Peter was born in 1929 in Mitcham to Edith and Charles Prior, the youngest of 3 children and during his early years lived near St George's Hospital, Tooting. The oldest of the children was his sister Peggy, followed by his brother John. When Dad died he was the last of the 3 children still alive. Dad's early life was clouded by the untimely death of his own dad in 1934 when he was five. As a young boy, Dad attended Lonesome Primary School in Mitcham, but WWII broke out when he was 10 and after that his education was severely interrupted. Dad was evacuated to Maidenhead where he gained new skills such as trapping rabbits, but the placement wasn't easy and he ran away back to his mum's in Mitcham and spent the rest of the war attending school when he could and otherwise roaming the streets of South London or doing things like learning how to skate at Silver Blades in Streatham.
Dad occasionally told tales of the war, how the family house was narrowly missed by a doodlebug (it hit 3 doors down) and how he and his friends used to cycle off in the direction of a bombing to see what had happened. At the end of the war, dad briefly started an apprenticeship making optical instruments before signing up for the merchant navy. For the next two years he circumnavigated the world, learning amongst other things how to be a short order chef. He would sometimes send postcards home to his mum of himself on deck or from places like Buenos Aires (under a palm tree) or Dar es Salaam (in his football kit). One of the perks of the job when he returned from New Zealand was a sack of frozen lamb pieces, which he sold door to door around the streets of Mitcham and Tooting. When he was 18 in 1947, Dad was conscripted (National Service) and spent the bulk of his time stationed at Fontainebleau near Paris, where he claimed he was known locally as 'Monsieur Blondie' on account of the fine mane of hair he had then (though sadly the hair began to desert him not long afterwards). Dad was at some point promoted to Corporal and there are quite few photographs of him in various locations around Paris displaying his 'stripe', along with other photos of him relaxing at the local lido with others from his platoon, or having a beer with a few mates. Despite all the distractions of army life, dad developed his sporting prowess in many areas, not least sprinting. He won a number of medals for running at various Combined Services sports competitions, and was also a good footballer, cricketer and tennis player.
Once demobbed, Dad got a job in the International Telecommunications division of Cable and Wireless at Electra House on the embankment at Temple Bar, at the point when it was being nationalised to become part of the GPO. Dad remained there for the rest of his working life, rising to the position of Telecommunications manager. He worked with someone called Madge, who happened to have a cousin called Doreen Harrison. A blind date was arranged under Charing Cross clocktower. According to dad, he walked past three times before finally going up and introducing himself to Doreen. Mum and Dad got married in 1953, when Dad was 24. I was born in 1954 so my first direct memories of dad were from that point on, though understandably somewhat fragmented in the early years. In 1956 my sister Jane was born. At that time were were all living in a 2 room flat in South Croydon. Both dad's brother (John, by then married to Anne) and sister (Peggy, married to Len and by then with four of her own children Barry, Rodney, Brian and Mary) both lived a stone's throw away in nearby streets. When I was 5, Dad and Mum somehow got the deposit together to buy a small house in Westleigh Avenue, Chipstead Valley, beginning Dad's lifelong links living in and around the Coulsdon area. Now we had a garden where dad could have a vegetable patch, and we could go off on endless long walks and cycling trips into the downs, only a short distance away. In 1963, following the famous winter during which dad spent most of his time shovelling snow, Tim was born. Family holidays were often in places like Camber Sands, Christchurch and Felixstowe (staying with Mum's aunt Maud and family, the Rings), but after a while, dad purchased an old Ford Popular (one that still needed to be crank started) and after failing his test a few times, we started to go further afield, to places like Box Hill and Brighton for day trips, and on holiday to exotic locations such as Dorset, Devon and Cornwall.
When I was very little, Dad used to take me to see Tooting and Mitcham FC play, but by the time Tim was born we were firm Crystal Palace supporters, something that Tim also inherited and so we have dad thank for the lifetime of stress and despair that this has caused us (apart from the odd moment of extreme joy including a couple of Wembley play off finals!).
We all went to school in Coulsdon and Purley and after a while we moved to a somewhat bigger house in Portnall's Rise round the corner. We went on our first holiday abroad (to France), dad coached a Tim's football team at Chipstead Football Club and we lived a suburban life until I left home in 1972 to go to university (Aberystwyth). Subsequently Jane left to begin a career in Nursing (Kingston) and then Tim too left for University (Bradford). Sadly mum and dad's relationship went through some difficult times and they split up.
Dad was made redundant in the first big round of public sector redundancies in the early 80's. When we were younger, we had loved visiting his office, seeing the morse code ticker tapes clattering away (dad was an expert morse coder), going off at lunch time for fish and chips in Leicester Square and on a couple of occasions watching the Lord Mayor's procession go past from the upstairs windows. Dad made a lot of lifelong friends at Electra House, who he remained in touch with long after he retired at the 'Exiles' club, where he began to hone his golfing and bowling skills. Electra House was a multicultural place long before this became the norm, with people working there from around the world. One such was the West Indian poet, James Berry, who before he became well known wrote poetry 'on the side' whilst working alongside dad, telling me some years later how he and dad had both counted their hairs falling out together over the years. Others I can remember were Erwin de Souza and dad's particular friend Cedric. Dad was offered early retirement, which he took and he then spent the following 35 years enjoying the fruits of that retirement. Dad got together with his current partner (Carol) in the early 1980's. They had also worked together at Electra House.
Over the ensuing years, as we three children tried to build our own careers, lives and families (Dad now has 5 grandchildren and 4 great grandchildren), we probably saw Dad a bit less, except at Christmas, family occasions and public holidays, and of course to see the odd Palace game. Dad, Tim and I also played the occasional game of squash (another sport dad took up and played until well into his 50s). Dad was a keen and competitive bowler, playing club and competition matches for many years until very recently at Purley Bowls Club, where he made a whole new set of friends.
In more recent years, we have seen dad more again. He often accompanied me and Tim to Brittany as we bought a house there in 2001, where he would enjoy beer, barbecues, boules and games of cribbage (dad taught us both when we were children). He loved going over on the night ferry, and however stormy, would always manage to keep his beer upright (something he learned all those years ago in the merchant navy). He loved the Brittany coast and he spent time on the beach there with grandchildren, walking along the coastal path or going cockling (something we had also done frequently over 50 years ago at Camber Sands). In the last few years, Dad wasn't able to make it over to France as he began to have a few health problems. However, he and Carol still managed to travel extensively and dad was still able to enjoy a good life.
The past year wasn't easy for dad, following a number of hip operations some other health problems emerged, and dad spent a lot of time at both St George's Tooting, near where he grew up, and at Mayday in Croydon, interspersed with spells at home with Carol. Many wonderful nurses, doctors and other medical staff cared for dad whilst he was in hospital. And despite being in hospital, dad would often call out for fish and chips with plenty of salt and vinegar, which we would bring to him. His time at home decreased over the last few months and on his last admission to Mayday in November, dad's health deteriorated further and although he put up a tremendous fight (he never wanted to stop living), his body sadly eventually gave up on the 11th November 2017 at 4.10 pm, with family members at his bedside.
Names of Children: Philip, Tim, Jane
Names of Grandchildren: Sarah, Laurence, Ellora, Indra, Cemara
Names of Great Grandchildren: Lauryn, Elliot, Isobella, Beatrice