Ella Glenn (21 Jul 1918 - 23 Feb 2016)

Andrew Robertson's recollections of his Grandma

Girl’s name, beginning with E? Emily, Emma, Elizabeth... Ella.

As a family, Grandma had taught us many games: Gin Rummy, Whist, Pontoon. And one especially sticks to my mind: Girl’s name, Boy’s name. You name as many categories of things beginning with the letter as you can, not only that, but animals, countries, flowers & fruits, rivers…

We’d gather as a large family, three generations, wracking our brains over fruit beginning with a letter, or going over the countries of the world. But there’s something wider in the appeal of this game. Both Grandma and Grandad shared a genuine appreciation and wonder for the natural world. They loved walking, up round the nature reserve, and now I consider it, we’ve been round Sherwood Forest, Nottingham Castle, Forests in Fontainebleau, up on Pendle hill at Christmas in Sabden, happily setting off through snow and it was amazing how they would always lead the way. An adventurism that my cousin Tim seems to have picked up, climbing three of the nations’ peaks in one day, albeit in a more extreme form.

I enjoyed hearing Grandad recount of they’d gone walking round the nature reserve when he’d been courting Ella - those his exact words - they conjured up a time and an attitude, at once classic and romantic. It seemed to affect the language used too - he always called her chick or duck - ‘you alright chick?’, ‘alright me duck’?

They made an exceptionally fine couple, had a great sense of humour, they were a laugh - “we’re not fussed” you’d hear them say, not to let the little things bring them down; and indeed, they didn’t need to be. They were tremendous fun to be around, exuding a happiness in being together, that shone out to all they met.

How did they dress? Smart, well turned out. Cap, shirt and tie, polished shoes. And when they recounted stories from when they had young children, it always seemed to come back to one. John had gone playing with friends where they washed out the cement mixers and he came back covered, his new shoes ruined, encrusted. And how cross they were.

Stories! wow, didn’t Grandma have them. Grandma had suffered diphtheria as a child, confined to a quarantined room into which her mother would wave at her through glass. She fought off this deadly disease, and was given a bright red dress, but it showed how terribly pale she looked, the colour all drained from her cheeks. Yet to hear her recount it, she’d always see the funny side of things. And Jessie Boot - how this progressive employer had encouraged education for all his staff. Grandma said that in her lifetime, she’d seen more change than you’d have thought possible: the advent of the computer, TV, internet, aeroplanes, ....... the printing press.

One of the defining periods for their generation was WWII, the rise of evil personified. Grandad could not have looked smarter than in the photo of him taken in the Coldstream Guards. I couldn’t feel more admiration for this young couple, and the millions like them, who put their lives on the line in the name of freedom. Grandad fought in Italy, nearly losing a foot to gangrene and hospitalized with shrapnel in his back. What a test of commitment, of love, for this new couple, so recently married. They were fearless in their willingness to do their bit. Grandad was stationed out in Berlin after the war. I barely heard mention of this until moving there (it’s a lot better now) - and G’ma would reminisce hanging on the name with wonder - ‘Berlin’. I felt bad how the mere mention of this city would so dominate the conversation.

They rarely mentioned the war. I hope they forgive me for doing so. But it seemed to play such an important part in the appreciation for peacetime that followed. As a couple, they exuded generosity, good cheer. When they visited Japan in the 90’s, they were confronted with friendly people, curious at the elderly British couple they were meeting. But this was probably a mirror of their own attitude - one naturally friendly and curious.

It’s been a long time since my Grandad Jack passed away. It’s with a mixture of sadness and admiration that I saw Grandma keep the home fire burning. But she managed so well - doing DIY (we’d learn she’d been up ladders fixing curtains when the inevitable happened), …... With help from her friends and neighbours, she kept everything in order, and not for her the easy route of home delivery or a taxi back from town. No, she’d be out on the bus. Amazing.

What saw her through such difficult times? Grandma always brought such kindness, good humour, strength of spirit to the party. I think that’s how she’d like to be remembered, and celebrated today.

That she and Jack managed to live the good life, with classic style, with dignity.

Is it a little gloomy to mention the difficult years of their young marriage? To me, it’s an important to acknowledge the strength of character of their generation, and they are an an incredible example, of how people can really commit to one another, despite the storms that may come. They were the perfect grandparents.

And they’re together now. Woven into life’s timeless tapestry of people and places. Perhaps you could join me, and try to name - an animal beginning with E? I have a few
Elephant, Elk…

My words at the funeral:

Girl’s name, beginning with E? Emily, Emma, Elizabeth... Ella.
As a family, Grandma had taught us many games: Gin Rummy, Whist, Pontoon. And one especially sticks to my mind: Girl’s name, Boy’s name. You name as many categories of things beginning with the letter as you can, not only that, but animals, countries, flowers & fruits, rivers…

We’d gather as a large family, three generations, wracking our brains over fruit beginning with a letter, or going over the countries of the world. But there’s something wider in the appeal of this game. Both Grandma and Grandad shared a genuine appreciation and wonder for the natural world. They loved walking, up round the nature reserve, and now I consider it, we’ve been round Sherwood Forest, Nottingham Castle, Forests in Fontainebleau, up on Pendle hill at Christmas in Sabden, happily setting off through snow and it was amazing how they would always lead the way. An adventurism that my cousin Tim seems to have picked up, climbing three of the nations’ peaks in one day, albeit in a more extreme form.
I enjoyed hearing Grandad recount of they’d gone walking round the nature reserve when he’d been courting Ella - those his exact words - they conjured up a time and an attitude, at once classic and romantic. It seemed to affect the language used too - he always called her chick or duck - ‘you alright chick?’, ‘alright me duck’?

They made an exceptionally fine couple, had a great sense of humour, they were a laugh - “we’re not fussed” you’d hear them say, not to let the little things bring them down; and indeed, they didn’t need to be. They were tremendous fun to be around, exuding a happiness in being together, that shone out to all they met.
How did they dress? Smart, well turned out. Cap, Shirt and tie, polished shoes. And when they recounted stories from when they had young children, it always seemed to come back to one. John had gone playing with friends on a coal heap and come back covered in soot, his new shoes ruined. And how cross they were.

Stories! wow, didn’t Grandma have them. Grandma had suffered diphtheria as a child, confined to a quarantined room into which her mother would wave at her through glass. She fought off this deadly disease, and was given a bright red dress, but it showed how terribly pale she looked, the colour all drained from her cheeks. Yet to hear her recount it, she’d always see the funny side of things. And Jessie Boot - how this progressive employer had encouraged education for all his staff. Grandma said that in her lifetime, she’d seen more change than you’d have thought possible: the advent of the computer, TV, internet, aeroplanes, the printing press.

One of the defining periods for their generation was WWII, the rise of evil personified. Grandad could not have looked smarter than in the photo of him taken in the Coldstream Guards. I couldn’t feel more admiration for this young couple, and the millions like them, who put their lives on the line in the name of freedom. Grandad fought in Italy, nearly losing a foot to gangrene and hospitalized with shrapnel in his back. What a test of commitment, of love, for this new couple, so recently married. They were fearless in their willingness to do their bit. Grandad was stationed out in Berlin after the war. I barely heard mention of this until moving there (it’s a lot better now) - and G’ma would reminisce hanging on the name with wonder - ‘Berlin’. I felt bad how the mere mention of this city would so dominate the conversation.

They rarely mentioned the war. I hope they forgive me for doing so. But it seemed to play such an important part in the appreciation for peacetime that followed. As a couple, they exuded generosity, good cheer. When they visited Japan in the 90’s, they were confronted with friendly people, curious at the elderly British couple they were meeting. But this was probably a mirror of their own attitude - one naturally friendly and curious.

It’s been a long time since my Grandad Jack passed away. It’s with a mixture of sadness and admiration that I saw Grandma keep the home fire burning. But she managed so well, even doing DIY (we’d learn she’d been up ladders fixing curtains when the inevitable happened). With help from her friends and neighbours, she kept everything in order, and not for her the easy route of home delivery or a taxi back from town. No, she’d be out on the bus. Amazing.

What saw her through such difficult times? Grandma always brought such kindness, good humour, strength of spirit to the party. I think that’s how she’d like to be remembered, and celebrated today.

That she and Jack managed to live the good life, with classic style, with dignity.

Is it a little gloomy to mention the difficult years of their young marriage? To me, it’s an important to acknowledge the strength of character of their generation, and they are an an incredible example, of how people can really commit to one another, despite the storms that may come. They were the perfect grandparents.

And they’re together now. Woven into life’s timeless tapestry of people and places. Perhaps you could join me, and try to name - an animal beginning with E? I have a few
Elephant, Elk…

Love and best wishes Richard, Susan, Alex and George xx

Donation on behalf of Ella's niece Marilyn, and her husband John.

A woman who once told junior doctors when they asked 'what's the answer to living to your age Mrs Glenn?' replied 'staying away from you lot'. Despite this she was a great example of the power of the nhs, who fixed her on a number of occasions! No woman gets to 97 without some real support! She worked hard for years supporting the hospital and this is a wonderful way to commemorate her life. A truly quick witted, inspirational woman, full of laughter and love, you will be greatly missed xxx

Donation on behalf of Ella's niece Elaine, and her husband David.

Volunteering at the QMC for over 25 years with the WRVS, was a big part of Mum's life. Operations on her eyes and, in her last year, on her hips, improved the quality of her life. Thank you.

Helping at the QMC and later being a recipient of its expertise was a big part of Mum's life.

Sally Glenn's recollections of her Grandma.

It's hard to capture Grandma in a few words; she was charming, interested, determined and a real tour de force. Any woman who lives independently to 96 is someone to be reckoned with! Indeed she was a wonderful role model to all who knew her and not least her grandchildren.
Grandma was certainly hands on; when we were little I remember playing shops for hours. Each time she would declare it an 'Aladdin's Cave' and search out the best deals. This could turn into a shopping marathon, much like her trips to Boundary Mill; where she could spend a whole day, with well timed trips to the cafe. A woman with impeccable taste, always looking for a little bit of detail, she could stay for hours. It was no wonder she was so well turned out. Her cerise outfit for Tim's wedding is one of my all time favourites.
When we were little, she never complained when we woke her in the morning, instead shouting 'who is it?' at the knock on the door and asking 'is it the milkman?' before we ran inside. Grandad dutifully would open and shut a single eye, pretending he was asleep before disappearing out the room to leave us to chat away. She was an excellent chatter! She made sure we were educated in how to talk to magpies and how to judge the weather based on whether there was enough blue in the sky to make a sailor a pair of trousers. She enjoyed recalling stories from our childhood...trips to Wollaton Hall where I apparently declared it sold the best ice cream in the world, it turned out it was Walls. We broke my boomerang that day. She enjoyed telling people about the time I lost my Teddy Cat and naturally blamed Tim. As a somewhat dramatic child I apparently got on my knees thanking God on its safe return. She responded 'Nevermind God; thank Grandma'.
She also liked to recall the time dad took us on one of his famous 'short cuts', a walk which lasted hours. To pass time she embraced her Scottish roots and we danced the Gay Gordons down the hill, singing 'I'll take the high road and you'll take the low road'. We dreamed of all the food we were going to have at the end, exotic things like meringues but we ended up with fish and chips. She enjoyed dancing and later in life would often call on a Saturday to analyse Strictly over the phone.
She likewise enjoyed food! Something it seems she has passed on to her great grandchild! She was a wonderful baker: cherry cake and fruit buns were personal favourites but she also baked an amazing Christmas pudding. Every year the fairies would come overnight putting 20ps in it for us, but, strangely, granddad always seemed to have a button! Christmas will always remind me of grandma; indeed one of the most recent ones involved her staunchly walking up the hill in snow to get to church regardless of the fact she had a stick and was over 90. A reflection of her famous fortitude!
She was adventurous and was possibly the best travelled 80 old around when she visited Malaysia but also Japan. This was her favourite (it was very clean there and her and grandad were treated like celebrities...they had rarely seen such old Westerners!).
Her ability to tell stories surpassed anyone and in her later years she recalled her youth with such joy. She particularly enjoyed telling us stories about her and Ivy and the time she went rowing on the Trent, despite the fact neither she nor Ivy could swim. She lost her purse in Trent Lock and used to joke every time we went that we may find it. When she worked at Boots, she and her friends would spend their lunchtimes on the Weir fields making human pyramids and singing whilst she played the ukelele! This was a shocking revelation to us all! How had had she got to 90 without us knowing of this talent! I enjoyed her recalling the courtship of her and grandad and the time they got locked accidentally in the University Gardens when they went there one evening for a stroll. I'm sure staying there all night would have been quite the scandal, but luckily they found a way to escape.
It was perhaps her memories of the war that had a lasting resonance. It was a time that deeply affected her and she often told tales about the era; she would be up all night dealing with air raids and still go to work the next day. She once told me how frustrated she was with workmates who would moan despite not being up all night like her and she clearly was judging their lack of commitment. She was a highly principled lady! I admired her for that. My favourite wartime story was when she had a funny turn at work, declaring that she knew my grandad had been hurt. They took her home and sure enough the letter came that he had indeed been injured, about the exact time she had responded in fact. Who knows what happened there but it perhaps is a fair reflection of the closeness of their relationship. Something they had to the very end. I tell my students about how my grandparents still held hands in their 80s and 90s and that there is such a thing as a lasting love. She missed him desperately and I like to think that they are now reunited and she's filling him in on all the things he's missed. Grandma you were, in his words, a bobby dazzler and we will miss you enormously.

This is the Address that I read at Mum's Funeral.

The Life of Ella Glenn
Mum was born on Hawthorn Grove, Beeston to Peter and Hannah McDougall, who had come down from Alloa for work. A sister to Jim and Noreen. Her dad died when she was 4 and her mum had to provide for her 3 children, far from home. She borrowed money from relatives to set up in a fish shop on Queens Rd, wet fish in the morning, fish and chips at mealtimes. The children had to help. Mum operated the potato chipper, but one day when she was 6, she chopped the top off a finger. One neighbour quickly bound it back, successfully. Another, doom laden, told Grandma. “You’ll never rear her.” She was wrong.
Grandma married again, moved to Regent Street and Auntie Mary was born.
Then mum caught diphtheria when 10. She was taken to an isolation hospital, lying on a flat surface and grandma, when she visited, could only see her through a window. It left her with the heart murmur that junior doctors would come to listen to 80 years later.
She left Beeston Higher Standard Girls School in 1932 to work at Boots, despatching orders. One day a week, she continued her education at the Boots School in Nottingham. She worked in building D10, the concrete and glass architectural classic. Mum remembered it as too hot in summer, they would bring round lemon barley water, and too cold in winter, they would bring round warm ginger beer.
In 1940, she married Jack who lived a few houses away. She was happy to become a full time housewife. Married women were not expected to work. They settled on Robinet Rd, where she could live opposite her sister, Noreen. Noreen was a full of advice and mum felt safe living close to her, because war was now happening. Dad was in the Home Guard defending Beeston Lock at night, stopping the Germans coming up the canal. Mum was watching for air raids, ready to put out fires with a bucket of water and a stirrup pump.
Later, Dad joined the Coldstream Guards and Mum started working at Ericssons as part of the war effort. Dad went off to fight in Italy, getting shrapnel in his back and, later, losing 2 toes to frostbite when he rejoined the fighting in the mountains.
She had Arlene in 1946, and I came along in 1951. A few years later we moved to Clarence Rd, Attenborough and mum lived there until her fall in 2014.
When I went to University, she joined Noreen as a cleaner at Willoughby Hall at Nottingham University. More to the point, they were mum’s to the students. One, Davina, still sent her a Christmas card this year.
She and dad made a good team. He was calm and non-judgemental; she was .... well, when she heard the week before Gill and I married, that I had blue velvet suit, she told me seriously, “I’m not coming if you’re going to be dressed like ruddy Liberace”. Dad later sorted it out. She came. He knew how to handle her.
In retirement, she and dad were stalwarts of the Plessey Retired Association and they volunteered for over 25 years at Queens Medical Centre, manning an information desk and helping run a cafe, before Costa got there.
At holiday time, they would head up to Scotland in the car, bed and breakfasting, the further North the better. In their 60s, they got passports as David’s work took him and Arlene abroad. They went to France, Holland, Italy and in their 70s Japan and Malaysia. The Japanese weren’t used to old English people, particularly ones walking round town by themselves and saying “Kaneachiwa” to them. Mum loved them, polite people who showed pride in their homes and neighbourhood.
Mum was like that. Fastidious about the house. Stripping beds, washing, ironing and remaking them into her 90s. Mrs Williams opposite, could look down the drive at the washing line. It must be a good drying day. Mrs Glenn’s got her washing out. Their generation still referred to each other as Mrs .....
She was a superb conversationalist. She would ask people questions and, more importantly, listen to the answers. She had a superb memory, and next time she met people, she would ask about things which had been mentioned previously.
And she was stubborn and independent. When dad died after 65 years together, she insisted on staying in the family home. Everyday, she would walk to the bus stop and go into Beeston, or Long Eaton after they started work on that ruddy tram. 17 months ago though, after a fall, she realised that she wouldn’t be able to return. First at Silverwood, then at the Herons, she was cared for, but she frustrated that she couldn’t get out by herself. Her determination didn’t leave, even after breaking both of her hips last year, and on her last day, she still walked with a frame to breakfast.
A light has gone out, but here are two of her grandchildrens recollections.

In loving memory of Mum and Grandma.

In memory of a very special lady. With deepest sympathy from Margaret Greasley and family.

In memory of Ella, love from us all

So very sad to hear of the passing of "Aunty Ella"
She and"Uncle Jack" were lifetime friends of my parents, and I have such fond memories of them both.
Sincere sympathy to Arlene, John & Families
Pat & Family x

So very sad to hear of Ella's passing today - thank you John. She and Noreen looked after us girls so well at Willoughby Hall in the 70's and we have such fond memories. Sincere condolences to all her family. Davina Fairweather