1944-2008
When we started to think about Josie's life it occurred to us that she had not one but at least three families. There was her birth family, all her relatives; then there was her Faith family, her brothers and sisters in Christ here at The Boulevard and in the area at SACRE and The Festival of Carols. I'm sure there were others. Then there was her musical family. The choirs she sang with; Haltemprice Amateur Operatic, West Hull Ladies and Priory Ladies (is that right?). The trouble with beginning such lists is that you are liable to miss people out and upset them. If you sang with Josie and we've missed you out, please come and speak to us after we get back from the crematorium. We'd love to meet you. You will know, like us, it was impossible to separate Josie and her music.
These three families were intertwined in Josie's life and we can speak about some of them though others may have things to add. Let's start with her birth family.
Josephine Swallow was born on 17th September 1944. She was the first child of Walter and Joan born into a Hull family that I have, so far, traced back to the late eighteenth century. Josie was, in fact, born a ‘Yella Belly’ but we must forgive her; after all, there was a war on.
Of our childhood I must remember Christmases; the only time of the year, except for illness, when a fire was lit in the front room at Constable Street. The traditions set then are still continued in the family. I mention this because when the family thinks of Christmas they all remember Josie's Christmas presents; always carefully thought out but to say the least, eccentric.
The other thing Chris and I remember was brought to mind when my eldest, John, went to Butlins in Skegness with his godchildren and their families. He spotted these sweets and thought, those are dad's favourite - I'll buy him some. Actually, they were Josie's favourites, so I gave them to her. She was very pleased. When we were little and were given fruit or sweets, Chris and I would very quickly finish off our share. Josie was a hoarder. Apples and oranges stayed on her dressing table till they went hard and wizened. Worse than that were the sweets that sat there for weeks taunting us. I have no doubt that would have been the fate of these flying saucers. Please take one if you like but don't take one for later, eat it now.
The Swallow children were educated at Constable Street Infant School and then the Junior School. That was Monday to Friday. We had Saturday off but on Sunday returned to education at Boulevard Baptist Church Sunday School. We were regular attendees. We even took our summer passports on holiday and went to local Sunday schools wherever we happened to be. Each year we had our reward in the books presented for a hundred percent attendance.
My sisters went on to Thoresby High School where Josie was a model pupil. Chris was often asked why she couldn't be more like her sister but that's another story. At school the girls were encouraged to have a French pen friend and Josie began a life-long correspondence and friendship with Danielle Velpry of Lille. I can speak from experience of her love of French. When we went anywhere if I was lagging she would turn and shout, ‘Dépêche-toi’.
After Secondary school Josie left home for what must have been the longest period of her life, when she went to Sunderland College of Education to learn to be a teacher. She was what would in the past have been called a ‘spinster of this parish’. She never married but she had hundreds of children. Each weekday she worked to develop the lives of the children in her class. Every Sunday she continued to work on the spiritual lives of children at Boulevard Baptist Church, giving back to the Sunday school all the things that we had received in our childhood.
When we were thinking about hymns for today, Richard, Chris's husband suggested ‘We plough the fields and scatter’. ‘But that's a harvest hymn’ we said. Josie was like the sower in Matthew's gospel. She sowed the seeds of her faith among all those she had in her care and she hoped for a harvest in the future, not necessarily of new church members but at least of young people who would share a little of her outlook on the world. After she retired, her activities in this building continued during the week with the groups she worked with like Zone 3. She filled in, with the children, many of the gaps that the National Curriculum left. The kids knitted and sewed, sang and played and spoke French.
Josie never left the family home for very long. After her retirement she shared the burden of caring for Mom and after Dad's death she continued that full time job. She did like to travel though. She'd spent a year in Australia on a teacher exchange. She cruised in the Med and the Atlantic. She went to France when she could. Her last holiday was only a few weeks ago when she cruised along the North American coast. She was telling me that when she went shopping in Canada she was waiting behind some English tourists who were struggling to make purchases. She said how surprised the shopkeeper looked when she asked for what she wanted in French. She was so clearly English but spoke his language with confidence. She was proud of that.
So far, we have looked at two families. The third began with piano lessons as a little girl. It also included singing and I remember standing at her shoulder as she played piano selections from ‘New Moon’, ‘Kismet’ and the musicals of Rodgers and Hammerstein. Very few of them had words printed on them but we knew them all by heart. The last time I saw Josie I was looking for a couple of songs to sing to our Women's fellowship in Laceby at a musical evening. I knew she would have something. She did. I shall be dedicating ‘If I loved you’ from Carousel to her and remembering those sessions in the front room at Constable Street.
All three of us sang in the Junior Church choir here at the Boulevard under the direction of Ivy Bottom. We especially remember singing ‘Pedro the Fisherman’ because Ivy wouldn't let us sing the word ‘Hell’. Josie and I went on to sing with the Hull Youth Choir and she continued to sing through her whole life. There was often a costume hanging on the back of the lounge door that Josie was in the middle of sewing. She had appeared in almost all of Gilbert and Sullivan's considerable output. She had a lovely voice but, bless her, she didn't really have the looks to be the female lead. She was always a sister or a cousin or an aunt. In later life she was able to offer for roles of the old women who reveal that the hero is really a prince, or a baby switched at birth. These roles were often contralto, but she could do that too. On her last cruise, she performed, a capella, Joyce Grenfell's wonderful song, ‘Stately As A Galleon’. I can see her doing it.
We can now reveal to all the nephews and nieces that their Auntie Josie, according to the police, died on a bus on her way home from a rock concert. There's something to remember. When they examined Josie's handbag to identify her they found this booklet and looked no further than the title. She had been at a rehearsal for a musical performance of a story about Saint Peter; he was the rock in the title. The red scarf at the bottom of her handbag was part of her costume.
Well that's about it. There's a lot more that could be said, I'm sure, but we have to be elsewhere soon. Those of you who have visited 831 Anlaby High Road may smile at this thought. John chapter 14 verse 2 states, ‘In my Father's house are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you.’ Now I have to hope that that is true. Josie has been in her Father's house for a fortnight now and I would not be at all surprised if those many people who visit her there don't already have to move something before they can sit down.
I won't say goodbye Josie. That word is so final. Better to say ‘Au revoir Josephine, A bientot’.