Meeting Miss Offord

The Diaries of Russell James Sparrow 1908 to 1991

I didn’t ride solo for long because one night after choir practice I asked a certain Miss Dorothy Offord if I could take her for a walk and that’s how it all started.

We had some good times and some narrow squeaks, on bikes of varying sizes finishing up with a 3.5 h.p. model which Mum tried to ride but it was so heavy that when she stopped the thing simply fell over. We attended dances all over the county, mostly on cold winter nights without turning a hair. Our first long journey together was to Bethnal Green, London to see Rufus, Ethel and family for the day and the rain bucketed down all the way, we arrived like 2 drowned rats. The rain persisted and rather than face the homeward journey under those conditions we stayed the night with them and saw our first ‘talkie’ at a cinema in Hackney. At that time Witham was notorious as a speed trap and the really only safe way was to push your bike through the town.

I fancied myself as a motorcyclist and remember that at the time we were building some bungalows at Finborough and for a dare I rode to Needham with a pillion passenger without touching the handlebars. Must say there wasn’t as much on the roads as there is today. I also made nearly a clean sweep of the prizes at a motorcycle gymkhana held in connection with the flower show. I became a keen member of the B.B. and attended the annual battalion camps etc., had a short spell as a Junior Beadle in the Foresters and with Mum joined Stow Operatic and Dramatic society and performed in Highwayman Love. Subsequently, after we married, we progressed to concerts and pantomimes with Mrs Russell Quinton & Co. and I did a few solo items for various functions – what talent! Sometimes I played football for the B.B. and if it was away I would go on my motor bike and take another player with me.

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The Diaries of Russell James Sparrow 1908 to 1991

After returning from one of these trips I dropped my passenger, picked up Mum and we took the bike back to its home, which was a shed at the workshop off the High Street, ‘the Fort’. I had received a nasty kick near a very vulnerable spot and after putting the bike away and in the gloom of the shed I had dropped my slacks to show Mum the spot when in walked Dad! Were our faces red?! I bet his eyes twinkled and he had a little chuckle to himself. As soon as Dad owned a car I learned to drive it and on occasions was allowed the use of it. On one such occasion I took Mum, Grandad Offord, Ethel and Rufus to visit relatives in Cotton and Wyverstone. After tea with U. Bob and A. Nell my passengers got into the car, a bull-nosed Morris. I cranked her up and nothing happened and after considerable winding by myself and Rufus and no sign of life from the engine I asked Rufus to give me a push, and this he did to the point of exhaustion and still no response. So after a brief explanation to Ru about letting out the clutch when I shouted we reversed positions and sure as faith the darn thing started and there was Ru with no idea about driving doing his best to keep on the road while I was breaking all sprint records to catch up to the car, which I eventually did, and hopped over the side, shoved it out of gear and jammed on the brakes. Fortunately it was a straight bit of road.

Dad’s early cars included a Rhode, an enormous sports Lagonda with an exhaust as big as a drain pipe and which, for that time, could really go, and a Blyno with a prehistoric choke system controlled by a long length of wire which the passenger had to hang on to while the driver did the winding.

At the time Mum celebrated her 21st birthday Ivor Theobold, Jack Bloom and I had pitched a tent in the garden of the Manse which at the time was empty (between Rev. Rose and Rev. White) and we were sleeping out. There were no riotous celebrations but my beloved purchased a bottle of port wine and we saw this off between us, 90% coming to me. After a rather unsteady journey back to the

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