My little brother Simon was born during a blizzard 60 years ago today, the third of January 1963. It was one of the coldest winters on record and it became known as the Big Freeze of ’63. He would have loved it if he’d have been old enough at the time to do a spot of skiing or walking. He made an impact immediately - a breech delivery – our mum Jean certainly wasn’t going to forget that in a hurry. Right from the off it was apparent that Simon was a very active, bright individual. He wasn’t a good sleeper as a baby, in fact our father Michael tells me that him and Mum didn’t get a full night’s sleep with Simon until he started school.
From very early on Simon was ‘into everything’, to coin a phrase. There were many mischievous incidents, accidents, trips to Casualty (now known as A and E) throughout his childhood years, mostly due to his insatiable curiosity, boundless energy and downright daftness. Mum used to recount a story that on one occasion after taking him yet again to Lancaster Royal Infirmary, before she could even announce why they were there or give their names, the receptionist on the Casualty desk greeted him with, “Hello Simon, here again? I’ll just get your file.” He became quite blasé about how many tetanus jabs he’d had over the years due to wounds, scratches and the like. One particular incident sticks in my mind because I was right beside him as it happened. We were ‘helping’ Mum dig the garden one day. I was about 11 I think, so maybe Simon must have been 7 or 8. He decided that the little trowel he’d been using wasn’t up to the job of digging the hole in the earth so he reached for the full-sized gardening fork. On his first attempt at forcefully sticking it in the ground his aim was slightly off: one of the prongs, or teeth, went through his Wellington boot and right through his foot. Straight to Casualty again.
Amongst the numerous incidents such as repeatedly coming off his bicycle, falling from things he happened to be climbing on, all the mishaps he had when he was playing out or generally making the most of the outdoors, there’s another funny episode that demonstrates Simon’s inquisitive nature: at the age of about 6 or 7 he found a packet of dried peas in the kitchen cupboard and thought he’d see what he could do with them and what interesting places he could put them. Yes, you’ve guessed it, the one in his ear had to be sucked out at Casualty again.
In our family Simon as a little boy was politely referred to as being ‘quite a handful’. Code for very hard work. Mum in particular was often totally exhausted at the end of the day. I think I just took it for granted that’s what younger brothers were like, but I was surprised when my friends used to check with me before coming to my house that Simon wouldn’t be left to play with us. It seemed that they were slightly intimidated by him. Perhaps it was the big stick he wielded whenever a ‘foe entered our territory’. To be fair, he was only about 3 or 4 at the time. He did drop this habit a little later on thankfully. It does however show his lively imagination that had been fuelled by the endless Westerns and war films he saw – that was 1960s television for you.
He was of the Action Man generation, and by that I mean the toy, or as I used to taunt him, his doll. He liked to model himself on Action Man when he was about 5 or 6. He and our cousin Graham who was a similar age used to spend hours with their Action Men and also have hundreds of tiny plastic soldiers lined up across the floor. He also loved Captain Scarlet, Thunderbirds and Joe 90 and would recite chunks of dialogue from each series in the characters’ voices. And of course he would vocalise all the sound effects, for example, screeching of brakes, crashes, screams, roar of the engines, the lot.
As Simon grew older his interest in all things outdoor strengthened. He loved walking in the hills, canoeing, kayaking, basically anything that meant he was doing and it was in a beautiful environment. We were very lucky in that we didn’t live far away from the Lake District where he was always in his element. He had many friends, some very dear ones are here today, and he was extremely popular with everyone. His infectious smile, cheeky sense of humour and gentle kindness meant that he made friends very easily. We didn’t have a telephone installed at our house until approximately 1977 or 1978. I, for one, was extremely excited by this, but soon came down to earth when I realised that most of the incoming calls were for Simon, quite often girls asking if he was in. This was my little brother for goodness sake. I don’t suppose they could resist his gorgeous curly hair, the cheeky smile, his quick wit and ability to make you laugh.
I will miss you Simon.
