And finally these are my words for my lovely Dad.
John Woodgate
by his son Mike.
Dad was born on the 18th of September 1934 at Glenhurst Road
in Southend. His father Ernie was a printer and his mother Julie,
was a housewife, who had in her earlier days played piano at
silent film cinemas in London. They had moved out to Southend
like many other East Enders for a better life. Dad was followed
by my Uncle Alan in 1939.
As war loomed, Dad attended St Mary's Primary School in
Prittlewell, while there in 1940 he made a lifelong friend in Ken
Monger. The war years saw my Grandad Ernie serve in many
theatres of War such as Egypt, Italy and Germany. Dad spoke
of watching aerial dog fights over the Thames from the upstairs
windows and collecting shrapnel on the beach. He was
evacuated to London and then Long Melford in Suffolk. Nan
stayed in Southend with Uncle Alan.
After the war, life resumed. Grandad went back to work and
never went abroad again. He had seen and done what he
needed to do. Dad got a place at Southend High School for
boys and showing an early streak of single mindedness and
determination he left without taking any exams. He wanted to
be an engineer and got an apprenticeship at Westcliff Motor
Services, mending and occasionally driving buses. National
Service was spent in the Army driving lorries all over the
country.
By now Dad was going out with my Mum Pat. They had met at a
youth club and became dance partners. Mum said she had first
noticed him when he was a part time worker at Peter Pan's
Funfair. He would hitch hike down from his Army camp to see
her when she was in hospital with TB. Their love strengthened
and they were married at St Mary's in Prittlewell on the 15th of
December 1956.
By now Dad had realised that working in a freezing cold garage
wasn’t for him. He took a series of evening classes and gained
qualifications that far exceeded what he could have achieved at
Southend High. He started working for Marconi's in their
drawing office and stayed with the company in various jobs for
the rest of his working life
.
Early married life was spent living with Mum's father John and
her beloved sister Val. Eventually enough money was saved to
put down a deposit on a house on Ashingdon Road in Rochford.
It was the only house they ever owned, and they loved it
dearly. I came along in July 1963.
My life was filled with love - Mum and Dad were kind, generous
and understanding. We had a family life of wonderful Aunts and
Uncles - Alan and Marie and Pat and Val have remained close to
us all our lives. Not forgetting wonderful cousins Vanessa,
Nancy and Helen. Dad was close to his Mum’s side of the family
the Kinches and we grew up with the families of Ken and Ann,
Joan and Roy and Don and Maureen amongst others.
Our house resounded to music. Dad loved jazz, from Oscar
Peterson to Billie Holiday. He learned to play the trumpet and
was involved in the Salvation Army band before playing in
various dance bands about town. When he retired, he joined
another group of musicians and loved their rehearsals, followed
by a drink in the Cricketers. Dad was something of a
renaissance man - an engineer, musician and he could paint
well in oils.
Football was very important to Dad. He was a ball boy for
Southend United when they had played at the old Greyhound
Stadium. I can remember happy afternoons in the seventies
when Dad, my Grandad and Uncle Alan would take me to watch
the Blues - standing on the massive South Bank, then home to
a Chinese takeaway with Mum.
Dad's true passion in life (apart from mum of course!) was golf.
He was a member of Boyce Hill for scores of years. Saturday
and Sunday mornings were spent on the hilly course and he
managed a hole in one. Not all it's cracked up to be apparently,
as you must buy everyone in the club house a drink. Dad made
many dear friends at Boyce Hill over the years, swapping to
Snooker when the course become too arduous for him.
Dad was also a man happy to be at home with his newspapers
and TV. He cursed the day in 1974 when he won a year’s free
rental of a Colour TV set because we couldn’t let it go and we
had to keep renewing it.
I eventually left home and made my way in life, encouraged
and supported by them in a hands-off kind of way. Dad worried
about me but kept his counsel - quietly horrified by my betting
shop in Custom House for example.
Dad took early retirement, and they devoted their time to
gardening and antiques. Cruise holidays became something of
a passion for them, but they also loved getting out in the car
for a pub lunch. Dad had lots of what can only be described as
bangers in my younger life, but I was so pleased when he
treated himself to a lovely and powerful Vauxhall Vectra - his
final car. They were very happy that the licence plate nearly
spelled out HENRY which of course became the nick name for
it. Mum and Dad were a very loving partnership and rarely
argued except about map reading in said car.
They were able to spend many happy years of retirement
together. In 2018 Dad succumbed to Lung Cancer which he
beat - the doctor describing Dad after having some of his lung
removed as a “three-cylinder model rather than a four”. Life
resumed for them when dad had fully recovered, then they like
the rest of us had to negotiate the problems of Covid.
Approaching nearly their 65th year of marriage Dad was
diagnosed with Mouth Cancer. His treatment and illness proved
difficult for Mum and we lost her in July last year. Dad soldiered
on but he so missed his beloved Pat. His last days were of quiet
determination, and he passed away unafraid and knowing that
he was loved. He is now at peace with my beautiful mother.
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