Goldie and I walked along the canal and through the park to the railway station – and every inch of that walk was Terry. The last time he went out he went to Hebden bridge and told me afterwards that he had difficulty in walking the whole length of the park.
I found myself automatically driving from Hebden bridge past Hardcastle Crags, Pecket Well and Keepers Lodge (we used to go for meals there when it was a café) . Down through Oxenhope and Keighley almost to Silsden, then I remembered that I lived in Morecambe Bay.
Finally home - the car door opened and Goldie threw herself off over towards Grange Over Sands. She was home and could run for miles and find some really black slimy gulleys.
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Monday 2 March
Radio Lancashire with Brett and Radio Manchester, Liam O'Donaghue filmed us for BBC North West.
Overnight Hotel Liner Liverpool ****
Tuesday 3 March
Took Goldie for a walk .6.30am Tony rang from Radio Merseyside - interview on mobile phone.
After breakfast at Hotel walked to Radio Merseyside for photo.
Radio Stoke with Nick Robins and Radio Shropshire pre-recorded with
Overnight Travelodge Wolverhampton UGH!
Wednesday 4 March
Radio Birmingham, pre-recorded outside with Terry Goodwin and Radio Coventry with Mark.
Overnight Severn View Hotel Worcester *****
Thursday 5 March
Radio Hereford and Worcester with Tony Fisher and Radio Gloucester with Steve Kitching.
Overnight with Sue Ballard Reading
Friday 6 March
Radio Oxford by phone link with Malcolm Boyden and Radio Berkshire
Overnight Campanile Hotel Swindon ******
Saturday 7 March
Radio Wiltshire with Mark Jones and Radio Bristol and Radio Somerset by phone with
Overnight Heathercroft Taunton*****
Sunday 8 March
Travelling
Overnight Citadel Hotel Plymouth *
Monday 9 March
Radio Devon with Matt and Radio Plymouth with Ian and Radio Cornwall with Laurence Reed.
Overnight Citadel Hotel Plymouth *
Tuesday 10 March
Overnight Inn On the Cliffe Bournemouth ****
Wednesday 11 March
Radio Solent with Charley (female)
Overnight with Jeannie in Ashington
Thursday 12 March
Radio Southern Counties by phone link with Neil Pringle at 0945 and in studio with Joe at 11.30 and Radio Kent in studio with pat marsh at 2.45pm
Overnight with Louise in Gillingham
Friday 13 March
Radio Essex pre-recorded with Colleen and Radio Suffolk pre-recorded with Katie Arkell.
Overnight Hotel Lansdowne Norwich *
Saturday 14 March
Overnight Hotel Lansdowne Norwich *
Radio Norfolk pre-recorded with James Cassidy.
Sunday 15 March
Overnight Hotel du Vin Cambridge ****
Monday 16 March
Overnight Kings' Park Conference Centre *****
Radio Cambridge with Jeremy Sallis at 8.30am and Radio Three Counties
Tuesday 17 March
Radio Northampton in studio with Joe Pigniatello at 7.30am and Radio Leicester in studio at 11.30am with Tony and Radio Derby in studio at 2.30pm with Andy Potter and Radio Nottingham in studio with Alan Clifford at 6.10pm.
Overnight Comfort Hotel Nottingham*
Wednesday 18 March
Radio Lincoln pre-recorded outside with Rod Whiting.
Overnight Ivy Lodge Scotter*
Thursday 19 March
Radio Humberside in studio with Lara 11.45am.
Overnight with Sue in York
Friday 20 March
Radio York in studio with Adam and Katie and Radio Leeds by studio link with Andy and Julia.
Overnight Fellcroft B&B Corbridge ***
Saturday 21 March
Radio Cumbria in studio with Val Armstrong
Thursday, 9 April 2009
Thank you for visiting my fundraising page.
Pancreatic Cancer has claimed the lives of my mother, Marguerite, and my brother, Terry. It has the lowest survival rate of all cancers - with a survival rate of just 3%, exactly the same as it was half a century ago, whilst most other cancer survival rates have improved dramatically.
The two cases could not have been more different - my mother had an operation and lived five months and passed her 90th birthday, she was not obviously in pain and I was taking her out for a treat every day until two days before she died. This then gave my brother and I a false sense of what to expect. My brother said he could cope with dying but did not want to suffer pain: for the seven weeks he was with me he was sick 24x7 and we could not go out; for the last two weeks of his life he had no energy to get out of bed and the pain got worse.
This Odyssey is self funding out of my only income of £140 a week - unfortunately I was sacked from my job just days before Terry died - it doesn't matter if I end up bankrupt or living in a cardboard box as long as I can prevent one family suffering as ours has done
Day 20 First labour of Odyssey completed to the best of my ability - no amount of forward planning for weeks on end, emailing and telephoning 37 BBC local radio stations could possibly have prepared me for the reception received at each one - they were so diverse - from the warm welcoming through the indifferent to the get off our property.
Although every penny raised goes to Pancreatic Cancer UK, this is MY project; I take full responsibilty for any hiccups in the forward planning - if someone volunteered to help to try to save me some money I should have not taken the easy way out and passed my burden on to someone else - when my overdraft topped £900 I thought back to all those phone calls day in, day out - what difference would a few more have made except that I might have been spared the impenetrable barriers which got me so upset.
Neither my mother nor my brother nor I are 'celebrities' - but we suffered just as much . As Shylock said "do I not bleed".
My mother and brother were quiet types who never sought the limelight and there were times on this journey when I wondered if the barriers were put there to remind me that they would be the last people to wish to be talked about on air. Then I thought of the greater good - awareness of Pancreatic Cancer and the possibility of raising funding for research to find a test and screening.
What is written in the following diary of events is from my heart and soul, exactly as I felt and how I read the situation at the time. This would have been on my own website had BT fixed my broadband connection when I first asked them in December 2008. As soon as I get back on line I will use only my own website so any hiccups in my continuing Odyssey will be my responsibility and mine alone. Also I will be able to dispense with Facebook so it will be easier for people to access my diaries.
The 20 day journey has had highs and lows - times when my very soul cried out in pain at the injustice done to my brother and me - times when I was uplifted by the empathy of busy people. In cathedrals, lighting candles and reflecting, I could hear my brother's last words to me and would resolve to take things more calmly and not get hysterical when events conspired against my Odyssey - then the very next day I would find myself forgetting this resolve.
I chose to do this journey, my dog Goldie was dragged along and had no say in the matter so when she was abused twice - once verbally and once by having a door slammed on her face I felt so guilty and was almost hysterical. Particularly the latter incident because that day we had been on the buses for hours and faced hours longer to the next place.
One thing which surprised me on this journey blew my misconceptions out of the window. As I journeyed South West the people and Radio Stations became warmer and friendlier with little exception. As I journeyed North East on the final leg the Radio Stations and people became cooler and less friendly with little exception and by the time I reached what I regard as homeground in Yorkshire I was disillusioned ,upset and couldn't wait to get home. I am convinced that but for the intervention of the Morecambe Nurses, Elaine and Alison, I would not have had air time on radio because no amount of telephoning for weeks before I left could produce a positive result. In the event it was a warm welcome and a good interview which lifted my spirits for the 4 hour bus journey home.
My brother, Terry, was a fanatical walker - he loved the moors and mountains and escaped to them as often as he could during the forty years he worked as a twister in textiles inYorkshire. Made redundant 15 years ago, he survived bowel cancer and had more time to stride across the moors and fells - he never succumbed to the car, he was a walking bus timetable and could time a walk to arrive just in time to catch a bus in a place he had never been before.
Terry never lost his sense of humour. Two days before he died I went into his room to find all the lights on.
" Who put the lights on " I queried
"Me, you silly b***** " came from his inert form " Come here"
I went to him and leaned over as he fought for breath to speak.
" I am a tortoise" Terry breathed and closed his eyes.
I stood up, Terry was going to be reincarnated a s a tortoise - tomorrow I would see a tortoise and it would be Terry.
" I haven't finished..." Terry went on...
I leaned over ..." and you ... you are a Mad March Hare.." Terry went on .." slow down...think, study before you do owt..... then you get it right first time and it's quicker."
I sat there. He was so right.
" Terry you are right", I replied " I am like our dad always charging around like a mad thing doing half a dozen things at once. You' re like our mam, calm and gentle and quietly getting on with things"
That was the last painfree conversation we had and I am so grateful that he gave me that advice. All my life Terry has been my big strong brother who I could lean on for support and for the last seven weeks it had been so hard trying to be the strong one.
I visualise him now on one of our long walks over hill and dale, me struggling with scotsman's heads and his long languid strides always in front of my three steps to his one.
I can hear him
" at t' top of this hill you've cracked it"
but that meant there was a view of the next hill to "be cracked"
Finally he could be seen at the top of the last hill, looking out over his beloved moors, eating his sandwiches. I would flop down beside him and get out my food. At that point he would pack up, stand up and be ready for the next stretch of open moor.
His long easy strides soon brought him to a gate -
Terry was ever the 'gentleman' -
" Shut t' gate" would carry on the wind back to me.
Inevitably it was a heavy gate in a mire of mud. The gate secured, I would turn to see Terry's figure even further ahead.
Most walks ended with a bus to catch which were timed to Terry's pace. Civilisation would loom ahead down below and Terry would call back -
" Hurry up - t'bus is coming"
That meant running unless I wanted to arrive at the bus stop to see a grinning Terry sitting looking at me from his seat on the bus as it departed.
I never thought that one day Terry would leave me stranded and I could not see him in front of me at the top of that hill or the other side of the gate or on the bus.
Tuesday 24 February
14 of Terry's rambling friends met me at his house by St James Church in Silsden Yorkshire. We set off on the 8 mile walk to Keighley via Silsden/Ilkley Moor, all sporting daffodils on rucksacks or coats. I had Florrie in my rucksack and Terry in a hessian bag - it was heavy but Terry had carried me all my life now it was my turn to carry him.
We went down Skipton Road - past the Twisters Club, The Punch Bowl and the King's Arms, through t' Cat 'oil and into Bolton Road. We crossed into Silsden Park and across, looking down on St James Church, the canal, the trunk road, the railway and across Cobbydale, as Silsden is known to locals. We could see Terry's house and the houses which stand on the site John Knox's mill where he worked for 40 years as a twister - taking only 2 years out to do his National Service in the Royal Horse Artillery.
Two fields brought us to Brunthwaite and to murder mile - a steep narrow road which winds up to the moor, past the Golf Course. The Hessian bag was heavy and I was so grateful to his friends who all took it in turns to help him on his final journey to the moors he loved so much.
At last we were in sight of The Doubler Stones and Ilkey Moor where we could see across to the plantation and look down on the Aire Valley spread out below. We paused and took it all in. It was a mild dry winter's day I was thankful because Terry did not go out on the moors in the rain - the day was a perfect walking day and even the sun came out for a glimmer.
Further up the hill we saw the track on the left which led through Ghyll Grange Farm to Far Ghyll Grange. Goldie was getting excited - her nose caught the scent of freedom and she hurried forward straining at the lead - eager to get past the sheep she knows she is not allowed to socialise with.
At last we came to the fields which led down to the cleft running down from the moors with the trees below as it snaked down the valley. So we headed down, by now I was carrying the hessian bag for the final resting place. Through the gate to the little stone bridge and we all settled down for lunch within the shelter of the stones and rocks by the stream. I passed the 12 year old malt whiskey round which Terry ahd been saving for a special occasion and we drank a toast to Terry and to his late partner Florrie. Then there were anecdotes of what we remembered of the them. After lunch I went to a quiet place to say goodbye to Terry and Florrie then we all gathered to sing All Things Bright and Beautiful and Jerusalem. Maureen took the right moment to turn over the bridge singing " I love to go a wandering ...." and we all joined in as we set off down towards the woods which followed the stream to the road just below Robin Hood's Stone.
We came to a bog with a thin strip o wood to walk on and then we were negotiating Scotsman's heads and mire and mud. I heard a voice behind me say " This wouldn't be a Terry walk if we weren't threshing about"
Down through the woods and green slippy stones and a tricky path - some of the party ended up slithering and getting their hands as dirty as our feet and legs. Soon we came to the road and dropped down to Boothman's Farm and through to the canal bank. Along the bank to Utley Golf Course which led to Utley Cemetery and across Hard Ings to Keighley. We were talking so much we didn't hear "FORE" but saw a ball whistle past in front of us. Ian Dewhirst told us of the time he was leading a walk and all day he had been telling stories of the history of everything they passed when he heard Terry behind him remark "Doesn't he know some stuff" ( If you get the chance to read Ian's books or attend one of his fascinating talks you'll know what he meant)
In Keighley we sank into the warm cosy atmosphere of the Boltmaker's Arms, carpeted and with a lovely open fire. Terry used to enjoy a pint of Yorkshire Taylor's Ale here after a day rambling. The first round was on Terry and we raised the perfect pints to his memory. The talk was of walks and rambles and adventures over the years.
At 6pm I did as Terry did, left the pub and walked to the bus station to get the bus home to Silsden.
It was a day of mixed emotions: of sadness and of pleasure, of grief and fond memories, of a big strong older brother who had carried me through my life - from when I used to perch on the crossbar of his bike when a gang of lads would set off into the wilds of Silsden - "What have you brought her for?" still rings in my ears as they hawked me up muddy becksides and through trees. Well our mam had left me in his charge when she went to work in the mill at 7.30 that morning and he took that responsibility on - with good grace or not , I cannot remember.
In Terry's memory, three months from fit walker to death from Pancreatic Cancer, I plan to Go On The Buses to visit all local BBC Radio Stations in . I will not have timetables (just internet ones) but will get on the first bus out of Bolton-le-Sands on Monday 2 March 2009 after 9.30am with my free bus pass, my dog Goldie and my rucksack. I hope to do the anti clockwise trip in 3 weeks,starting with Radio Lancashire and finishing with Radio Cumbria .
The object is to raise awareness of and generate funding for Pancreatic Cancer . You can visit their website for further details of my journey. Travel may be free but as yet I have not organised accommodation. Please can anyone offer Goldie and me shelter for one night somewhere on our travels.
ON AIR ON THE BUSES 02 -21 March 2009
RadioSheffield 0830 Sat 28 February
We drove to Sheffield for the launch in Yorkshire as Terry was aYorkshireman through and through like the letters on a stick of rock.
On the way there we passed Lee Mount Church in Halifax where Terry used to go every other Thursday for a dinner. Everywhere is a reminder of him – the museum in Halifax which had an ancient gas cooker which was exactly like Terry's.
Goldie and I went on air with Gareth Evans at Radio Sheffield.
From Sheffield we went over The Strine, passing the reservoirs and places where Terry used to love rambling. We came out at Langsett and I had breakfast at the café where we always used to stop on our way to the Peak District from Silsden and looked up to the Youth Hostel we stayed at so many times. They kindly put a poster up and I met some lovely people- ramblers who showed an interest in what we are doing.
Over The Flouch , bypassing Holmfirth and Huddersfield and Halifax and through Sowerby Bridge where Terry liked to follow the Straw Procession to HebdenBridge– Terry’s favourite walking area where he went most days.
Thank you to Liz in the Information Centre who volunteered to copy some posters and distribute them around Terry places – Lumbutts where he enjoyed afternoon and harvest teas, the chapels and churches where he would have a morning coffee before a day’s hike. Liz said she would try to get one to The Wesley Chapel at Baildon where Terry liked to go for his dinner on his Ilkley Moor walks.
Terry was a mine of information on regular Coffee Mornings and churches that did ‘proper dinners’. He was a regular at so many of them. Also he knew and was known by many people on the Hebden Bridge buses.
Pancreatic Cancer has claimed the lives of my mother, Marguerite, and my brother, Terry. It has the lowest survival rate of all cancers - with a survival rate of just 3%, exactly the same as it was half a century ago, whilst most other cancer survival rates have improved dramatically.
The two cases could not have been more different - my mother had an operation and lived five months and passed her 90th birthday, she was not obviously in pain and I was taking her out for a treat every day until two days before she died. This then gave my brother and I a false sense of what to expect. My brother said he could cope with dying but did not want to suffer pain: for the seven weeks he was with me he was sick 24x7 and we could not go out; for the last two weeks of his life he had no energy to get out of bed and the pain got worse.
This Odyssey is self funding out of my only income of £140 a week - unfortunately I was sacked from my job just days before Terry died - it doesn't matter if I end up bankrupt or living in a cardboard box as long as I can prevent one family suffering as ours has done
Day 20 First labour of Odyssey completed to the best of my ability - no amount of forward planning for weeks on end, emailing and telephoning 37 BBC local radio stations could possibly have prepared me for the reception received at each one - they were so diverse - from the warm welcoming through the indifferent to the get off our property.
Although every penny raised goes to Pancreatic Cancer UK, this is MY project; I take full responsibilty for any hiccups in the forward planning - if someone volunteered to help to try to save me some money I should have not taken the easy way out and passed my burden on to someone else - when my overdraft topped £900 I thought back to all those phone calls day in, day out - what difference would a few more have made except that I might have been spared the impenetrable barriers which got me so upset.
Neither my mother nor my brother nor I are 'celebrities' - but we suffered just as much . As Shylock said "do I not bleed".
My mother and brother were quiet types who never sought the limelight and there were times on this journey when I wondered if the barriers were put there to remind me that they would be the last people to wish to be talked about on air. Then I thought of the greater good - awareness of Pancreatic Cancer and the possibility of raising funding for research to find a test and screening.
What is written in the following diary of events is from my heart and soul, exactly as I felt and how I read the situation at the time. This would have been on my own website had BT fixed my broadband connection when I first asked them in December 2008. As soon as I get back on line I will use only my own website so any hiccups in my continuing Odyssey will be my responsibility and mine alone. Also I will be able to dispense with Facebook so it will be easier for people to access my diaries.
The 20 day journey has had highs and lows - times when my very soul cried out in pain at the injustice done to my brother and me - times when I was uplifted by the empathy of busy people. In cathedrals, lighting candles and reflecting, I could hear my brother's last words to me and would resolve to take things more calmly and not get hysterical when events conspired against my Odyssey - then the very next day I would find myself forgetting this resolve.
I chose to do this journey, my dog Goldie was dragged along and had no say in the matter so when she was abused twice - once verbally and once by having a door slammed on her face I felt so guilty and was almost hysterical. Particularly the latter incident because that day we had been on the buses for hours and faced hours longer to the next place.
One thing which surprised me on this journey blew my misconceptions out of the window. As I journeyed South West the people and Radio Stations became warmer and friendlier with little exception. As I journeyed North East on the final leg the Radio Stations and people became cooler and less friendly with little exception and by the time I reached what I regard as homeground in Yorkshire I was disillusioned ,upset and couldn't wait to get home. I am convinced that but for the intervention of the Morecambe Nurses, Elaine and Alison, I would not have had air time on radio because no amount of telephoning for weeks before I left could produce a positive result. In the event it was a warm welcome and a good interview which lifted my spirits for the 4 hour bus journey home.
My brother, Terry, was a fanatical walker - he loved the moors and mountains and escaped to them as often as he could during the forty years he worked as a twister in textiles inYorkshire. Made redundant 15 years ago, he survived bowel cancer and had more time to stride across the moors and fells - he never succumbed to the car, he was a walking bus timetable and could time a walk to arrive just in time to catch a bus in a place he had never been before.
Terry never lost his sense of humour. Two days before he died I went into his room to find all the lights on.
" Who put the lights on " I queried
"Me, you silly b***** " came from his inert form " Come here"
I went to him and leaned over as he fought for breath to speak.
" I am a tortoise" Terry breathed and closed his eyes.
I stood up, Terry was going to be reincarnated a s a tortoise - tomorrow I would see a tortoise and it would be Terry.
" I haven't finished..." Terry went on...
I leaned over ..." and you ... you are a Mad March Hare.." Terry went on .." slow down...think, study before you do owt..... then you get it right first time and it's quicker."
I sat there. He was so right.
" Terry you are right", I replied " I am like our dad always charging around like a mad thing doing half a dozen things at once. You' re like our mam, calm and gentle and quietly getting on with things"
That was the last painfree conversation we had and I am so grateful that he gave me that advice. All my life Terry has been my big strong brother who I could lean on for support and for the last seven weeks it had been so hard trying to be the strong one.
I visualise him now on one of our long walks over hill and dale, me struggling with scotsman's heads and his long languid strides always in front of my three steps to his one.
I can hear him
" at t' top of this hill you've cracked it"
but that meant there was a view of the next hill to "be cracked"
Finally he could be seen at the top of the last hill, looking out over his beloved moors, eating his sandwiches. I would flop down beside him and get out my food. At that point he would pack up, stand up and be ready for the next stretch of open moor.
His long easy strides soon brought him to a gate -
Terry was ever the 'gentleman' -
" Shut t' gate" would carry on the wind back to me.
Inevitably it was a heavy gate in a mire of mud. The gate secured, I would turn to see Terry's figure even further ahead.
Most walks ended with a bus to catch which were timed to Terry's pace. Civilisation would loom ahead down below and Terry would call back -
" Hurry up - t'bus is coming"
That meant running unless I wanted to arrive at the bus stop to see a grinning Terry sitting looking at me from his seat on the bus as it departed.
I never thought that one day Terry would leave me stranded and I could not see him in front of me at the top of that hill or the other side of the gate or on the bus.
Tuesday 24 February
14 of Terry's rambling friends met me at his house by St James Church in Silsden Yorkshire. We set off on the 8 mile walk to Keighley via Silsden/Ilkley Moor, all sporting daffodils on rucksacks or coats. I had Florrie in my rucksack and Terry in a hessian bag - it was heavy but Terry had carried me all my life now it was my turn to carry him.
We went down Skipton Road - past the Twisters Club, The Punch Bowl and the King's Arms, through t' Cat 'oil and into Bolton Road. We crossed into Silsden Park and across, looking down on St James Church, the canal, the trunk road, the railway and across Cobbydale, as Silsden is known to locals. We could see Terry's house and the houses which stand on the site John Knox's mill where he worked for 40 years as a twister - taking only 2 years out to do his National Service in the Royal Horse Artillery.
Two fields brought us to Brunthwaite and to murder mile - a steep narrow road which winds up to the moor, past the Golf Course. The Hessian bag was heavy and I was so grateful to his friends who all took it in turns to help him on his final journey to the moors he loved so much.
At last we were in sight of The Doubler Stones and Ilkey Moor where we could see across to the plantation and look down on the Aire Valley spread out below. We paused and took it all in. It was a mild dry winter's day I was thankful because Terry did not go out on the moors in the rain - the day was a perfect walking day and even the sun came out for a glimmer.
Further up the hill we saw the track on the left which led through Ghyll Grange Farm to Far Ghyll Grange. Goldie was getting excited - her nose caught the scent of freedom and she hurried forward straining at the lead - eager to get past the sheep she knows she is not allowed to socialise with.
At last we came to the fields which led down to the cleft running down from the moors with the trees below as it snaked down the valley. So we headed down, by now I was carrying the hessian bag for the final resting place. Through the gate to the little stone bridge and we all settled down for lunch within the shelter of the stones and rocks by the stream. I passed the 12 year old malt whiskey round which Terry ahd been saving for a special occasion and we drank a toast to Terry and to his late partner Florrie. Then there were anecdotes of what we remembered of the them. After lunch I went to a quiet place to say goodbye to Terry and Florrie then we all gathered to sing All Things Bright and Beautiful and Jerusalem. Maureen took the right moment to turn over the bridge singing " I love to go a wandering ...." and we all joined in as we set off down towards the woods which followed the stream to the road just below Robin Hood's Stone.
We came to a bog with a thin strip o wood to walk on and then we were negotiating Scotsman's heads and mire and mud. I heard a voice behind me say " This wouldn't be a Terry walk if we weren't threshing about"
Down through the woods and green slippy stones and a tricky path - some of the party ended up slithering and getting their hands as dirty as our feet and legs. Soon we came to the road and dropped down to Boothman's Farm and through to the canal bank. Along the bank to Utley Golf Course which led to Utley Cemetery and across Hard Ings to Keighley. We were talking so much we didn't hear "FORE" but saw a ball whistle past in front of us. Ian Dewhirst told us of the time he was leading a walk and all day he had been telling stories of the history of everything they passed when he heard Terry behind him remark "Doesn't he know some stuff" ( If you get the chance to read Ian's books or attend one of his fascinating talks you'll know what he meant)
In Keighley we sank into the warm cosy atmosphere of the Boltmaker's Arms, carpeted and with a lovely open fire. Terry used to enjoy a pint of Yorkshire Taylor's Ale here after a day rambling. The first round was on Terry and we raised the perfect pints to his memory. The talk was of walks and rambles and adventures over the years.
At 6pm I did as Terry did, left the pub and walked to the bus station to get the bus home to Silsden.
It was a day of mixed emotions: of sadness and of pleasure, of grief and fond memories, of a big strong older brother who had carried me through my life - from when I used to perch on the crossbar of his bike when a gang of lads would set off into the wilds of Silsden - "What have you brought her for?" still rings in my ears as they hawked me up muddy becksides and through trees. Well our mam had left me in his charge when she went to work in the mill at 7.30 that morning and he took that responsibility on - with good grace or not , I cannot remember.
In Terry's memory, three months from fit walker to death from Pancreatic Cancer, I plan to Go On The Buses to visit all local BBC Radio Stations in . I will not have timetables (just internet ones) but will get on the first bus out of Bolton-le-Sands on Monday 2 March 2009 after 9.30am with my free bus pass, my dog Goldie and my rucksack. I hope to do the anti clockwise trip in 3 weeks,starting with Radio Lancashire and finishing with Radio Cumbria .
The object is to raise awareness of and generate funding for Pancreatic Cancer . You can visit their website for further details of my journey. Travel may be free but as yet I have not organised accommodation. Please can anyone offer Goldie and me shelter for one night somewhere on our travels.
ON AIR ON THE BUSES 02 -21 March 2009
RadioSheffield 0830 Sat 28 February
We drove to Sheffield for the launch in Yorkshire as Terry was aYorkshireman through and through like the letters on a stick of rock.
On the way there we passed Lee Mount Church in Halifax where Terry used to go every other Thursday for a dinner. Everywhere is a reminder of him – the museum in Halifax which had an ancient gas cooker which was exactly like Terry's.
Goldie and I went on air with Gareth Evans at Radio Sheffield.
From Sheffield we went over The Strine, passing the reservoirs and places where Terry used to love rambling. We came out at Langsett and I had breakfast at the café where we always used to stop on our way to the Peak District from Silsden and looked up to the Youth Hostel we stayed at so many times. They kindly put a poster up and I met some lovely people- ramblers who showed an interest in what we are doing.
Over The Flouch , bypassing Holmfirth and Huddersfield and Halifax and through Sowerby Bridge where Terry liked to follow the Straw Procession to HebdenBridge– Terry’s favourite walking area where he went most days.
Thank you to Liz in the Information Centre who volunteered to copy some posters and distribute them around Terry places – Lumbutts where he enjoyed afternoon and harvest teas, the chapels and churches where he would have a morning coffee before a day’s hike. Liz said she would try to get one to The Wesley Chapel at Baildon where Terry liked to go for his dinner on his Ilkley Moor walks.
Terry was a mine of information on regular Coffee Mornings and churches that did ‘proper dinners’. He was a regular at so many of them. Also he knew and was known by many people on the Hebden Bridge buses.
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