Like most people I was very shocked and then saddened by the
passing of Kelvin on Sunday. Kelvin, an absolute gentleman.
When I think of Kelvin, I think of three things: his
enthusiasm for cricket, his passion for the community of Over Stowey and his
love for his family; all somewhat are interrelated.
On a Saturday afternoon during the summer months you would
always find Kelvin at the cricket ground in Over Stowey watching the game at
the club dearest to his heart.
He would watch his two grandsons, play for either the 1st
XI or the 2nd XI, with his two daughters and two granddaughters
cheering on, which no doubt, would make him one happy grandfather.
After the game, you would then find him behind the bar at
the Social Club, pouring a pint or two for the thirsty players, supporters (and
an umpire!). He would always have his own thoughts about the game played that
afternoon, and players would listen and take note.
I would like to share just a few stories about Kelvin, which
always warm my heart when I think about them.
I was once captain of the 2nd XI, and Kelvin
would still be playing then. One rainy afternoon at Brompton Ralph it looked as
if play would be abandoned for the day. Eventually the rain stopped and it was
agreed that we would have a reduced game on their artificial wicket. Kelvin
refused to play. He said: “it’s my Daughter’s wedding next weekend, and there
is no way I am going out there, get wet, come down with a cold and spoil my
Daughter’s wedding.” After a while he somewhat relented, put his whites on,
played, and the following week he walked his daughter down the aisle without a
cold.
Kelvin would always find time to talk to you, no matter what.
When I was still at mothers living, I would always walk the dog first thing in
the morning. When Kelvin was on the early shift as he drove to work, he
would always stop and we would have a chat. The subject would always be
cricket, if it was the middle of winter we would usually compare notes about
the England team in some foreign field, usually in how badly they were
performing; or in the summer months, talking about Somerset and of course Over
Stowey.
One last story: One of Kelvin’s most important roles in the
community was barman at Over Stowey Social Club. Saturday afternoon’s as the
cricket would draw to a close, Kelvin, along with Wendy, would be ready in
their car (the little red Escort was the one I would look out for most) to
leave the ground to go and open the social club. I, along with a few other
spectators, would be willing for the final wicket to fall or the winning run to
be hit, as by then we would normally be out of cider. As soon as Kelvin would
leave, I was not that far behind him. Somehow Kelvin would know I would be
first in the bar as my tankard would be on the bar ready to fill up.
As the shock of Kelvin’s passing slowly sinks in, my
thoughts, along with many, go to his family. Wendy, such a loving wife; his two
daughters: Sharon and Tina; his grandchildren: Micheal, Courtney, Stephen and
Amy; and to all his extended family.
Yes we will mourn; but we will always remember the legend
and absolute gentleman Kelvin. His smile of contentment driving home from Bagborough
as Stowey celebrated winning the Division Two title is one lasting memory I’ll
never forget.
I am privileged to have known such a wonderful man.
