This is a true story
My dad's father, William Cory, was born in Milborne Port, Somerset but led a varied and restless life. He was the ship's carpenter on board Fridtjof Nansen's boat (Fridtjof Nansen is a celebrated figure in Norway) and used to smuggle diamonds from Cape Town to Amsterdam for £100 a trip (about two years wages for a carpenter). Not to mention gold - I still have a bag of gold dust he gave my dad.
When he finally stopped wandering around the world he came back to his wife (who was about 30 years younger than him) and his 5 kids and never smiled again.
He used this money to build a row of houses in a place that everybody told him was a mistake (it was - they were sliding down the hill). A miserable old bastard who would disagree with people as a matter of principle, according to my father.
All of his children were given unique names as he was fed up with working with other people also called Bill
Namely: Fridtjof, Rudolf, Theodore, Yarma and Wanda
During the second world war Theodore was stationed in India and regularly corresponded with his fiance Dolly who lived in Milborne Port. Letters took maybe three months to arrive and were the only form of communication.
One day, Dolly got a letter from Theodore that ended "and now I am going to dress up in my suit and tie for my best girl". By that he just meant that he was going to dress up in his best clothes as a mark of respect and to remember her. But tragically, Dolly interpreted this to mean that he had found somebody else in India.
So, she married the local butcher.
When Theodore found out what had happened he was devastated but in those days divorce was out of the question so they went their separate ways.
Many years later, the butcher died and Dolly was on her own again. Then Rudolf's (yes, Rudolf not Theodore) wife died and he drove straight from the funeral in London to Dolly's house
"He refused to leave" said Dolly "so we got married and those were the ten happiest years of my life"
I know. Me too.
Bob Cory
Modified on 11/08/2023 at 12:45:40 by ℗ Bob Cory