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OMNIA
Issue 08 Autumn/Winter 2020
OBITUARIES
RICHARD A (TOBY) RUSHTON
(OC 1948 – 1956) Born 1939, died 2020. There are few people about whom no-one has anything to say but good. Our friend, Toby Rushton, was one such person and we treasure his memory. He and I first met in September 1948 as we were enrolled as boys in Beta, the entry level class at Caterham School Preparatory. Actually, there were nine of us boarders, in dormitories of three and six. We soon found a third kindred spirit in Roger Berrett. Toby was possibly a little better informed than the rest of us as his older brother, Ian, was also at Caterham, albeit four years ahead of us. Two years later, with the arrival of the 11+ intake, our group welcomed John Davies, Phil Walker and David Charles. While our school careers were dominated by sport, Toby and I were in the scout troop. It must have been at an area sports meeting in 1952 when we teamed up in the three-legged race. With a bit of practice, we managed to coordinate ourselves into a synchronised gallop, won our heats and the final to become “East Surrey Champions”! Fame, indeed! Time went on and Toby’s plan, after O Levels, was to enrol as an articled clerk to an accounting practice in
Manchester. The examiner had not been briefed on this and we sixth formers were surprised and delighted to find our friend back amongst us in September 1956, committed to spending a term enhancing a couple of O Levels and earning rugby colours as a wing three-quarter. Big, strong and with an enormous stride, he was a real challenge to tackle. We celebrated Toby’s departure from Caterham with a visit to a traditional jazz concert at the Royal Festival Hall, featuring Ken Collyer, Cy Lawry, Mick Mulligan and Big Bill Broonsy. Quite a night as I recall. I was overseas while the guys stayed in touch and supported Toby’s marriage to Sheila and, indeed, their own. And with a career in place, “Richard” soon replaced the diminutive family nickname. “Family was very important to our parents,” remember Richard’s daughters, Joanna and Samantha, “and we enjoyed a wonderful, happy childhood. As very sociable people, Mum and Dad threw wonderful parties, still remembered to this day.” “Most Saturday afternoons during the rugby season, Dad would watch Sale Rugby Club from the stand, and after the match, stand beside a pint or two in the bar. As Treasurer and, later Life Honorary Member of Sale, Dad was instrumental in ensuring that the interests of Club Members were protected once the Club ‘went professional’. “Dad played hard but worked really hard too,” say Joanna and Samantha, “as a Partner in the accounting firm, Robson Rhodes. That work ethic has been instilled in us both as we built our careers in Financial Services and the NHS.” “Dad adored the family and rarely a year went by without him accompanying us on holiday. After living for twenty years in a house full of women, imagine his delight to welcome into the family his three grandsons, Tom, Josh and George with whom he loved rough and tumble on the beach and more latterly
sharing chat and a pint in the ‘local’. His granddaughter, Amber, whom he called ‘My Number 1’, was also very special to him.” “We were all shocked and saddened when Mum developed Motor Neurone Disease in her early fifties. While she bore this with bravery and humour, it hit Dad particularly hard and he retired early to care for her.” For nigh on thirty years, I kept in touch through Christmas cards. With approaching retirement, returning to the UK, I re-established our friendship and our group met once or twice a year, often at a sponsored table at a Benefit Match at my local village Cricket Club. The last time that all six of us met was in November 2015. Roger asked us to join him for dinner and a visit to the Brooklands Motor Museum. We had a wonderful time, despite knowing that Roger’s prostate cancer was far advanced. Toby was beginning to show signs of a speech problem and it transpired that this was the last time that we saw our friend as we knew him. We had a few beers that night, shared a lot of memories, laughed a lot and thoroughly enjoyed being together. Just before Christmas 2018, my wife, Patricia, and I took Toby and his carer for a Pub Lunch. He enjoyed his lunch, and a couple of pints even more. He smiled a few times and responded to one or two comments. Sadly, though, my friend was really no longer there. A year later, I visited him in a care home. Dementia is merciless. Four months later he left us. Among all the people I have known, he remains an absolute joy. ■ Written by OC Peter Ward