JAMES ALBERT CURSLEY 11 July 1930 – 4 February 2012 J I M Jim loved life, loved people, the countryside, the cities, everything he met – and, as with all lovers everyone loved him. He always had a smile, a twinkle in his eye, a laugh on his lips and a merry whistle, and never a bad word to say about anyone – truly a gentleman – and he always looked for the good and the positive: even through the dragging days of his struggle with progressive supra-nuclear palsy he never burdened others with his woes. And they were many ... Jim’s love of life, and determination to make the most of every opportunity he had, was shown even at the moment of his birth. His mother, Vi, was in a bad way and the doctor and nurse concentrated on dealing with her serious condition. Jim was laid aside in the belief he would not survive so it was with some surprise that later they found the baby was breathing – and proved lively! Typical Jim – that’s how he tended to deal with all the many would-be disasters that he met. He was not a healthy child. When he was 4 years old he caught diptheria which in those days was a disease that resulted total isolation from the family. It seems barbaric nowadays that parents were not allowed access to their sick children and the gap of 3 months while he was in hospital so altered his appearance that Vi did not recognise Jim as he walked across the yard when she had been told he could come home. He took a lot of building up after that and his Gran frequently took him off with her to Salisbury Plain where they felt he stood a better chance of regaining his strength. When WWII began Jim and his sister Jean went down to stay with their grandparents. Jim was happy there loving the freedom of the countryside, roaming around with his mates and, I believe, being spoiled rotten by his many uncles and aunts – his Gran had had a family of 9 and they were of course all older than him. “Little Jim” was much cared for. In fact the affection in which he was held surprised him when, aged 13, he was in hospital (again!) having run into a milk cart he ended up with a severely damaged mouth. He needed a lot of stitching up and in fact never lost the scars – that hurt his adolescent vanity a lot! But what surprised him was the number of people that trooped into the ward to visit him, bring him gifts “I never knew so many folk knew me”, he said. The accident had more repercussions than just a scarred lip for he developed pleurosy and then TB – another notifiable disease – and was in hospital for some 2 years ending up in a convalescent home on the Isle of Wight where part of the therapy was in the form of walks along the sea and cliffs. These walks were again giving him the freedom that he had so loved at his Gran’s and he made up his mind that he’d avoid hospitals in future. In fact throughout his life he had an instinctive negative response when faced with doctors and nurses – that made his blood pressure readings give the medics cause for alarm on many occasions! Although he had applied for an apprenticeship as a watchmaker the application took too long to process so Jim started work in 1947 as a cinema projectionist. However the hours interfered with his social life so while he loved seeing all the current ‘flics he left and joined Dunn & Co, the menswear retailer, where he found he had a flair for selling. Jim worked for the company till at 60 he retired as a Manager of the Croydon branch. He had also been the staff representative on the staff committee. That was a severe disappointment to him for despite his and his colleagues high hopes the company folded. A great shame. Jim married Muriel, his first wife, in 1953, and they had two children, Paul and Jenny. The marriage broke down in the early ‘70’s and Jim met Margaret who had two sons, Christopher and Nicholas. Jim and Margaret married in 1973 and lived contentedly in Farnborough throughout their married life. It was a very happy marriage filled with love at the outset that lasted throughout. Jim and Margaret had so much in common, enjoyed the same interests and activities and retirement did, of course, give them so much time to indulge in explorations together. Jim was above all else a family man. He was proud of, and deeply loved, the children. They must often hear his voice in their heads, remember some of his sayings, his words of advice , even now. “Never wait for a phone call” “If you haven’t got anything good to say about someone, don’t say anything at all” “Always look for the good in people” “Life is for the living” “We’re all a little bit of everyone we’ve ever known” And he had such fun with his grandchildren making the most of them before they outgrew the delights of going out with Granny and Grandad ... trips up to the Science Museum and other London venues that would interest youngsters: like the dinosaurs’ exhibition at the Natural Science Museum (where Tom was utterly entranced by the formicarium): like MOME and the Imperial War Museum – he was delighted to share his love of London with them all. He spent a lot of time in London not just visiting the many galleries but actually walking in the out-of-the-way places that offered intriguing glimpses of past splendours and future prospects. Jim proved to be a gifted artist even though he only started painting when he retired. He’d always been a fluent sketcher but was even more talented with brush and paints and his journeys around London, the countryside and, later on, Europe, all offered the stimuli he needed to produce his pictures. While Jim did experiment with abstract art his main interest was in the natural world. His love of golf and Holtye was also a source of inspiration. He started playing golf at the small Holtye course when he was in his early ‘30’s and from then on he played twice a week with almost military precision, nothing being allowed to interfere with his Sunday morning and Wednesday afternoon games. When Paul was 14 he evinced an interest in the game so Jim took him along with him and under his father’s coaching, and with his natural flair for anything sporty, Paul became a good player: and he must have thoroughly enjoyed the games with his Dad for there was little else that could get him out of bed at 7.30 am on a cold winter’s morning after a Saturday night’s gallivanting! Jim also taught his wife, Margaret, to play and they had many happy times at Holtye. He was, I suspect, a natural teacher! Jim’s interests were wide-ranging – he was a keen motorist and had in fact been the organising secretary to a motor rally club in the sixties: he really enjoyed that. He was broken-hearted when he had to give up driving because PSP made that necessary. He was an avid reader, could – and would – debate on a wide range of topics, he loved his garden and became versed in the skill and expertise of growing plants, trimming, pruning, finding suitable plants for particular conditions and so on. In this field he enjoyed the opportunities he had to visit places like Wakehurst, Wisley and and the grand estates opened up by the National Trust. Jim was diagnosed with Progressive Supra-nuclear Palsy in June 2011 but in fact, with hindsight, had been suffering from it for some three or more years. But he just got on with it, not really complaining or bemoaning his lot, not seeking sympathy. He did, however, seek company and drew great pleasure and comfort from seeing the family, spending time with them, watching the sport he could no longer play on TV: and he and Margaret just got on with the PSP taking each day as it came, getting out and about – he may have struggled getting in and out of the car but he always made it and as far as possible they went somewhere every day ... somewhere, even if it were only for a drive around the countryside Jim so loved. Jim was a gentleman – and a gentle loving man too. He gave a lot of love and was much beloved in return.