So began another phase of my life back in civvy street and 21 years old By then the new housing estate at Harold Hill was completed and my dad was working for Rotary Hoes at West Hordon as a lathe operator and he got me a job there as a radial drill operator on permanent nights I did not really like the work and my truck driving bug was calling.
It was during this time that Nobby Gubb got married to Avril Lewis and I was best man at this wedding. Avril's father used to drive a van as a salesman for Goulding where Nobby used to work.
I stayed at this job until my father died on the 2Oth October 1955 in Oldchurch Hospital from a large malignant brain tumor, he was always complaining of headaches but on his last check-up there was no sign of a tumor (so the doctors report showed) but looking back in retrospect I sometimes wonder if this pain could have been the cause of his violent temper sometimes.
There is no excuse for domestic violence but it could have been a reason and he used the booze to try and deaden the pain.
I used to go and visit him but seeing my father go from a 16 stone giant to a bag of bones in a short space of time after his operation has put me off hospital visits and I only go if it is necessary.
Because there was no such thing as savings in our house the problem arose about the cost of the funeral as my mother had no money but luckily his work mates had a collection at work and got enough money for the funeral and a headstone on his grave, he was buried at St Katherine's Church on Canvey Island in a double plot. Sadly to say I had no remorse or wailing when my father died, to me it was just another death, looking back in retrospect maybe I was a bit hard on him as he did try his best with his limited education, we never went hungry and always had a roof over our heads and I can never recall him ever being out of work and he always worked hard.
At this time my mother, who was now only getting a widows pension became a foster mother for Dr, Banardos Home and used to care for young babies (usually colored), she looked after these for a couple of months and then got another one to care for.
Then she was given a six month old Jamaican baby called Rosie Isaac's and then when it was time for her mother to take her back she did not want her as she was a single nurse and did not want the responsibility and just disappeared so my mum wanted to adopt her but as she was a widow they would not let her so she became a foster mother instead which involved regular visits from the inspector checking on Rosie's care.
When Rosie grew up she used to dread these visits as she thought that the inspector might say that my mum was too old to look after her and take her away.
Rosie stayed with my mum until she was 18 and got herself a job and began to buy her own house.
Pat by now had some kids and became insanely jealous of Rosie because she thought my mum was giving more attention to Rosie instead of her children but as mum said Rosie only had her to rely on.
Rosie has never tried to find her real mother because as she said her mum is Mrs. Terry who loved her and fed and clothed her all her early years.