The Great Provider

By Jenny Edwards

In this extraordinary memoir Jenny vividly recounts her past with emotional honesty making it an absorbing account of the incredible life of THE GREAT PROVIDER her father Ernest Johns.

A Powerful true story of Love and Life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Balboa Press AU
• Release date: Nov 24, 2014
• ISBN: 9781452526539

Jenny Edwards

Jenny is foremost an Artist who has been writing most of her life, whilst raising a family of 4 sons who she is immensely proud of. Jenny also owned and ran a delightful Quaint Teashop in Cornwall called "Just Jenny's" She Graduated from Sydney College of Journalism & Media on 16th April 2004. It took 9 years to complete whilst running her Teashop. As a renowned and Accomplished Artist whose paintings hang in homes around the world, I’m sure there will be a sequel to this profound and heartwarming story of a Family at war and peace.

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Copyright © 2014 Jenny Edwards.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Balboa Press

A Division of Hay House

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Bloomington, IN 47403

www.balboapress.com.au

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

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ISBN: 978-1-4525-2652-2 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4525-2653-9 (e)

Balboa Press rev. date: 11/18/2014

Contents

PART ONE

The Beginning

The Story Begins

Mums Story

The Wedding

A Partnership Begins

The First Day Dawns

Motherhood

A Baby Arrives

The Woe of War

Winnies Champagne

The Loss

End of the War Is Nigh

PART TWO

A Family at Peace

Goodbye Sarah

The Final Mouth

A Johnsy Christmas

Getting Back In The Good Books

The Holiday

A Third Working Daughter

Pamela’s Wedding

A Baby is Born

The Nightmare Begins

Goodbye William

Diane’s Loss

Goodbye To Jenny

Destination New Zealand - Farewell Sam

Arrival Down Under

The Bombay Skid

We Made It!

The Visit

The Golden Year

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Jessie & Ernest Johns (as children)

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Sarah Johns & James (Her son-Dads Brother)

Editorial

This is a true biographical story. Beginning in 1886 and following the lives of two sets of grandparents and following through to the children that now have their own story to tell.

To the memory of my dear Dad

with special thanks to my Mum

Dedicated to My Four sons Robert, Trevor, Shaun & Raymond who

I am immensely Proud of.

Love Moma

JENNY

Part One

The Beginning

Like the sands of time, so are the days of our lives. The sands of time in this story begin to flow in 1886. Ada Emily Beatrice Norman was born that year, born into a world far removed from the fast pace we know today. She was born before many inventions, and a far cry from World Wars. Brought up in a Victorian family, dresses reached the floor and met the buttoned boots, not an inch of flesh would show. An elegant time, the horse bus transported you to your destination.

In the three hundred years between the Norman Conquest and the death of the Black Prince in 1371, Plymouth grew to become the fourth town in England in size and one of its most important ports;

Ada was born in Plymouth, her early life remains unknown and untalked about, but we know that she grew into a beautiful young woman with fine skin and hair. Her company was sought after by the opposite sex, but her initial choice of a man was to prove tragic. She was carrying her first child, a boy, when the telegram arrived to announce that the man she intended to marry, who was the father of her child, was killed in action. The words from the war office simply conveyed that this child would never know its father.

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Picture from after the WW1

The 1914 war when it came in August, was not the brief and glorious adventure they had been led to expect, and the lives of everyone, even those far from the mud of Flanders became bogged down in the grinding conflict that followed. Familys all over were to suffer the sad receipt of a telegram with the printed words KILLED IN ACTION.

At the same time in our story in another area of Plymouth, Devon, another woman, Sarah Jane Johns (nee Sloman) was raising a large family after marrying James Johns, better known to everyone as Jimmy. She also received a similar telegram. Her son of nineteen years, Jimmy Johns Jnr. was shot through the head as he tried to climb clear of a trench, during the thick of the fighting. When she received the news, Sarah, a fine looking woman with striking features, had a full head of dark hair, she took to her bed clutching the telegram tight to her chest. When she awoke much later, her fine tresses were grey. Tragedy had robbed her of her youth.

These two women, Sarah Johns and Ada Norman had never met, they lived separate lives in the same town. In their own way they produced the story I am about to tell. A true story of life, love, anguish, pain and laughter.

The Story Begins

Picture a pretty little harbour, just up the coast from Plymouth. Brixham had its fair share of small fishermans cottages and wooden fishing boats. The port survived on the industry. The year is 1888, the boats bobbed about in the bay saucily challenging the icy winter winds.

In one of the little cottages, William George Westlake was born on the night of 29th November 1888. He was the baby who would grow into manhood and propose to Ada, who lost her first love in the war. The child she gave birth too, Stanley Norman, was three years old at the time they first set eyes on each other, he fell for the beautiful Ada and she accepted his proposal of marriage. William Westlake was a seaman who had been sent to sea by his father at the tender age of eleven. He sailed the great tall ships. The long haul to India and Africa around the Cape with the winds beating mercilessly against the big wooden ships, sculptured him into a hard determined man. He survived each long dangerous trip to return to his dear wife, who produced a child after each shore leave.

At the time of their marriage little Stanley was three years old. The first child born of their union was a girl, Beatrice (Beattie). The second child, also a girl was named Jessie Emily. The third child yet another girl, was named Edna. She was just two years and four months old when another baby was on its way. Could William have the son he yearned for this time. He had returned from a journey to India when the child was conceived, the year was now 1916. Ada was still a young woman of twenty nine and her husband two years younger at twenty seven when the woman of this story was born to them. Her birth was late December, 29th December 1916, the child, another girl, weighed a hefty 10lbs. 8oz. a nice comfortable start to a life that held very few treats in those times.

Phylis Lillian Westlake was born in the same Victoria Buildings in Harwell Street, Portland Square, where her mother and grandmother lived. She was born in a back bedroom, the doctors visits cost tuppence a time, and Ada already owed the doctor plenty for past visits, so she struggled bravely and delivered her baby with the help of other women who occupied flats in the buildings.

With a husband away at sea for long periods of time, a woman with five children had her work cut out.

The buildings were a collection of eight flats that were reached by walking through an arched passageway that was always dark, damp and dismal, this opened out into a communal courtyard where everything took place. Women gathered on Monday mornings armed with tin baths, scrubbing boards (Dollyboards) and huge cakes of soap, ready to do the family wash.

Ada would dress for the occasion covering her ample frame with a large apron made from sacking.

Whilst the cauldron bubbled away above the fire in the flat cooking six penneth of meat and two penneth of veg, Ada would spend all day Monday which was ‘Wash-Day’, dressed in an old sack apron to protect her clothes, and with her old mans boots on she would wash and scrub the clothes, with the sound of laughter and children’s noise around in the courtyard. The air was full of peace after the end of the first world war. The women chattered amongst themselves, filling lines full of clothes blowing in the warm sunshine.

1920

Time moved on. Phylis was three years old when she was enrolled in the State School to learn her three ‘R’s reading - riting - rithmetic. She would return home after the long day to watch as her mother fed the latest arrival. This baby was so welcome, because it was a boy. George was the baby that broke the pattern of all the girls. Pregnancy was never discussed at home, your mother just wore a bigger apron to conceal her changing shape, so it was no surprise when just a year later in 1921, Ada produced another boy. This child was a sad reminder of what can go wrong. Baby Gerald was born with a very enlarged head, he was brain deformed and both ears had been damaged by severe birth complications.

The house was quiet, there was no celebrating. They quickly named the child Gerald, he sadly died a week later. Phylis remembered seeing his small still body laid out in a large shoe box. With tiny hands she reached up to the top of the dresser towering above her, pulled herself up and peeked into the shoe box. She was five and a half at the time.

1922

It had been a long hot summer, full of wash days and ironing days, a feat in itself with huge heavy irons heated on the shelf of the open fire, and tested for temperature with spittle - if it sizzled it was hot enough. A heavy blanket was thrown across the table, covered by an old sheet which bore scorch marks made from previous ironing days. Hours of pressing white pinafores began.

With the tragedy of the previous year’s loss well behind her and the family growing away, Beattie, Jessie and Edna as young women out dancing and enjoying the attentions of young men. Ada, their mother became the butt of their jokes by becoming pregnant yet again. Beattie was working in the laundry of the City Hospital (now Freedom Fields). Jessie was ‘In-Service’ for a very nice family, Mr and Mrs Kitto who had a large house on Citadel Road, The Hoe. In Plymouth. They treasured Jessie’s services. The two girls were not amused when their mother got pregnant at such an age! Ada was thirty six years old when the twins arrived without ceremony, so now the family was increased by two more mouths to feed in the form of Thomas and Alfred, that made nine.

To complete Ada’s part in our story we leap to 1929. By then Ada had respectfully reared eight children, nine if you count the baby she sadly lost. She had done this almost single handedly, caring for her own bedridden mother as well. When at fourty three she discovered she was about to bear another child. Roy Westlake was born March 17th 1929.