A tribute from Jonathan Williamson, Michael's Godson

I have been asked by Marjorie’s surviving brothers Stan and John to speak about Michael & Marjorie …

Michael was born in Scarborough and remained a proud Yorkshireman throughout his life. He attended school there and graduated from Durham University with a language degree. He spent a year in Alsace shortly afterwards, teaching. His first teaching post in the UK was at Fulneck School near Leeds where he met another proud Yorkshireman and newly qualified teacher, my Father. They became great friends, and remained so as each moved on to similar roles as Housemasters at different boarding schools.

Marjorie was born and raised in Ipswich, the 5th child of 8 in the family. She left school at 14 to go and work as a kitchen maid with her favourite Aunt Lottie in the kitchens at Ipswich School. Marjorie occasionally helped with the younger school boarders and, as time passed, was given increasing responsibilities which was the start of her career as a school Matron. She spent some time as a Matron at St.Edmund’s School Kesgrave before taking a post as a Matron at Brambletye School in East Grinstead where she became great friends with another Matron there, Evelyn Higginbotham. The two eventually moved on to open a shop called The Bluebird in Chapel Place, Tunbridge Wells where they sold newspapers, sweets, hot drinks and sandwiches. By all accounts they did well. When Evelyn met Stan and planned to be married, Marjorie returned to Suffolk taking a position as a Matron at Woolverstone Hall School.

Michael arrived at Woolverstone Hall School in 1954 serving as Housemaster of Berner’s House. Marjorie joined the school in 1958 and Michael and Marjorie were married in August 1960 at St. Michael’s Church, Woolverstone. An old boy, who himself arrived at Woolverstone in 1958, said that even to the newly arrived first formers, it was obvious that Michael & Marjorie would become an item.

Michael & Marjorie were clearly held in high regard by everyone at Woolverstone Hall as the many comments from old boys that I have come across demonstrate. Here are a selection …

  • My abiding memory of Shakey is of him striding into the French room at the top of the Main Building at the beginning of the first lesson after Assembly and using his gown tails to clean the blackboard. It was obvious that he considered that this was the most appropriate use for that item of clothing (Assembly being the only time that he was seen to wear it).

  • Shakey was at WHS for 26 years; what it was is down to dedicated teachers like him and other long-serving teachers who provided priceless continuity. He was my first housemaster, and I don't remember a single occasion when I felt he was ever unfair or mean or vindictive; always the opposite. He took us on trips, ran the badminton and was, for me, always positive.

  • We used to go once a term for a dinner and TV. About 6 or 8 of us. You were always treated like grown-ups.

  • Shakey was annoyingly good at tennis… I remember him saying "Zut alors!" all the time.

  • As an end of term prank my friend was climbing the drainpipe up to the roof of the main building in the dark when, nearing the top, an adjacent window opened and Shakey looked out at the climber. 'Do you have your housemaster's permission to be here?' he asked with a straight face. What prevented my mate falling to the ground with the shock I'll never know.

  • I will never forget Shaky's crack shot aim with a chalk board rubber in French class and that streak of white in his quiff which I was never sure was actually white through the stress of having to teach us a second foreign language (the first being correct English) or whether it was chalk dust he'd rubbed through.

  • Six of my seven years were in Berners House with Shaky & Mini running the place. I think he managed Berners extremely well considering the number of boys to oversee. Shaky and Mini were good people, honest, kind and fair. He commanded respect even though I hated French more than any other experience at school.

  • An expert at spinning exercise books back through the air to his pupils even if you were thirty feet back in the classroom on the top floor of the main building!

  • When he wasn’t erupting, he was drilling French verbs into us in compelling fashion and taught with an animated passion that means I can actually hold a moderate conversation in French when drunk!

  • Mr Shakeshaft was an unforgettable teacher who, despite our miscreant behaviour and determination to cause him as much difficulty as possible, still managed to embed the French language into my consciousness, but his obvious passion for teaching and his patience taught me more than just French. RIP Michael and Marjorie.

  • Throughout all this of course, Marjorie remained the perfect foil. In contrast to Michael’s frequently frantic, somewhat disorganised and often spikey character, she was always calm, caring, thoughtful and organised. They thrived together and continued to do so in retirement. To us, they simply became known as M&M and it became impossible to imagine one without the other.

My parents invited M&M to be my Godparents in 1965 and when Stephanie, a daughter to Marjorie’s great friend Evelyn and her husband Stan, arrived M&M became Godparents again. We remember Michael’s piano-playing – frequently hymns – and his insistence that he “couldn’t cope with more than 4 sharps or flats you know…” actually pretty impressive …

Michael was an incredibly quick eater, though always somewhat messy. Laying the table and especially carrying crockery was always something of a lottery, and no set of china they owned was ever complete for long!

He was also an enthusiastic and skilled gardener and almost every meal was blessed by the inclusion of something that was home grown. Marjorie was a super cook and a great jam, marmalade and chutney-maker. No visit to us passed without the gift of a jar of something homemade and a contribution from the garden, usually so fresh that the soil came too …

M&M both loved tennis and watched as much as they could, frequently staying up well into the night to watch such tournaments as the Australian Open.

Card games with us were a particular favourite and the prime seat was always the one next to Michael who was so spectacularly easy to wind up. He found the temptation to look at other people’s cards too much to resist. “No… no… why didn’t you play THAT one?.” Marjorie took all this in her stride of course: “Oooh, he does get cross doesn’t he!” she would remark light-heartedly. Frequently Michael offered to keep the score in his own way with totals randomly moving to other parts of the page in his unique spidery writing. It’s odd how often he still seemed to win though …

The Telegraph crossword was a daily favourite, which they would do independently. Michael drawing out his own grid in an old school exercise book, and Marjorie completing the one in the paper – they would then compare notes.

M&M travelled widely in early retirement. A trip on the Orient Express was a particularly fond memory for them both. They loved their 2-berth caravan, regularly taking it abroad, but every year or so they made a conscious decision to wind down, selling the caravan and moving to coach holidays, and then deciding not to travel abroad at all. Some years later the car went. There never seemed to be any regret or emotion at these decisions; they were simply the sensible thing to do in response to the advancing years.

It really came as no surprise therefore that when Michael’s dementia reached the stage where he had to go into a home that Marjorie’s response was:“Well, if he’s going into a home I might as well go with him.” It was the sensible thing to do, but they desperately wanted to remain together.

We were so lucky to find Merryfields Care Home, where M&M were installed about a year ago. They were obviously happy there, and well cared for. The final photo of them together, taken at Merryfields at Christmas time, shows them sitting together at a table holding hands and wearing suitably silly festive elven hats - the table placemat in front of Michael is covered with crumbs! It captures beautifully their lasting enjoyment of life and continued devotion to each other. In many ways it is entirely proper that neither of them was left to grieve for the other. We never could imagine one without the other, and so here we are …

On what was to be our last visit to M&M in Merryfields in mid-January they were still so beautifully together. Sitting side by side with Marjorie doing almost all of the talking which had become common with Michael's advancing dementia. At one point she turned to Michael and he perked up, as if preparing to contribute to the discussion:

Marjorie: “Oh him… don’t take any notice of him. He always disagrees with everything I say anyway…”

Michael: “Hmmmm?”

Marjorie: “Never mind luvvie… I said you always disagree with everything I say…”

Michael: “NO I DON’T!”

My parents died relatively young. My father knew Sue, but died the year before we were married. Neither of my parents knew Lucy and Ben our – now grown up – children. M&M never had children of their own but served as “Boarding School Parents” to hundreds of boys who attended Woolverstone Hall School in its heyday, boys who were away from home for the first time in their lives, not knowing what to expect. M&M were an important part of the staff at the school who provided not only education but also the stability, security, and encouragement that these young men needed – this wasn’t just teaching, this was as thorough a preparation for adult life as could be delivered. Hundreds benefitted and countless former pupils not only have fond memories of the school, but also acknowledge the part that it, and its staff, played in their lives. That is indeed an impressive legacy.

When Lucy, and then Ben, were born M&M became Honorary Grandparents, a role which they embraced with enthusiasm and love. I guess, in a way, it was a natural follow on in retirement to the way that they had cared for so many youngsters during their professional lives. Certainly it was the sensible thing to do, and a mark of the great friendship that they both had with my own parents, but they also clearly loved every minute, and we always loved seeing them. Michael took a particular interest when Lucy chose History and FRENCH for her degree. Like so many of the comments I have heard from WHS old boys and staff our memories are the same as yours: M&M were always positive, always fair and always so caring. We will all miss them but they leave behind a lasting impression on all of us, in so many ways, and for all the right reasons.