I often think about Graham’s idea to start up the horses again – perhaps he was the H.G. Wells of undertaking after all, as we now stable seventeen horses and these are out virtually every day.
From the one business that was set up by my grandfather, we now have fifteen shops over the Essex area and have been called out to conduct funerals all over the country. When Uncle Tom died, and the boys came to work for us, I believe that through hard work, the knowledge that was passed down to me and I passed on to them, combined with their youthful enthusiasm and the ideas they brought to the table, enabled us to achieve what we have today. It certainly wasn’t easy, and it took many, many years of dedication from all of us, but the end result for me is hugely rewarding. It’s more than I, and I’m sure Uncle and Grandma could have ever dreamed of. I know for sure that both of them would be flabbergasted to know that we have had a six-week fly-on-the-wall documentary made about us called The Grave Trade, which was shown on TV and, as a result of its success, a second series is being shown as I write.
We’ve also opened a large funeral home in Ghana. This was decided on after many Ghanaians who now live in the area wished for their loved ones who had passed away to be repatriated to their homeland.
I am also kept busy with my charities: The Horses’ Trust, of which Princess Anne is the patron, and whom I’ve had the privilege to have met on several occasions at Buckingham Palace. This charity raises money for homeless and retired horses. I was also lucky enough to be invited in April 2014 to Highgrove by HRH Prince Charles for my services to the equine industry. The Prince is also the Patron of the Hackney Horse Society which, I’m very proud to say, recently approved me as President. There is also the Company of Farriers – they train up student farriers and are also very involved in the welfare of horses.
Lastly, but certainly not least, the Road Club of Horses and Carriages. There are around eighty members. We meet up once a year and take our carriages out and about around London and through the country to raise money for Help For Heroes.
I’m still a keen bird collector and have several aviaries in my garden, which house many rare types of birds, but unfortunately no chickens!
I hope that you have enjoyed reading my stories. I have certainly enjoyed relaying them to you. But I have one more to tell you before I go:
A few weeks ago, I was called in on the special request of an old customer. I had conducted around ten of her family’s funerals over the years. I met her son to go through the arrangements. When we reached the point of choosing the casket he said to me, ‘Mum made it clear to all of us that she specifically wanted you to carry her out from her home.’
‘Yes, of course,’ I replied. ‘I’d be happy to be one of the coffin bearers.’
‘No, you don’t understand,’ he said. ‘She wanted you to carry her out.’
I smiled and said, ‘I’m eighty-four. I can’t carry a coffin out on my own. I wouldn’t have been able to do that even when I was younger!’
‘I’m sorry, Mr Cribb, but you still don’t understand,’ he said, getting embarrassed. ‘Her actual words were: “I want Stan Cribb to carry me out to the hearse. Not in a coffin . . . in his arms.”’
Well, you could have knocked me down with a feather! I’m not often lost for words but I was then. I had to explain that unfortunately it couldn’t be done – that his mother had to be placed in a casket – and I would be happy to be a bearer. He reluctantly agreed, although he wasn’t very happy about it, but there wasn’t an alternative – thank goodness – not at my age!
Stan Cribb, 2015
Acknowledgements
I was sitting watching the fireworks on New Year’s Eve 2012 and, for some unknown reason, I had the sudden urge to write a book about Stan Cribb. I have known Stan for most of my life. My great-grandfather Marcus Rickwood was a good friend of Thomas Cribb, who was Stan’s grandfather back in 1881. He was a sign-writer who painted the frontage of the original shop, as pictured on the back cover of this book. They had thirteen children, and my grandmother, Eliza, was the eldest child. Mortality rates were very high in those days and having big families meant there would inevitably be more funerals. I came to meet Stan as he and Tom have conducted all of my family’s funerals over the last fifty years.
I contacted his son John soon afterwards and arranged to go and see him at one of their funeral homes, in Beckton. Whilst I was there, he rang Stan and asked if he would be interested in writing his memoirs, which I’m happy to say he agreed too.
I went to see Stan at his lovely home in Essex, and we had a wonderful afternoon chatting and laughing about the old days whilst being fed and watered by his lovely wife Lin, who, by the way, makes the most delicious cakes! It was an absolute pleasure to go and see them every ten days or so and write down Stan’s stories.
At first I was very apprehensive sitting in front of my laptop, getting out my notes and Dictaphone to start writing my very first book. Staring at that blank page that needs filling with words was a daunting experience, but then I heard Stan’s boyhood voice talking and off I went.
I must admit, I found the entire process really enjoyable. My niece Katie, who is also a writer, suggested I read Stephen King’s On Writing, which helped me enormously. He recommends that when you have finished the first draft, you should lock the book away for at least six weeks, and give the key to someone else, so you will not be tempted to go back to it. After this time has passed, make a large flask of your favourite drink, (after waiting all this time I was tempted to forget the flask and take a chilled bottle of Sauvignon, but I refrained) and go somewhere quiet and read the whole book from cover to cover. By doing this, any small discrepancies or spelling mistakes will ‘jump out’ at you. I did this, but it was really difficult not to look at it or do anything with it for such a long time, but his advice worked and I was pleased I followed it.
Another suggestion he made was that once you had corrected your manuscript, print off four or five copies and ask your family or friends or someone you trust to read it, but they must tell you the truth and give you feedback. If one person mentions something they didn’t like, take no notice, as it’s just personal preference, but if they all say the same thing then you should change it. I did this and the feedback I received was so helpful that I ended up showing it to about twenty people over the next few months. The help they gave me was, I feel, invaluable.
That is where my acknowledgement comes in; it’s for all the people who took the time to read my manuscript before I sent it to the publisher. Thank you, everyone . . . the book just wouldn’t have been the same without all of your suggestions.
Firstly Alex Montgomer – a friend and renowned journalist who read my book when I was just halfway through. I was losing my confidence and feeling it wasn’t good enough to continue. He gave me the encouragement to finish.
Then, once finished, my Mum and Terry. My mum also was a great source of information regarding the Blitz, as she is a few years older than Stan and lived only two roads away.
I’d also like to thank the following: Mike Dunn, Katie Bazire-Smith, Carly Bazire, Zoki Kuzmancevic, Joe Pawlikowski, Louise Vyce, Rebecca Kisko, Jane Nottage, Cliff and Laurie Board, Myrtle Hockham, Bruce and Anna Walker, Paul and Lin Bazire, Tracey Graham, Suzie Bazire, and last, but definitely not least, Jeff Powell – another renowned journalist and good friend.
Yvette Venables, February 2015
Endnote
1 As well as food rations, clothing rations were also introduced on 1 June 1941 – lasting until March 1949, which allowed only one set of new clothes per person a year.
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An East End Farewell Page 23
