Rev Ron Lloyd
Bill Taylor
Alec Chisholm Jones
Elizabeth (Liz) Margaret Welch
Amanda Monique Nixon nee Wilford
Joe Edwards
Barbara Gianni
Dorothy ‘Peggy’ Margaret Tidsall
Frederick Thomas Alexander
Bob Cross
Rowland Peace
Rev Ron Lloyd
7th January 1932 to 29th May 2026
Ron grew up in the Gower in South Wales in a small village whose principal occupation was cockle fishing for the women in shallow waters and rural work for the men. Ron’s father was a wheelwright and Ron could give a detailed description of the making of a wheel for a cart using different woods – elm for the hub, oak for the spokes and ash for the rim, all of which had different properties. Elm did not split, oak was strong and ash could be bent.
Ron’s father was a great storyteller and could often be found in the local pub in a corner by the fire holding forth for hours while enjoying a couple of pints. Ron inherited the talent for storytelling, which he used to great effect in the pulpit and he also inherited a fondness for beer and whisky, which he invariably had before retiring to bed. Ron did well at school and went to Lampeter College where he studied for the priesthood, played rugby at a high level and then took a curacy in Swansea before gaining his first parish in the Vale of Evesham. He had met and married Hazel and they had three children, two of whom sadly predeceased them both. He then went to the Dragon School as chaplain and teacher before moving to Christ Church as precentor.
He was offered the Benefice of eight churches in the Shill Valley in 1987, which quickly mushroomed to 12. His Welsh lilt, tied to stories for every occasion, made him popular for weddings and funerals alike, as well as taking regular services and visiting parishioners throughout the Benefice. Hazel died some years ago when they were living in Bampton, and Catherine, their daughter, took on the role of devoted carer for Ron. There was much more to Ron as a family man and a friend to all he met, which you will hear at the service his family are arranging in St Mary’s Bampton on Monday 6th July at 2:30 pm.
Bill Taylor
27th May 2026
Obituary to follow.
Alec Chisholm Jones
October 1944 to 14th March 2026
Alec Chisholm Jones was born in Bridlington in October 1944 and was the only child of Muriel and Charles. His mother was Scottish, hence the middle name, which was shortened to the nickname ‘Chiz’ by his family. An idyllic childhood followed in what Alec always called ‘the posh end of Hull’ – A relative term, but Cottingham is pretty leafy to be fair. They must have been fairly well-to-do as they had the first TV in their street, which Alec was keen to mention in a tongue-in-cheek kind of way, never one to attach any importance to status symbols. Unlike today it wasn’t all about screen time though, as Alec and his best pal Phil Gate played endless games of football out in the street. He was so happy to be reunited with Phil later in life and they wrote often.
Post -war life was tough in a lot of ways with a father who was much changed by his experiences of war in the gunner’s seat of an RAF bomber. Alec got his first taste of a banana aged 11, so things were scarce for a long while post-war. He grew up with aunties, uncles and cousins local to the area as well as the Greensides and Iveson families who were lifelong friends and remain so a couple of generations later.
He was mentioned in dispatches during his school life, but only in sporting terms, with some significant contributions on the football and cricket pitches of Hymer’s College. Apart from that he left school with O level Maths.
Not from an agricultural family, it’s unclear where his interest came from, but he always had focus and a clear pathway of where he wanted to go. He continued his education at Bishop Burton Agricultural College, where he was lucky enough to meet his future wife Jane, the iconoclastic motorcycle-riding lone girl on the agricultural course. As a trailblazer herself (all other women at the college in that era were on the secretarial course) they clearly hit it off and carried on lives less ordinary for decades to come.
Alec was a prolific starter of businesses, some successful, others less so, but he was never going to die wondering. His first was a great success with the setting up of Cook & Jones Agricultural Contracting straight out of college with his good pal Tony Cook. These were exciting times when it seems the young contractors worked hard but played pretty hard as well. Alec lived in Burstwick during his late teens and into his twenties as his mother’s cancer spread and she was increasingly confined to hospital in Hull. Bill and Gill Richardson were his hosts; loving and patient parent figures who kept him grounded. While the contracting business was a big success, the wider planet called. Having lost his father at 15, when his mother died in his early 20s, Alec took that as a cue to go and see foreign climes.
Another good pal of Alec’s, Ted Stamford, turned up at the Nancy pub ( Cook & Jones Head Office) in Burton Pidsea one evening to find no Alec, only Tony; unheard of. ‘Where’s Jonesey’ ? ‘He’s sold his half of the business to me and taken a load of sheep to China on a cargo ship !’, replied Cooky. And he had. What followed was the first of many global adventures. He took charge of his flock of live sheep for the British Livestock Commission on the MV Pembrokeshire and cared for them all the way to Yokohama in Japan, where some of the flock reached their destination. The rest were transhipped on to an Australian vessel, the Eastern Moon, bound for Shanghai.
They steamed straight into the turmoil of the Cultural Revolution and Alec spent the next three months effectively a hostage of Chairman Mao aboard the Eastern Moon. He was allowed ashore once a fortnight to register his continued presence with the diplomatic mission and procure food and bedding for his remaining flock. He described being followed down the docks on these excursions by hundreds of locals who had never seen a 6-footer before, let alone one with a big beard. Finally free to leave, complete with a copy of Mao’s Little Red Book, he somehow ended up in Macao and sought to resume his original plan, which was to finish his contract with the sheep, and join Jane in Africa where she had headed to do some nursing and travelling after finishing college.
Alec found a French cruise liner going from Macao to Durban and got a Third-Class ticket in steerage. It was very inspiring to hear his stories and how he bought a copy of the Beatles’ Sgt Pepper’s before the trip and listening to Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds with a sundowner, steaming across the Indian Ocean with a pod of whales swimming alongside the boat. Reunited with Jane in Africa, they travelled and explored for a while, sleeping underneath Land Rovers out in the bush to stay safe from the lions and hyenas. They eventually headed home to the UK but were not back home for long.
Having settled in Oxfordshire, the next 15 years of his career were spent at the Pig Improvement Company (PIC), a pig breeding business which he helped make a huge global success story. When PIC mooted its first venture outside the UK and asked who wanted to go and set up a pig breeding unit in Normandy, France, the 24-yr-old Alec, who didn’t speak a word of French, was the one who stuck his hand up. Moving into the Soleil d’Or Hotel in Montfort-Sur-Risle, Alec spent six months getting the pig unit built and a house for him to live in at Le Theillement just outside Boissey-Le Chatel. He also found himself a rugby club. There’s always a rugby club.
As he had upon arrival in Oxfordshire where a PIC colleague took him up to Stow-on-the-Wold RFC, Alec found his way to the newly formed Rugby Club Pont-Audemer (RCPA) upon arrival in France. Both these clubs would be a lifelong passion, as was Pocklington RFC in Yorkshire whom he never lost touch with. The other thing he found early on in France was Gitanes cigarettes. Bizarrely, having discovered nicotine at Bishop Burton, he doubled down in France and started smoking the strongest black tobacco unfiltered cigarettes known to humanity. He would finally kick the habit 45 years later. Jane joined Alec in France once he’d got set up. Colleague, friend and rugby comrade-in-arms Jeff Gage lived with them for a time in Le Theillement as the piggery took shape and developed. Jeff was Best Man when Alec and Jane got married in June 1969 in Black Bourton church no less. Not the most orthodox wedding ever to take place in St Mary’s as Tim Slater of Pocklington RFC played Scott Joplin’s ‘The Entertainer’ on the church organ whilst the bride exercised her prerogative to be a few minutes late.
Charlie came along in July 1970 and was nearly born in France. However, they made it home on the boat and, as Yorkshire fundamentalists, drove up to Sheffield so that he could be born in Yorkshire. The French foray continued until 1972 when Will arrived as No2 son, and they moved the family back to the UK safe in the knowledge that Alec had made a huge success of the pig unit, which helped PIC springboard to being a global company. Alec’s return to PIC HQ in Oxfordshire saw him take on a variety of challenges within the company, including passing his HGV test. He was now office-based but proudly hands-on and loved getting into the blood and guts of the job.
You can’t keep a good man down, unless he breaks his neck, which Alec promptly did on the rugby field in March 1973. Charlie not yet 3 and Will still crawling, Jane had a husband with his head in a vice for three months in Radcliffe Infirmary in Oxford. Tough times. Alec’s prognosis was not good; he was given a 1/15 chance of walking again. But he did of course, made a pretty much full recovery and played rugby to the age of 50. Stubborn doesn’t even come close.
Such times are when sporting camaraderie comes to your rescue. Lying with his head clamped in the old Radcliffe Infirmary in downtown Oxford, the RCPA boys paid him a visit whilst over on tour at Stow, and someone pulled out the inevitable bottle of Calvados, the apple brandy for which Normandy is famous, and they all had a ‘trou Normand’ ( literally a Norman hole made by the spirit burning thru your food), and no doubt another, repeat. Alec’s RCPA teammates left him another tot of Calva when they said au revoir and when he woke up in the morning, it had burned through the bottom of the paper cup.
Cricket was also a lifelong passion which fed his sporting addictions in the summer months when rugby took a pause for breath, and one of Will’s earliest memories is of Alec hitting a six so massive while batting in the PIC office v farm annual cricket match at Kingston Bagpuize that it landed way off in the depths of the barley field next door. This guy was Superman. He’d been bought his first cricket bat by his father aged 9 on a birthday trip to the Gunn & Moore factory and was hooked immediately.
The years 1972-79 between the two French residencies were busy in good ways and bad. Alec’s career at PIC was going well. Global travel beckoned again and he took in a world tour of PIC breeding units, taking in SE Asia, Australia and the US amongst others. The kids thought it was impossibly glamourous and tracked his progress on the map. Another positive was that Alec and Jane bought Chapel Cottage, Black Bourton which remained their home for the remainder of their 56 years of marriage. It was uninhabitable upon purchase so a big project for a young couple with two young children. The big negative of that time was the loss of Jane’s older sister Liz and her husband Hugh in a car accident in 1971 when Tom was just 9 months old and, luckily, not in the car with them. Alec was one of several role models in the family who helped steer Tom through childhood after the loss of his parents.
1979, and Alec’s skills were needed in France again, where the now hugely expanded French operation had gone Europe-wide. Alec’s fluent French acquired first time round (albeit with a Yorkshire delivery) was needed by PIC. Jane very bravely agreed to another French residency, this time in Brittany, which lasted from 1979 – 82. Alec was a workaholic during this period and spent a lot of time away all over Europe. He somehow still found time to feed his oval addictions though, playing for Grandchamp down by the Atlantic coast and later helped found a new club in Loudeac, our nearest town. His poor form with communist regimes continued however, and he was hauled off the Orient Express whilst leaving the country by Bulgarian Secret Service agents (no, really !) He had arrived by car with PIC colleague and old friend Richard Melville but left by train after they’d finished the business element of the trip as Richard was staying in Bulgaria with the car to help his wife’s family move house. The secret service interviewed Alec about the whereabouts of the car and his passenger.
Professionally, the second stint in France seemed difficult as the business had encountered a lot of problems since 1972. For Jane it was difficult in other ways with a husband away a lot and being away from family back home, who visited as much as they could. For the boys it was a great time and Tom was also over in the school holidays. By the time the Joneses moved home in 1982, PIC’s European operations were back on track, but PIC had been bought by Dalgety Spillers and Alec was looking to work for himself again. The result was what at the time, was the biggest outdoor pig unit in the south of England.
Alec devised the cartwheel system which allowed for much easier movement of animals within the unit, something which has to be done a lot with pigs. This is still used around the country and beyond, a former PIC colleague wrote a book about it, and Alec started a consultancy business in tandem with running his own unit to advise farmers across the UK looking to diversify. In a pre-electronic age, he kept meticulous, neat husbandry records, all written by hand, in ledgers that were to be repeated over the years in his benevolent roles as fixture secretary of Stow RFC, Faringdon CC, the Black Bourton Village Association (BBVA) and the oil buying collective he started in the early noughties.
Alec kept a lot of plates spinning during the 80s and 90s. He ran his farm and consultancy, he threw himself in to village life as an enthusiastic member of the BBVA, played sport on the weekends and was an active parent. Add to this his Friday ‘run’ around the Cotswolds delivering butchered whole and half pigs ready for the freezer, and he made the best use of his time for sure. An extension was built on to Chapel Cottage in the late 80’s which became known as the ‘nerve centre’. Alec spent many evenings holed up in there after dinner making countless phone calls to arrange sporting fixtures and organise village events, smoking a lot of fags in the process. There was a permanent haze and blue cloud akin to a 1930s pool hall. By this point he had taken over as Chair of the BBVA and it’s not in any way an exaggeration to say that he was not in favour of long meetings! Anyone bumping their gums for too long got politely curtailed.
By the early 90’s he was thinking of new projects as the physicality of running the farm combined with the aging process and his neck injury were taking their toll. His first venture was in to the clothing business, selling field sports clothing in France. This was going well until a business partner lost his moral compass and ripped him off. Unperturbed but struggling financially, Alec went into a variety of businesses from construction to pet food and found new channels of business for everything he touched and greatly enhanced their turnover. His efforts were not always rewarded in line with how he improved the businesses.
He again started another business of his own, this time related to his other sporting passion, the bit where you sit around drinking and eating good food and wine listening to sporting raconteurs. He launched an after-dinner speaking service with former Coventry and England centre David Duckham and a very smooth-talking man with a fake double-barrelled surname. The latter proved to fall short on the honesty front and Alec was back to square one after being ripped off again. He never gave up though, and he returned to previous skills without ever showing any professional vanity. He went for several years with hardly a day off as he was driving trucks during the week and relief milking cows on the weekend. Life was tough and it was a struggle to keep afloat financially, but Alec and Jane kept their house and spirit.
By this point his playing years were behind him, but he kept active roles at Faringdon and Stow – mowing the outfield at the former and helping in many ways at Stow, including taking on the role of offering visiting referees helpful tips from the touchline. Yorkshiremen are never wrong, after all. Alec finally retired from paid work at the age of 69 and timed it to coincide with his shoulder replacement. Like an old VW campervan, he had a few bits falling off every now and then, and he also got a new hip a few years later.
None of this slowed him down though, and he doubled down in retirement on doing things for the village and his sporting clubs. He also started another business, the Burgundy Wine Shuttle, which was more of a pastime and passion than a serious attempt at making money. Alec and his good pal Tim Slater researched the whole of the Burgundy region of France and took countless friends and customers across the channel on guided tours of Burgundy. Latterly this came in the form of day trips to the north coast for a good long lunch and the purchase of a car full of wine. As well as saving folk money on booze, the aforementioned oil buying club did the same for households all over OX18, notwithstanding the contributions made to St Mary’s church through the Community Benefit Payments from the suppliers of the oil. His collective bargaining on animal food prices saved other farmers money in the 80’s and 90’s as well as his own operation. Other pet projects latterly included the apple pressing events the BBVA hosted.
Alec was very invested in his family and friends, many of whom he considered family even if they weren’t biological family. He was a loving (Yorkshire-style) husband, father, grandfather, uncle and godfather. Alec was overjoyed to become a grandfather. Arlo and Astrid loved their time with Grandpa Chizzywig as Astrid re-branded him. He encouraged them to pursue their dreams and ambitions and hopefully his proactive positivity will be passed on to them. He was an incredibly loyal friend to many and a lifelong liberal who’s progressive thinking and open-mindedness resulted in him experiencing so much of what the planet has to offer.
He had no belief system but believed strongly in humanity and that we’re all born equal.
Alec put in a good shift by any measure, and he will be missed by a lot of people.
Elizabeth (Liz) Margaret Welch
1st September 1940 to 2nd November 2025
THE TRIP OF A LIFETIME
So now that it’s over, where do I begin?
All I really want to do is just give Ma a ring.
Actually, that’s not such a bad idea, you know.
Bear with me a sec, let’s give it a go?
Hello? Ma? It’s Will, can you hear me ok?
Is now a good time? I’ve got something to say.
For this journey of yours I thought I’d do a little rhyme,
I was thinking of calling it “The Trip of a Lifetime.”
A collection of reflections, of memories and laughs;
An album, if you will, of verbal photographs.
So how’s the trip going? The journey’s not too rough?
That’s great! Good to know. Everyone here sends their love.
What? Oh, EVERYONE! Everyone’s here.
All your family, your friends; your near and dear.
Yeah, Ma, you’d love it! This is your kind of do:
A room full of people that care about you.
And you’d love it especially, I hardly need mention,
Because today you are certainly the centre of attention
Well, if I’m going to do a poem, there must be one verse on
How you’re such a sociable and friendly people person.
To my friends and Sarah’s your convivial genially
Is the epitome of your generous, welcoming hospitality.
Yeah, I recognise many faces, some from when I was small,
Others, more awkwardly, I don’t really know at all.
But I’m sure that you’ll have told me about them in the past:
How you met and what was said when you saw them last.
Because, let’s face it, Ma, you love a good chat!
I don’t think anyone here is going to argue with that.
You’re a fully paid up member, a pillar of the community,
Spreading love and warmth and friendship at every opportunity.
You are! You’re friends with everyone, well, that’s what they claim!
Wherever I seem to go in life it’s always been the same:
“Oh, you’re Liz’s son! She’s such a dear friend?”
I don’t see her often enough, but I love the time we spend!”
There are members of the clubs and societies you were part of,
Some of which, of course, you were there at the start of!
Antiques, ballet, fine art, the Clematis Society,
Music, history, horticulture – such a rich variety!
Lenthall Concerts, NADFAS, the Kelmscott volunteers;
The culmination of cultural curation cultivated over years.
You make friends so easily, with everyone you’ve met
And whilst you take joy recalling them, it’s you they won’t forget.
And people’s sympathy’s been so tender, their anecdotes so nice:
Saying how they’ll miss your laughter and your gardening advice!
Well, that’s what you’re known for! With your easy, chatty way,
And your sincere, enduring interest in what others have to say.
And if they ask politely (sometimes even when they don’t)
You might enrich their understanding with some opinions of your own!
You freely share your depth of knowledge. You’re a true altruist.
No, don’t dismiss it, missis, you’ll be massively missed!
Well, I don’t think you can turn back now! Ma, don’t feel scared or sad,
Just treat it like any of the other adventures that you’ve had.
Like sailing, as a debutante, to Canada on a freighter,
And going back again, by plane, three decades later.
Or your travels to New Zealand, South Africa, Australia.
Or skiing! What? Not skiing? You’re right, that one was a failure!
But most recent, most daring, most deserving of applause:
Your cruise last year with Tabba round the Norwegian Fjords.
You often say you’re anxious whatever place you’re headed for
But, Ma, you have more courage than you give yourself credit for.
And if you cast your mind back I bet you didn’t stress or panic
About holidaying with your family in a tiny hut in Sandwick!
From London to the Lake District Noel and Peggie brought ya,
With Julie, Nic and Crispin to a corner of Ullswater
Where you’d sleep under canvas and wash in the beck,
Swim and sail on the lake, then over fells you’d trek!
Was it there your love of the Natural World first began to harden
Blossoming into a life-long love for all things floral and garden?
Or have you got some sort of botanical Tweddell gene:
A horticultural hand-me-down that made your fingers green?
You know what each plant needs, from the leaf-tip to the root.
You are a marvel of the blooms, my dear, and blooming marvellous to boot.
You want to send a pic? Yeah, sure, if you’re allowed.
No, I doubt you have instant internet just because you’re in the cloud.
Why don’t you write me an update of your latest little outing?
But if you STRESS EVERYTHING with CAPITAL LETTERS it just READS LIKE you’re
SHOUTING!
Where am I? In the church. I know it’s a place you adored;
With the murals you strived so long and hard to have lovingly restored.
Well, Sarah and I agreed it was most apt of all locations
Given your years as Church Warden here and countless floral decorations.
Yes, of course there are flowers! Christine’s done you proud!
They are joyous, just like you, Ma. (And just a little loud.)
I don’t know. Pink ones? With leaves? Look, Ma, it’s a fitting memorial!
Anyway, you’ve hung up your secateurs now, so stop being territorial.
Give Toby and Julie a hug from me, you’ll soon have Dad beside you.
I know how much in the last twenty years you’ve missed him there to guide you.
Of course you’ll recognise each other! Ma, are you having a laugh?!
Just look for the only angel with the bright blue moustache!
Hello? Are you still there? Did you just hear a noise?
I think the line’s breaking up, or perhaps it’s just my voice.
Yes, of course I’m fine, I don’t know what you’re on about?
No, not really tears, just my love for you leaking out.
I’d better let you go now, Ma, I’ve kept you for too long.
I love you, Ma. Recall you often. I’ll talk to you anon.
Amanda Monique Nixon nee Wilford
11th November 1958 to Sunday 9th March 2025
Mandy was born on the 11th November 1958 in Nicosia, Cyprus where her parents were stationed in the RAF, but the family returned to the UK within a few months of Mandy’s birth, to live in Carterton.
Following nursery and primary schools Mandy was educated at a private boarding school in west Sussex, before attending a 2 year secretarial college in Banbury Road Oxford.
Mandy became friends with Dave’s sister Carol, who introduced her to Dave in 1982. Dave and Mandy then set up a home together in Staffordshire in 1985. In 1991, Dave started working on an engineering contract in London they lived in a company house in Barking and were married in 1996 by Ron Lloyd at Shilton Church.
They purchased Holly Cottage in 1997, but at first, only lived as weekenders until they had finished modernising and extending the house.
Mandy worked in several management positions in Witney and Oxford and eventually back in Carterton, before retiring in 2013. Happily, they then travelled together extensively to many parts of the world, including North and South America, Middle East and SE Asia following the many different contracts that Dave was involved in, often spending several weeks at a time away from home.
Tragically, the first signs of Mandy’s illness first occurred only a few months after her retirement.
In retrospect, Dave could detect differences in Mandy’s manner and behaviour, but as we now appreciate the illness has many different forms and rates of decline. Mandy’s decline was slow and Dave was able to look after Mandy, lovingly at home until her death. Not many men would have been capable of such an achievement. All his friends in the village and further afield have admired the way Dave has managed Mandy’s illness these last few years.
Mandy loved the village of Black Bourton, she will long be remembered striding out with her dogs along Burford Road and along many of the footpaths.
Mandy’s funeral will be on Thursday 17th April at 12 midday in St Mary’s Church, Black Bourton, where Mandy will be interred in the graveyard.
All are welcome to attend the church service and afterwards at the Vines. There will be additional parking in the paddock should it be necessary.
Any donations in Mandy’s memory will be made to Young Dementia UK.
Joe Edwards
1945 to 16th January 2025
Very sadly, Joe Edwards, engineer and vintner, one of the great characters of our village died on Thursday 16th January and was cremated in a private ceremony.
Joe was born at 1 Elmwood Road, Carterton in a house that was half way across what is now RAF Brize Norton, before the runway was lengthened to accommodate American planes.
Joe’s Father was a civilian Air Ministry Police Constable and he attended Brize Norton school until the family moved house to Clanfield, when Joe was 11 years old and he then went to Burford Grammar School. On leaving school he joined Crawford Collets as an apprentice electrician and married Jackie in 1967, before he joined the family hydraulics business in Witney.
He purchased his first piece of land at The Vineyard in 1986 when the first vines were planted. He then bought two more plots extending the land to 8 acres. Joe and Jackie moved permanently onto the farm in 1995, and sold not only wine but a variety of items from vine stock, to chicken and duck eggs, a variety of vegetables, asparagus and of course sweet eating grapes. Their wine was available on the menu at the Poachers Rest in Bampton, The Horse and Groom in Black Bourton and at the Blenheim Palace shop.
Joe was not a fan of the Common Market and in 2005 closed down the wine business, after licencing law changes were imposed.
Joe, who spent his whole life locally, will be sadly missed by all who knew him and the village sends its sincere condolences to Jackie. Recently, many friends and villagers met at The Vines to raise a glass and discuss all their memories.
Barbara Gianni
25th February 1929 to 19th July 2021
Barbara Gianni was born in Italy on the 25th February 1929 and died peacefully on the 19th July. “Our” Italian family have lived in Black Bourton for 57 years. Barbara the widow of Lido who were both very well known in the local villages, through their various businesses of landscape gardening and maintenance, to selling fruit, vegetables, chicken and duck eggs, logs for wood burners and tree bark mulches, not forgetting a variety of wines and ciders.
Back in the early 60’s Lido answered an advertisement in some Italian papers placed by Frank Stewart-Wood’s father to attract horticultural and mushroom experts to West Oxon. Lido came on his own initially, took a liking to the area and enjoyed working at the mushroom farm, so he returned to Italy to bring Barbara and their sons Ibridi and Claudio to Black Bourton. Lido and Barbara proved to be entrepreneurs. Lido formed a landscaping and horticulture partnership with Mr Tilley at the American School in Alvescot and Barbara also worked at the school.
They lived in one of the Model Cottage for many years, until about 30 years ago when Lido and Barbara acquired the land at ‘The Yellow Gate Farm’ on Alvescot Road and a short time later achieved a life long ambition to build their own house on the farm, which the boys have developed into a thriving market garden business and farm shop, all the time well supported by Barbara, especially since the death of Lido in 2003. The boys have continued the work and nothing has given Barbara greater pleasure than the arrival of Luca, Claudio and Bonnie’s son. We hope to see them all at their stall at the Village Fete.
Dorothy ‘Peggy’ Margaret Tidsall
30th April 1926 to 28th January 2021
We learnt the news at the end of January that one of our past residents in the village, Peggy Tidsall had died in Solihull at the age of 94. She was buried in our churchyard on 11th February with her husband and alongside her daughter Carolyn.
Peggy was born in Birmingham in 1926 where she grew up with two half brothers. After she left school she went to work in her father’s shop and then subsequently decided she would like to work as a nursery nurse. She met her husband to be, Geoffrey, on a coach trip whilst they were both on holiday and eventually when retirement approached, they decided to look for somewhere to live near Geoff’s parents who had moved to Ducklington.
Hence the Tidsall family arrived at Clack’s Cottage in the mid 1970’s and very quickly became involved in village life. Peggy was active on the ‘Signpost’ helping with the organising and delivering of the magazine around the village every month. She was also a member of the BBVA (husband Geoff was the treasurer) helping to set up the fetes and coffee mornings and baking cakes for all these events. Needless to say the church was not forgotten and benefited from her considerable creative skills beautifully displayed in her flower arranging. Indeed, her next door neighbour at the time will always remember Peggy standing in her cottage garden surrounded by flowers. She will always be remembered for her gentle nature, goodness and kindness, always at hand to help when needed and a hugely respected member of the village community.
In latter years Peggy looked after her sister-in-law who still lived in Ducklington and in August 2007 after her sister-in-law’s death Peggy moved into the family bungalow before finally going back to Solihull and daughter Jackie. She has another daughter Elizabeth and a son Richard.
Frederick Thomas Alexander
28th April 1925 – 20th October 2020
Our friend Fred was born in Tadworth Surrey in April 1925 to Fred and Ada. Fred senior was invalided out of the Met. Police after injury and moved to Black Bourton and built a house “Holbeche” on Alvescot Road.
Freds’ senior and junior ran the Carterton Egg Packing station until young Fred was called up in 1942 and served in Burma from 1944 to 46. Fortunately, he avoided falling into the hands of the Japanese. He met Margaret in 1947 and they married in Witney and would have been married for 73 years this November. They have two daughters Janet and Sue, two granddaughters and four great grandchildren.
Both Fred and Margaret were always great “community helpers”, how much we need such help at the moment, but they did it throughout their lives.
Margaret helped Nora Fookes with school dinners at Alvescot and Fred, drove vehicles, mainly milk tankers, buses, lorries and a mobile shop belonging to the Alvescot shop and post office. The children of our village would line up at the mobile shop to buy sweets on a Saturday afternoon! Fred enjoyed commenting about present day lorry driving and the hours allowed to work. He would take a bus load of tourists from Witney to Blackpool for a day trip (before any motorways), setting off at 4.00 a.m and returning well after midnight, as the only driver !
After retirement, Fred would become well known and greatly respected, while helping many villagers with their gardening, tending the graveyard and locking up the church in the evening. He was an “outdoorsman” and a lover of wildlife, he knew all the birds by their songs and the names of all plants and shrubs.
One of Fred’s main social interests was attending the annual Burma Star Reunion dinners in London, with several local friends, where the star guest would often be Vera Lynn. Some older residents will remember Fred driving his beautiful old vintage Rover 90 saloon car around the area.
Fred’s dry sense of humour, his unfailing gentlemanly behaviour and his “good neighbourliness” will be much missed. Margaret will continue to live in Church Close and welcomes visits from their friends.
Bob Cross
4th August 1930 – 26th April 2020
Robert ‘Bob’ Cross was born in Buckinghamshire in August 1930. He grew up at Yew Tree Farm in Ludgershall the family farm, along with his three brothers and sister Mary.
The family worked hard during the war years on the land and afterwards Bob qualified as a draughtsman and worked in Bicester, but office work did not suit Bob and he eventually worked as head herdsman for Lord Bicester on the Tusmore Estate.
It was during this time that Bob met Iris his wife and they married in 1959 in Aylesbury. Sandy and David were born a few years later. Bob and Iris’s dream was to have their own farm and after careful saving they managed it in 1966 and moved to The Willows at the end of Mill Lane in Black Bourton, where Martyn, their third child was born.
Bob worked very long hours for two local farmers before starting his own pig breeding farm, where he worked even longer hours! The family enjoyed their animals, which eventually included, in addition to the pigs, hens, sheep, ducks and Cindy the terrier ! With the help of the family they survived two national foot and mouth outbreaks and some difficult farming years.
Bob and Iris were a much respected and well known couple. Bob was a member of the BBVA for many years, played in the Horse and Groom (The Vines) darts team, was a champion hedge layer, surrounded the farm with dry stone walling – all his own work – would support the Old Berkshire Hunt and enjoy a stirrup cup or two with the huntsmen, before following the day on foot.
Bob and Iris decided to retire in 1997 and moved to Clanfield and enjoyed the ‘extra’ free time holidaying with the family, but were frequently seen returning to BB to visit friends and join the luncheon club outings. After Iris’s death in 2011 Bob bought a retirement apartment at Blenheim Heights in Witney.
Bob was a true gentleman, was very sociable, a man of many talents, loved reciting his poetry, singing, amateur dramatics and when playing golf with David and Martyn at Carswell achieved a famous “hole in one”.
The sight of Bob driving through the village with his famous “grey Fergie” tractor with the terrier in the trailer behind, will be very sadly missed.
Rowland Peace
8th October 1919 – 20th April 2020
Rowland Peace died on 20th April this year at 100 years old. Born in the south Yorkshire mining village of Maltby. At the age of fourteen Rowland went to work in the local pit alongside his father and brothers. He was a member of the St. John’s Ambulance Brigade and helped with many injuries and fatalities, that happened regularly. He was quickly promoted to “deputy” but volunteered at the outbreak of WW2, but was soon repatriated back to the mines to help with the war effort as one of Bevin’s Boys. At the end of the war he married his wife Olive and they had a daughter Elizabeth, who came to live in Black Bourton years later.
Rowland was a unique chap, self educated he would rattle off the Telegraph cryptic crossword in ten minutes and had a love of poetry. He would recite from memory a huge repertoire to his listeners. With a droll sense of humour, he would tell of his time in the pit, but generally not a happy one as he had dreamt of being a medical doctor, but never had the opportunity. He would tell of his colleague Harold Trueman, father of Fred (Yorkshire and England cricketer). Fred only worked for one winter at Maltby, because he would leave to play cricket in the spring. Eventually, an autobiography of Fred appeared. Rowland noted that the book related “Harold was very modest about Fred’s achievements and rarely mentioned him”. Rowland remembered it differently … “very modest … he never stopped bragging about him”!
Rowland, given the chance, could have become a doctor, such was life. In later years he built a self-contained bungalow in the garden of Elizabeth’s house. He was a lovely man and delighted in his garden and greenhouse , he would say “I’m in God’s pocket”
A family man, he loved his daughter, grandson and grandchildren and even in his final months at The Homestead in Carterton, where he was wonderfully well looked after and received visits almost every day, he was always asking after family members and friends in the village.
Elizabeth remarked, “this loving blunt opinionated outspoken Yorkshireman, was befriended by many in the village and we are eternally grateful to all who took their time to spend it with Rowland. He lived a good life, doing tough work, was kind and caring, he was honest and proud and he will be remembered by all who knew him.”