Ted Conley (1926-1991)

This Father’s Day I approach the age my old dad died in 1991. This is a little tribute to a very clever, “warmly scouse” man who worked hard all his life and loved his family. Happy Father’s Day, Dad. Although written for Fathers Day, 2022 this post is listed remembering his life between 6th October 1926 to 1991.

1926 HELLO LITTLE TEDDY Here is Edward Anthony Conley. Son of Arthur and Bridget Conley, born in 51 Field Lane, Litherland on 6th October 1926. His mum Bridget (b. 1900) was a strong Gaelic-speaking woman. She had been through the mill: a young escapee from Ireland carrying my dad’s older half-brother. She must have been welcomed into to the tiny community that was Litherland Field Lane Tannery workers just after WW1. The family lived in a "Tanny house", their backyard (with a Thomas Crapper WC, wooden plank-with-hole model) overlooking the canal. It was later auntie Joan's shop but was known as "Conley's" for years. The house is still there.
1931 HIS MUM, DAD & SCHOOLING Life in inter-war years Field Lane must have been tough. Little Ted was packed off to school (English Martyrs, in the old Victorian stone building pic) before the rest of the school and current church had been built. Dad would have seen rickets and ringworm while still in short pants. I later played in the same playground and heard the same bell (see the school walk-around movie***). We even had the same teacher (Mr. Woolfarth, who was my headmaster). Many years later (in the 1980s when he was very frail) I told Mr. Woolfarth dad had taught me one of his comic sayings that he used with misbehaving children in the 1930s: "I will not tolerate or insinuate any diabolical insolence from you, you flabbergasted piece of animosity". He loved that. On 10 January 1939, with WW2 beckoning, Bridget (pic) was widowed of tannery worker Arthur (pic) leaving dad (aged 13) and his brothers Richard, Jack, and his young sister Margaret (Joan) in number 51. https://youtu.be/Akuon9fd12o
1940s DAD GROWING UP IN LITHERLAND I remember dad telling me how he studied at the old Bootle Tech night school and got an apprentice electrician's job in Wooliscroft's - one of the many engineering firms in 1940s Liverpool. Here he is with his works team (bottom row, left). For many years I thought he played for New Brighton (see scrawl at top) but recent searches don't support this. I used to skit him about the second photo in his Mersey Cables team kit - "Ha Ha, Dad's got a skirt on". He must've been quite good as old blokes used to come up to him in the pub and say "Teddy Conley, the best centre-half that ever played for English Martyrs!". Dad was a an electrician, and became known as "Ted Sparks"
1958 DAD AND LITTLE ED Mum and dad went through the trauma of losing a baby girl at birth in the mid-50's. It stayed with them for the rest of their days. Then on May 14th, 1958, I came along. These three photos say just how much I meant to dad. The first two were taken in the prefab and the third in Hatton Hill Park, where it looks like I'm being a bit of a handful. It’s from the time I had shiny blonde hair and dad still had plenty of his left. He is between 32 and 34 years old in these pics.
1953 DAD'S WEDDING DAY. In April 1953 in Cambridge, England Watson and Crick published their findings on the structure of DNA; in London, preparations were advanced for the Queen's coronation, Hillary and Tensing were going up Everest. Meanwhile in Litherland on April 1st, dad got wedded to my lovely mum Ruby. Their first home was a one-up one down, no inside water or toilet tannery cottage in Greenfield Lane. It was soon condemned, and they moved to the prefab next to the park in Hatton Hill. Mum told me every bit of cash they had went on the wedding. It was all very old fashioned. I still have a lucky silver horseshoe they were given that day.
1950s-1980s SOCIAL DAD Mum and dad got out and about a lot during the early years thanks to his cars (next page). He supported my mum's singing across the northwest, especially around Liverpool and the Rufford, Croston and Bretherton districts of Lancashire. In the pics they are in The DeTrafford Arms (Croston) and the Fermor Arms (Rufford, both no longer there). In later years dad could be seen in the Salt Box, The Red Lion, The Whitehouse, The Liverpool Arms (the LA) and the Queen of Peace Club. Here he is in the red Lion across the bar and in QOP Club on a Sunday afternoon with our friends Mr and Mrs Lawrenson (parents of my school mate Ged). A quick story re the L.A. - When I was a student in London, I used to come home for a weekend and for a surprise, not let him know. I'd get off the 55 with a big suitcase, go into the L.A, stalk quietly and tap him on the shoulder. When he turned around to see me, he'd usually shout out "HELLO WACK, WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?" and I used to see those tears in his eyes - he was made up to see me. The first time I went "down that London" he came with me to Lime Street Station - it was like the scene from "Brief Encounter". As the train moved off, he shouted "DO YOUR UTTY [UTMOST] IN THE BIG CITY ED". He was again made up. He never could verbalise the love and pride he had in me, but he showed it in other ways.
1950s-1970s DADS CARS & BIKES Dad would be lost today with sealed engines and integrated electronics. He would much rather fiddle with old bangers every weekend. A British car and bike enthusiast, he also bought some British turkeys. He owned, in order of the pics an old shape black Ford Popular, a grey Standard 8, a cream Austin A35, a pale green Austin A40 estate, a yellow Renault Dauphine, a brown and white Triumph Herald and finally a white and rust Ford Anglia. Each one was carefully picked at Anfield car auctions with me as underbody rust inspector. All were bought for a few squids and fixed up. We used to take the entire family for round the block trips in them when we brought them home. [Note in Pic2 is a Go-Kart that Dad made for me aged six I got on it in the back garden and crashed it into the fence. I think then mum banned it and told dad off. It rusted to bits over the next few years]. The bottom two pics describe a BSA C-10L which dad renovated from scratch together with a Yamaha 50 moped which was my first motorbike that I also crashed - that was (unfortunately for mum) rebuilt in our kitchen.
1940s-1980s DAD THE GRAFTER "Ted Sparks" loved his job as the electrician on the Mersey dredger fleet (particularly, the "Mersey Compass"). If any ship's diesel-electric engines broke down, it was down to Ted Sparks to fix it. This of course had me wanting to be a spark too, but I came to the job market in the 1980s - just as Mersey Docks were winding down. Dad was indeed made redundant in 1981. It was heart-breaking to see him in his shed re-enacting a busy day in his mock MDHC workshop. He had salvaged lathes and materials from the skip and put them in his shed. He even had a "works clock" for his 8-to-4 work pattern. Devastating. Here he is with mates from the Mersey Compass days, him coming home with me surprise photographing him, Echo-in-hand, and having his well-earned tea of sausage and chips. A grafter, was my dad.
1981-1983 THE KINDNESS OF DAD In later years dad would make all my Perspex lab equipment usually costing thousands of pounds. I would call him at home in Brunel Drive to hear how his latest projects were going. Dad became an expert carpenter in his retirement. He made literally hundreds of kids’ toys (see pics) including countless dolls houses, wooden benches, pull-along hens, whole suites of wooden toys for the kids play areas and even a wooden car here driven by his dog Sally (centre pic). He never charged a penny and if given money it would go straight to charity.
1989-1991 GRANDAD DOGGY As we all know everyone gets old and dies. After two years of us living in 60 Field Lane, I got a great offer to work as a scientist in Cancer Research UK in London. I was then 25, and a Lecturer in Biochemistry at Liverpool Polytechnic (now John Moore’s University). It was sooooooo hard to leave as Dad was now alone after Mum had died a few weeks after our wedding in September 1984. He wasn’t happy about me going, but in the end, I explained that being a scientist meant full time research. So, after turning it down once and then re-accepting, we upped sticks and moved to St Albans (where our first daughter Becky was born). I made it my business for Dad to see little Becky grow up; there is a family video of Becky endlessly running backwards and forwards to say goodbye (pic). She called him "Grandad Doggy" - because of Sally, his dog in pic. Our other daughter Katie was born in Leicester in 1990 and was affectionately known by dad as "KK" (pic).
1991 DAD'S DEATH I was working in my heart research lab in Leicester University one morning when I looked to the side and saw a policeman along with the famous Sir Alec Jeffreys (who invented Genetic Fingerprinting - I worked in the same labs). I had a sinking feeling as we went in my office (my first assumption was something bad had happened to Paula or the Kids). When the policeman announced it was my Dad, I was of course upset but also strangely relieved. He had been suffering very bad lifestyle illnesses in the run up and I feared a very long slow decline. He had gone the way he ALWAYS told me he wanted to go - out like a light, "when I snuff it, I want it to be quick" he said. The GP had phoned Sir Alec because dad had been telling him I worked with him. This is a favourite pic of mine with Dad on our Wedding Day at St. Philips Church, Sept 14 1984.
2022 POSTSCRIPT: LETTER TO DAD ON FATHER'S DAY Dear Dad On this Father's Day I remember you Ted Sparks, my mentor, life coach, hail feller well met and kind dad. You took me to Aintree to see Piggott and Arkle. You were a smart cookie - cruelly denied an education but a turned out to be a huge real-life problem solver. Oh! and a crossword king! (you'd do the Times or "The Stinker" crossword in a matter of minutes). You never moved much out of Litherland, dad but like George Harrison said, "without going out of your door, you can know all things on Earth". You were dreadfully old-fashioned (in a nice kind of way), taught me an awful lot, invented so much, bought me my cameras, films, books, casey balls, ancient radiograms from the saleroom, sat through the Apollo landings with me all night, told me all you could about the moon. You later made all my lab kit and all hundreds of kid’s wooden toys. You always called your wife "sweetheart". You were a sentimental old Irish sausage with your renditions of "Old Shep", "The Fields of Athenry" and Burl Ives songs on the mouth organ. I inherited your favourite George Formby, Laurel and Hardy, and Will Hay films. Today, I can’t get rid of your old tools (although they are rusty as hell) as so many memories are tied up in them. You were such a good man, who loved his family and never let us down. I know St. Peter let you in, no problem, so hope to see you and mum soon. I remember all your sayings and there were thousands of them. Two you used to say - "you live on in your offspring" and "you are a long time dead" - both are true. I love you, Da, like many other boys I could never say that in life. If I get to heaven, I'll tap you on the shoulder and you can say "Hello Wack" again. Your Loving Son Ed

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