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BRANCH MEMORIAL


WHAT IS DYING?

I am standing on the seashore. A ship sails to the morning breeze and starts for the ocean. She is an object of beauty and I stand watching her till at last she fades on the horizon, and someone at my side says, "She is gone." Gone where? Gone from my sight, that is all; she is just as large in the masts, hull and spars as she was when I saw her...
The diminished size and total loss of sight is in me, not in her; and just at the moment when someone at my side says, "She is gone!" there are others who are watching her coming, and other voices take up a glad shout, "There she comes" - that is dying.

Bishop Brent

   Shipmates who have crossed the bar since the Branch began  

 

August 2003         S/M Jack Ronan 

                             S/M Peter Scotney

 

 

December 2005    S/M Mary Barlow

                             S/M Ron Reid

                             S/M Patricia Chaffey

 

 

January 2008       S/M Brian Mountford

December 2008    S/M Dennis Philpin

 

 

March 2010           S/M Ian Gould

June 2010              S/M Bill Paynter

November 2010      S/M Andrew Noyes

                                          Chairman

 

 

November 2012      S/M Ron Jones

December 2012      S/M Sylvia Tooes


 

February 2015       Bill Hellier (Chairman)
November 2015      Shirley Burrows

December 2004       S/M Martin Rennie

 

 

 

July 2007                S/M Gwen Oates-Davies

 

 

 

 

 

February 2009      S/M Freddie Humphreys

 

 

 

May 2011               S/M Lucy Ronan

August 2011           S/M Derek Tongs

December 2011      S/M Fred Cooper

                                Honorary Life Vice President

 


March 2014           Martin Barker
August 2014           Claude ‘Curly’ Burrows
December 2014      Sandra ‘Sandy’ Able

 

 

Sunset and Evening star,                                  But such a tide as moving seems asleep,

And one clear call for me!                                Too full for sound and foam,

And may there be no moaning of the bar      When that which drew from out the boundless deep 

When I put out to sea                                         Turns again home 

 

Twilight and evening bell,                               For tho’ from out our bourne of Time and Place

And after that the dark!                                    The flood may bear me far

And may there be no sadness of farewell,      I hope to see my pilot face to face

When I embark;                                                  When I have crost the bar.

 

                                     Alfred Lord Tennyson (1809-92)

 

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