Bierton Strict and Particular Baptists, 3rd Ed, by David Clarke

284 The policeman explained John was found dead in his home at Titchfield and he had no relatives to contact and my telephone number was the only contact they found in John’s house.

I had known John, as a student at College, for about two years and had visited him at his home. He had shared with me about his life and his struggles with Fareham Borough Council about his workshop that they stopped him building.

He was quite a well-liked character amongst the staff at Fareham College.

He loves his wife, who had died a few years previously, and so he returned to college doing mechanical engineering and electronics as a hobby. He was a mechanic and engineer having all kinds of good electronic and mechanical equipment.

Since John had no relatives we decided at college to make arrangements for his own departure. It was muted at first we hire a proper vicar to conduct the funeral. It was then I stepped in and said I would be pleased to conduct his funeral.

Several students and staff came to his funeral including Geoff Whitefield our Head of School and our Health and safety officer Marilyn Dufour.

Our technicians and staff were his coffin bearers whilst I spoke a few relevant words about John and his life. I related that Jesus at the tomb of Lazarus wept. It was a natural thing to feel and express grief. I said had John been a believer he would have gone to be with Christ but he had made no profession of faith, as far as any one knew. So I couldn’t say any more.

It was a sorrowful occasion but John had a respectful funeral and he left us with good memories of him self.

It was commented after the funeral that his coffin was so heavy they suggested John had taken with him his tool kit.

It was also said I made a better preacher than a lecturer; little did they know that that was my real calling.

It can be said that I cater for all my students’ needs although I have not yet been a mid wife. Nor have I conducted a marriage.

Steven Murray During this time in May 1999, I had a mother call to my home, asking if I would provide accommodation for her step-son Steven Murray, who was 20 years old. He looked very much like my own son Isaac. I was reluctant to take him in as he was without work at that time and the only means of paying any form of rent was to apply for Housing Benefit. He assured me that he would find work very quickly so I gave him a chance and took him in.

I also felt I could help him and shared with him my past life and my