A POSTSCRIPT to A Pickworth Diary THE MYSTERY of Dorothy Houghton that has bothered me since first reading the diary in 1998 was finally solved five years later. On 26th January 2003, I received an email from Mrs Susan Simmons living in Warkworth, New Zealand, which said: I have just stumbled across your web site after putting a search in for William Christopher Houghton, my great grandfather, and I am dumbfounded. Dorothy who wrote the Pickworth Diary that you reproduce, was my great aunt. I immediately looked through old photographs belonging to my mother, Marjory, who died three years ago, and included among them was one of my grandfather, Francis Cyril Houghton in his World War One uniform. I have just now read his account of war written in Dorothy's diary and seen the Roll of Honour with the name of him and his
two brothers, Reg and Basil, included and I have tears in my eyes. I have sent a link to your page to my cousin Tony Sherwin who lives at
Chessington, Surrey. His mother is Elizabeth, Francis Cyril's youngest daughter who also lives in Surrey, and they were stunned to know about this discovery. They will also be delighted and moved to read Dorothy's diary. My mother married my father, Dudley Wright, at Surbiton in Surrey in 1946 and I was born there the following year. We emigrated to New Zealand in 1948, both my parents having served in the army and had found it difficult to settle after discharge. We have been living here ever since. Biographical details of those mentioned in the diary are as follows:
A further email arrived from Andrew Clayton in Birmingham, England, on 13th July 2003 which provided more information about Dorothy. It said: I have just been made aware of the Dorothy Houghton's diary by Susan Simmons. Dorothy, or Auntie Dosh as we called her, was my great aunt. I knew her when we lived in Newcastle circa 1953-56. I was about eight years old and Dorothy would have been in her mid or late sixties. We used to go to her house for tea occasionally on a Saturday or Sunday. I, of course, was required to be on my best behaviour so it wasn't always a totally enjoyable experience. As you probably know, she never married and lived alone in a terraced house in Ashleigh Grove, West Jesmond. She was quite deaf which may be the affliction referred to in her visit to the hospital in London. I thoroughly enjoyed reading the extracts of the diary and hope to be able to read it in its entirety sometime soon. I have also learned more about my grandfather Basil and the other members of the family. Edie (Edith), the nurse, became a nun in the early 1930s. Was that decision influenced by her war experiences, I wonder? That, of course, is the fascination of all this social history. The diary has now been handed to the family where it belongs and so it has returned home after more than eighty years. Photos: Courtesy Susan Simmons and Tony Sherwin Return to A Pickworth Diary
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