Marks and Gran Do Barry.
I'm not entirely sure if this photo's of my dad on holiday in Butlins in 1963 or me in Dreamboats and Petticoats.
Either way, it looks like a great place to be, and I love the undercurrent of causing trouble to it. I dread to think of what went on on that trip as the seven of them look let off the leash, so it's probably best that pictures can't speak. Let's just say they played a few rounds of Bingo then went home for an early night.
Until recently, I'm not sure I'd seen any pictures of my dad as a youngster before my parents' wedding in 1968 when he was twenty-two, so it's been nice to stumble across them as I sort through things at his house. Seeing them is also marked by the thought that the building I'm in is where he came home to as it was where he grew up, which makes it more pleasant. It's nice to see so much of his personality intact in these pictures too, as it's like a welcome reminder of an old friend, which he is.
As is inevitable in these situations, I wish I'd asked him more about those times or seen the photographs before he died as it would have been nice to fill in the gaps from his perspective, but as I can't, I'll let the photographs speak for themselves. I just wish I could step into another dimension and join them; too much science-fiction from me.
Barry: far left, second from left and second from left. |