What's with the Names?
Paul. I am very interested in the names of some of our ancestors
- Lumption and Lamrock I must say, are new ones on me.
Memories of Granma
I thought you may be interested in some sketchy memories I have -
My earliest recollections of my maternal grandmother date back to a time
when I was perhaps 3 years old. the time, she was obviously very ill, and confined to her
bed. She lived with Auntie Dot and Uncle Con, and her room was on the ground floor of
their house.
Visits to Granma's Room
I remember my Mum taking me into the room, and sitting on the bed with
Gramma, as she was called. I remember her having a knitted bed jacket, but unfortunately
not much else. From her photographs ( my mother has several on display at my parents
house) she looks like a very kindly looking lady, and she has a sort of shy look about
her. I was 5 years old when she died.
Grandad the Rugby Star
Grandfather died some 14 years before I was born, although there are
lots of photographs of him in his rugby days at my parents. The information about his
accident was very interesting, and from the press report he was clearly a revered player,
and a popular character.
Aunty May
Mum's sister, Auntie May, I remember more clearly, and I can recall a
very small, jolly, lady. I remember going to her house as a child, and being amazed at how
old fashioned it was. She was often at Auntie Dot's house when we called, and I can see
her now, sitting on the sofa, very pleased to see us children. all of my childhood.
 Aunty Nancy
"Auntie Nancy" was a name I remember being mentioned often.
She lived in this far off place, and I always thought that it must be so far off, nobody
could ever go there.
The Intrepid Travels of my Aunt
So when I was about 10 or 11, to be told by my very excited mother that
Auntie Nancy was "coming home", I was incredulous. I imagined days of travel,
through swampland and across desert by camel, driving jeeps through the jungle. How would
she feel about all this? After my imagination running wild, to be told that it was about
26 hours by plane seemed quite easy!
A Rainy Day's waiting
I remember staying with my Nana in Wern Road, PortTalbot with my
brother. We were so excited, since soon we were to meet this Auntie that we had only heard
about.It was a very wet day, one of those days that you start reading a book, or a
game but never have the concentration to finish it. I remember sitting in the window,
waiting for my parents to return from Heathrow Airport with my Auntie.
After an absolute age, my Dad turned up. He said that everyone - I don't
know who went altogether- had been crying when they saw her, and I remember thinking that
she wouldn't be too chuffed by so many people blubbering as she hit British soil for the
first time in 26 years!
"You must be Richard and Andrew"
I think it was the next day that we went to Auntie Dots to meet
her. I remember being in their living room, and that she was upstairs, still a bit tired
after the journey. We hadn't long to wait, and there she was, with her dark glasses and
huge smile. " Hi " she beamed "you must be Richard and Andrew". That's
the bit I recall the best, the smile, and the accent. I remember being really surprised at
the accent.
During her visit, there were lots of parties and so on. I rememebr she
stayed for 6 weeks, and the time came for her to return. This was the real memory bit.
The Heathrow ride from Hell
The whole family - seemed like hundreds of people but I'm sure it wasn't
- were going up to Heathrow Airport to see her off. I'm sure that you must have heard
about this before, but not from a stranded small passenger point of view.
Howard Kisses Myra
Nancy and I don't know who else, my Mum, and Auntie Dot I guess, went
with my Dad in his car, which if I remember was a white Ford Cortina registration RHK
313M. I'm pretty sure this was the car, but the number plate I'll never forget because my
Mum always said that it stood for "RH ( my Dads initials ) Kisses Myra."
Where's the luggage?
Anyway, at the time my Dad travelled a lot with his job, so a trip to
London, even in those days before the roads were quite so good, held no real demons for
him. The next detail I will never understand, and I never understood then. Aunite Nancy's
Luggage went seperately (!!!!) with my Uncle Con. Why split the luggage and the pasenger?
Seemed ridiculous to me even then.
Uncle Con
Uncle Con was a lovely bloke. He was quiet, and was a great favourite of
ours. He always had loads of time for us kids, and we always had a great welcome from him.
At the time he had a bottle green Ford Cortina, a bit older than Dads.
Setting off
Aunty Nancy's luggage went separate. There was me, my brother, Auntie Eileen and Uncle
John. We set off on what for Uncle Con must have been a very long distance ahead.
The Car dies at Reading
I don't know how far we got. I haven't thought about it for quite a bit. I
suppose it was at Reading, abaout 150 miles into the journey of about 180 miles. I don't
remember a bang or a crash, but the car slowed down until it reached a halt on the hard
shoulder of the motorway.
Uncle Con Disappears
Next memory- Unlce Con disappearing into the distance as he trudged to an emergency
phone. I can't remember how long we waited for but eventually a man with a beard, some red
overalls and most importantly of all, a break-down truck arrived.
The TowTruck man
Some deal was struck and Con seemed to get the rought end of it. He stayed with
the broken down car while the rest of us went off in the truck
I remember it being a pretty rough ride since we had the luggage and the plan was to
try to get to the airport in time for Nancy's flight.
Dad to the rescue
Somewhere near the outskirts of the airport, we saw my Dad who had come looking for us.
There was a very very quick swap of luggage, and my Dad screamed off in his car leaving
rubber on the road and his two sons thinking he must be James Bond or something.
The plane was gone-Nancy wasn't on it
We arrived soon after but the plane was gone and I think my Auntie caught a flight a
day or two later.
Is Uncle Con still out there waiting to be collected?
My memory falis me at this point, and I don't know how we got home or when or what
happened to Uncle Con and the green Cortina, or how long he was waiting to be towed in.
Dad was 007 -for a few minutes
I gave none of this a second thought because, Hey, for just a few munutes, my Dad was
James Bond.
 Editor's
Postsript-Mum was a Rocket Science Spy
If Dad was 007 for just a few minutes, then we must also tell the story of Mum-Myra-
who, the story goes, was 007 for quite a bit longer.
Blue Streak
Where Myra worked, they were working on a top security project that designed and
launched the Blue Streak Rocket which incidentlally was fired from the rocket range in
Australia called Woomera.
When Cambridge was "Spies are Us"
The secret designs was drawn up and had to be taken to another office. But you have to
understand that this is at the height of the Cold War and Russian spies are everywhere,
they almost make up a whole faculty at Cambridge University- and the defense chiefs have
to work out a plan to get these plans out without their being intercepted.
Attention All Spies-We are moving the Plans
The key to their success was Myra. They planned an elaborate and very visible movement
of the briefcase in and out of highly guarded cars and with escorts so that clearly,
everyone would know-including even Russian spies- that the plans of the Blue Streak Rocket
were being taken to the head office.
What nice calendars that girl has with her
Unbeknowns to the spies, it was all a decoy because one quiet and unassuming secretary
was taking a train ride with some documents that must have looked like calendars all
rolled up in canisters. And these documents were indeed the secret documents and the
secretary was none other than 007's wife, Myra.
In case of an intercept?
We don't know what precautions Myra was trained to take if Blunt or his cohorts had
intercepted her. Maybe she had a Koloshnikov rifle in her purse of a hand-grenade strapped
to her ankle.
It was Rocket Science back then.
What we do know of course is that the courier got through. The rocket had a pretty
checkered career, if I recall. More blue streaks ended up wrecked on the salt pans of Lake
Eyre than doing any damage to the red Empire and the things kept exploding before they
were supposed to. But Myra's tale is deserving of a telling and a retelling.
Probably the family's most major part in the Cold War campaign.
 | Coda: I remember this story because I think I have heard Berny Costello tell it with
relish. It may not be very close to his version, and might be even further removed from
Myra's original, but what matter, it only grows with the telling, like any good story.
|
| Unless, Myra, you want to put us straight????
|
The Editor.
|
The Web stories have brought back
some memories for Richard Thomas, Myra and Howard's eldest son. 
