My Dad

Brian Martell 1938-2026. A slightly revised version of what I said at my dad's funeral. Brian was born in 1938 in Wolverhampton. He kept a trace of black country in his accent through his life. Of course, he supported Wolverhampton Wanderers, and even in his last days in hospital was asking about the Wolves scores. In the 2nd world war his dad, Cyril, was posted to India and they were separated for Brian's early years. Dad and his Mum, Hilda, hunkered down in the Anderson shelter in the garden when German bombers flew overhead. His parents were devoted to Brian and did everything they could for him. He passed the 11+ and went to grammar school, which he said saved him. He found religion as a teenager, much to the bemusement of his non-religious parents Brian went to London Bible College to study Theology and was a lay preacher in London. One day while going up the stairs at LBC he came across a girl having trouble opening the door to her room. Chivalrous and gallant, he helped her…