My grandparents. Daniel Octopus (as he was known to both of us) was a rather aloof and austere man, although I have a memory of him when he was dying of cancer arguing with Mr. Nunn, the gardener over whether they sahould plant some new blackcurrant bushes for the next year. My father was Daniel Walter Gladwin. I never knew my mother due to the war. Elizabeth Gladwin was not a woman to cuddle us or anything soft but ensured the maid, Ruby, took us to Congregational Chapel every Sunday. We survived the bombing but the family broke up after Elizabeth died, and I have long,long since lost track of other family members.
Notify Administrator about this message?
|Home | Help | About Us | Site Index | Jobs | PRIVACY | Affiliate|
|© 2007 The Generations Network|