Michael Grant Nelson - Eulogy

Most of you here knew our father from the second half of his life, and so did we. He was 44 when Michael was born, and 50 when Rosemary arrived.  Nonetheless he was very much a family man, who treasured weekends and holidays.

He was an active member of local life, as some of you know; others will remember him from West Buckland School, where he taught for 13 years.  We are sure there is a wealth of memories present today, and we would like to thank you all for attending to commemorate his life and character.

Early life

Michael was born in Portsmouth in 1936; war was declared the day after his third birthday, and he was evacuated with his mother to Wiltshire. Growing up, his father ran a business selling second-hand cars and the family lived in a terraced house in Cosham. He had two brothers - David five years older, Patrick five years younger - who shaped his whole life.  A natural and articulate storyteller, he wove tales of their childhood reminiscent of books like Swallows and Amazons - or perhaps of the Just William series, given the misdemeanour count!

One of his favourite stories involved the boys discovering part of an old wooden boat and turning it into a raft with the aid of some petrol cans for stability. They would take the raft out to float around for an hour or two, securing it between excursions by suspending it under Langstone Bridge, so that it would only be accessible by swimming out at high tide. 

Our Uncle David, however, fancied a bigger adventure, and early one morning they set off for the open sea, thinking little of the obvious dangers posed by the racing current at the harbour mouth. Remarkably, they managed to stay close to Hayling Island, where they paddled onto land to explore, stealing some sweets from a closed kiosk before exploiting the incoming tide to steer their raft back up the creek to its mooring.

Another time, the boys camped in a tent on Hayling Island. Their parents ensured they were settled, then would return every few days to check in.  This left them with huge freedom and opportunity for mischief.

Late one night, they entered the fairground under cover of darkness. Michael, at 10 or 11 being the youngest, kept watch, whilst the others broke into the rifle range and selected an air rifle together with a two-pound tin of pellets.

They shared the air rifle during the rest of the holiday, using it to shoot at windows of an empty house they discovered.

In school, Michael attained well, winning a prize on his 5th form Speech day; however, for reasons which remain unclear, the headmaster refused him entrance to sixth form. His academic success was not repeated at the municipal college, where he passed only one A Level (English) - achieving 93% in the Latin mock but failing the actual exam.  He was expelled.  Somehow, he managed to hide this from his parents! Instead, he signed up for art school but never settled on a discipline.

Capable of an active interest in almost every subject going, Michael struggled to get started at independent life.

Along came National Service. Michael did think that this might be his career - he signed up for the educational corps for better income but ultimately concluded that military life was very much not for him! He once gave a talk to the local WI of “his war with the British Army” but left with the best conduct report possible – acclaimed as a keen cricketer, good marksman, and intelligent to boot.

Banking/Africa

In our father’s own words, ‘Like many a wastrel I made good in the colonies.’ In his 20s, he emigrated to become a bank manager. He spent 14 years in Nigeria, rising to become Chief Inspector of the Bank of the North.

During Michael’s time with the bank, it grew from only six branches to 17. One complex task he was entrusted with was the opening of a new branch in Gusau, from scratch - he had to find a suitable building, draw up plans, supervise the building works, hire and train the staff - but also, he had to develop an all-new manual accounting system, to be rolled out to other new branches, as the rural electricity supply was often unreliable - of course, he embraced the challenge!

He had to adapt to the local way of living - foregoing the powerful air conditioning unit provided by head office when he realised that it was causing his neighbours’ lights to go out each time it ran its 20-second cycle. He did, though, enjoy taking his showers outside under the gutter during the wet season, like the locals.

On the day Gusau branch opened, he was gratified to hear a local praise-singer cycling up and down the main street calling out, “Sarkin kudi! Ya na zuwa! Misiter Nelison! Sarkin kudi! Bank ob ti Nort!” which translated means: ‘King of money! He has come! Mister Nelson! King of Money! Bank of the North!’”

Our father’s time in Nigeria generated so many stories - many of you will recall his opening words, “When I was in Maiduguri…” or Lagos or Jos… Sometimes they seemed far-fetched - badminton with John Major, the discovery that his pet monkey had been ingested by a snake, or attending Fela Kuti’s club and being invited to share a drink with him afterwards. Even living through the horrors of the Civil War and being held at gunpoint at a military checkpoint.

Although living the high life, Michael remained true to his principles. On becoming manager of one particular branch, he was shocked to discover the local employees were being paid significantly less than their European colleagues. He immediately - without checking with his superiors - increased their pay to an equal level and issued back payments to rectify the situation.

The time came when the best jobs were rightly handed over to the locals, and Michael returned to the UK. He started working for Ladwoods Bank, investing his savings into it as was expected. When the bank went under, he lost them all; luckily although working as a bank manager by day, he ran a hot dog van at night.

University of York/PGCE

Now approaching his 40s, Michael applied to the University of York, initially to study Chemistry but eventually graduating with a degree in English and Philosophy.

He threw himself into University life, living on campus in student accommodation, and signing up to any society which would give him the chance to try something new.

He joined the student parachuting club. He twisted his knee painfully while landing, after underestimating his weight. He had signed up with two younger students to spend the long summer holiday cycling to Istanbul, and worried the injury might prevent this, but a physio reassured him that cycling would aid recovery. Michael took his bicycle, equipped with only five gears, to a mechanic and had the lowest gear made even lower (for crossing the Alps, laden with front and rear panniers).

In France, he became separated from his two companions, but continued alone, sleeping by the side of the road. Sleeping under railway arches in northern Italy, he was woken and moved on by a local policeman. The trip made good stories – his back wheel buckled after hitting cobbles at speed, friendly locals hosted and fed him, and he slept in a monastery call, somewhere in eastern Europe…He did complete the journey, too, unlike his original companions.

In his second attempt at a first year, he attended an event where the Provost was meeting new students, and there met Sylvia, a post-graduate student in the same college. He asked her for a drink afterwards. Later, they would go for countryside trips in his Austin Allegro (which he called an Austin Andante), and they would sometimes take over two student kitchens from adjacent corridors to cook together.

After graduating, he and Sylvia moved to Portsmouth, where Michael Junior was born. Seven months later, they married and honeymooned in the south of France; our brother’s first camping trip!

Our father took his PGCE in Southampton, and started his first teaching post in Doncaster, where Katie was born.

Teaching & North Molton

In 1983, Michael was employed to teach English at West Buckland School. He remained there for 13 years, and in North Molton for the rest of his life. He often expressed pleasure at his short, rural commute, which he found rather idyllic. 

He was a dedicated teacher and rightly proud of the year his bottom set GCSE class achieved a full pass rate.

Whilst there, and with two children on the scene, he trained for a half marathon in Taunton in 1985. As he approached the finish line on the day, he realised those running the full marathon were simply running a second lap, so he carried on and doubled the length of his run - what exceptional willpower!  He went on to run more marathons - five in one year.

As children, he would take us out on Sunday walks, enthusing about the benefits of time outdoors.  With the school, he accompanied pupils walking the Two Moors Way and was the only teacher who completed the full distance.

Always a performer and man of words, at school he sang in the choir, acted in staff plays, made the tannoy announcements on sports day, and ran the press office.

You might think this would keep a man busy enough, but he was also a member of the North Molton Amateur Dramatic Society (NOMADS), sang in the choir at the local church and played organ during services.  A parish councillor, he took a school governor post at North Molton Primary whilst we attended; he did not shy away from responsibility and was excellent at making a case; this could be seen when the new school was won, with him as their press officer.

I didn’t realise at the time how busy he must have been. Looking back, I understand how he took so much pleasure in the things like reading to his children, blackberry picking, Christmases visiting family, or our summer holidays in France.

Retirement

When our father retired from school in 1996, we were still young. He took on several jobs for which he was vastly overqualified, not only to support the family but to enable each of us to pursue our extra-curricular interests without hindrance.

He had a boundless urge to engage with opportunity and was a believer in lifelong learning. He went back to North Devon College, as a mature student for a second time, to study for a BTech in computing. This led to a job at PC World, where he threw himself into the salesman role which he had so admired in his father and younger brother, striving to achieve the top sales figures in the store.

Away from work, Michael continued his love of music, focusing on ragtime piano as well as singing with a number of choirs. He discovered the local open mic scene and became a keen member of Bideford Folk Club. He would research songs and monologues from the musical hall era and loved to find a clever piece of writing - Tom Lehrer, Les Barker - that could dissolve his audience into tears of laughter. He committed dozens to memory and could deliver them one after another without prompt. It was a cruel irony that his exceptional language skills and memory were ultimately lost to vascular dementia.

After suffering a TIA in 2009, Michael became obsessive about his health, walking 20,000 steps per day well into his 80s. He took great care with his diet and would give up alcohol in the new year, not just for dry January, but until the end of Lent. It was always a joy to see him fall off the wagon on Easter Sunday!

Conclusion

Michael was passionately anti-war. He was proud to join Veterans for Peace and would often attend London for meetings of Conscience, a group campaigning for tax law amendments to accommodate conscientious objectors. 

He had an admirable ability to appreciate his lot. We would often hear, "This is the life" at simple pleasure like sitting in warm sun with a beer, and he was always appreciative of our mother's cooking and care.

As his health deteriorated, she showed extraordinary devotion in caring for our father at home, ensuring his days were filled with comfort, dignity and love. We must thank all of the friends and neighbours who assisted whenever they were called upon – we are so grateful.

He had his eccentricities, but also a strong sense of justice and fairness, and was always encouraging, generous, and blessed with a strong drive both to improve himself and effect change in the world around him. He was articulate whether educating, arguing a point or providing entertainment, and in all these activities, enriched the lives of those around him. He was a man of many interests, and with our mother at his side to support and provide care, he set each of us up well on our own paths. We will miss him such a lot but are grateful that he leaves us with so many entertaining stories, lessons grounded in clear values, and wisdom earned through a life lived with intention and integrity.