A very warm and heartfelt welcome to the memorial website for our beloved parents Marion 'Mavis' Pritchard (nee Witter), and Ronald 'Ron' Pritchard, beloved parents to Beverly, Deborah, and Andrew, and doting grandparents to Giovanni, Stefan, Jamie, and Hayden.
The family has set up this website to collect the wonderful and happy memories of our loving parents.
Mum and Dad had 65 years of loving marriage together and never spent a night apart from each other in all that time.
This was their journey Mavis, set off from her homeland in Jamaica when she was only 22, determined to make a new life for herself in the UK. And what a life she lived, becoming an integral part of the local community, helping and inspiring young people, and always showing love, compassion, and kindness to family, friends, and strangers. She was strong, courageous, and fearless, a tour de force to be reckoned with who when she made up her mind to do something, she made it happen.
She left a legacy for all of her family and friends of a lady who was well ahead of her time in who she was, in her thinking, and achieving her ambitions.
Sadly Dad passed away on the morning of 1st April 2020, from a broken heart, less than 8 months after the death of his beloved wife Mavis.
Unfortunately, owing to the Coronavirus pandemic, we were not allowed to give him the send-off he deserved.
Ronald (Ronnie) Albert Francis Pritchard was born on the 28th of May 1932 in Hoxton, East London. He was the second eldest after his brother George and was followed by brothers Lenny and Tony. He had three sisters called Helen (Queenie), Patricia, and Ann.
George, Ronnie, and Queenie were evacuated to Cornwall during WW II, while their mother stayed in the East End with her three youngest children. The main reason they had to stay was that my grandfather’s experience as a master builder was valuable in rebuilding bomb-damaged structures. After the war, my grandfather passed on his bricklaying skills to my father.
He was an authentic cockney with a strong East End work ethic and associated family values. Upon completion of his National Service with the Royal Air Force (RAF), he began work as an accomplished bricklayer who was able to lay a domino (1000 bricks) a day.
In 1955, in spite of not having a driving licence, dad decided to establish a domestic paraffin oil delivery business. Together with his brother-in-law, they would send out their small fleet of tanker lorries full of “ESSO Blue Paraffin”.
By 1958, dad started to meet and become friends with several Jamaicans. Bill Hill and his wife Sadie were two of them. Dad and his brother-in -law supplied paraffin to Bill who had established a local route selling paraffin to most of the Caribbean community within the area.
Bill had the ambition to create the first Caribbean nightclub in London. Dad agreed to become the Company Secretary in order to help his friend achieve a Music and Dance license. Dad also did most of the building work on the club for him. The Pepper Pot Club opened in 1958 at 60 Green Lanes Haringey, with a main bar and dance area upstairs and a basement area. Every weekend, smartly dressed West Indians would gather to listen to the latest tunes from the ‘Melodisc' music label.
My parents first met in 1959 when dad was invited to a West Indian party in North London. Mum had attended the same party. The party was a new experience for my father, who found himself surrounded by Jamaicans of the Windrush generation, happy to have found work in post-war England. They all enjoyed basement parties using simple gramophones and eating Jamaican dishes.
Dad was not an extrovert; for much of the party, he stood quietly against a wall just watching and drinking. My mother was an elegant, attractive, woman who took the initiative and asked him to dance. After an evening of enjoying each other’s company, dad asked mum on a date.
Famously, when mum asked dad what car he drove, he pointed to a red Double Decker bus. That snapshot in time was one of two people with very little except for great ambition and a wish for a better life. As a term of endearment from that day onward, my father called my mum as Doll.
They were soon living together in a small flat above the Pepper Pot Club. During that time mum was working at a light bulb factory, and one morning walking with mum on her way to work they noticed a “Flat for Rent” sign outside a property in Stoke Newington. Dad and mum rented the downstairs section of the property until they bought it as their first house in 1961. Times were hard and they spent their first Christmas with little furniture; Dad just managed to connect a gas cooker on Christmas Eve, allowing Mavis to cook a small roast chicken for dinner.
Dad was prepared to do whatever job he had to in order to provide for his family. This included working as a call-out driver for the local council and even driving dustbin lorries.
Two years later, my sister Deborah was born. Shortly after her birth, dad and mum sent for my half-sister Beverly. I was born on 25th October 1966 when my sisters were three and fourteen years old. As the youngest child and baby brother, I was somewhat unruly.
Dad was a lifelong Arsenal supporter, a Pritchard family tradition carried on over four generations. This was were my love for the game grew. If we couldn't get to a match I would often stand in the back garden with him, listening to the game on the radio but able to hear the cheers from the old Highbury Stadium when Arsenal scored.
Dad being an exceptional bricklayer had started working in partnership with mums younger brother uncle Charlie who was also a builder. This led to many private building contracts, due mainly to their standing in the West Indian community. But also their work was popular amongst the Jewish Orthodox community of Stamford Hill. They would employ many of the local wayward youth to work as labours. Regardless, dad took pride in teaching them brick-laying skills as had been taught to him.
By the mid-1970's I was also getting my own private tuition from my dad. I would regularly accompany him on a Saturday morning to building jobs. Now that the Asian community had come to know about "Mr Ron the builder," his reasonable prices, and good work his business was growing and our family started to prosper, my parents found themselves in the fortunate position of being able to buy other properties.
Mum and dad were an unstoppable force. In 1986 they managed to buy a run-down off licence in Homerton East London. Dad with his building skills extended the building. Coupled with my parent's hard work ethic "Hackney Wine Corner" soon became a successful family business that went on to serve the local community for over 20 years.
What can I say about our dad; He loved us. I could see it in his words, his face, and his actions. He loved our mum. And was always faithful to her. He was honest, both to us and to others. I never remember him telling a lie. He worked hard. He understood the value of a hard day’s work and wasn’t afraid of it. He cared about people more than money. He helped others. He looked for opportunities to serve—especially those who couldn’t help themselves. He was generous. With his home, his money, his time, and his energy. He made us laugh. It was always fun to spend time with him. He loved life. He cherished all the moments of life—the big ones and the little ones. He was proud of us. He told us often. But he pushed us to improve. He parented out of love and a genuine desire for us to succeed. He saw the best in people. He loved his family. He cared for his parents. He was always good to mom. His love for her provided a healthy model for my family. He had a smile every morning.
Each day provided a wealth of opportunity. And he chose to greet it with a smile. He was unselfish. Life was always about more than getting the most for yourself. He was wise. He had a healthy grasp on people, life, and situations. He was quick to forgive. He knew that he had been forgiven much. And was quick to offer that same grace to others. He didn’t let culture dictate his beliefs. I knew I could count on him when I needed him. Anytime, day or night. For some reason, I couldn’t get away with lying to him. He demanded honesty and I respected that. He could read me too well. He dreamed big dreams for me. Even when I didn’t believe in myself, he did. He loved his job. He worked hard at his job not because of the money, but because he believed in what he did. And with this many life lessons to teach my children, I better not waste a single day—including this one.
“Perhaps they are not the stars, but rather openings in heaven where the love of our lost ones pours through and shines down upon us to let us know they are happy.”
In honor of them, this network is about preserving the history of the Pritchard and Witter family for future generations.
As we grow older, knowing one’s history and sense of identity becomes evermore important. In today’s digital world, we are given the opportunity to record our family legacy.
Video (still frame) We filmed the church service, burial and reception. An edited video slideshow of the day's proceedings has now been uploaded to the Gallery section of this website under the video tab, titled Video tribute to Marion 'Mavis' Rebecca Pritchard.
Audio:A selection of Mavis and Ron's favorite songs can be listened to as background music, whilst navigating your way through this website. By simply going onto the Gallery section and then pressing the tab marked Audio, you will be able to choose from a variety of their favorite songs".
Order of Service Introit ~ Abide with meCollect ~ Fr MorrisEulogy ~ Johnathan Kong Tribute 1~ Patricia Witter Alridge (niece)Tribute 2 ~ Helen (sister-in-law)Hymn ~ What a friendRevelation 21 ~ Rosemarie (niece) Psalm 23 ~ Response: The Lord is my Shepherd ~ Sandra (niece)Hymn ~ Amazing GraceJohn 6 ~ read by Fr RimmerSermon ~ Fr BeerOffertory ~ How great thou artEucharistic PrayerHoly CommunionHymn ~ The old rugged CrossCommendation and BlessingRecessional ~ West life ~ You raise me up