Dedicated to the memory of Hazel

This site is a tribute to Hazel beloved wife of Maurice, dearly loved mam of Neil and Kevin, mother-in-law to Liz, much loved grandma of Harriet and Rachael and friend to many.

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This is an extract from the memories written by my Dad who was evacuated to Brampton as a child. He and Hazel formed a special bond and as they married and had families always kept in touch. Sadly my Dad, Bill Connor passed away just over a year ago. I know if he were here would want to mark this sad occasion and so in his memory I share with you the following: " My wife and I and two daughters would call in at Hazel and Maurice's farm as we went to the Lake District and catch up with all the news. One day Hazel said ' why don't your two lasses come for a holiday on the farm in the summer time" of course summer could not come quick enough and off they went for a fortnight on the farm. In return the two boys came and had a holiday with us. ( Little did Mam and Dad realise what they had let themselves in for)! Of course time goes on, A. Ethel, U Jack and Margaret have passed on but the bond between the families is still there either through special occasions, telephone, or facebook and in conclusion I would like to think that they made a farmers boy out of me. Who should I thank for all this? Mr Hitler for being a war monger, Mr Chamberlain for saying " we are now at war with Germany and all vunerable children to go into the countryside as evacuees", or should I thank the Good Lord for letting me be places with such kind, loving and generous people. Wonderful memories to be remembered and never forgotten! Short extract from 'Little Billie, My Evacuee', memories written by Bill Connor
Alison
14th November 2020
Thank you for setting up this memorial to Hazel. We hope that you find it a positive experience developing the site and that it becomes a place of comfort and inspiration for you to visit whenever you want or need to.
Sent by Ian Blair Undertakers on 11/11/2020
I am I and you are you, whatever we were to each other that we still are. Speak to me in the easy way which you always used. Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight? Life means all that it ever meant, it is the same as it ever was.
Extract from a poem by Henry Scott Holland
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