When Ivor Brinley Daniels was born on February 8, 1929, his father, Samuel, was 37 and his mother, Hannah, was 33. He married Margery Edith Jean Walbridge on September 12, 1950, in Weymouth, Dorset, England. They had four children during their marriage. He died on January 2, 1995, in Weymouth, Dorset, England, at the age of 65.
Birth of Ivor Brinley Daniels.
Ivor Brinley Daniels was born in Ogmore, Glamorgan, Wales, on February 8, 1929, to Hannah Burrows, age 33, and Samuel Daniel, age 37.
Marriage of Ivor Brinley Daniels and Margery Edith Jean Walbridge.
Ivor Brinley Daniels married Margery Edith Jean Walbridge in Weymouth, Dorset, England, on September 12, 1950, when he was 21 years old.
Children of Ivor Brinley Daniels and Margery Edith Jean Walbridge.
- Phillip Brinley Keith Daniels.
- Geoffery Samuel G Daniels.
- Yvonne M K Daniels.
- Julie Irene Daniels.
Military Service details for Ivor Brinley Daniels.
I know that Ivor served in the Navy, and I will add some details here when I find them.
Death of Ivor Brinley Daniels.
Ivor Brinley Daniels died on January 2, 1995, in a Weymouth Nursing Home in Dorset, England, when he was 65 years old.
My Memories of Ivor Daniels.
The first thing I should explain about my great Uncle Ivor was that he had many, many nicknames. As a young boy, I knew him as Nunk, a play on words for Uncle and this name always stuck with me. He was known by many of his family by his second name, Brinley, which was often just shortened to Brin. He was also known by a lot of people as Tich, which is probably a reference to his height.
When I was a young boy, and we were visiting Ivor and Marge in Portland, I would go collecting slow worms. We would go along the cliff tops, lifting rocks and picking up as many slow worms as we could to put in a bucket to take home. When we got back to Fareham, these slow worms were always released into my dad's garden.
Ivor would also go mad whenever I pointed out the rabbits hopping along in the fields. He used to say it was bad luck to call them rabbits, and if we had to mention them at all, we were to call them furry things. I believe this is because the burrowing of the furry things could cause landslips in the local quarries and be dangerous to the quarry workers.
I remember when I was a British Gas apprentice, I had to do a total of six weeks on courses in Poole in Dorset. After being on the courses from Monday to Friday, I would drive to Portland to stay with Nunk and his wife, Margery. By this time, all of his children had left home, and there was always a spare room for me. I remember we went out for a drink one Friday night to a small pub. Marge went mad at Nunk when he got me a glass of real scrumpy from behind the bar. The landlady didn't want to serve it to me, but Nunk said, "he will be okay. He belongs to me". Nunk told Marge and the landlady it wouldn't hurt and would put hairs on my chest. It looked horrible, and it was very, very cloudy, had bits of straw, and god only knows what else floating in it. It was warm and tasted terrible. The landlady gave me a regular pint of cider from the pumps at the bar to replace it, but Nunk finished it rather than waste it. We had a great night, and it was the only time in my life that I ever saw him a bit worse for wear at the end of the night.
Years later, after Marge had passed away and Nunk had moved into a small bungalow, I went to visit him. I was staying at his son Geoff´s house, and when I arrived in Portland on Friday at lunchtime, I walked straight around to the Conservative Club to meet Nunk. I remember going through the door and the doorman stopping me and telling me that I couldn't go in as it was a private club. Nunk walked out of the bar on his way to the toilet, saw me and told the doorman that I didn't need to be signed in, that I was family and belonged to him. Whenever I visited again, the doorman always just waved me through, always asked how I was doing, and he always remembered my name.
Truth or tall tales.
My dad and Nunk always used to tell me the same story, but I have never been able to find out if it was true or not, although various family members tell the same story.
Apparently, when he was a young boy, he always got into fights. After one fight when he was still a young boy, he was taken by the police to see the local judge. He was given two options: he could either go to Borstal or join the Navy. He joined the Navy.
One of the stories I have also heard is that he was on board HMS Amethyst during the Amethyst Incident. Again, I have never been able to find any proof of this, and I believe it was just a tall tale.