My
Gramps was one of the most formative figures in my life and I hero worshipped him as a kid. He was this larger than life person who openly showed this love and wherever he went, there was laughter. I wanted to be just like him when I grew up. Because my Gramps was so special to me, I am very interested to know more about his parents who helped make him into the person he became. Here are some photos and some memories.
Mum's Memories of Nana Win and Poppa George
My paternal grandparents used to come and spend every Christmas with us and we would travel up to London to meet them and then we would all go to a pantomime or show. We would walk down Oxford Street on the way to the theatre, looking at the brightly decorated shops. One evening I grabbed grandpa’s hand to show him something special only to find it was not grandpa’s hand but a stranger’s. I can still remember feeling so totally mortified! It’s strange how something so unimportant can affect one for so long!
Nana Win and Poppa George lived in Rustington close to the beach. The beach was covered in pebbles and when we went down to swim, we had to wear rubber slippers into the water to protect our feet. Poppa George had been a policeman but in his retirement he spent all his time in his garden where he grew the most amazing vegetables.
When we eventually had our first car, fondly known as Puffing Bertha because of the difficulty she had going up hills, we used to go down to see Nana and Poppa about once a month. I was horribly car sick so was dosed up with something called avomine. Avomine could only be bought on prescription if it was to be used by a human but if Mum told the pharmacist it was for the dog, she could get it without bothering to go to the doctor first. It made me incredibly sleepy and I would sleep the whole way to Rustington (about 90 minutes), yawn my way through the day, and then sleep all the way home again!
When we were with Nana and Poppa we would always go and help pick fresh vegetables for lunch and then sit and shuck the peas (eating more than we put in the bowl). I can also remember the tomatoes growing in the glass green house had so much flavour and were so sweet. Poppa loved yellow flowers because they reminded him of sunshine so the garden was full of marigolds etc. There was a putting hole in the centre of the lawn and we would spend hours trying to get a hole in one. Dad used to complain about Poppa George and get irritated with certain things he did so it highly amused me as Dad himself got older, that he became more and more like his own father. Probably something that happens to most of us!
Some Background Information from Trish
Poppa George Frederick Sorrell was a policeman in Oxford and then London. During the war he went back to the police in Tolworth. He’d retired from the police in his 40s and worked for the AA until the war. He married Win in 1916.
George’s parents were Frederick Sorrell and Annie Emma Rolls. Frederick was superintendent and deputy chief constable of Oxfordshire. Dad did not see much of his grandfather but saw more of his grandmother who, like Nana Win, was very round.
Win’s parents ran a grocer’s shop in Colchester. Gramps (Tony) used to help in the shop and sold 5 Woodbine cigarettes for 1/2penny. Her father was a lovely man and her mother was small and birdlike. He died first and she lived with Win and George at Raeburn Ave until the war when she went to live with a spinster niece in Colchester. They had 3 kids, Nancy, Win and Frank.
Trish's memories
I remember they always came for Xmas, as well as Auntie Alice, which meant we were very squished in the small house. I remember sharing Mum’s single bed with her. One year she was very distressed because a freak snowstorm just after Xmas meant all “the oldies” had to stay an extra day or two because public transport shut down.
On Xmas Eve Nana and Poppa helped us write our list of wishes for Father Christmas (never known as Santa in our day) which we then put on the fire so the ashes would be carried up the chimney ready for his arrival. It was a Xmas day tradition that we had lunch in the middle of the day so Mum was up early putting the turkey in the oven.
Jill and I couldn’t hurry the oldies enough till they were all ready to open presents. Then Poppa always took us for a walk round the neighbourhood (I’m sure to get us out of Mum’s way as she cooked) and we would rate all the gardens we passed on a score of 1-10! After plenty of wine and port with the meal and listening to the Queen’s annual address all the adults would then fall asleep in the pm which Jill and I found very boring!
It was Nana and Poppa who persuaded Mum and Dad to let us have a dog for Xmas. However we were convinced our gift was a grocery store set and we’d even decided who was to be shopkeeper/purchaser first. We were told that because it was in such a big box we would get it Xmas eve. Instead Dad walked in the room with Chippy in his coat pocket she was so tiny. That Xmas we thought she was asleep behind Nan’s feet but really she was chewing a hole in the back of her brand new slippers!
I adored my grandparents and they certainly adored us back. Dad says he was almost embarrassingly adored by Poppa as his only son, so he was relieved when that devotion was transferred to us after our birth. Poppa was rarely without his beloved pipe. I remember him carrying us piggyback to and from the beach.
They had a wooden beach hut there where we could change and store lawn chairs, toys etc. I remember crabbing in the rock pools at low tide. The waves could get quite rough at high tide and then there was no sand on the beach but we could play cricket on the grassy area behind the beach. I don’t remember either grandparent actually coming in the water with us. Nana was a large woman and very soft to cuddle up to as we snuggled under home knit woolly blankets on the couch to watch TV. She taught me to knit and I can still remember the mantra of needle through, wool over, pull the needle back and push the wool off!
They never drove or owned a car so we would walk to the beach but Poppa insisted on lunch being the main meal of the day, at exactly 1pm so we had to come back to the house then and return to the beach afterwards. Nana apparently never challenged him. Dad remembers dessert was always stewed apple and custard! She could be brusque at times and I remember the resentment I felt at being given little sympathy after being stung by a wasp.
They both played bridge, although Nana confessed to me that she thought she was the better player so she didn’t always want to partner George! She continued to play until her death and considered that walking to and from the club and the game itself kept her body and brain active. However she was not a particularly physical woman and I don’t remember her taking an active role in the garden. Poppa lived in his garden. It was a double sized lot so lots of room for his veggies. We helped dig up potatoes, squish butterfly eggs on his cabbages, and loved the tiny tomatoes in his greenhouse. He had a shed full of tobacco boxes he used to store nails, odd pieces of string, etc. Nana was sure he also had money hidden in them too, so I hope somebody checked after he died. He always said thieves wouldn’t find valuables if they were hidden in full view in places such as the toes of slippers. Apparently they left money in tins under the coal in the fireplace too! They had a huge row of dahlias which we got to deadhead during our visits. We went once a month once we got the car. There was a sunroom along the back of the house and a huge hydrangea plant by the back door where Nana would empty the tealeaves from the pot (no tea bags for her!) She said the acid in the leaves turned the flowers pink or blue, I don’t remember which!
Poppa died first. He died very peacefully in his sleep but on autopsy was found to have very severe cardiac disease. He never complained of chest pain and was digging in his garden till he died. Nana then moved into a 6plex apartment complex until her death. Again she was chatting to a neighbor in the morning and appeared fine. Jill and I didn’t go to either funeral and I have no idea where they were buried, or more likely their ashes were scattered.
They had false teeth which they took out at night and left in a jar in the kitchen, much to Jill and my amusement. Poppa also took senna pod daily, so there was a glass of brownish liquid on the kitchen window sill with the pod in it. I remember sitting on his lap at breakfast as a little kid. He would cut his toast into tiny squares then turn his head away as he lifted each piece, saying he’d heard a little bird, and I’d eat his toast out of his fingers before he turned back.
While Nana was widowed I spent a week alone with her over the summer holidays (Jill was already working by then). She arranged day trips to the vaudeville type theatre in Worthing, and we had a wonderful time together. She died shortly after I started at physio school, but I remember her excitement when I met a promising young guy at one of my first student dances. She was looking forward to updates!
As a young woman she and her sister Nancy ran a high class hat shop. Poppa actually dated Nancy before Win. He called them thunder and lightning as Win was solid and calm whereas Nancy was highly strung and slimmer. He was a policeman in Tooting Bec South London when Dad was born. He had severe asthma as a baby and Nana told me of exhausting times when she sat up all night with him in a steamy bathroom to help his breathing. At one point she thought he’d died and she says she tossed him onto the bed thinking she was almost relieved that finally she could get some sleep, when he started crying again obviously still alive!
They owned the house at 175 Raeburn Ave that Jill and I grew up in. I don’t know if they gave or sold it to Mum and Dad after the war when they moved to Rustington. No wonder we knew all the families in the street so well as Dad had lived amongst them for much of his childhood. People didn’t move much then.
Although both Nana and Poppa had siblings I never remember meeting or hearing about any extended family on the Sorrell side. I know George’s father was also a policemen, and they teased that there was also a gypsy Jack Sorrell in the area. Fact or fiction I have no idea!
Story written by Poppa George
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