Charles Ian McClure (Passed away 4 Jan 2022)

In loving memory of Charles Ian McClure who sadly passed away on 4th January 2022.

We prepared the below eulogies which were read at the funeral:

Early days of the McClure family, Holywood, Northern Ireland
By Rosemary McClure, Ian’s sister

Ian was born in April 1940 in a Nursing Home in Belfast. He was the younger child in the family and I remember my father taking me to the Nursing Home and presenting this small baby to me as “your young brother”.
We lived in the small town of Holywood and I (as the elder) went to the Primary School. Ian wanted to join me but was too young. Our mother took him one day and left him in the youngest class. When he came home he said “Well I’ve seen School now so I won’t bother going back”. Needless to say he had to start attending school every day.
Holidays were spent on the North Coast of Northern Ireland in a little place called Downhill where we joined with cousins to build sandcastles on possibly the best beach in the United Kingdom (miles of golden sand!) Happy memories of the fun we had in those days.
The Second World War was raging from 1939-45 and in April 1941 we suffered the Blitz. German planes droned up Belfast Lough trying to locate the Shipyard – terrifying sound – still remembered by us. We sat in the Pantry under the stairs – Mother, Ian and me (our father went out to view the planes but came back safely – Holywood did not get any bombs that night). Ian and I both remember that night – he spoke of it to me only months ago.
Ian went to Grammar School - Sullivan Upper School, Holywood and became involved in the local Cricket Club. He had many friends there and they stayed friends for years. I have just written to one in France to give him the sad news about Ian. Not so many local people remember him now but I had a sympathy letter from my Church (1st Holywood Presbyterian) saying how they enjoyed his company when he came here in summer.
Rosemary, the members of the church walking group remember Ian with fondness from the times he joined us on our walks – we are sorry for your loss & his family. From Noreen & the members
Ian applied for a job in Norwich and moved there in 1962. He subsequently met Christine and then, as they say, “the rest is history”.
All in all, despite the War, we had a very happy childhood in Holywood, and both of us made long-lasting friends here in our small town and felt privileged to live in a lovely place like Holywood.

Early life in Norwich
By Patrick McClure, with memories from Christine McClure and Tony Paxman

Having achieved his degree in Chemistry at Queens University Belfast, Ian set out for Norfolk in the early 1960s to accept a job offer at the agro-chemical site of May and Baker.
As part of getting settled in to Norfolk, he took up flat shares, joined local cricket and rugby clubs making life-long friends along the way.
One such friend, Tony Paxman recalls memories of Ian from 1964 to 1971 and someone who always tended to look for the “bright side of life”, made friends very easily, and enemies not at all.
Tony believes this was due to the fact that Ian was totally “laid-back” and a true gentle-man in every sense of those words. Tony met Ian at Norwich rugby club which was then at Fifer’s Lane, becoming regular team-mates in the Extra “A” or 4th team, due to the club’s great strength in that era.
This meant pure sport for enjoyment’s sake, with matches often lacking referees or requiring referees to fill in and play and thus dependant on the gentlemanly conduct of those like Ian to thrive.
Hard-earned post-match festivities for both rugby and cricket made and cemented life-long friendships, typically starting with a communal bath, then often one of Herbert’s hotpots and finally on to a convenient ale-house. Tony remembers Ian coining the phrase “Standing still in a one-yard circle” to perfectly describe the post-match footwork in the hostelries of Norwich!
It was likely after one such sporting fixture when Ian met Christine, literally falling at her feet having slipped off a bar stool in the Wild Man pub in Norwich! Or also falling asleep after another night with the curtains open at his Thorpe road flat having only completed the first half of getting changed for bed…
Many other times, Ian would assist his ‘over-indulged’ friends to ensure safe passage home, for example helping carry teammates along the Prince of Wales road having called it a night.
In April 2017, Ian helped to organise a re-union of a group of former Norwich Extra “A” players – and once again, Tony recalls a very happy gathering at which Ian surprised him with his recall of a joke told at least 50-years previously.
During all the sport and socialising, Christine had not been deterred by her initial meeting, marrying Ian on the 2nd August 1968 in Norwich but with appropriately Northern Irish weather, more suitable to February or March. They then moved into their first home together at Clearview Drive in Poringland, with a deposit from Ian’s father, moving on to their longstanding home a couple of miles further down the road in Brooke, in November 1974.
 
Family life in Norfolk
By Patrick McClure, with additional memories from Christine and Eve McClure

Fortunately for me, the clichés are true: you do not always appreciate what you have in the moment, particularly when you are growing up.
Now, more than ever, I have been reflecting on our upbringing in Brooke and feel exceptionally thankful for what my parents provided.
Having a lot of garden space and such a keen sportsman for a father, we learnt and played many sports together – cricket of course, but also tennis, football, rugby and even occasionally family 2-aside volleyball. He also carried a heavy snooker table across Norwich for a much-wanted Christmas present one year, which kept the sport going all year round in bad weather.
Although this sometimes allowed him to squeeze on to his old boyhood toboggan with us for white-knuckle downhill runs in the heavy snow of the 1980s at Shotesham, also his favourite place for countryside walks in better weather.
The well-chosen quiet cul-de-sac at 16 The Street in Brooke was also ideal for learning to ride bikes, and we often went out for rides together. Cycling was an ever-present pleasure in retirement too just as it had been growing up in Holywood.
At weekends, he used to work on his French by listening to longwave radio whilst doing some housework, which helped enormously on several family holidays. On one such trip he struck up a rapport with a local family in Normandy, The Marcons, that was maintained by pen, and always in French, for the rest of his life.
He was also very good with our pets. As is often the way with children, Eve and I quickly waned in our day-to-day care of the guinea pigs and rabbits we asked for, but my Dad picked this up without complaint. In fact, such was his fondness for our rabbits, he ended up with the family nickname Mr Rabbit, shortened to Mr R and maintained long after the rabbits left for the big hutch in the sky.
Nicknames were very much a part of our family eccentricities, with most unrepeatable outside of 16 The Street due to their often slightly irreverent nature. I am sure Mr R came up with ‘Krusty’ for Christine following a fresh and notably tight perm, after the curly haired and similarly acerbic Simpsons character! Unlike the perm, this family nickname also stuck.
Day trips to see first class cricket in Essex, particularly with Eve, were a regular feature, sometimes ensuring we saw all-time greats in action, such as Viv Richards. This echoed when his own father took him to London in 1948 and seized the opportunity for his cricket-mad son to see Donald Bradman play at Lords, the home of cricket.
He vividly remembered and cursed his bad luck that the Don was not so invincible that day, scoring a paltry six runs!
Working life when Eve and I were growing up was principally at Colmans and Her Majesty’s Stationary Office, where yet more friendships were made and even education was continued with many training courses to take, once gaining the highest ever recorded mark on a government printing course.
Sporting involvement in this period turned to racquets, first squash, then tennis played well in to his 70s at Lime Tree Road in Norwich. Many a time in earlier days he would continue to be a team player and replace late-drop-outs for the local squash club despite having returned from an afternoon of tennis!
When Eve was trying to decide which university to go to (there were 8 alternatives in all), the ever-supportive Mr R and she set off on several epic and memorable journeys across the length and breadth of the country from Exeter to St Andrews in Scotland.
Discreet financial generosity was a constant feature too, despite modest means – whether it was a Glastonbury festival ticket (to avoid joining my fence-jumping friends!), or a more substantial first house deposit, he was always there to back us up financially. He also used to quietly make charitable donations I was not aware of until recently; to diverse causes including the Salvation Army, Cats Protection, Stroke association or the RNLI lifeboats.
I also feel very thankful that my Dad was alive for so much of my adult life, allowing us to regularly spend time together and also with his grandchildren Abigail and Edward.
He loved to see Abigail’s artwork and hear her regular progress through classical grades on the violin, as he had picked up a love of classical music from my mum.
He also loved to see Edward’s development in sports, even as recently as the October half term last year ensuring the grass was cut so Edward could bamboozle me with off- and leg-breaks, just as he had done for me 35 years ago. Edward also got a few chances to watch Match of the Day with him, just as I had always done since the early 90s, and knew Man City’s Kevin De Bruyne was his Grandad R’s favourite current player.
Such was our comfortable relationship, I asked him to join me on a trip to Amsterdam with my friends around 2005. We had a great time with them, but broke off on several occasions to have dinner and a few Belgian beers together and make a pilgrimage to the place where one of the jazz heroes of his youth, Chet Baker, had died.
This was just one of many holidays he took in retirement, with most involving walking around scenic places in Europe, something he continued back home as long as was able to, with local rambling groups including the Waveney Ramblers, with whom he enjoyed many lovely walks around the Norfolk-Suffolk border area.
He also spent two very happy summer holidays in 2013 and 2014 with Eve and her husband Dylan in the Algarve, where he enjoyed trips to the beach, walks across the hills and visiting sites of interest.
But he was happiest really just sitting in the shade outside the local cafes with a coffee and a Portuguese Custard Tart watching the world go by;
or relaxing in the garden gazebo enjoying the wonderful vista of beautiful flowers with the Portuguese and Spanish coasts in the far distance;
as well as making friends with the local animals including Silvester, a splendidly mercurial white cat and Sian, a lovely, gentle rescue dog, perhaps thinking of his boyhood dog Jerry?
Northern Ireland was still very close to his heart, even after all the time lived in Norfolk, with satellite TV tuned to BBC Northern Ireland for the news and the fortunes and failures of the Ulster Rugby team. Whenever possible, he took opportunities to attend Ulster matches at home in Ravenhill, or away in England.
I feel his unimposing influence every day, whether it is in my measured approach to many situations, sense of humour, choice of clothing (he always had a penchant for ‘natty gents wear’ as he used to put it!) and coming up with slightly edgy nicknames for people amongst many other things
– and Eve has undoubtedly inherited his love of cricket, walking, cycling and clear, bright blue skies.

We are thankful for all the time we spent together and the memories that will never leave us.