Lest we forget...if we do it's all there in our names to remind us...

Sorry for the obvious choice of title on this Remembrance Sunday, but it just had to be done really. I hope you forgive me.

I also hope you forgive what is likely to be a VERY long post - if you make it all the way through then I shall buy you something pretty and/or alcoholic as a thank you. There's just a lot that's happened since yesterday evening is all.

So, my guests at Clancy's Cantina included:

Frances Walker (nee Wood) - aka Mum
Jennie Laura Walker - aka my favourite little sister (I'm her favourite big sister too - there's just the two of us siblings)
Patricia Storer (previously Jesson, nee Walker) - my Aunty, Dad's sister
Jonathan "Jonks" Jesson - aka Cuz (my very talented and only cousin is an Ad Agency Director by day, and is delightfully playing in a band again, they did Skeggy Butlins last week - in full 70s get-up. In one of his former bands 'Hooton 3 Car' - named after a train in Liverpool I believe, which is where they did their music degree a 'few' years ago - he took part in a number of sessions on John Peel's show, and, when the NME released the contents of Mr Peel's record box a little while after he left his body, many of us were thrilled, delighted and touched to learn that Hooton 3 Car's EP was in there.

Class, well done Jonks and the rest of you. They disbanded a while ago, but are still great mates. It's thrash metal, which might not be your 'thang' but is worth a listen. Just Google 'em - there's a lot out there

And last, but by very no means least, Tracey Jesson (nee Taylor) - Jonks and Tracey married in Cyprus last year and they looked bloody gorgeous. Congratulations yet again guys.

So, yet again, can you see why Brief Encounter is woven into the very fabric of my soul and family tree. Jesson, Hooton 3 Car (a train). Add to this the fact that much of my early childhood was spent at Dot's Station Bar in Worksop. Trixie the Yorkie Terrier ruled the roost really, but Dot Hoyland came a very close second in the ranks.

That's nearly it in my family now, so when we have rows and blips they never last for long. With so few of us we can't afford to have family feuds! There's my wonderful Aunty Margaret - Mum's little sis - in Sunderland, and their second cousin and his delightful wife - Andy and Gill Carr (and their family too) - who live in Leominster and who keep extending their hospitality to me, which I will take them up on soon. They do visit a bit more now, now they are thankfully retired from running their B&B in Stratford-upon-Avon, in their camper van.

That's it.

Until I crack on with researching where the rest of the family of Mary Ann Butterfield (my dear Nana) in Leeds have got to of course.

A few years ago I did book an hour at Leeds Library and found her birth certificate, and her parents' marriage certificate, but that's as far as I got. When, a couple of years ago, I registered on Genes Reunited, the one person who got in touch was my dear Uncle Jim Jesson (Jonks's Dad) and it was lovely to hear from him. I'll be in touch with him again soon too, as he has the contact details for Peter Faulkner - the best teacher I had - who now resides in NZ with his lovely wife, and - I'm assuming his three gorgeous children (I shudder to think how old they are now) - Liley, Noel and Daisy.

I'll be heading down under for the first time next year - I've got many people in Sydney, Brisbane, Melbourne, NZ - North and South - that I want to see and miss terribly. Plus I reckon I need to stop by (and buy at) Peter Lehmann's vinyard & winery. It's where they make Clancy's red wine. Incidentally, Clancy is the name of the sheep drover in 'Waltzing Matilda', but he's not named in the song. Thank you again to Fran Walker for my name. My Dad laughed when Mum suggested it and I was known as Clanky in my family for years. Thankfully that one passed on, but Clancy Pants then took over - amongst friends and family. Thanks guys ;)

Another quick incidental, my middle name is Louise, which means 'famous warrior'. Red Warrior, Famous Warrior and Walker. Blimey.

What does your name mean? I know what most of my family's and friends' names mean, but would be very interested to learn more. Please get in touch - clancy@clancywalker.com - my eyes and ears are on, permanently.

I might have to do two posts to include last night's escapades at the West Yorkshire Playhouse - we did head out after an hour or two at the Cantina. Bugger, forgot Connie on the guest list, her full name is Princess Consuela Banana Hammock (it's a Phoebe-ism from Friends before you panic about my mental health) so she has a Mexican link too. Squeak's full name is Prince Squeaktipher Charming. Which is another Friends reference too I'm afraid, partly. Joey is filling in forms for Ross at the hospital and asks Ross, what his name is. "I know Ross, but what's Ross short for? Rosstipher? Rossell?"

Just had to have a short break, as Connie was trying to remove my bamboo blinds on my bay window with her teeth. Bless the little bugger eh?!

Back now.

So, I'll finish off this one with a tale or two about why I'm big into the remembering today.

My father's father, Captain Robert Walker, didn't fight in the Second World War, no, he was based in the Indian Army for about 10 years instead. Hardly the easy option I hope you agree. And it also means I have some family connections to 'It Ain't Half Hot Mum' too!!!

This the reason there was a 10 year age gap between my dear Father - also Robert 'Bob' Walker, it's a Northern Mining Village tradition of course - and my dear Aunty Patricia.

So he returned circa 1948, and Patricia was born on the 14 November 1948 - must remember to buy and post card tomorrow - which also happens to be the same birth date as Prince Charles's. Nana received a basket of congratulatory fruit and flowers from the Queen, as did every other mother who gave birth to a baby on the same day that our future King (really?) was born.

He then, as every self-respecting, honest, hard-working fella round those parts did, went to work to support his family down the mines.

Deep breath folks please...

He was one of the 80 out of 211 men who was killed in the tragedy that is now known as the Cresswell Pit Disaster on September 25th 1950. The worst bit is still to come I'm afraid...

He was one of those men who managed to get out initially. But, and it's a big'un...

...Went back in to try and rescue his friends.

Christ. Sorry Patricia - hope you will forgive my blasphemy.

What a brave, courageous, compassionate, caring man my paternal Grandfather was. But I bet that was very little comfort to my dear Nana who was left to raise a 12 year old son and a two year old daughter.

I'm so very very proud of him, and all of them really. I hope you forgive, and understand, my gushing.

I gush a lot as you've probably noticed, but often with very good reason.

I had to check whether this story was actually true, the bit about him getting out and going back in, with Mum a couple of days ago. I'd written about it in college years ago, and wasn't sure if I'd embellished for dramatic effect. But, to the best of everyone's knowledge it is true.

Please visit http://www.youandyesterday.co.uk/articles/Cresswell_Colliery:_Eighty_men_entombed_in_coal_mine

Captain Robert Walker isn't mentioned there, but it doesn't matter. We know.

I feel another visit to St John's Church in the village of Clowne, North Derbyshire, where his body is buried, and I was christened, coming on, don't you?

I'm not ignoring my maternal Grandfather Stanley Wood in all of this. He was a wonderful man too, again one I didn't meet unfortunately, and was in the Fire Service during the war, as well as continuing his vocation as a teacher (yes, another one - my Aunty Margaret was one too - so I learned from an early age that it is a calling, not a job. Big respek to anyone that's doing it for a living, even more so these days - but that's a whole other story).

Just phoned Fran, for a quick fact check, and, I quote, "For years after - it seemed - everytime we heard a fire engine we all had to rush to the window to see what was going on".

But my dear Gran, Edna Wood, made a life of standing in her bay window at 50 Inverness Street, Fulwell, Sunderland anyway I fear. She was the surveyor of her street, as my dear Mum does now with her new 'garden room' and French doors at 53 Hemmingfield Road (we think she's won the lottery and not told us, she says she's just spending our inheritance, good on ya Fran!).

I've already told you I have a bay window. Bamboo blinds do a great job of allowing me to see out, but others can't see in - until the light of the day fades and I put my lamps on, then curtains get closed.

So, I must go to drop off some of Bodyline's newsletters at a wedding fair at the Woodlands Hotel - bloody gorgeous place - then buy some print cartridges to enable me to print out press packs, call a courier to collect them to take them down to London for an exibition that my client Meesons is exhibiting at for tomorrow morning, then make myself look halfway respectable as me and Jennie are guests of Fran Walker at a big community/charity luncheon/performance event she's organised. I did say she was 'retired'. She's kidding herself yet again that she will retire after Christmas, she also said the same about the summer just past, last Christmas, the summer before that...you get the picture. She's 65, and will slap me for telling you that, but when I post a pic of her here soon, you'll see she could very easily pass for a young 53. And I'm not just saying that so that I get a nicer Christmas pressie either!


Happy remembering to you all. I'd love to know some of your family stories when you've got a spare few hours. Gizza buzz - email me first and I'll send you me number.

Clancy xxxx