R.I.P. Dad
February 6, 1934 – July 26, 2024
I’m not going to email this out, but leave it here as a little remembrance for my lovely Dad.
Robin Edward Cook had a twinkle in his eye, just like his mother, my Nan.
He was an inventor of sorts, fashioning incredibly useful contraptions from scribbles on paper that only he could interpret.
Legend has it that his first home-made contrivance was a metallic child-sized Robot that he wheeled to school. A robot that gave kids an electric shock if they shook its hand.
Dad never had a bad word to say about anyone, not even the Germans he was stationed with after the war, and on his return his passion for Grass Track racing led to him repairing motorbikes for his friends and using his grandfather’s spare shed as a workshop.
This passion eventually led him to starting his own business, Carshalton Rebore Service, which my Mum helped run as delivery driver and bookkeeper.
When I wanted a box cart as a kid, Dad built me one with a chassis and proper steering, but left me to paint the flames along the side.
Dad took me to all the best Science Fiction films of the time. Journey to the far side of the Sun, Fantastic Voyage, and others, and as my brother Martin got older, he took us all.
In the 70s, during recession and the three-day week, he was the only business running for five, because he bought a huge old stationary engine that was powerful enough to keep all the machines running and keep his men employed.
He also built a contraption at home that consumed waste oil, so that we had free central heating throughout the winter. He held some patents.
He was fun, he was kind, and he was quirky. He loved his cat, Jessie, he had a strong interest in Ufology, and he once bought a bloody great vintage Steam Roller that he had to keep on a friend’s farm.
He was the best Dad we could have possibly wished for; for me, for my brother Martin, and our cousin Lorna.
Five nights ago, I dreamt that Mum and Dad were sitting on a beach together again, so I think I’ll treasure that particular thought.
A lovely tribute Steve, with (as ever) some wonderful photos: especially the first, full of life and mischief and proving that your Dad never lost his taste for cool leather jackets. All best to you and Martin.
May his memory be a blessing.