Frederick Charles Hammond

Fred and his stories were legendary, I grew up listening to mischief that my dad George and Fred created in their youth. Their nights out, drinking too much and falling off bicycles. It showed another, softer side to the men they had become, a side you never think about when you’re a kid.
The stories of his travels, all the places he’d visited, the food tasted, the sights seen. He gave me a greater understanding of the world we lived in, a bigger world that wasn’t confined to the boundaries of our youth. For that I will be forever grateful.
He really should have written a book on gardening, he could (and would), talk endlessly about his garden and allotments. What he was growing, the best (and Fred) way to do so -which was really the only way!
He was a walking road atlas, name anywhere and he would list the roads, routes and alternative ways of getting there.
So many memories, so full of life for so long, it’s hard to imagine those stories no longer being told.
Goodnight my darling, join your beloved Irene.
There will be an extra star shining bright for you. You will be missed.
Anita