Dad was a man of great patience, and his talent for model making should have been appreciated by a wider audience, that it never was is testimony to his values as a private, family man who was content with what he had.

He worked on the railway for the most part of his life, at the Carriage Works on Holgate Hill in York, when he finished work he'd cycle the two miles home (uphill) then stick me on the crossbar on a little blue seat and pedal us both down to the railway bridge at Dringhouses so I could watch the steam trains go by ... yes, it was a while ago! He taught me how to mend punctures on bikes, build working models with Meccano, and did all those things that many dads don't seem to have the time to do with their kids nowadays. Dad was born in 1925 BC (Before Computers) things like 'Digi Boxes' and Hi Fi's were, for the most part, a mystery to him, but give him a fret saw and a piece of scrap wood and he could make anything you could think of ... and not a pixel in sight.

It's only six weeks at time of writing since I shook his hand and told him I'd see him in the summer. I never saw him again.  

A lesson to be learned here I think.

As ever there was a lot I wanted to say to him and never did, and now of course it's too late. So until I get to see him again this page, up there 24/7 in the ether, will help keep him, at least in part, on this world. My own road never took me to creating things with my hands like dad, however some of his efforts to drag me into line must have rubbed off and as a result I've written this music track in his memory.

Rest in Peace dad, the world is a lesser place without you.

Your son, Stephen.

©Copyright deadloud 2017(Steve Plows) all rights reserved

In Loving memory of my father

Eric Plows

who passed away on the morning

of 11th May 2009