The Writers' Circle

When I was just a young boy I had a number of Hero's. Superman was the first I recollect. A super hero, who could fly at incredible speeds, saving the world against all evil, Superman is a fictitious person and was most schoolboy's super hero.

 I also had a real live hero. Peter Bonnetti the Chelsea and England goalkeeper. Peter was my hero because I played in goals for the school team. Peter was unique I remember his all black strip, his tremendous agility and acrobatic saves.
I tried to replicate all of Peter's style, right down to his all black strip. 
I would lay an old rug out in the back yard, kicking a ball as hard as I could against the wall, flinging myself across to save the ball. 
Yes these were my boyhood hero's like all boys who fantasized at the time were very much a part of my life.

 Its only now reflecting on life, reaching retirement, that my true and lasting hero was a person who was the reason for my life, 'my father'. 

My twin sister and I were born in 1941. Dad was at war and we never met him till we were almost five. Whilst it is not a vivid picture of our first meeting I have a hazy recollection.
I suppose because my mum was so excited at his arrival. What stood out were his soft melting eyes that seemed to twinkle as he looked deep into your eyes, and over the years be a very significant reason for my admiration for the man, who was my dad.

The war cruelly cut short his very successful football career. He had been a professional with Oldham Athletic, Grimsby Town and Nottingham Forest. On his return he was too old to return to his football and with no real idea what he would do. 
Uncle Norman got him work in an abattoir. He was totally out of sorts it felt like a prison to him. Fresh air and fanatical fitness had been his life; he couldn't cope with being hemmed in.
.
Taking a big gamble he packed in his job and started his own window cleaning round.
 I was too young to really appreciate the extent of this gamble and at his determination to succeed. Not only did he set up his window cleaning round. He also set up developing and printing photo's in a little shed out in the back yard, topping up his earnings. 

A little later he also got an allotment were he would grow vegetables, tomatoes, chrysanthemums selling to customers. He was quite an entrepreneur. It is only now that I appreciate just how much his drive and determination to provide for his family has had on my life.  

Taking on all this work was a very tiring and consuming, yet on top of this he would devote time to take me to Oldham Athletic. As an ex player he was quite a celebrity. I remember a number of occasion's people making comments about his days at the club. Famous for his penalty kicks, and his dazzling runs down the wing. He had obviously been a star in his day.

 I also remember we would go and pick up a very disabled boy in a wheelchair. His father owned ODonald's Ice cream. It was quite a climb taking him home, but dad would religiously every home game take him to the match. 
The joy Peter would show as we arrived to take him is etched in my mind for ever.

A man of very few words I don't ever remember dad either hitting or shouting at me.
 He would often sit in front of me and look deep into my eyes if he wanted to question something I had done. It was those warm gentle eyes that sought the truth, you just couldn't lie.   

During my growing up I remember a number of occasions that made me feel that I had an extraordinary dad. He once fell off his ladder from top to bottom jarring his back, walking home with his ladder, he climbed into a hot bath with vinegar, soaking for hours; then, for a full week, lay in bed until the bruising came out. Mum wanted him to go to hospital. But he said they would only do what he was doing. 

Much later in his life he broke his thigh bone. He was 80 odd. Amazed the hospital staff with his endurance to overcome the break. It was feared that he may not walk again. Whilst in bed he used the overhead bar to do pull ups to strengthen his arms, ready to use the walking sticks, he knew he would need to walk again. 
He seemed to have a unique resistance to pain, overcoming it, using the technique of mind over matter.

He had been asked on many occasions by a local football club, if he would manage them. Eventually he succumbed to there plea's. It became one of the most successful amateur clubs in the area, called Chadderton FC, building the club from one team to four teams, for players from 15 to open age. 

Not only did he build up a formidable team but also a committee that was dedicated in making the club successful. Just like the Busby Babes at the famous Manchester United, the Dyson Babes at Chadderton, provided a conveyer belt of young and talented players for the future of the club. Today Chadderton FC remembers Jimmy Dyson 50 years on, some of those dad coached are now committee men keeping his dream alive.

In his retirement that lasted almost 30years. He was 93 when he died. You can say he and mum. Who also lived to a healthy 86, had the most happy and enjoyable retirement.  Keeping young and healthy, taking long walks regular, dad would go bowling at the vets club. During football season even though he wasn't a committee man, would go and watch his beloved Chadderton FC whoever was at home.



 At the start of each year he and mum would take a month's holiday abroad, setting themselves up with a nice sun tan and healthy start to the year.
At the start of our summer visiting my eldest sister Mavis who had a Hotel in Blackpool with plenty of walks along the Blackpool prom, they both looked the picture of health.
 Then to my twin sister Judith's, who lives in the most wonderful part of the country Church Stretton in Shropshire. 
They would go down to stop for about a month, two weeks whilst Judith and family were on holiday, and the last two weeks with them. Dad would cut the very big lawns, and take the dog long walks.  Playing bowls at the local park were he became a big favourite with the senior's side, showing his competitive edge that he never lost. 

He was my hero for the way he showed by example the way to live your life to the full. 
Quotes he often used to us;
 'Hard work never killed anyone,'
 And 
Early to bed early to rise makes a man 'healthy,' healthy and wise.

Today having lived my life in his footsteps. Following many of the examples he set.
Knowing just how exiting a life had been for him, I feel so very fortunate he was 'My Dad'.