Life Redressing Itself

I’m in the UK on a tour of the west country universities: Bath and Bristol with the boy and Mr. Jules.  In spite of his determination to fulfil his army obligations – see two blog postings down – Ollie has agreed to at least check out his options first.  We are not to mention the C word as although put forward by the school, he doesn’t want to attend such a prestigious establishment.

So I tell him the story of his Great Grandfather, William (Bill) Moore.

My maternal Grandfather, William, was one of two boys who won a scholarship to the local Grammar School in his home town of Mountain Ash, Wales.  His parents were pig farmers and unable to pay for the pencils and paper and so poor Bill was sent down the mines instead.  The other boy went on to become a top judge and then a QC (Queen’s Counsel).  They both survived the war and kept in touch.  Once a year Granddad would polish his shoes and put a comb through his thinning chestnut hair and make his bandy-legged way up to London to have dinner with his school friend in his gentleman’s club.  I can only imagine that the journey home was long and arduous as he stared out of the window trying to distract himself from a mind full of what if? thoughts.

Whatever establishment Ollie chooses is irrelevant.  The very fact that he is even considered eligible to apply to such a prestigious university is enough, enough to give me the immense satisfaction that life has a way of redressing past errors.

William Moore 1906 – 1987.