A tribute to Peter David Galvin – ‘Pete’
1947 – 2024
Peter David Galvin – ‘Pete’
As a family we’ve spent the last few weeks telling lots of stories about my dad, Pete. There’s a lot of stories to tell. In fact for many people here, you will have had to listen to Pete tell one of his stories. Dad loved an anecdote. As we’ve been telling each other these stories a few themes have emerged. Themes that, to some extent, help to put the many different aspects of Pete’s life into context.
● He believed in actions, not words.
● He was an optimist, relentlessly positive.
● And he believed that community and family are not abstract concepts, but physical things sustained by regular attention and interaction.
Dad was born in Barnsley. You’ll know this already. He was immensely proud of the town and his connection to it. On the Barnsley town crest, which is also the badge on Barnsley FCs shirt is the latin phrase “Spectemur agendo”. Which means “judge us by our acts”. They must have been putting those words in the water in Barnsley.
Dad and his twin sister Trish were born to Phyliss and Edward Galvin in July 1947. Predating the NHS, the receipt for the hospital stay is in my Dad’s desk drawer. From the bill it would appear it was not the most straightforward entry into the world. Having had to pay for healthcare on arrival it seems Dad would be determined to get his money’s worth from the NHS later in life.
The family moved from Park Grove in the centre of Barnsley, to the new estate of Kendray. And as the family grew with the arrival of Julia and then another pair of twins in Maria and Anthony it must have been a lively place. Especially with regular visits from the extended Galvin and Hawcroft families. From the extensive photo archive it’s clear that Dad’s love of a collared shirt and tie were acquired at an early age.
Dad always spoke of his childhood with real affection. The stories he told about his time at St. Joseph’s or the Sunday visits to his grandparents and the cast of aunts, uncles and cousins were recounted with a glint in his eye. Family was at the heart of Dad’s view of the world. The way he told it, to be a Galvin from Barnsley was like winning the lottery of life.
One of his favourite stories from this time was a rare family holiday. Not to Skegness or Whitby but to Burghead near Inverness. An unlikely destination for a family of seven. Travelling hundreds of miles on crowded trains, surrounded by soldiers. The younger siblings asleep on an impromptu bed of suitcases. Something must have rubbed off from that trip because Scotland was a place Dad would return to regularly throughout his life.
One of the reasons that holiday was so special to Dad was that it was a trip they all took together. Tragically Pete’s brother Anthony was killed in an accident. It meant an extra special place for Anthony in his stories and in his heart.
Pete passed the 11-plus and started at the Grammar school. However, this was short lived. Pete’s education and life took a very different turn. At the age of 12 he was off to Ushaw College near Durham. The school was founded in 1808 when the English Seminary in Douai was forced to relocate due to the French Revolution. From my Dad’s stories it seems many aspects of school life remained unaltered from the early 19th century.
Education was of course structured around the liturgical calendar, pupils even stayed until Christmas Day before heading home for the holidays. Latin and Greek was a significant part of the curriculum and classics seem to have made up the rest. Almost daily letters from home became the main form of connection with life in Barnsley. If a response wasn’t forthcoming his dad would send a tickbox form to ensure the family could stay up to date with progress by return post.
In my Dad’s stories the water was always cold and the winters even colder. Dad learned to skate on the pond, a skill that he was still demonstrating much to my trepidation at the age of 70. Pete enjoyed the sporting opportunities. Cricket, football and Cat, a game unique to Ushaw which is a bit like rounders but much more difficult. And dangerous.
Pete’s journey at Ushaw wasn’t destined for the priesthood but the time he spent there shaped the rest of his life. The education he received gave him a deep 3 understanding of many subjects, a working knowledge of Latin and Greek, life long friendships. And a single A level.
Pete’s first job was at Grimethorpe Colliery, not underground, but helping to assess subsidence claims. Of which there were many. He didn’t stay long, but just long enough to pick up a good anecdote about Olympic sprinter Dorothy Hyman who worked in the pit office. And to listen to the colliery band who practised in the car park after work. Instead it was time for a career change, the first of many, heading off to train as a Customs Officer.
Pete’s twin sister Trish, and Tess were old school friends, having met at school and then both going on to college in Liverpool. One evening at a dinner dance at the Grafton Rooms in Liverpool, Pete asked Tess to dance, and a romance was born. Pete’s customs postings took him round the UK. Working on the Thames, at Immingham and Hull. Wherever he was stationed he would send letters to Tess. The letter writing habit from Ushaw was coming in useful.
In the summer Pete was stationed at what is now East Midlands Airport. The 60s boom in European summer holidays meant that Dad was on hand to make sure nobody was smuggling sangria into Nottinghamshire. Occasionally if a flight wasn’t full Pete and his colleagues would process the passengers leaving the UK and then hop on the flight with them. One time Dad managed to get a last minute trip to Paris for him and Tess, but the only ticket available for her was a child’s ticket. Luckily she knew someone in the customs to smooth things over.
When stationed back on the Humber, Pete worked in a rummage crew. His job was to look for smuggled items and avoid being diverted by Russian captains offering Vodka for breakfast. In many ways working on the river was a poor choice for someone with a life long problem with sea sickness. Pete could feel ill on a boating lake never mind travelling up and down the Humber in the middle of the night.
Tess and Pete were married in 1970. For those of you who weren’t there the fashion on show in the photos has to be seen to be believed. Initially they lived in a flat above a car showroom. Pete wasn’t someone to spend a lot of money on cars. The 4 first few he owned all cost no more than £10, so he can’t have been a good customer for the business below.
For their honeymoon Tess and Pete travelled to the Isle of Mull staying in Tobermory. A slightly more arduous trip than it is today – their car had to be craned on and off the deck of the ferry. Mum and Dad returned to Scotland and Mull many times over the years – Dad’s love of bird watching and until recently the occasional whisky made it the ideal destination. This time last year we went for lunch in the old ferry terminal where they had disembarked more than 50 years before.
Whilst it’s hard to imagine it now Grimsby and Cleethorpes in the early 70s was a boom town. Dad swapped shifts on the river for work at Conoco and Tess and Pete built a life by the sea. Social life revolved around sport for Dad. Playing cricket for Humberstone against village teams from across Lincolnshire – once taking all 10 wickets in a match and occasionally being mistaken for Geoffrey Boycott due to the crispness of his forward defensive.
Working at the oil refinery was a dangerous business so Dad began studying with the OU to get a degree. This was his way out of shift work and into management. And another career change, working as a colour chemist at Courtaulds. As part of Pete’s work he would have to travel to some of the factories and mills that used their products. Pete’s first connection with Rochdale.
In the late 70s and early 80s the economy on the Humber bank followed the rest of the UK and took a downturn. Not great timing considering Tess and Pete now had two children, Sophia and I. Dad took his newly found skills as a chemist and retrained as a teacher. Moving briefly to Huddersfield and then over the border to Rochdale. His teaching career started at Moor Close in Middleton and then to Bishop Henshaw on the Oldham Road.
Dad threw himself into community work in Rochdale. Maybe as a committed Yorkshireman he felt that it was his duty to help those unfortunate enough to have been born in Lancashire. If there was an opportunity to get involved Dad took it:
● Volunteering at youth clubs
● Working tirelessly for the Norden and Bamford Labour Party, possible the ultimate lost cause
● At various times a school governor at Caldershaw, Bamford Primary and Oulder Hill School
● Volunteering at the citizens advice bureau
● Being a teaching union rep – which in the 1980s seemed to involve quite a few strikes
At St. Vincents in Norden he helped to build the parish centre – which based on his DIY skills was perhaps not the generous offer it sounds. Dad’s approach to DIY was mainly based around the use of sellotape. Mum once broke down on the motorway in one of our ageing Citroen 2CVs. Luckily a couple of motorbikers stopped to help – but on opening the bonnet they discovered that Dad had repaired a faulty air intake with a couple of toilet rolls and lots of sellotape.
The move to being a teacher meant extended family holidays, often back to Scotland. Dad swimming in the sea, mum sheltering behind a wind break trying to dry out the sandwiches. Sometimes we’d go to Northumberland instead and invariably the priest at mass on Sunday had been at Ushaw with Pete.
The cause closest to Dad’s heart was Petrus. A Rochdale based organisation that supports local people who have housing problems. Initially Pete helped out collecting unwanted food from shops in town, so it could be distributed to people who didn’t have anything to eat. He also ran a Saturday night Bingo session for Petrus clients. Though his initial prize selection of a couple of cigarettes for getting a line and a beer for a full house didn’t stand the test of a modern approach to supporting people with dependency problems!
For many years Christmas Day meant helping out at Petrus, serving lunch to people who didn’t usually get a regular meal, never mind turkey and all the trimmings. Pete also served on the board, working as a trustee, helping to expand the services to support more women, ex-offenders and anyone who was falling through the net.
In the second half of his life Pete often had serious health problems. Not that you’d know from talking to him. If asked how he was doing he would say that he was “pushing perfection”. At no point did the many ailments he collected stop him for very long. Once when waiting for a serious heart operation in Manchester he had an extended stay on a ward with other coronary patients. On a day when they were slightly short staffed Dad took over the tea trolley, going round serving the other
people on the ward. These ‘inconveniences’ as he described them were things to endure, but at no point did he ever consider himself ill.
In recent years it felt like the NHS had Pete on speed dial – his ability to secure appointments and procedures running counter to the waiting time statistics. In part I think it was because of his optimism. Consultants and surgeons liked his attitude – faced with a risky procedure Dad always took the optimistic view. If there was something that could be done it was worth a try. Today is a celebration for many reasons, but I know Dad viewed much of his later life as bonus years. A time to get things done.
When he took early retirement from teaching, Dad had yet another career change and went to work for the Post Office as a regional manager. One of his main responsibilities was to arrive on the scene at Post Offices to support the staff immediately after an armed robbery or incident. Not necessarily the best job for someone with heart problems.
Eventually health slightly got the better of his professional life and he retired. Which gave him more time for his community work and when mum retired as well for some holidays beyond Scotland.
With retirement Dad also had a bit more time to follow Barnsley. Luckily the football at Oakwell doesn’t always set the heart racing, but occasional trips to Wembley for FA Cup and play-off games were more exciting. Dad would always be well turned out – not many football fans wear a shirt and tie to the match. On a trip to Wembley Dad was wearing a suit, tie and his trademark red fedora. Seeing him outside the ground a group of fans were convinced that the smartly dressed older gentleman was Geoffrey Boycott. No forward defensive needed this time. Dad, of course, obligingly posed for the photos.
With the arrival of his grand-children, Violet, Hazel, Robyn and Toby, Dad found a new and occasionally appreciative audience for his collection of terrible jokes. He took great delight in maintaining family connections. During the covid lock down he would suggest a recipe for the grand-children to bake and then get together to judge over zoom. The Great Galvin Bake Off!
A constant in Pete’s life was his faith. Whilst his time at Ushaw didn’t leave him with many qualifications it did give him a deep, almost academic interest in the liturgy. Sometimes if he wasn’t happy with a phrase in a reading he would go home and re-translate it himself from his Greek New Testament.
For Pete his Catholic faith didn’t just mean attending church. A parish is a community and for Dad community meant getting involved. Writing bidding prayers, counting the collection, reading, and baking. Lots of baking. Here at St. Johns it also meant getting involved in working to secure a lottery bid to improve the fabric of the building and restore the magnificent mosaic behind the altar. Dad took great pride not just in winning the bid and delivering the project but also in the community engagement that came afterwards. With people of all faiths from the surrounding area invited into church to see the results.
Spectemur agendo. Actions not words.
Time to rest now.