It is with a heavy heart that I share that my grandma passed away peacefully on July 10 at the age of 91 in Tomball, Texas, the same small town where her mother passed away 39 years earlier. Grandma lived a full and adventurous life, filled with love, and I was lucky to have her in my life for 36 years starting the day I was born. She was there for me through every major life event – gymnastics meets, graduations, my wedding – but more importantly, she was there for all the days in between. For the mundane things like changing diapers, making macaroni and cheese, and swimming in the pool. She consistently wrote me letters when I was away at college, telling me about the weather, how her garden was doing, and what was happening back home. My grandma was a second mom to me and my sister, a woman who provided a home in which I felt fully comfortable, in whom I had compete trust, and whose love I could always count on. She was truly a guiding light, a calm in every storm, and someone I will miss dearly.
Doris was born in Fulham (west London) in 1928 to Arthur Dewing (a baker) and Ellen Louise (Banton) Dewing. Her early life growing up was very typical of a young, working family in London.
However, on September 1, 1939, two days before war was declared, eleven-year-old Doris Dewing and her eight-year-old brother, Arthur, got on a train leaving London for an unknown destination. They each had a label with their name attached to them, and they each carried a single bag and their gasmask. Their parents joined a throng at the station with questions but got no answers. (There is a book written about this mass evacuation of children from the city to safeguard them from the imminent bombing, called No Time to Wave Goodbye by Ben Wicks.)
They arrived at Saunderton Lee, a small town in Buckinghamshire near Princes Risborough and were billeted with another brother and sister with the Eddles, a country farmer and his wife. There was little consideration for compatibility, and if you had room in your house for four evacuees you got four allocated to you.
Doris went to school in Princes Risborough and, after a year, she and her brother were moved to Aylesbury to a different school. At both locations they were treated well but were expected to help with the family chores. Their parents visited only occasionally for the day and most of that day was used up by the actual journey.
After about a year, with no bombs falling on London, Doris and Arthur, together with most of the evacuees, moved back home. That’s when the bombing started again and they, with their parents, slept in an “Anderson shelter” in their back garden. The city provided shelters to all who wanted them, and the Anderson shelter was the most common. It was like a small Nissen hut partially buried in the ground with sandbags on top of it. They came with four bunk beds.
One night while the family was safely in their shelter, their house received bomb damage enough for them to move into another house. All this time, Doris and Arthur were going to school. One evening Doris’ mother called them to come up onto the roof from where they could see their school burning. Doris was in the Women’s Junior Air Corp until the end of the war.
In 1944, when Doris was sixteen, she answered an advertisement in the paper and got an interview with the British Broadcasting Company, the BBC. They hired her as a teletype operator and, by taking evening classes at Regent Street Polytechnic, Doris became a shorthand typist. She gradually improved her job, which culminated in becoming the executive secretary to the administrator for the BBC Overseas Services. This department provided announcers for all European origins sending messages to the German-occupied countries of continental Europe, including coded messages to the underground resistance fighters. These messages contained the opening lines of the French poem “Chanson d’Automne” which were the signal to the resistance groups that D-Day would begin in twenty-four hours.
When the war ended on May 8, 1945, Doris went with a friend to a Victory in Europe (VE) Day dance in Putney and had the good fortune to meet Kenneth Glover, a seventeen-year-old freshman from Imperial College, which started a relationship that lasted over 73 years.
Ken and Doris were married on July 28, 1951 in Putney. Their first son, Nigel Kenneth, was born on May 20, 1954 in Fulham. The family then moved to Montreal, Canada, where their second son, Nicholas Clive, was born on July 15, 1956. A move to Connecticut saw the addition of the first American in the family, Melanie Louise, on August 24, 1958.
Subsequent moves to Atlanta dropped off Nigel as he went on to chemical engineering school in Atlanta and a move to Jacksonville left Nick in Florida as Doris (with Ken and Melanie) moved to Houston. Doris braved five changes of location in all and was always the dominating factor in getting the family settled.
Doris was the caretaker of the family, always making sure everyone was happy and fed. She enjoyed spending time in her garden, walking on the beach, dancing, and socializing with the members of her neighborhood in Champions. She was the perfect complement to Ken’s loud personality, always calm and accommodating but also quietly in control of every situation. Stylish, classy, and kind, she was loved by all who met her.
Doris was pre-deceased by her husband of 67 years, Ken, and is survived by her three children mentioned above, Nigel, Nick, and Melanie, four granddaughters, Sara Elizabeth Glover, Christine Louise Grindle, Rosalie Glover Hawkins, and Megan Elizabeth Fair, and two great-grandchildren, Colin Woodrow Grindle and Hailey Elizabeth Hawkins.
Rest in peace, Grandma. I hope that somehow you have reunited with Granddad. I know you were lost without him these past 7 months.
If you have any memories of my grandma you’d like to share, I’d love to hear from you.
But for now, I want to share my mom, Melanie Lacy’s memories. Melanie is the youngest child of Ken and Doris and the first American in the family, born in Rowayton, CT in 1958. And she is the only one to follow them all the way to Houston, making my sister and I lucky enough to be born and raised Texans! Take it away, Mom…
I feel very fortunate to have lived with or near my parents for all of my 60 years of life. My earliest family memories are of a camping trip we took across the country from Connecticut to Colorado. The highlight of this trip was turning 6 and getting a deer skin holster and a cowboy outfit for my birthday. We bought new camping equipment for the trip including a canvas tent with lots of tent poles. 
We moved to Jacksonville, Florida when I was 14, and I made some great new friends. We had a house near the St. John’s river and went out in our boat and canoe quite often. Dad enjoyed going crabbing in the late afternoon, and he and mom would take their cocktails and a snack and spend several hours in the boat. 
I was fortunate enough to have some great high school teachers that saw artistic potential in me and encouraged me to apply to Florida school of arts in Palatka. I think Dad was thrilled that I was pursuing art but also that it was a Jr. college and not too expensive. Little did he know at the time that I would go to 3 colleges before getting my bachelors degree and then go back later for my teacher certification. 
After a break from college and a move to Houston with my parents I finally finished my degree at the University of Texas. After marrying and having two children we bought a house 30 minutes from my parents. They were like second parents to my kids and were always there for us. They babysat, pet sat, took us to Destin every Summer, and provided endless fun with the backyard pool. They helped make it possible for me to keep the house after getting divorced and Dad stepped in as a second dad to my girls. He was a strong father figure and a great role model for my daughters. 
Even though there were many things we didn’t agree on I always knew I was loved. He had a hard time expressing that love until his last few years when he became very dependent on me for many things. My parents have always been there for me through many events in my life, so I am fortunate to be able to give back to them now when they need me.
On the eve of Ken’s memorial services, I wanted to share this guest memory from Ken’s cousin Geoff Glover. Geoff and his wife Chris live in Ailsworth, not far from where Ken’s childhood home once stood. In 2015, my husband and I had the pleasure of meeting Geoff and Chris and experiencing their wonderful hospitality. They showed us Ken’s father’s home in Sutton, the quaint church in Sutton where Ken’s parents were married in 1921, and the lovely, small cemetery in Sutton where Ken’s grandparents David and Harriet, his uncle WP Glover, his aunt Mabel, and his father David were buried. We also visited Castor Church where Ken was Christened, toured around Peterborough, and even made a stop at Peterborough Milton Golf Club. Geoff and Chris, with the help of this blog, gave me a priceless glimpse into my own family history. Geoff wrote me the note below upon hearing about Ken’s passing.
Kenneth Wadd Glover died on November 30, 2018 aged 91 years. Ken is survived by his loving wife, Doris Louise, two sons, Nigel Kenneth and Nicholas Clive, a daughter, Melanie Louise, four granddaughters, Sara Glover, Rosalie Hawkins, Christine Grindle, and Megan Fair, a great-grandson, Colin Grindle, and a great-granddaughter, Hailey Hawkins.
He met Doris at a Victory-in-Europe Day dance in London and they were married in 1951. Ken and Doris emigrated to Canada with their 12 week old son, Nigel in August, 1954 where Ken worked for L’Air Liquide in cryogenic plant design. Their second son, Nick was born in Montreal and after being transferred to the New York office in 1958, daughter, Melanie was born in Norwalk Connecticut. The family moved to Atlanta in 1965 and to Jacksonville, Florida in 1972. Ken and Doris became U.S. citizens in 1977 with daughter Melanie acting as one of the U.S. citizen sponsors.
So, if I start with my first memories of family life, we would be in Connecticut as I was too young in England and Canada to remember much…
The walk to school was fun some days. There was a sewer line under the street where we could crawl and sneak up on folks. 
I’ll let the others tell about Destin. Starting each time with lining up in size order, everything we did in Destin was fun. 
Ken and I go back a long ways, and our paths have crossed several times. I met Ken circa 1958 or 9, when he was working for American Air Liquide in NYC living in CT, (his Mom was with him) where we had a beach outing with all the kids. I was working for Chemico in NYC and living in NJ. He called on me as a salesman at the time, and we grew to be friends. We each had 3 children of roughly the same ages. We socialized, and visited each other’s homes with families. We saw Barbara Streisand with the wives, on the second night of Funny Girl on Broadway. 
Later yet, we both moved to Houston (1979-80), and I worked for him at POI for a number of years. I divorced my wife and subsequently married Ken’s secretary. He stayed there, and I moved to California when the energy market crashed.
Texas Limey 