Brian Martell 1938-2026. A slightly revised version of what I said at my dad's funeral.
Brian was born in 1938 in Wolverhampton. He kept a trace of black country in his accent through his life. Of course, he supported Wolverhampton Wanderers, and even in his last days in hospital was asking about the Wolves scores.
In the 2nd world war his dad, Cyril, was posted to India and they were separated for Brian's early years. Dad and his Mum, Hilda, hunkered down in the Anderson shelter in the garden when German bombers flew overhead. His parents were devoted to Brian and did everything they could for him.
He passed the 11+ and went to grammar school, which he said saved him. He found religion as a teenager, much to the bemusement of his non-religious parents
Brian went to London Bible College to study Theology and was a lay preacher in London. One day while going up the stairs at LBC he came across a girl having trouble opening the door to her room. Chivalrous and gallant, he helped her with her key. That girl was Ina Speed, his future wife. I've always maintained that he tampered with the lock to engineer this meeting. And when I've put this to him he's never denied it.
Ina (or Christina), the daughter of missionaries, persuaded him to give up his religious beliefs. They married in 1960 and lived in a flat in Muswell Hill. Then the chance came to teach in Kenya, just as it was becoming independent, and they boldly took it. I was born in Nairobi. When their stint there ended they had the opportunity to teach in Zambia, again around the time of independence, and Rael was born there. I remember Brian bravely fighting a deadly spitting Cobra in the woodpile outside the house, armed only with a panga. When I discussed this with him recently he admitted taking on the snake had been an unwise decision. He made lifelong friends in Africa.
On returning to England we lived in Reading. More important friends were made there. He introduced Rael and I to Reading Football Club.
Dad got a job in charge of the sixth forms at Abbotsfield and Swakeleys schools in Hillingdon. We moved to Bourne End. Brian and Ina lived there in the same house for over 50 years.
Brian believed in the transformatory power of education. It gave him great opportunities. He studied for an MEd and MPhil at Reading University. The MEd was on religious education in the secondary school. He was well qualified to comment as head of RE at a secondary school in Reading. The MPhil was on the experience of Asian kids in secondary schools, also something he had plenty of direct knowledge of as a teacher in Reading and West London. I went to his school with him once or twice and the kids treated him as a sort of Uncle Brian, very informal and friendly.
Influenced by Benjamin Spock's book Baby and Childcare he was a liberal and permissive parent, and supportive. When I was 16 my parents came home to find me and other long haired hippies in a haze of cannabis smoke. They didn't hit the roof as many other parents would have done. They found an excuse to go out and leave us to it.
I only remember Brian giving me advice once. He advised me not to study sociology at A level. I did eventually decide to study sociology at A level. I then did a degree in sociology. I did a PhD in sociology. I became a university lecturer in sociology for 34 years. It's just as well Dad didn't make a habit of giving me advice.
Brian was a keen traveller. Him and Ina travelled to over 60 countries, sometimes with friends. Mum said that when they got back from a holiday the first thing Brian did was to start planning the next one. When I asked him about his favourite holiday location, he said it was a toss up between Ethiopia and Shropshire.
When Brian retired he was very active in the community. A clerk to the governors at one school, a governor at another. A Samaritan for many years. One of his greatest regrets was having to give up being a magistrate when he turned 70.
For decades he went daily to swim at a hotel leisure club in Burnham Beeches. The England football team stayed there before games. Brian shared a jacuzzi with Paul Gascoigne. He met Glen Hoddle in the showers. Not many people can say they've discussed the England team selection with a naked Glen Hoddle - but my dad did.
Two grandchildren came along, who he admired hugely. Later two great grandchildren.
Brian was a mild mannered, reserved man but had many friends who he kept up for decades who were very important to him. In some cases he felt a responsibility for the children of friends and family.
Mild mannered maybe, but in Poland someone accidentally entered my parents’ hotel room one night and Dad's response was to just punch them in the face. For years after we called him Biffer Brian.
He liked a pint and food. Churches. He was a voracious reader. He loved Dickens, political biographies, and there can't be a book about Henry VIII's wives he hasn't read. He loved keeping up with the news and as kids our view of him was often obscured by a newspaper. That people should be equal regardless of race, gender, or sexuality was just obvious to him.
He had TV favourites. As kids we teased him about his addiction to Coronation Street. Repair Shop. Borgen. On his last day he was watching Dragon's Den and pronouncing on the business ideas being presented.
Brian lived a very full, interesting life. But one thing stands out to me. His absolute devotion to Christina. His wife of 66 years. And her devotion equally to him.
Brian's Much Loved site
Related link: Ina's Story