Margaret Pettard was born 1924 St Olave’s Parish Bermondsey, she was the only daughter of 5 children of Frank and Florence Pettard. The family at this time was living at 2 Star Place Bermondsey, which was also the address at birth given for all her family except her eldest brother William John Francis Pettard (Bill), with his address at birth being 248 Bermondsey Street.
248 Bermondsey Street would appear to be the address of grandparents John and Emma Leach, her mother
248 Bermondsey St, I must find time and space to include it some where within these pages. Just in passing grandma Leach was of Irish descent her maiden name being Moran.
At the age 6 Margaret’s mother Florence died giving birth to daughter Frances (Sally) who died shortly there after, at this time the family where still living 2 Star Place with William (Bill) aged 14, Johnny aged 9, Reggie age 6 and Dennis age 2. So it was that Margaret went to live with the Leach family, she recalls that she spent several weeks at a time living with her grandparents followed by several weeks living with Aunt Liz her mother’s sister. Margaret would be brought up with the Leach family until she was about 19. She returned to live with her father during the war until the home just off Great Dover Streets was badly damage by bomb blast, when she again was taken-in by Aunt Liz until her father Frank found a new abode for the family. After what can only be described has a somewhat disjointed and unsettled up bring Margaret finally makes her own way by moving to an apartment in Camberwell.
Margaret married Stanley Tomlin in 1949, always known as Stan and if not by name he was most certainly by nature and personality a Pettard. Granddad and the brothers loved to argue when they got to together, which often or not was a Sunday afternoon at granddads house south of the river to us then living in Clarkenwell. I took my uncle Stan to be a Pettard in those days such was his integration to the family, always in the thick of the arguments, often the perpetrator, and sometimes the initiator who would drop the bomb and then go put the kettle on. He had a wonderful sense of humour with numerous one liners, I just wished I could remember them all, one I always remembers was the time at granddads he turned up with odd socks on, having been challenged by someone, maybe Reggie to the fact, he coolly replied that they were not odd and he had an identical pair at home in his sock draw, which of course was true. I remember it being my uncle Stan that gave me my first Flying Angel, weird thing memories, they throw up the most obscure facts, for those not familiar with the term, a flying angel is when you are lifted up to sit on the shoulders of adult with your legs around their neck. I just don’t remember when I figured out that Stan was not a Pettard, when ever it was; it was after we left London for the green fields of Surrey . I also remember Stan as being one of first mobile members of the family not recalling too many cars at that time, with maybe the exception of Johnny Pettard, although come to think of it Reggie was mobile, so I guess it was us that lagged behind being motorized.
So it was that the family stayed in contact with the Tomlin driving down to us in Surrey many a Sunday. Stan always said that it was well worth the trip just for one of Bill’s Sunday dinners, and I imagine it must have brought back memories to Margaret of those days back when her brother cooked the family dinner after their mum died. When he was around nothing was left to waste and it was not by accident that there were no dogs in the family. Margaret always appears to have the patience of a saint and quietly enjoyed the family banter being quick to see all the humour, so it was with her handling of my mum Mary, who could try the patience of a saint anyway. I often look back on those Sundays and the ones at granddads and can still hear the arguments now, like whether Egypt is in Africa, Asia Minor or the Middle East, and how my dad would never have a black daughter, although that point was always hard to follow. Jesus Christ was a frequent topic, with granddad always insisting that whilst he did not believe in him, he most certainly existed. Granddad was famous for his rock-cakes which normally were baked on Sunday, don’t get me wrong I liked granddads cakes, but I do remember when all the brothers decided to see how high they could bounce one. Often or not Reggie and Dennis would entertain with a song and piano rendering of a Johnny Ray or Guy Mitchell number, in those days song sheets were very popular out-selling records which would have been expensive.
So with these events my recognition of London fades and in a short space of time the Pettards of Bermondsey are no longer of Bermondsey or of London , now scattered throughout the Home Counties and north in Yorkshire . I will always feel a part of that family that started so long ago with the Seal skinner and now so far away, I dream and wonder of the possibility of being transported back in time for a while aboard a Lighter amidst the dark and turning waters of the Thames.
| Family of Magaret (Pettard) Tomlin and Stanley Tomlin | ||||||
1949 | Marries | |||||
Margaret | Stanley | 1957 | ||||
Pettard | Tomlin | |||||
Kevin | ||||||
Tomlin | ||||||
1984 | Marries | |||||
Kevin | Penny | 1989 | 1991 | |||
Tomlin | Chatten | |||||
Rachel | Phillip | |||||
Tomlin | Tomlin | |||||
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