The name on your programme reads, “George Thomas Harvey”, but to me he was just, “Dad”.  The story of his life falls into - an almost exact - two equal halves.  His first life - the first forty-four years - was, “Before Mum”.  His second life - the next forty-four years - was, “With Mum”.

Dad was born the seventh of eight children.  Only the youngest, Uncle Les, now survives.  He grew up in North Woolwich and left school at fourteen to work as a Clerk before joining the railways. 

In 1943 Dad was called up and joined the Royal Corps of Signals as a Driver Operator.  He drove ashore at D-Day - which was a blessing as he never learned to swim.  He was with Thirty Corp as it advanced across Northern Europe, driving a senior Officer on reconnaissance work and sending signals by morse code. 

During the liberation of Aarschott in Belgium he became close friends with a family that he stayed in touch with for the rest of his life.  Sadly, the last member of that family, Maria Lemmens, also recently passed away.  They spoke for the final time last Christmas. 

After the end of the war in Europe Dad was posted to Palestine as part of the peacekeeping force.  Then he was demobbed and returned to work on the railways.

He rarely spoke of his military service.  He saw and experienced some terrible things and mostly kept them to himself, only occasionally revealing small glimmers of details.

He spent the rest of his working life on the railway, first as a Porter and then in the ticket office before becoming a Controller.  He retired at the age of 58. 

Dad’s real love was sport.  In the 1950’s he won a prize as Sportsman of the Year while playing both football and cricket for the railway.  He also served as Treasurer for the cricket team in Belvedere.  But, typical of him, he never told us of these achievements.  We only found out when we came across hidden trophies.  You see, above all he was a quiet and modest man. 

But, he did have a good social life with his friends and travelled across Europe on his holidays, using his ‘priv card’ as a railway employee.  As the only member of his family who remained unmarried, he looked after his mother until her death.

And then, in 1967, Dad’s first life was over and the second, “With Mum”, started.  Mum was separated from her husband and was looking for a home for her, Linda and me, when she found a perfect house with a sitting tenant - George.  Lets just wonder - what would have happened if he had not answered that door?  But he did - and Mum bought the house.  Over time, love blossomed.  Films and shows in London seemed to have something to do with it, but what would I know?  Two years later, in May 1969, they married. 

Dad now had an instant family that included a seven-year old girl, Linda, and a nine-year old boy, me.  But it was not all a bed of roses.  We brought with us some baggage and I was not an easy son. 

He and I were so different.  He left school at 14; I went to university.  His interests were sport; mine were Scouting and the outdoors.  I remember how proud he was when I was selected to play cricket for the school.  How disappointed he must have been when I was out first ball.  He always said he had had enough of camping in the army so we never did that together.  He was practical; I was a book reading academic.  I remember he bought me train sets and meccano.  I showed some initial interest but they never became the shared pleasure that he must have wished for. 

In personality too, we were different.  Dad was quiet, modest and unassuming.  I am outgoing and – some would say – in your face.  But despite all of that, over time I grew to love him for the unselfish, generous and loving rock that he was - devoted to us and to Mum especially.  He was my Dad, if not my father.  I may not have his DNA, but I carry his name.  And it is a name that I strive to live up to.

We always said that Dad could not know just how life for him would change when he married Mum, and adopted Linda and me.  That is undoubtedly true.  Shortly after they married Mum became a committed Christian.  She was evangelical in her beliefs and very enthusiastic.  Although he didn’t make that same commitment himself – at least not at first – he was there; supporting Mum, providing for us. 

Some have said he must have been a saint.  Dad would not agree.  In fact he would not like that description at all.  But he was to us an angel; our guiding spirit with his practical, no nonsense, wisdom.  In time, Dad too became a committed Christian but I have always admired how he coped with the change in his life style after his marriage.

In 1972 we moved here to Gravesend and it was here, in a new area, that our family life took its own shape and pattern.  Throughout it all Mum and Dad were devoted to each other and set a great example to the rest of us.  They complemented each other – completed each other.  

One of the most significant changes was that Mum and Dad became foster parents.  First came Paul - as a baby - who they subsequently adopted.  Being so young it was as if Paul was Dad’s own.  They were very close indeed and had a lot of interests in common.  Other foster children followed, to whom Mum and Dad gave love and stability. 

We came here to Emmanuel to worship.  We threw ourselves into the life of the church and much of our time was spent here.  Mum became Captain of the Boys’ Brigade and Dad went camping after all, driving the minibus and running the tuck shop.  He is still known as ‘Tuck Shop George’ to many.

After retirement Dad enjoyed a quiet life; gardening, music – country music and military bands were his favourites – and walking the dog.  He enjoyed playing cards with a small group of friends.  And how could I possibly talk about his life without mentioning his love for a pint.  Love, yes.  But not – at least in his second life – to excess.  He was - after all - quiet, modest and sober.  Solid as a rock, despite whatever grief we brought to him – and there was plenty over the years.  But he was always there for us.  And always with a wonderfully witty and dry sense of humour.  As Linda and I married - Linda to Mark and me to Diane - and started our own families, he also became a doting grandfather.  And so another generation learned to love him.

So, that was George Thomas Harvey.  My Dad, if not my Father.  I have his name, if not his DNA.  But that to me is far more important.  He left his mark on all of our lives and I shall forever be grateful to him for the mark he left on mine.  Without him I cannot imagine what would have become of Mum, Linda and me.  I do know I would not have become the man I am now. 

I shall finish with Mum’s words rather than my own.

“George has been a wonderful, supportive, caring and loving husband to me and a considerate, generous and loyal Dad to Tony, Linda and Paul.

“He was a devoted and caring Grandad to Samuel, Bradley, Timothy, Georgina, Caroline and Tia and was delighted to be a Great-Grandad to Jake.

“Most of all George will be remembered for his big heart, unending patience, wisdom and a quiet understanding.

“We all miss you terribly George, and are so thankful that God blessed us through having you as part of our lives.”

Thank you Dad, and goodbye.