Do They Eat Carrots?: Life in the Lions

By Mick Jeffs

My life and adventures as a member of Plym Valley Lions Club

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Mar 24, 2014
• ISBN: 9781483524054

Book preview

9781483524054

PREFACE

It was ten minutes to six on the evening of Saturday July 10th 1982. The music of the Royal Marines Band died away, the drums rolled and the deep voice of the announcer, Lion Graham Hambly, introduced me as President of the Plym Valley Lions Club. I felt very proud as I climbed the steps of the makeshift dais and said, Ladies and Gentlemen, just a few short months ago our armed forces went 8,000 miles south to fight a war, triumphed and are now heading home. On behalf of the Plym Valley Lions Club I would like to present this cheque for £500 for the South Atlantic Fund to Captain Hitchens, Royal Navy, and captain of H.M.S. Defiance.

To the sound of the cheering crowds the captain stepped forward and accepted with a short speech before I introduced the Lord Mayor of Plymouth, Councillor Reg Scott, who officially opened the sixth annual Saltram Fayre.

That was the high point of my time as a member of the largest and, in my opinion, the greatest voluntary service organisation in the world. What more could a man ask than to be elected by his peers to lead the club through the most important period of their ten year history.

This is an account of my years as a Plym Valley Lion, one of the most memorable (and, as it came to pass, important) phases of my life.

CHAPTER ONE

WHO IS THIS BLOKE?

I can remember the first time I ever heard of ‘The Lions’. It was in 1970; my friend, Brian Spencer, who ran a Plymouth motor cycle dealership, told me he was going as a guest to a ‘Boxing Evening’ in the Continental Hotel run by the Lions Club of Plymouth. His description of a charitable event where, after dinner and a fair amount of various alcoholic beverages, the all male audience became a little raucous as they were entertained by local amateur boxers. On my query as to who or what were the Lions he explained that it was some sort of international organisation that raised money for local charities. I was later to learn that Lions International, started, of course, in America, was the largest service organisation of its kind in the world and when Brian told me about some of the events and stunts they were involved in, it somehow stuck in my mind.

At that time I was working for Campbells, the local branch of Great Universal Stores credit trading division. I was a so called tally man; I sold goods door to door that people had no idea they could not live without and collected the payments weekly. And I was very good at it! I worked no more than 20 hours a week, earned a good wage and drove a company car which was renewed every other year. In annual sales competitions – floor covering, bedding and Christmas goods and others - I won many prizes – Christmas hampers, cameras, cash bonus’s and holidays. We owned a boat and each summer weekend explored Plymouth Sound and beyond, making many friends amongst the boating fraternity. Life was very sweet; but that was all to change quite suddenly.

It was my wife Maureen’s birthday in September 1972. We were having drinks with our friends and one of the crowd, I think it was Brian, said, You and Maureen coming on holiday with us next year Mick?

Where to? I enquired.

Well, we’re thinking of Jamaica.

This was long before Freddie Laker and others had started the cheap Atlantic crossings and the moon was a more likely destination than Jamaica so I said, No chance, can’t afford it.

And that was that, except it got me thinking. Our crowd of friends included Brian and his wife Dulcie, own business (motor bikes); Joe and Glad, own business (Reliant cars); their son, Andy (dentist); Rog and Joyce (invoice discounting); Mike and Mickey, their wives being Pat and Heather, had recently left Vospers Motors to run their own garage. I was the only one in the group working for a weekly wage.

A few years earlier in 1965 Maureen’s mother and father, still living where we had both grown up in Neasden, north west London, purchased a new Wimpey home in Plympton, five miles outside Plymouth, in readiness for Dad’s retirement and we moved in as tenants; meanwhile we let our house in Mutley. When he did finish with London Transport in 1972, knowing how much we liked the Plympton house, he bought a bungalow in nearby Colebrook and sold the Wimpey house to us for a very reasonable price, leaving a fair amount of equity.

It occurred to me that there was no reason why I should not be doing for myself what I was doing for Sir Isaac Wolfson and the GUS organisation. Within six weeks of the Jamaica conversation I had raised a bank overdraft with the house as collateral, bought a second hand car from Mickey and Mike, given in my notice at Campbells and begun knocking on doors (usually those of old customers which was against the rules of my G.U.S. contract but I got away with it) introducing my new company, Moorland Supplies (we lived in Moorland Drive).

My childhood friend from Neasden, Mac Camp, had been in the Fleet Airarm at the same time that I was in the Royal Navy. After his discharge and a failed marriage he came to Plymouth and became a butcher at Wembury on the south east outskirts of the city. My Friday travels took me in his direction and I would call in and have a coffee with him. One day he said he was going to join the newly formed Plym Valley Lions Club and from then on I would get weekly reports of their activities of which I very much liked the sound.

One Friday, early in March 1974, Mac invited me to