|
Herman Frederick Eckstein F/Mc Married: -1920 Married Married Married Married Married Married Mary (Molly) Aurelia Creed F/Mc | |||||||||||
| Eleanor Joanne (Joanie) Eckstein [CFT #8722] Born: 1927 Died: 2016 |
| ||||||||||
| b Nairobi, Kenya d Thorp House, Griston, Norfolk James' tribute to his mother (slightly abridged). EJD My Mother was born in 1927 in Nairobi….a birth location that I was to share 27 years later. She was born into a very loving and somewhat fertile family, a tradition that is still very much alive and kicking going by the relations who are here today. I hope that you will bear with me as to understand my Mother one does need to appreciate the historical context of her life. Above all she was essentially an African…that great continent shaped her life and her outlook. It gave her extraordinary wisdom and it gave her a wonderful, warm and loving heart. She was entirely devoid of snobbery and could and did treat everyone she met in exactly the same way regardless of who they were and what they believed in. Christened Eleanor Joanne she soon ditched the first name and was throughout her life known as Joanie. She was the second youngest of five children. The two eldest, both very remarkable people shared the same mother so were her half siblings. Her father was the younger son of Herman Eckstein who is widely considered to be the founding father of Johannesburg and at one point controlled half the Rand…and the best half at that. Herman died at the tender age of 43 at the height of his powers. He left three children, two boys and a daughter. The eldest son Ludvig went to Kenya on safari after leaving Eton in 1912, fell in love with the place and started buying up tracts of land. When the First World War broke out he joined up to fight the Germans in what was then called German East Africa. The German forces led by the redoubtable General von Lettow Vorbeck were never defeated. It was a bloody campaign and Ludvig was killed in 1917 ironically fighting his own half countrymen. He left his land and fortune to his brother my Grandfather who was also called Herman. In 1919, Herman too came to Kenya to inspect his brother’s properties. Soon after, in South Africa he met a young concert pianist, Molly with two young children in tow and who had all been deserted by their father….a story that has to be whispered in our family. Well as we know God works in mysterious ways. Herman was completely smitten by Molly and most unusually for the times they were soon married and travelled north in 1923 to start a pioneering new life in what I can only describe as the most wonderful country you could ever imagine. Finally, after many adventures, they settled in a wild and beautiful valley in the Kenya Highlands called Subukia. In those days it was covered in forest and the first farmhouse was made out of Cedar. Just as well for soon after there was a massive earthquake which lasted on and off all night…the wild animals of the surrounding forest coming out onto the lawn for safety just like Noah’s Ark. This then was where my mother grew up. In her day it was a well known farm and was called Maryland. It was named after my Mother’s older full sister Mary. So, in all five children grew up at Maryland. Geoff and Betty, the two older half siblings and then in order Mary, Joanie and finally Anthony. My Mother was the very last of this dynasty so her passing really is the end of an era. Like my mother I am not an envious person…but I have to say that the life Mum lived in Kenya in the 1930’s and 40’s sounds like pure heaven on earth. It was a tough life but rewarding too and absolutely stuffed with drama and incident. As a result I have to say that she felt those who complain today about trivial things are really rather WET! She loved riding but did suffer a frightful fall in her teens that resulted in a broken arm so bad that she lay in traction for six long months. My mother was very lucky to make the grand old age of 89. She was determined to match her sisters in this regard so I hope we can all be kind and agree that she was in her 90th year. I say lucky because I am aware of three incidents in her life when life hung by a thread. The first happened in 1939. She was kicked in the shin by a horse and the wound went septic. Mum became dangerously ill. An appeal was sent out over the local radio for M&B which was in very short supply. The Governor Sir Robert Brooke-Popham just happened to have a supply and Mum’s life was saved. Later, whilst riding with her great friend Petal Erskine a crazed man leapt out of the coffee, pulled Mum off her horse and started to throttle her. She just managed a scream which was fortunately just heard by Francis Erskine who galloped back and just saved her from a most unfortunate and early demise. Later still, when I was six, we were travelling down to the coast with the same Petal at the wheel on the old Mombasa dirt road…..a few here will remember that road. It was not a road to have a front wheel blow-out on but we unfortunately did. It ended in a bad smash, the car rolling three times and Mum was thrown out after the first impact. When I eventually found her in the long dry grass I was sure she was dead…she stirred to my voice…my life reassembled itself. Poor Mum ..she had broken her back…but never complained. In fact, I have to say that Mum was not someone to complain about pain or discomfort. She was always saying to me…well…what cannot be cured must be endured. Just before her 89th birthday, she had a bad fall. I could see she was in great pain. Well, you don’t think that a cracked pelvis was going to stand in the way of attending her birthday party…not a bit of it. Somehow, we got her to the Valentines and once she had her first glass of Shampoo she really was quite her old self. During the war, Mum joined the Red Cross…a connection that was to last all her life. After the war ended, Mum and Petal decided to become actresses. They enrolled at the Webber Douglas Acting School in London. My father Mike fresh from Army service in Somalia was travelling on the underground and overheard some people making rude remarks about their fellow passengers in Swahili. Dad responded in the same language and two evenings later he was introduced to Mum and Petal who knew these strangers. It was a whirlwind romance and two weeks later they were engaged…they were married in London in 1947. Mum was still just 19. The reception was held at the Hyde Park Hotel. Many years later whilst staying with Ralph Cobbold in Suffolk …Ralph was a Great Uncle by Marriage….we were all invited to lunch by one of Ralph’s great friends. When we alighted our host and my mother suddenly doubled up in a fit of giggles. Out tumbled the story about my mother negotiating with the manager of the Hyde Park over the cost of the reception. £2 Guineas was the manager’s opening gambit…finally after some very hard bargaining Mum had knocked him down to 19 and six. Having been brought up in East Africa the art of striking a bargain was second nature to her. Now when I tell you that the manager of a major London hotel is somewhat akin to the Almighty it takes some pluck to take on such a man. When the same man who was in fact our laughing host just happens to be the legendary Colonel Brian Franks…the most important SAS commander after David Sterling then I think you will have some idea of my Mother’s strength of character. In 1954, I was born. It was a difficult birth and Mum was told that any further children could risk her life. We initially lived in a block of flats on the Ngong Road in the suburbs of Nairobi. The flats all belonged to my Grandmother who also lived in one of them. Herman had promised Dad the management of one of his farms but Dad was no farmer and he ended up working for the Royal Insurance Company in Nairobi. Money was tight and once I was old enough to fend for myself Mum got a job at Cooper Motors, the VW Agents for East Africa. Dad bought a plot of building land from Sir Derek Erskine…..Petal’s father…and built out family home. It was in the middle of a coffee plantation at the far end of Riverside Drive. Quite soon houses were built on each side of ours. In one a young couple moved in….they quickly became friends and have remained so to this very day. George and Carol Pilkington from just up the road from here at Breckles. The reason my parents came to live in Norfolk is entirely due to the Pilks. Their treasured friendship shaped my parents lives in England…I will always be thankful that they became our Nairobi neighbours…God does indeed work in mysterious ways. So our lives in Kenya proceeded with much fun and incident. I was packed off to boarding school so my relationship with my parents came in bursts…the school holidays. It was Mum who taught me to fish. It was Mum who took me to the coast for those utterly sublime holidays beside the Indian Ocean at Watamu. She was just what you wanted in a Mother. She was firm, she had high standards, she was reliable….she had a wonderful sense of the ridiculous. Above all else she allowed me to be me and to be free. In 1978, it became clear to us that life In Kenya was changing. It was time to leave. I went first, Mum and Dad followed in 1980. They settled in Longmeadow, just up the road. Dad retired early so it was a peaceful life. They had a cat. I came to stay quite often. They had many local friends. Mum was particularly good at Bridge. Her bridge pals were very dear to her. She joined Meals on Wheels and was a fund raiser for the Red Cross. After Dad died, I know that the community rallied around…My Mum was loved by many and she loved back. She was kind, she was loyal and she was extremely modest. Then, in her early 80’s she became unwell. In fact when I think about it once more her life very nearly ended. After an operation she described as being like a filleted herring she recovered. I have to say that she was so utterly nonchalant about the whole episode that I was only dimly aware that she had been so ill. Life at Longmeadow continued. The house remained free of any kind of modern gadget. The TV was a yard thick, for years she used an old Record Player. She never ever had a computer and in her latter years it took much patience to get her to use a mobile phone. In fact I think her grasp of modernity came to a shuddering halt in around 1970. She gamely soldiered on. She took particular pride in the academic achievements of her two Grand children Ralph and Serena…she loved them both from the bottom of her heart. On one of my visits she asked me to promise to keep her in her own home for as long as possible. I kept my promise. Finally, after another fall which frightened her she finally made the decision herself to go and live in Thorp House. What a great success the move to Thorp House has been. By now she was registered blind and lived in her little room with the curtains drawn. The location half way between Caston and Watton was most fortunate. Almost every day her friends would drop in to see her. She loved to chat about the old days and to recite poetry..her memory was uncanny and if you were really lucky out would pop a really rather risqué limerick. What a grand bunch you all are…..you loved my Mum..I know that for sure…and she loved you all back. I can only end by quoting one of her favourite sayings....and she so loved her poetry as some of you know…… From quiet homes and first beginning, out to the undiscovered ends, there's nothing worth the wear of winning, but laughter and the love of friends. God bless my beloved Mother and God bless all of you. |
1: 1954 James Christopher Dempseyc W/C | ||||||||||
| 1 Child | |||||||||||
To notify corrections or updates to this page, please contact the Webmaster
or return to the Index2 Index1
Thanks