The Magnificent 7 Dine at the George

The numbers at the last gathering the City Diners were somewhat reduced, there just being a “Magnificent Seven”! Sadly we were too busy talking, drinking and eating to take any photos. I can assure you that it was a splendid occasion and this Old Askean thoroughly enjoyed himself. The soporific effects of beer and wine almost caused me to miss my train station on the way home, but I awoke in time – just!

Do come along and join us next time as there is plenty of money in the wine fund!!! Barry Mellish

Funeral of Brian Burgess – 31st August at 10:15am UPDATE

The funeral service is at Randall’s Park Crematorium, on Wednesday 31st August 2022 at 10:15 am. The family ask attendees to arrive by 10:00. there is ample parking on site. A live stream of the service will also be available, details to follow.”

If you intend to be at the funeral it would be appreciated if you could let Toni know, to help re numberstonic1641@hotmail.co.uk

*Donations via brian-burgess.muchloved.com

Streaming details:

Name Brian Burgess

LocationRandalls Park Crematorium,

Leatherhead -Wednesday 31/08/2022 10:15

Use the PIN number below to access your webcast

Webcast Login PIN 817-4258

https://www.wesleymedia.co.uk/webcast-view

Mike Nicholls 1943 -2023

Taken from the Old Askean Magazine in his presidential year of 2017:
Mike was born in South East London in 1943 and joined Aske’s in 1954. He tells me his mother was interviewed by Ned Goddard whilst he was interviewed by Charlie Prince; his dad was working as a lorry driver for a Waste Paper Company so really couldn’t afford to take time off. Mike says that Ned was quite a daunting gure for his mum but she was certainly not afraid of him. Ned said that his Maths was quite good but his English left room for improvement. He didn’t seem to realise that a different kind of English was spoken in the Old Kent Road area says Mike!
He captained the 3rd Eleven School cricket team and left Aske’s in 1962 with three A Levels and several O Levels. His first job after leaving Aske’s was with Distillers Company for a year and he then studied at the Borough Polytechnic for four years taking a “Sandwich” course in Chemical Technology specialising in Polymer Technology. Following that he worked for Gillette Industries for 3 years and then another 3 years for Van Leers, a Dutch packaging Company who produced steel and plastic drums for the oil industry.
By this time his father had started his own business in the waste paper recycling industry and, since Mike had always wanted to run his own business, he joined his father in the family business in the mid-seventies that later expanded into condential data destruction. The family business currently operates from two sites in the Blackwall Tunnel area and, having passed on the family business to his son, he is soon to retire.
He tells me he will always be grateful for the education he received at Aske’s which was only possible by having brilliant and supportive parents.
He currently lives in Petts Wood and has a son, two daughters and grandchildren and, because it is impossible to go through life without suffering some disadvantages, his wife and himself are, like our ex-President, Charlton season ticket-holders.

Askean Rugby Club Dinner – 31 March 2023

Askean Rugby Club End of Season Dinner

When – Friday31 March 2023 Doors Open 7pm, Sit Down 8pm
Where – Rectory Field,
What – Two Course Meal, Complementary “Champagne” Bar, Presentation of Awards, Plus Excellent Speeches
Cost – All at approx £25 a head.

Contact- Steve Homewood or Ian Lunn

Old Askean Magazine

Dear all,

If you are a member of the Old Askean Association you should have received the latest edition of the OAA Magazine within which is my request for your contributions. 

It had been produced just before the sad news broke of the passing of HRH Queen Elizabeth so you will notice it was lacking any reference to her, but I was hoping you could help me fill the pages of the next edition with any personal stories, photographs etc of any experiences you may have had with this remarkable lady.

As a general guide for this, or any contribution, ideal article length would be between 180 (half page) and 720 (two pages) word count.  This is a guide and not a rule so if you have something which is a little more lengthy to submit please feel free.      

Many thanks in advance,

Gary Bunce, (Editor of the the Old Askean)

George Martin RIP

It was a moving funeral ceremony with emotional tributes from his son Kim and grandson David, both celebrating the 92 years that George had graced the playing fields at Kidbrooke.

George played in every team for Askeans and in his later years, was captain of the most successful side – the B’s which went unbeaten for two seasons.

There is a saying that “They broke the mould when they made him”.

It’s a phrase that applies in spades to George Martin, a man who was Team Secretary for a staggering total of 36 years, a fact that drew a collective intake of breath at the service.

Even those of us who had been members of the club for over 5 decades didn’t realise just how long George had been working his magic in getting teams out every week of the season.

Long before mobile phones and email, George handled getting Askean teams onto the various pitches, not just in Kent and London, but all over the country. A tough enough job until you remember that Askeans ran 7 teams each week of the season. For the mathematically challenged that’s over 100 players! If someone dropped out from the Princes, George had to make at least 14 calls to organise a reshuffling and to let the captains know of the changes. Hoping that he could reach all the players concerned at home….not easy on a Friday night before the pubs shut!

And he did this for 36 years…no wonder he lost his hair…..I suspect he might have pulled it out himself!

Not only was he a cornerstone of the Club for such a long time, but the finest tribute, which was much repeated yesterday was ‘He was such a lovely man’

By George..they got that right!

This Tribute to George was written by Shutey aka Dave Shute

City Diners – Small but perfectly formed!

There were just the eight of us that gathered at George Inn on Friday 16th September for our luncheon with invited guests. There would have been two more, but they arrived 24 hours early and could not be bothered to wait! (They could have joined the queue to see Her Majesty and then come back to the George!) After the Old Askean Grace we stood for a minutes silence in memory of our fallen sovereign, Queen Elizabeth II.

The food, as always at the George was good, wholesome and very tasty. Beer battered fish Goujons (almost a main course in itself) were followed by British Steak & Ale Pie with seasoned greens and Triple Cooked Chips. Only one of the party could manage the desert of afternoon cheese cake with Clotted cream cheesecake, strawberry jam, scone pieces, strawberries. As per tradition the food was accompanied by lashings of wine and beer.

An excellent repast and a chance to renew the acquaintances of our youth. Many thanks to Mr Homewood for organising. I for one will be the there, God willing, for the next meeting of this august group.

The Magnificent Eight

Brian Burgess – Obituary by his son Stuart

Many thanks Mark and hello everybody.

There are many faces here I know, but there are also many that I don’t, so for those of you I don’t know, I am Stuart, Brian’s son. And the fact that I don’t know you all is enormously gratifying as it means that there are people that I have never met in whose lives Dad played a part, and who cared for him enough to come today. On behalf of myself Carol, Kate, Toni and Dena, we would like to thank you all for the cards and kind messages of support you have sent. Also, thanks to your donations to the Alzheimer’s Society, we have currently raised over £1,100.

So, Dad, Brian, Burge, Uncle Brian, Grandpa, most of you here will have known Dad by one of those names. For the purposes of today, to avoid any confusion, I will call him Dad. Because to me and Kate, he was Dad. But he was also all of those other people too. To Carol. He was Burge, to Toni and Dena he was Uncle Brian, to his many friends and colleagues here today, he was Brian, and to Eleanor, Francis, Alice and Tom, he was Grandpa

No matter how well you know someone, there are always parts of their lives, or parts of their character about which you know very little. For instance, I know very little of Dad’s work life. I knew what he did, I knew he was successful, but I never saw him in action, so to speak. I never saw him as his work colleagues saw him. Also, there are many of his old colleagues here that may never have seen him as, and may find it difficult to imagine him as “Grandpa”. With this in mind, as well as myself, there will be some other people speaking today. Dad’s great friend and long- time colleague Phil Brown will tell us more about what Dad was like to work with, and the grandkids, will tell us about Grandpa. Between us, hopefully we can pull together the various strands that made up his character, and give a flavour of all of the elements that made him the man he was

He was born Brian Edward Burgess in Camberwell South East London on 1st June 1941, to Robert and Iris Burgess. For the first 4 years of his life, his Dad, (henceforth known as Grandad Burge) was away fighting in the war, primarily in Italy and North Africa. (If you have read Spike Milligan’s war memoirs, Grandad Burge was involved in the same manoeuvres as Milligan’s regiment). As a result, Dad spent his early years primarily with his Mum (henceforth known as Nanny Burge). Nans sister Auntie Beat lived nearby with her daughters Margaret, Jean and Maureen, and Dad grew up very close to his cousins. I am delighted that Maureen is here today together with Don, Andy, Melanie, Debs and Linda and it’s also great to see Margaret’s son Paul here with his wife Chris. 

Shortly after the war, Dad’s brother Peter was born and the family moved into a new council property in Edmund Street. The family were not poor, I don’t want to overstate things, but they were certainly not wealthy. Grandad Burge worked as a carpenter and Nanny Burge did various factory jobs to keep things ticking over. Now one thing we can probably all agree on was that Dad was very focussed, hard-working and ambitious, and I think these early years helped to shape his drive and his determination to better himself. 

He won a scholarship to Haberdashers Askes school at the age of 11, and at 18, became the first member of his family to go to University, studying Electrical Engineering at Northampton College, which is part of City University. He was bright, but he was also a believer in the phrase, “Genius is 99% perspiration and 1% inspiration”. He worked hard to achieve his goals, and he continued to work hard throughout his life.

He joined the London Electricity Board (or the Liquorice Light Board as he insisted on calling it for some reason) and during this period he married Mum and had two children (me and Kate). After a few years Dad decide the LEB did not offer enough opportunity and he left electrical engineering to join the Management Consulting Firm , PE Consulting. I am not sure how long he had the urge to work abroad but I do recall some talk of us moving to Nigeria in 1970. This did not happen but 2 years later we moved to Rhodesia, where Dad joined RISCO, (The Rhodesian Iron and Steel Company) based in Redcliff. This was Dad’s entry into the mining industry, an association that would last the rest of his working life. 

Redcliff was right in the middle of the country, and in terms of environment, about as different from Camberwell as you could get. And Dad loved it. He embraced the African lifestyle, and indeed he went on to spend the best part of 20 years working in Africa. There was a real feel-good atmosphere in Redcliff, a lot of young bright ex pats working hard and affording themselves a life they could have only dreamt about in the UK. However, after 5 years or so, the political situation in Rhodesia was becoming increasing volatile so in early 1978, Dad moved to Rossing, part of RTZ, based in Swakopmund in Namibia. 

At the time of moving to Rossing, Mum and Dad divorced and Kate and myself returned to UK with Mum. We lived apart from Dad, indeed several 1000 miles apart for the best part of 15 years. During that time Dad never let me or Kate feel as though we were unloved or that he did not think about us and our welfare every day. We knew he loved us, cared for us and fiercely wanted the best for us and would do everything he could to help us achieve it. 

Around this time Dad, married Carol and became “Uncle Brian” to her young daughters Toni and Dena, who I think were 7 and 5 at the time. Again, they were never in doubt that he loved them as his own and would do anything for them. He never took his parental responsibilities anything less than seriously, and none of us are in any doubt that he did everything he could for us.

As I said earlier Phil will be talking of Dads time with Rossing and RTZ shortly, so we now fast forward 20 years to 1998.  Dad and Carol had returned to the UK, and were living in Ewell and Dad had just retired.

Now I think it’s fair to say all of us were worried about Dad retiring. He was so dedicated to his work, so focussed and driven that I think we all feared he would go crazy with boredom, not to mention what his continued presence in the house would do to Carol. But Dad just focussed his drive and energy into other areas. He and Carol travelled widely, Cuba, Japan, Thailand, Vietnam and many more, often in the company of Carol’s sister Thelma and her husband Roy, and it’s great to see Thelma here today. He was an enthusiastic member of the Old Askean’s Rambling Association, and took on the role of treasurer for around 10 years. He also, together with his partner in crime Charles French was a stalwart member of the Seymour Avenue resident’s association, and again it’s good to see so many of his friends, neighbours and fellow ramblers here today. Most crucially though, when he retired, he had just become a Grandpa, as Eleanor was 6 months old. And Dad absolutely loved being a Grandpa. But there are people far better placed to talk about Grandpa than me, so I will leave it to them shortly.

On a wider level, family was always very important to Dad. He loved seeing Maureen and Don for lunch, and kept in regular contact with his brother Peter’s wife Carol. When we kids started to form relationships and get married, he and Carol embraced our partners into the family. My wife Debbie was welcomed by Dad and Carol from the word go, and both Kate’s husband Jon and Toni’s husband Jonathan managed to attain “Approved Son in Law” status, which is no mean feat. He was even prepared to live with the fact that Jon is Welsh. Though Jon has observed that Dad was always very quick to text when England beat Wales at the rugby

He loved family gatherings. In his later years when the family were together, he would usually start tapping his wine glass and then launch into a speech about how much he loved us all, and how proud of us he was. We never doubted it, but he felt the need to remind us. He would sometimes get tearful and say how he wished Nanny Burge could have been here to see all the Grandkids and how well they were doing. But mostly he would tell us how lucky he was, though in truth it was us who were the lucky ones.

Dad always enjoyed a good debate when the family was gathered and politics was a favourite topic, with Dad being a life-long Tory voter. We kept hoping that he would see the light and embrace socialism but he never did. This lead to some hearty family discussions, which usually panned out as Dad versus the 4 kids. Toni always said that Dad had raised us to stand up for ourselves and not be afraid to argue our point of view. He then seemed a bit affronted when it transpired that our points of view did not always align with his and we started arguing with him. We always said that it was a testament to his good parenting that he had raised 4 socialists. And Dad loved a debate right up until the end. Toni’s husband Jonathan remembers at family gatherings that Dad would tip him the wink and then throw a conversational hand grenade, usually involving Boris, or Jeremy Corbyn, just to see who would react. And we always did.

Dad also had a great sense of humour. Many of you here today have commented on how funny and quick witted he could be. He had a few “go to” gags: whenever anyone told him he had food in his moustache he would say he is saving it for Ron – later Ron. He also used to do this thing when he said he’d only had one glass of wine and then slip his elbow off the table – all the kids will be able to demonstrate this to you later.

He enjoyed a good laugh and when he lost it his shoulders would go up and down, and tears would come into his eyes. He had an eclectic taste in humour. He loved the Goon Show, Bluebottle, Eccles Major Bloodnok et al, and Dad would frequently for no apparent reason say, “He’s fallen in the water”. One of his favourite bits was Eccles having the time written down on a piece of paper. Think about it. We were considering playing the Ying Tong song as you were coming in to the service today, but Carol actually does a great version of it so we might be able to persuade her to give you a rendition later.

As an aside, I had to register Dad’s death at Guildford registry office. This is the same place that Peter Sellers got married to Britt Ekland in 1964. As a Goon fan, Dad would have loved that.

Other of Dad’s favourites were less sophisticated. The Mel Brooks movie “Spaceballs” which was a take-off of Star Wars would have him giggling his head off as the leading character “Dark Helmet” accelerated his space ship from Warp Speed to Ludicrous Speed. He also really liked, and I will say this only once, “Allo Allo”. There’s no accounting for taste

He was not a religious man but he did seem to think there was some supernatural force controlling all the traffic lights to turn red just as he approached. Also, in the last few years when he begrudgingly agreed to give up driving, he did not let this stop him from hurling abuse at other road users from the passenger seat. “What’s that clown doing?” “Get a move on”. You get the picture. Patience may be a virtue, but it was not one of Dad’s. This trait he seems to have passed down the family.

He wasn’t perfect- he could be bad tempered, cantankerous, he had a short fuse, and Carol bore most of the brunt of this. But Carol was a wonderful foil for Dad, supportive but not afraid to take him down a peg or two when required. And it was required fairly often. He ate and drank too much, again traits some, if not all of us kids have inherited. Though I think only Kate has taken on his partiality to bacon fat. The doctors constantly told him to cut down. He did for a period of about 6 months a few years back. But it made him unhappy, so he started again. I think his philosophy was that he would rather have 2 years enjoying life than 5 years being miserable.

So whilst it is very sad that he has gone, it is very easy to celebrate him today, because his was a life well lived. Everyone who met him mentioned that he enjoyed life, he was a character, he was the life and soul of most gatherings he attended. And as I said at the start, he made an impact on many, many people.

On a personal level, some people have said that I am like him. They may mean I am a grumpy and cantankerous old git who drinks too much. But I am always flattered when people say this because Dad had so many positive characteristics. He was very generous especially with good food and wine. Funny, clever, kind, fiercely loyal to friends and protective of his family. 

He had such strength of character and strength of purpose, nothing daunted him. If confronted with a difficult situation at work I would often think, “How would Dad have dealt with this”. Sometimes this helped. Being honest sometimes it made things worse, but hey no one has a 100% success rate.

There is a song by Peter Gabriel called “Father Son”. If you haven’t heard it, please take some time to listen to it, it is one of the most moving songs I have ever heard. It contains the lines

“I can hold back the tide, with my Dad by my side”

And I think that was how all of us felt about Dad. His strength of character somehow rubbed off on other people. He somehow made people feel stronger, made them feel emboldened, just by being there. And that’s not a bad legacy is it? So that’s all from me. I am now delighted to welcome Dad’s great friend and long-time colleague Phil Brown to tell us more Dad’s working life.

Brian Burgess – Obituary by his Grandchildren

For me, it was the rst me that I took the London Underground aer grandpa died was when grief rst hit me properly. For those of you who don’t know, when I was younger, Grandpa and I would spend a designated day on a ‘tube run’. This would involve me planning a necessarily confusing route around the underground network, changing trains a dozen or so times throughout the day, usually with a McDonald’s lunch sandwiched in the middle of the day. I’d carry a notepad around with said route printed o*, and we’d note what time we’d get on and off each train and made each connection.On the numerous occasions we’d get strange looks from commuters, grandpa had a stock reply ready for them:‘It’s a cheap day out!

Of course, we all have our own memories of him. Take how he’d always greet Eleanor and Alice. He’d smile, suffocate them with a hug, and the question ‘what are you?’. And they’d know that they weren’t getting away from the hug until they affirmed his answer of ‘gorgeous’.

Tom knew this feeling too. Only instead of ‘Gorgeous!’, Tom would be forced to answer, ‘What are you?’ with ‘Stupid.’The little things, too. The ice cream stand at the Ashley Centre in Epsom. His DEFEANING sneeze. His handing out of the sweets at half time at the football. His judgements of our ‘diving’ competitions from the footstool in the living room. Making paper chains for Christmas decorations, as we made them progressively longer and tested his dexterity in hanging them up.

The Christmas shows we used to put on for his benefit, capped off with Tom’s triumphant renditons of ‘Humph the Camel’ His entire body reverberating as he chuckled away at one of us, when we inevitably said or did something of grave stupidity, usually followed with the immortal words- ‘you silly sod’. He was always telling us how proud he was of us all. I hope he knows how proud we were to call him our grandpa.