less.
Down the corridor he paces
and examines all the faces
Of the travellers in the First and the Third;
He establishes control by a regular patrol
And he'd know at once if anything occurred.
He will watch you without winking
and he sees what you are thinking
And it's certain that he doesn't approve
Of hilarity and riot, so the folk are very quiet
When Skimble is about and on the move.
You can play no pranks with Skimbleshanks!
He's a Cat that cannot be ignored;
So nothing goes wrong on the Northern Mail
When Skimbleshanks is aboard.

Oh, it's very pleasant when
you have found your little den
With your name written up on the door.
And the berth is very neat
with a newly folded sheet
And there's not a speck of dust on the floor.
There is every sort of light-
you can make it dark or bright;
There's a handle that you turn to make a breeze.
There's a funny little basin
you're supposed to wash your face in
And a crank to shut the window if you sneeze.
Then the guard looks in politely
and will ask you very brightly
"Do you like your morning tea weak or strong?"
But Skimble's just behind him
and was ready to remind him,
For Skimble won't let anything go wrong.
And when you creep into your cosy berth
And pull up the counterpane,
You ought to reflect that it's very nice
To know that you won't be bothered by mice--
You can leave all that to the Railway Cat,
The Cat of the Railway Train!

In the watches of the night
he is always fresh and bright;
Every now and then he has a cup of tea
With perhaps a drop of Scotch
while he's keeping on the watch,
Only stopping here and there to catch a flea.
You were fast asleep at Crewe
and so you never knew
That he was walking up and down the station;
You were sleeping all the while
he was busy at Carlisle,
Where he greets the stationmaster with elation.
But you saw him at Dumfries,
where he speaks to the police
If there's anything they ought to know about:
When you get to Gallowgate
there you do not have to wait--
For Skimbleshanks will help you to get out!
He gives you a wave of his long brown tail
Which says: "I'll see you again!
You'll meet without fail on the Midnight Mail
The Cat of the Railway Train.



The end

I remember my half sister Anne as she looks in David’s photograph - as a young woman in uniform. In our early years we each grew up leading separate lives in different countries and my first memory of Anne dates from her WRAC days when our father returned to the UK for a few years and Anne visited us with her clarinet. She was enormous fun to be with and was very much team leader of her much younger half sister and brother.

I got to know Anne better when she went to university at the same time as I did. She was a truly remarkable person, initially leaving school with no qualifications and then, as a mature student, having both the intelligence and determination to get her A and S level qualifications and a degree in Economics. This was followed by a successful career with responsibility for airport safety at Heathrow. During this period of her life Anne visited her father in America - he always spoke warmly of these visits which I believe gave them both a lot of pleasure. He was also very proud of her achievements.

Anne was bright, witty and good fun to be with. She was very gifted in her ability to play the clarinet and I remember her lifelong passion for music and her regular trips to Wigmore Hall which were so important to her.

I will remember Anne in later life as she looks in David’s other photo intently reading the Sunday papers. My children also have very fond memories of their Aunt Anne and my husband remembers her with great affection. We will all miss her.


In loving memory donation made to Alzheimer’s Society.

We both shared a delight in gardening and I remember fondly our several trips to Hampton Court Flower Show. From Bill.

Anne was a delightful person to have known as a former work colleague and as friend. She was warm, self-effacing, sometimes wry, witty and with a hugely generous and compassionate spirit. Bless You Anne. From Bill.

Anne was a delightful person to have known as a former work colleague and as friend. She was warm, self-effacing, sometimes wry, witty and with a hugely generous and compassionate spirit. Bless You Anne. From Bill.

In loving memory from Cousin Gareth

Dear FOPG,
I apologise for being so totally gobsmacked on Saturday that I didn't thank you properly for all your kindness. I am just as gobsmacked today but must thank you not only for letting this wobbly old bird fall about in your now-great garden but also for showing me how spectacular dark red roses are - I never knew that. - Now I look at them again and again; they are absolutely gorgeous. So lots and lots of thanks for lots and lots of reasons from Anne

Such a pleasure to have known you, Anne.

I first met Anne in the City Lit chamber music group supervised by Bryan Fairfax. We soon discovered that we shared a particular love for the music of Francis Poulenc, though we disagreed about orchestral music and opera, both of which Anne disliked. At the time I was going through the breakup of a relationship and my unhappiness must have shown at times, though I tried to keep it to myself. Anne picked up on it and at some point, while we were all drawing breath between movements of a piece we were playing, she asked how I was coping with the travelling from Bucks into London. I explained that I’d invested the funds from my London flat in our new home and that I no longer had the wherewithal to move back to London as my ex-partner refused to sell. Anne’s answer, which endeared her to me for ever, was simple: ‘I’ll duff him up for you’. I believed her too.

Here are a few more memories. Before Anne moved to the Ilbert Street flat, she had a room on the first floor of the Warwick Farm Dairies’ building, overlooking Elgin Avenue. Heath
Robinson could have learned a thing or two from the way she had organised her living space. To the left of the door were washing and cooking facilities. Books and records were neatly stored along the left-hand wall and her bed occupied most of the length of the room just beneath the window. Anne’s engineering masterstroke was a system of frames covering the entire ceiling area. They could be lowered and raised by pulleys and cords and from them were suspended multi-coloured items of freshly washed laundry. The only time I ever knew her to surpass that achievement was when she constructed an intricate wooden climbing frame for one of her cats, possibly Jemima, in the back garden of the Ilbert Street flat. When I mentioned it to her a year or so before her move to Ebury Court she had no recollection of that wondrous construction.

Anne had well-hidden criminal tendencies, as I discovered during frequent visits to art galleries. We never left the Tate Gallery on Millbank without ‘nicking’ (her word) at least one masterpiece – preferably a 20th Century English painting or sketch by the likes of John Piper or Paul Nash - to be smuggled into an imaginary van parked outside. Countering that tendency, she gave generously to various charities and was a loyal ‘punter’ at the Wigmore Hall.

In my mind, there’s a blue plaque above the entrance of the concert hall dedicated to Anne.