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Appreciation For CHRISTOPHER HARVELL By Kevin Harvell

To Dad,

I have accepted the commiserations of all your friends and your relations and now it’s the right time to write my own appreciation.

My memories will never be as good as yours for the accuracy of the year, date and time.

Let’s start in Poole Park, and I mean “in”, and you snorkeling for my sunken toy boat.

The many drives to Birmingham to see Mum’s family, our family. Stopping to collect conkers in Autumn. The festive lights through the villages when we travelled at Christmas time. The excitement and anticipation of seeing everyone.

Play fights in the hall at home, with Julie; all your silly jokes, the dirty joke, “boy fell in the mud” and the bad taste joke, “….Ronnie’s fallen over…”

Teaching me to hold a cue, the hours of pool playing at The Seaview and later Friday evening snooker at the snooker club with Laker; safety play, screwing back and a little bit of side. Darts in the bedroom, 180s and dropping down for treble 19 if the 60 was blocked off. Hours of practice, the mathematics of those 3 dart finishes. Playing cards too, Pontoon and Trumps.

Golf, putting mostly, oh the family competition on those Devon holidays. Our own course in the garden, hole 1 down the steps.

Kentisbury Grange, we all loved those holidays.

Sport the tears at GB gold, Coe versus Ovett, never sure who you really preferred, maybe a bit of both in you to remember. Not sure either had velcro straps on their trainers though!

And football, from my first big game at The Dell, releasing the homing pigeons on the way to Southampton, to the Transport Cafe at Selhurst Park, you loved it there. Your adoption of the mighty Dons, that crazy gang, always the underdogs, Vinnie and Kinnear, but like you they had spirit and fight. The many frustrations of the England football team, will I see a world cup win like you did?

Watching TV with you in the 70s from cop shows to Superstars or you joining in with the singer (Andy Williams and his head too big for his body and those pastel jumpers). Moonriver. Our musical taste never really crossed over, although one Smiths track made you smile, “Some Girls Mothers Are Bigger Than Others Girls Mothers.” Saturday tea time with The Generation Game and Brucie. Nice To See You. Remember catching that rerun that last Christmas you could stay with us in London. I do.

As you often alluded to, Spike Milligan told us he was ill on his gravestone and you told me you were knackered.

So let’s end this tribute in Poole, it could be the Quay, the Haven, Baiter or the Harbour; but let’s stick to where I started and the Park. I will always be very happy you got to take Thomas on the train around the Lake. He will always remember too, his Grandad Seaside, and hopefully he will continue to show some of that sporting prowess, you also had, to make you proud of him.

Like I know you were of me and Julie.

I’ll see thee,



Added on: 13 October 2013