In Loving Memory of
Albert James Sivers
3 November 1931 – 1 February 1987
A proud man. A hardworking man. A much-loved Dad.
“Treat people how you expect to be treated — with kindness, respect and care.”
Passed away 1 February 1987, aged 55
His Story
Dad was a proud, old-fashioned sort of man who believed strongly in hard work, responsibility and doing things properly.
One of the things he often said was: “You never get nothing for free in this world.” He lived by that belief.
He worked incredibly hard throughout his life and rarely, if ever, took time off sick. Holidays were not something he particularly believed in either. Work, family and providing for the people around him were what mattered.
Army Years
For 22 years he served in the Royal Electrical and Mechanical Engineers — REME, reaching the rank of Sergeant. His Army career took him around the world, repairing and recovering military vehicles and working with Jeeps and large Scammell recovery lorries.
Being an Army child brought some wonderful memories. I remember visiting Dad in the workshop at the Drill Hall. It always smelled of grease, machinery and hard work, and getting dirty seemed to be part of the experience.
One day he put me into one of the huge Scammell lorries. I felt like the Queen of the road. Those are the memories that stay with you.
Hard Work Was Part of Who He Was
After his Army career, Dad worked at the steel works in Corby for around 13 years.
Unfortunately, a serious heart attack forced him to retire early at only 54. For a man who had worked all his life and who didn’t really believe in taking time off, retirement must have been incredibly difficult to accept.
He and Mum had even begun talking about taking a cruise together. Sadly, that opportunity never came.
Early on Sunday morning, 1 February 1987, Dad died peacefully in bed at the age of only 55. It was just a week before he was due to receive his retirement money from the steel works. After a lifetime of hard work, he never really had the opportunity to enjoy the retirement he had earned.
Life With Dad
Some of my happiest memories are the simplest ones.
Dad and I would go for long walks together through the New Forest. He would point out things in nature and explain what you could and couldn’t eat in the wild. We would walk, talk and explore together.
We also went fishing on the River Nene in Northamptonshire when I was younger. I can’t remember us catching very much. But I remember being there with Dad. And that matters far more.
He also had a mischievous side. For years, he convinced me that spaghetti grew on trees. And for far longer than I care to admit, I believed him.
Growing Up
As I grew older, there became more distance between Dad and me. Looking back now, I think he probably found it difficult watching his little girl grow into a young woman in a changing world. And I became a bit of a rebel.
I didn’t always listen to him or appreciate the wisdom behind the things he told me. That’s something I regret now. There are so many conversations I wish we could have again. So many questions I’d ask. And so many things I’d tell him.
The Things That Made Dad, Dad
Dad had so many little habits and interests that made him unmistakably himself.
His cooking
He was a wonderful cook. He made fantastic spaghetti dishes and curries, and his bread pudding had his own little twist — just a touch of cocoa powder.
His clothes
Dad always looked smart. Most days he wore a shirt and trousers. Sundays were apparently different — a vest and trousers would do. He once told me that jeans were what people wore in prison. That still makes me laugh. Whenever he went out, his flat cap came with him — just as working men had worn them for generations.
Looking after Mum
Dad would sometimes walk down to the local bingo hall to meet Mum when she finished. Then they would walk home together. He simply wanted to make sure she got home safely. That says a great deal about the sort of man he was.
His Community
Dad cared deeply about working people and his community. He was a Labour supporter in the tradition he believed represented ordinary working families. One of his proudest achievements was being elected as a Northamptonshire County Councillor. He worked hard for people locally and tried to make a difference wherever he could.
One story I particularly remember is Dad helping a young deaf boy gain access to mainstream schooling. He talked about it with real pride. It wasn’t about recognition. It was about helping someone who needed somebody to stand up for them.
Dad’s Favourite Things
Stamp collecting
I spent hours sitting with Dad working on his stamp collection, licking the little stamp hinges and helping him place stamps Mum had bought from the Post Office into his collection books.
Cars
Dad could spend endless hours fixing cars in his garage.
His mouth organ
One of the sounds of home was Dad playing his mouth organ in the bath.
Photography
Dad loved photography. In the 1970s, he took photographs around the quarry in Corby, including the enormous dragline used to excavate iron ore for the steel works. When we were there together, we would also search for fossils. And sometimes we actually found them.
Homemade wine
Dad enjoyed making his own wine. The peach wine was particularly memorable — absolutely gorgeous.
Christmas
Dad loved Christmas. One of my strongest pictures of him is sitting in front of the fire with his bowl of uncracked nuts and a nutcracker nearby, watching Christmas television. The Two Ronnies. Dave Allen. The Generation Game.
Dad was very much a home man. Work, home, television and his family were enough to make him happy.
The Music Dad Loved
Dad particularly loved The Seekers. Among his favourites were “I’ll Never Find Another You” and “The Carnival Is Over”. Those songs will always make me think of him.
Dad’s Words
“The Lord helps those who help themselves.”
“Treat people how you expect to be treated — with kindness, respect and care.”
These weren’t just sayings. They were lessons. And they have stayed with me through some of the hardest periods of my own life.
A Life in Pictures
If I Could Have One More Day
If I could have just one more day with Dad, I wouldn’t need anything extraordinary.
I’d walk through the New Forest with him again. Or sit beside him on the bank of the River Nene. We’d talk. I’d tell him about my life. I’d tell him how much the world has changed. I’d listen properly this time.
And most importantly, I’d tell him how much I love him. And how much I wish I’d spent more time with him when I had the chance.
Until We Meet Again
Dad,
Our family was never quite the same after you went away. I miss you more than words can really explain.
But I know that somehow you’re still beside me, walking with me every step of the way.
I have never forgotten your words. I have never forgotten the lessons you taught me. And I will never forget you.
Until we meet again.
Your Sweetpea,
Annie x
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