Martin Fraser Penny (1 Feb 1942 - 10 Aug 2021)

Thank you very much, Andrew, for sharing some lovely details and pictures of Martin's life pre-Nina. They were such a sweet and devoted couple. Rest In Peace Martin.

Rest In Peace Martin. You brought so much love and contentment to Nina's life, it was lovely to see how devoted you were to each other. Sandra x

Rest In Peace Martin

Thinking of Martin, his family and friends. I know Martin greatly appreciated the Macmillan team and carers that helped him in his last days, and made him comfortable. I'm glad we were able to give him support and comfort during his illness, and we had many laughs (and a few tears) along the way!

By his younger brother, Andrew.

Martin was born in Cheltenham when my father was 54. He was the long-awaited child of my parents; they had married 7 years earlier; they subsequently were to have two more children – I was born 18 months later, and Michael five years after that. We were cared for, brought up in a secure environment, albeit money was limited, as it was for everyone in those days – I expect most here can remember – luxury was an ice-cream, tea at the Lyons Corner House or the Cadena, or a trip to the pictures. It was the era of hand me downs, it was an awfully long time before my clothes were not - to use a modern expression – pre-used.
Our upbringing was Victorian, standards were set and were expected to be maintained; reinforced by our father’s military career, we had to undertake our share of chores. A mainstay of family life was church, as it had been for many generations of our ancestors
Holiday snaps tell of a happy childhood – we swam in the Cherwell; we went punting on the same river. We always holidayed in Cornwall for a month at Easter, we built sandcastles on the beach, went crabbing in the rock pools and fished for mackerel. There were always dogs around. At home in Oxford, we spent a lot of time on our bicycles and developed a love of sport - watching Cricket in the Parks and Rugby at Iffley Road. Attendance at the Christmas Pantomime was de riguer. It was the slapstick that really appealed to Martin, he was ever the family clown.
We went away to school, Martin attended Rose Hill in Gloucestershire. Where, with at least two of his life-long friends, he enjoyed the disciplinary attention of the headmaster’s cane on more than one occasion.
It was at this stage that Martin’s deafness manifested itself, it was to make the rest of his life difficult. In the next phase of his schooling, he should have attended a special school in the Midlands which catered for children with hearing difficulties. A week or two before the start of his first term, a major fire destroyed the school and he had to go elsewhere. The spot chosen on the Norfolk coast was stark and a long way from home, again Martin made life-long friend, some of whom are here today. Whilst out of school one day he stumbled into Dersingham Church where one of our great uncles had been the Rector. He met an elderly parishioner who had known this uncle and talked about him. It started Martin’s long-term interest in genealogy. That interest is reflected in Martin’s choice of hymns today, two of which were written by Mrs CF Alexander, a distant relative on our mother’s side.
One of the skills Martin had was an ability to draw, something he no doubt inherited not just from our father but also it would have been in his genes as one of our forebears had been a founder member of the Royal Academy and was its First Professor of Painting. It was this gene, and encouragement from his godmother that took him into architecture.
In the summer of 1959 Martin attended an Outward Bound course in Devon, an experience that he found rewarding and uplifting, for him it was a significant achievement. Six months later our father died at the age of 71. It was a blow to us all – Martin 18, me a little younger and Michael 11. It was so unexpected as he had been playing squash and cycling with us a few days before. Very soon afterwards Martin left home and went to London
Once in London he started off by living at the Toc H hostel in Pimlico, I visited him there on several occasions, it allowed us to attend concerts at the Albert Hall in their debenture box, and he often persuaded me to play Rugby for one of the Saracen’s teams with him in Raynes Park.
Later he lived in Camden, where Michael used to visit Martin and recalls one occasion when he arrived, and the occupants were sitting in front of a television listening to the dialogue without any picture.
After our mother died in 1970, he was able to buy 143 Grove Road, and lived in Walthamstow for the rest of his life. With his job in an architect’s office, he had a comfortable life. I remember being told how he was very much involved in the building of the grandstand at Doncaster Racecourse.
In 1974 I was posted to the Ministry of Defence. Martin and I used to meet regularly for lunch in a pub in Warren Street – the Smugglers. It was always full of second-hand car salesmen; I never managed to work out Martin’s affinity with them as he did not own a car until 40 years later. He chose to whizz round on his Phut-phut motor bike – on at least one occasion riding it all the way to Gloucestershire to stay with Michael and his family for Christmas.
I had a second tour of duty in London in 1979 and I again met up with Martin – in the same pub – he was certainly a creature of habit. I was married by this time, and he also ventured south to Wandsworth to join my first wife and me for the occasional Sunday lunch.
Sadly, for him his deafness became increasingly challenging, and he parted from the firm of architects. He took the decision to attend Portland College to learn the intricacies of Computer Aided Design. This was a challenge and an experience he enjoyed.
Returning from the course he was at a loose end, he started doing odd jobs as a gardener, and spending increasing amounts of time on genealogy; It was at this time he started working in the Drop-in Centre. It was there that he first met Nina – who became the focus and attention of his life for over 25 years. His persistence paid off and she eventually agreed to marry him.
6 July 2013 was a happy, warm summer day, where Martin was surrounded by his family, Nina’s family, and his friends and neighbours for his wedding. Sadly, it was a union that did not last long, as Nina died 4 years later. No one can challenge Martin’s devotion to Nina, it was exemplary, caring, thoughtful and unstinting. Martin even grew to love Nina’s cats and after her death he continued to look after Tommy and Popsy even more fondly.
The last four years were a great challenge for Martin particularly after the spider bites, with back pain and a dodgy hip, and then the onset of cancer. Martin fought his cancer, with his usual doggedness and succumbed to it on the 10 August. During his illness two caring friends Phil Roth and David Lange supported him. At the very end he was in the care of two exceptionally kind Macmillan nurses.
Martin was determined and kind, he had plenty of affection to give. He was enthralled by family history, and it is planned to fulfil his wish that his ashes will be interred alongside his father and both of his grandfathers at Holywell in Oxford – a fitting place for a genealogist.

Thinking of you all at this difficult time. Jeremy & Rachel