This is the story of me and my family. It’s the family I know most about for that obvious reason, and as a result, it’s the section that is the longest. Not just the longest, but it’s written with first-hand direct knowledge and so perhaps it is therefore most likely to be correct. That said, it’s written from my perspective which could differ from others in my family. I try to make it more than just a factual account, I try to make it a personal recollection and interpretation, and link it to wider genealogical perspective – where our individual traits remind me of others I’ve researched.
Iain’s Younger Years
I was named the Scottish version of John, almost continuing the tradition of a long line of John Spences whilst also acknowledging my Scottish heritage.
My brother Phil was probably closer to the Yorkshire tradition with a middle name of John, though is the one who has lived in Scotland and is regularly seen wearing the tartan. Despite the reason for my naming, I realised at a young age that my birth certificate had the English spelling of Ian, and so took it upon myself to re-spell it Iain in the Gaelic tradition. My driver’s license, passport and all official documents are spelled this way apart from my birth certificate. I didn’t follow any legal process for this but seem to have gotten away with it!
I am the researcher and compiler of genealogical facts, with some early help from my Uncle Jack (John Snowden 1922-2009), and author of this family history. This is therefore the only individual narrative written in the first person. The first version of my story was written in 2022, only months before the first of my own family’s genealogical events for some years – the marriage of Daisy & James. I intend to edit & maintain this family history to my dying day, and in doing so you can expect a random mixture of tenses, and perhaps more than a few contradictions. Here we go…
I was born in Scarborough hospital, delivered I was regularly reminded, by Colin Fletcher, husband of Margaret, father of Jill & Jonathan, GP partner of my father and later next door neighbour and newspaper fetcher for my parents, John & Moira. I was the youngest of 5 children, my 3 sisters 10-15 years older than me and my brother just under 3. Being the youngest can make you the one that gets plenty of attention and used to winning it, either by being cute, funny or performing in some form. I was no different from the stereotype, That said, at heart I’m an introvert, very happy and comfortable in my own skin and in my own company, absorbed in some project or other, often to the exclusion of others. This is sometimes not easy for others. My brother Phil, who I hope won’t be offended if I tell you, bullied me in our teenage years, in ways I know he now regrets. Discussing this in later adult life, he told me he found it difficult that I was so ‘self contained’. On a team-building workshop in my early work years, we had to give feedback to each of our colleagues. One of the team who I found to be loud, brash and a bit of a buffoon, declared that I was cold and aloof. I’m sure our descriptions of each other were revelations to each, shocked and hurt at the time, but for me at least taught a valuable lesson – we’re all different from each other and people see us from different perspectives, and therefore it’s worthwhile to look for the positive in everyone, including ourselves, and accept us for what we are. And that’s what I do with myself – I accept that I’m generally the quiet one who is fine chatting with anyone, but put me in a group and you might not notice I’m there. That is, until my early inbuilt instinct kicks in and I try and get a laugh. Aligned with my self containment is my independence – I have a strong desire for freedom, professionally, financially and recreationally. This allows me to make my own decisions, take my own risks and reap the rewards or suffer the consequences. Of course, this sounds selfish, and I’ve certainly had to adapt my self containment to manage family life. I think I’ve managed that but, like my colleague seeing me as aloof, those around me and perhaps those enduring this narrative will make their own judgments.
That’s enough about my character, it was not intended to be overly gratuitous, but to provide some context and framework into which my life events have unfolded.
One of my earliest memories, was from playgroup, so I’d have been 4 years old. It was autumn and I was in a group of a dozen or so cohorts, trudging down the side of middle lane in Hutton Buscel, steep drop to the road on my left, steep wall to my right with the graveyard behind it. The sound, sight and feeling of kicking through piles of copper leaves felt liberating. I still enjoy it now, as does Rachel. I imagine everyone does. I’ve no idea where we were going, but we were coming from playgroup in the village hall next to the church in Hutton Buscel. I don’t remember anything else about my time there, so its odd I remember this morning. And I’ve no idea why I went to playgroup in Hutton Buscel when we lived in West Ayton, the next village along, which I imagine had its own playgroup! Perhaps it was a love of and aspiration for the village that ultimately led my parents to move there after retirement some years later.
My next school was East Ayton primary. You can see several class photos in the gallery and in my archives. I can’t claim to have been a great scholar, but fortunately the formal 11+ exam required to enter some schools had recently been abolished when I got to that stage so I didn’t get to fail it. I was no reader. My mother was an avid reader and still is, but my father was of the view it was a waste of time and one should be productive at all times. It’s a stance I’ve managed to shake off over the years and I do now enjoy reading, although I also like to be productive. Fortunately, in addition to great stories, there are lots of non-fiction books about being productive!
I was a bit of a class clown at school, often making wise cracks and witty one liners. I was friendly with everyone, but I was close friends with very few. Much the same as today, and consistent with self contained Iain – I just don’t need to invest that much of my time with anyone, I’ve got too many other things to do and not enough time. That said, I was good friends with Alan Crawshaw, a fair haired taller boy from East Ayton. We used to sneak off to his house at lunchtime, age 10, and he’d have a pint of homebrew lager and we’d play with our action men in his garden – a strange mix. I was at least mildly wounded when a new boy Daryl joined the class and Alan dumped me as his best friend in favour of the new boy, presumably he was happy to have a lunchtime beer as well. I felt let down and I suspect that’s left me with a trust issue as far as friends are concerned – why invest so much time if they then let you down?
I had several other friends back in those primary school days, but several not from my class. Sean McLaren from a few doors down, son of the NFU Insurance salesman, famously brought the dining room curtains down at West Acres whilst swinging on them doing a Tarzan impression. He also, less famously and perhaps a secret only revealed now, stabbed Phil in the leg with a sheaf knife. An accident, we were whittling twigs into spears, when the knife slipped and stabbed him. Phil covered with a story about barbed wire, and I’m not sure whether the truth came out back then.
We had a real outdoors freedom that most children don’t get today. The world has changed for sure, not all for the good. Phil & I, with various combinations of friends, would disappear for many hours at a time, cycling miles to the ‘wilderness’, make fires, build dens, steal apples, muck around by the river or the weir. A sense of freedom and adventure I’ve carried with me and yearned after since, and in fairness, I’ve managed to maintain to a reasonable degree. Phil & I would also spend hours indoor when the weather was less favourable – making lego houses with fancy layouts and and batman style garages for our sporty cars. We were dreaming of our lives to come, though we maybe didn’t realise it at the time. We also built elaborate model railways, with flyovers & tunnels and little villages and stations and lights that came on and off. At least that’s how I remember it. And we’d play Scalectrix car racing. We had a tennis court in the garden, a horse to ride if we wanted (we never did till the girls left home), 5 acres of fields and garden with many hiding places, a zip wire and swing, and caring parents who always wanted the best for us.
I remember listening to music with my mum on the lounge hi-fi, sorting through the window seat cupboards while my father was at Rotary Club on a Wednesday night, watching a film (often a Western), or sitting at the kitchen table while she made tea. Mince, potatoes & steamed veg were a particular favourite, and the arrival of a deep fat fryer set a new era of fresh chips. Which coupled with the fish man delivering to the door mid week, was a great combo. My mum was always in charge of discipline and making sure we got on with our homework. And she’d be a support on humanities and languages, but when it came to maths and science, they were the domain of my father. As was the dishing out of ‘elevated’ discipline, although with the threat of ‘wait till your father gets home’ there was rarely a need for further punishment.
With my Dad, I remember lunch at 1pm in the school holidays when he’d cross the lawn from his surgery to have a bowl of soup and a sandwich (much the same lunch as 30 years after retirement), sitting in the passenger seat on a visit to a patient in the middle of nowhere, often Lord Derwent or Lord Downe or at the other extreme one of the gypsy encampments on his patch.
I also remember many rounds of golf at Ganton, Wednesday or Friday lunchtime group, often partnered with a group of aging men and making adult conversation as we trudged round, picking up whenever we bacame a hindrance to the speed of play. I played in many competitions back then which continued through senior school and into 6th form – runner up in the Lord Hawke trophy (where I won a suitcase and had to make a speech, one of the scars that follows me today), Presidents day and several other club competitions. I also later played in a national VW-sponsored competition but didn’t get far, but I did achieve a steady handicap of 11, with an all time best score of 73 at North Cliff, something like 6 over par. We also used to play snooker on the kitchen table, a Riley slate bed table later passed on to Eric, with a removable top used for everyday kitchen dining & homework. And chores – I never complained about gardening though I have to confess I didn’t and don’t enjoy it to this day. I like the idea of a big garden but I have too many other things I like to do that would be overtaken by cutting, mowing, planting and reaping. Not for me. In this and several other regards, I take after my mother rather than my father.
A good friend from along Pickering Road, Bernhard Jaragui, one of 6 vegetarian kids who I think was generally considered “weird” back then (perhaps we are today, also being a largely vegan family). Not just the diet, but he played armies with little painted soldiers – warhammer – and Dungeons & Dragons. I visited a few times but it wasn’t a long friendship. But then I bumped into him in Ilkley, 30 years later, where it turned out he lived, and we’ve since met numerous times and been out to the pub together.
I was also friends with Iona Bratby who lived next door to Colin Fletcher, just along Pickering Road. She was tiny, wore thick glasses, but was good fun. I lost contact with her when I went to senior school at Scalby, and she, along with almost all of my classmates went to the normal, but lesser, intake school at Raincliffe. Imagine my surprise then 40 years later when I was consulting at the Co-op head office, walking down a corridor, when a voice said “is that Iain Spence from West Acres, West Ayton?”. It took me a moment to work it out but there was Iona – what a small world! She reminded me how we both learned to play trombone together with Mr Blenkiron, the visiting music teacher – my arms were not long enough to reach the low notes so I’d attached a straightened out coat hanger to the slider so I could slide it further out. Trombone wasn’t for me back then so I moved on to trumpet.
So I’m sure its clear from all of this, that I had a very lucky and happy early life. I’ve not mentioned my sisters to this point. Being 10 years older, they were doing teenage things, getting boyfriends, pushing boundaries in a very normal way, and facing the wrath of my father as a consequence. I can’t say that I was aware of, or witness to these battles, but I understand that they took place and that it was a different path at that time for the girls. That said, by the time I was 3, Sue had already headed off to University with Tricia and Mandy only another 3 to 5 years after that.
So I only really remember small things – making cups of tea for Mandy while she revised, and getting a lift with her ‘boyfriend’ of the time, Paul Sleighthome from next door, to the Sherburn Brass band rehearsals every Tuesday evening. He’d race there in an old car at as close to 90 mph as he could muster round the bends of the tiny country lanes, we’d then sit for an hour or two with me on 5th cornet pretending to play a jolly good marching number, after which we’d reverse the adrenaline-filled ride home in the dark. Fortunately we both lived into adulthood. It might also have been Mandy that taught me to knit, and to sew, I’m not sure. Not an alpha male pastime I know, but entirely in character and very enjoyable. In my case, it was to good use making clothes, scarves and repairs to my teddy bear, Paddington, a hand-me-down from Aunty Bessie via Sue, that now sits with the same worn clothes on my chest of drawers in Ilkley, more than 80 years after his beginnings. Poor Paddington was more than once flung from a bedroom window requiring stitches as a result! I’m not sure who was the culprit, I think most of my siblings take pride in claiming it was them. It was a fine line though, as I would often make parachutes out of paper or cloth and throw an action man out to time its descent, much like the queen and 007 arriving at the London Olympics. But throwing Paddington out without a parachute was definitely crossing the line.
With Tricia, I remember lying on the lounge floor, being tickled to within an inch of my life. “Yes-ter-day, no to-day….”, me tickled from above, then tickled in the air, maybe even swung around, possibly even knocking over a lamp as things went too far. It was always good fun though.
With Sue, I sadly have no real memories from my early days, she was not around much as I’ve said. I remember visiting her in London in later years, wide eyed being driven along the embankment at night with bright lights all around. And looking down at Queens tennis club from her flat window, now no doubt worth the price of a Yorkshire stately home! And the return journey up the M1, dealing with a road rage man that didn’t like being overtaken by a young woman – Sue laughing raucously at him which only made him worse, to the point he tried for a few scary moments to ram us off the road.
I guess it was by any standard a pretty idyllic and privileged early childhood. And then things changed. Not quickly, not terribly, but gradually and imperceptibly, day by day, week by week and year by year, as life does.
The start of the change was, like many kids, a move of school. My primary school friends and I parted company, as I went to a better school than them, or at least that’s how it was perceived. I moved on without much of a thought and left them behind, or maybe it was vice versa. Either way, it was a pattern that has followed me through the decades – I work somewhere or do a hobby with vigour, making friends and relationships which are forgotten shortly after the particular activity ends. I’ve never thought it a problem, but I can see its different for plenty of other people. Like my brother Phil, for example, who is still close friends with the mates he had at school, going on holiday together and visiting each other. The very thought of that causes me mild social anxiety – I don’t know why but I’m not inclined to change it!
I quickly made new friends and school mates at Scalby School. My music stepped up a gear. The school band had plenty of trumpet players but no tuba player, so I stepped into the gap and got an immediate place in the school concert band, and with it a regular Saturday morning practice and a public concert at least once a month. I was also still playing for Sherburn band and was encouraged to join Scarborough Brass Band, which layered on more performances including opening the hugely popular Scarborough Cricket festival. I wasn’t a particularly good player but I was all they had.
Having given up grades at level 5, I was invited to join the Eastern Area Schools Youth (EASY) band which had a great reputation, drawing talent from all over Yorkshire. Concerts multiplied, including tours to Lancashire and London, and a visiting tour from Texas. I have a TV recording from the Schools Prom at the Royal Albert Hall, me at the back, face poking out from behind my tuba. I also have lots of other memories of concerts at Wembley arena, the Barbican, Queen Elizabeth Hall and many others. One of my favourites, probably because it was witnessed by my parents who talked about it for decades to follow, was a solo performance of Herbie Flowers’ Tuba Smarties at the Scarborough Theatre in the round where I walked down the isles between the audience down on to the stage, all the while playing the light hearted tune and concluding to rapturous applause. Or at least that’s how I remember it! Not bad for an introvert anyway.
One of my school band friends was a euphonium player called Sean Foy. Sean had an interest in magic, as I did, and we made plans to compare tricks.
We started meeting each weekend at each others houses. One of the highlights was Sunday lunch at his with enormous Yorkshire Puddings and onion gravy, after which we’d make props and work up routines. We then joined Scarborough Circle of Magicians, a local offshoot of the magic circle and set up the junior division as founder members. A monthly meeting with visiting magicians showing their routines and lessons on technique led to us being taken under the wing of a local magician “Uncle Les”. We each had a weekly lesson, and I remember being dropped off at his bungalow in Cayton, aptly named Abra Nook for lessons on entertaining an audience. Sean and I continued building our act and doing small shows to family and the occasional Magic Circle group or party. The whole thing culminated in us winning the Young Entertainer of the Year award at the YMCA theatre in Scaborough, not too long after which things started to wane. Sean was always the outgoing one with the patter, I was always much happier in the background, or at least the strait guy in a duo, or as it turned out in my work life, the consultant who made the client look good whilst quietly making things work well, happily going unrecognised but always rewarded!
In the early 1980s my father bought a computer. It was one of the first computers a normal person could buy, as it was one of the first that didn’t require a dedicated room and direct connection to the National Grid electricity to make it work! A Sinclair ZX81 was a tiny, but beautifully designed machine, with plastic keypad, 1 Kb of memory, no external storage to store anything, and an output to the TV. Quite rightly, my Dad, who himself has always had a passion for gadgets, and likes nothing better than shopping for ones he didn’t know he needed, spotted the opportunity that computers would one day have. For me it quickly became an obsession that has led to a life long career and passion. Programming allowed me to express my creativity without human interaction – the computer would do exactly as I instructed it, but I’d need to learn how it worked and how to communicate with it. The ZX81 led to a Spectrum, this time with the ability to store programs on a tape recorder, then onto an Amstrad with a floppy disc, and then to a Commodore Pet with a bigger disc and a built in screen, then to an IBM. And the pattern of upgrading computers has continued ever since – I can’t remember how many I’ve owned, nor how many tens of thousands of lines of code I’ve written over the years, it continues to the present day.
During all of the Scalby School years, my magic and music commitments grew, and my desire to spend every waking hour writing programs also grew and between these things it left very little time for much else. I had other friends unrelated to these – Douglas Whitfield from Scalby had an amazing model train set and built a canal in his garden. Richard Howard (who I’m still friends with) introduced me to cricket and we’d play snooker at the snooker club on Queen Street in Scarborough. And I had a number of other friends, male and female, who would come in and out of my life. There were several girls who I think would have been willing girlfriends but I was plucking up courage to ask out a flute player from the band, which when it can and was rejected, crushed me for several years, such that my lack of girlfriend until University left my parents questioning whether their son might be gay! Fortunately for our kids, there is no such pressure to have boyfriends and girlfriends nowadays.
And whilst all of this was happening, the days of me playing with Phil in our previous ways, waned. He had moved on as well – music from King Crimson and others filled the attic, he took up guitar and joined a band, stepped up the socialising, and discovered drinking and girlfriends. A very different path, at least superficially, from the one I was one. And I didn’t really notice but perhaps he did. And maybe that’s the self containment he told me he found difficult, us each getting on with our own lives in isolation. Whatever, the cause, I found myself at home with my brother, parents out at rotary parties or other social events, and often me locked in a bathroom or toilet with Phil on the other side of the door trying to get through it to thump me. Not happy times. I remember one such event and my parents trying to resolve it with punishment, ending in an ugly brawl on the floor between my brother and father, something best forgotten but scarred in the memory tissue, and perhaps why I now find raised voices in an agument so difficult. I’m not sure things got better after that, but eventually Phil left for University, I went to 6th form and peace reigned. My own music evolved to playing the drums in a band at 6th form. I still have an electric drum kit in the cellar and occasionally give it a thrash. I also spent more time at the snooker hall with pals and took to driving 4 of us each week for a night out. And my other music bands continued too.
My parents always had paid help at home. Mavis was the cleaner, there wore others and there’s Jan since, but Mavis was my era, and I went to her funeral a decade or more ago. Mr Ruston, Mr Purnell and nowadays Sam were the gardeners. Mr Purnell would come in at lunchtime for his instructions, which would be delivered in a broad Yorkshire accent by Doctor Spence, in order that they would be adequately understood. I remember Phil once using a similar accent to mimic one of the local farmers and getting a severe reprimand for it. And Sue Charlton was my babysitter. She’d come on an evening when I was 10-14 perhaps, and we’d watch a film and always have a hot chocolate half way through. She was a lovely person. When I was 18 and at 6th form, my parents went away for 2 weeks on holiday, somewhere nice, Egypt maybe. I went to stay with Sue & Peggy, her housemate, in their house on Princess Street in Scarborough. This started my love affair with Scarborough old town, which has culminated with our own 2nd home there. The sound of seagulls, the old architecture, the smell of the sea and sometimes fish & chips, the hustle & bustle, and the early morning walks along the seafront as things started opening up. It was at a similar time that I got my first paid job at Corrigans amusements. Having spent a week at Easter for 10 hours a day and been given £10, I decided to seek alternative methods of finance. The main one being writing computer programs – I used to write games and attempt to get them published. After several attempts, Ghouls Galore, a multi-room game not dissimilar to pacman, was accepted as part of a games compendium. Unfortunately, the publisher went bust before launch and I heard no more about it. Until, a very similar game came out the next year – perhaps that was called pacman, I can’t remember now!
One of the other adults who I’d spend a lot of time with was Sylvia Thomas, the nurse at the surgery. I’d go over most evenings to fetch the keys back, but she’d still be cleaning. This could go on for hours, she was clearly a cleanaholic. Her husband, Marshall, would turn up and the 3 of us would chat until the late evening when eventually she was ready to leave. Marshall clearly had enough eventually, as they split up some years later. Long before that, however, I did stay a week at their house in Hutton Buscel, directly opposite Moorfields where my parents now live, whilst my Mum and Dad were enjoying another long-haul trip on their own.
I never really knew my grandfathers, being dead before or around my birth, but I remember my grandmothers well. We’d visit Nanna Spence every week in Bridlington and she’d drive her little car over to Ayton to visit, and when it was time to leave I’d go and wave her out the gate on to the main road. Eventually she moved into Combe Hay old folks home in Scarborough and we visited her until her death at age 101. I talk more about he in her own section. Granny Snowden was a less frequent visit, but we still saw plenty of her, at her house in York rather than at ours in Ayton. She reminded me of my mother now, similar look with a big smile and glint in her eye, slightly mischievous looking! And both are or were pretty hard of hearing. At least Granny Snowden wore a hearing aid, which in those days would squeal frequently in an alarming way until the volume was turned down to remove the feedback.
Having passed my GCSEs with a smattering of ABCs, and managing a ABB in Chemistry, Maths and Physics at A Level and an E in General studies, having spent those lessons learning about bonsai or at the snooker hall, I was accepted onto a degree in Computer Science and Accounting at Manchester University. My other option was software engineering at Imperial College. My father, probably wisely, suggested that if I was adamant I wasn’t going to be a doctor, I should at least get a business degree rather than just a computer science one, just in case the computer thing turned out to be a fad. Of course it didn’t turn out to be a fad, but the combination of technology with finance has indeed proven beneficial.
And so I went to Manchester, Owens Park, Tree D hall where I spent the next 3 years, fully catered without having to move into a student house! Those were the days. The first year was spent messing around, water fights in the hall, generally causing havoc & mayhem, but not usually the cause if it. I also managed to get to many of my lectures and get my teeth into the basics of computer science.
The second year I met Rachel, and my life changed again. I’d actually had my first proper girlfriend, an American girl called Laurie. Her parents had divorced, which was not as common as it is today and she had home troubles as a result. I’m not sure we communicated very well and it didn’t survive long, because the girl in the room next door to hers was Rachel, an altogether more interesting prospect!
Rachel had an unconventional way about her, an attitude of I don’t care what anybody thinks, a passion for Lennin and socialism, a confidence that exceeded mine on the inside, and a love of travel and language. She liked all things Russion, including samovars and vodca, and that’s how we ‘got together’ over too many shots of vodca at a student hall party.
My studies undoubtedly suffered in my second year but it was well worth it as my relationship turned to love. Like anything worth having, its required work over the years, like a garden to be nurtured to bloom. But Rachel became and remained my soul mate, and I look forward to growing old together. Let’s face it, we’re well on our way. Challenges followed for sure. The relationship with her parents was not always smooth – she’s a fiercely independent person, as my sisters were, and all suffered the challenges of judgement and control in a male dominated society with post-Victorian values. Lets leave it at that.
Rachel studied for a 4 year Russian and German double honours degree, which required lengthy study periods in Russia and Germany. There was no internet at that time, no mobile phones, no emails. Our communication was by letter in the post or the occasional phone call where Rachel would have to queue up at a post office to make a short 2 minute phone call. If I was in, we would speak, if I was out we would not. I didn’t go out much as a result!
On her first trip to Germany, I went to visit in Heidelberg. One evening, as the sun was setting, and the Chinese tourists were taking the last of their scenic photos from Heidelberg castle, I dropped to one knee and proposed marriage, whipping out an engagement ring in my shaky hand. Fortunately, the answer was yes, and we celebrated with applause and photos, or at least that’s how I imagine it now. I don’t think we got the delighted response we’d hoped for from our families, but I guess we were very young, only 21 at that point and Rachel still had a year or more of university to complete.
Rachel’s final placement abroad was to Moscow and St Petersburg. I didn’t visit, it was still very much the cold war and normal people didn’t visit the soviet union. We’d both visited Berlin together a year or so before on an inter-rail round trip, one of our highlight trips together, seeing the divide of two worlds by a wall that symbolised and emphasised different ideologies, but ultimately was removed by human relationships and a desire for peace.
I wanted to surprise Rachel on her return and at the same time give us both a treat. We’d by this time enjoyed plenty of trips away together in addition to our round Europe tour. Camping in the Lake District and hiking in the fells was a particular favourite and it was great that we both clearly liked the freedom and outdoor life that gave us. So, I perused Autotrader magazine, made phone calls, visited potential purchases, and parked up at Manchester Airport to meet her off the plane from USSR. I’ll always remember her grin when she saw the surprise – a 1972 K reg VW T2 camper van, in bright orange. Registered, of course, in her name. That was to be the vehicle she drove round in for several years, backwards and forwards to her work at school as well as for trips away, only going after packing up a few months after Daisy was born and we’d moved to West Yorkshire. At time of writing, we’re on our 3rd van which we hope will get even more us than the previous ones.
Rachel’s Younger Years
Iain & Rachel’s Life Together
Building a life and family 1990-2022
It was summer 1989 when Rachel returned from Russia. We were married the following April. The original plan was for a large wedding in summer 1990, marquis on the lawn, more than a hundred guests, big church affair. Non of which Rachel & I wanted, we’d have been very happy getting quietly married at Gretna Green! So eventually, we pulled the plug, booked Manchester registry office for 2 weeks ahead, invited close family and Rachel’s mum organised flowers and food, photographer etc. And that’s what we did.
Much more our style – quiet and understated and with little fuss. I’m sure several people were upset by it and didn’t approve, but sometimes you have to do what’s right for yourselves and suffer the consequences. We managed not to fall out with anyone who wanted and was able to come did do, and I think we had a very nice wedding day. I remember the relief when it was done though, and we jumped into our decorated Triumph Acclaim and drive off down Pool Bank, and through Otley on our way to a week’s hiking in the Lake District. Not in the van on this occasion, I’d got a last minute apartment at the Newby Bridge Hotel, cheap & cheerful, just what we needed given we didn’t have much money and what we did have was borrowed.
I’d bought a flat by then with a deposit borrowed from my parents and a mortgage of 3.5 time salary, the repayments of which would skyrocket threefold in the financial crisis of 1990, pushing us into significant debt. I’d been sponsored during my degree by Ford Motor Company, and worked a few months each year in Brentwood in Essex, so was used to living away from home. But having my own place was a new experience, more freedom and independence, though tinged with worry that we really couldn’t afford it. My job after leaving University was as a trainee Chartered Accountant with Ernst & Young in Manchester, and I was nearly 2 years into it when we got married. Rachel still had a student flat for her last year but rarely saw it as we effectively lived together at our flat – 64 Woodlawn Court in Whalley Range. It was at that time the red light district of Manchester and not the best place to live, but we liked it, and appreciated that we had our pwn place.
Rachel graduated shortly after our wedding and started her PGCE course straight after, 12 months which led to a teaching job at Northenden Primary School. She was a natural teacher, loved the kids and they loved her. I’m sure she made a big difference to the lives of several of the kids there.
By 1992, we’d moved form the flat to a house in Chorlton, only a stones throw away, but a nicer area and amazingly a Victorian detached house. The only detached we’ve ever owned. It looked as if we might settle, but we had many things we wanted to do with our lives. We had a yearning for travel still and fancied moving for a period of time to another country. Rachel of course, had done that as a child in the US. But yet we also wanted kids. We’d talked about having “lots” of kids, perhaps fostering them too. So much life ahead and so much to do with it.
Meanwhile, I’d finished my training and was now a fully fledged Chartered Accountant, and working in the Corporate Recovery team at Ernst & Young, my salary having increased in 3 years from £9,000 to over £20,000. I enjoyed my work, and Rachel enjoyed hers, yet for me to progress further in my current job, I needed to take additional Insolvency Practitioner exams, and frankly I was now done with studying and was now ready to “live”. I’d investigated and requested a transfer to Vancouver office, which had come back saying they had no opportunities there, but could offer me Melbourne and had someone there who wanted an exchange over here. Two years I recall. So we started the process – Ernst & Young were going to take on our house and rent it out and we’d move to Melbourne, Rachel would get a teaching job there, all would be good. But then at the 11th hour, or perhaps only the 6th in reality, E&Y said they couldn’t take on the house and we’d need to let it out ourselves. About the same time, with the backdrop of my reticence to the point of extreme stress at doing more exams, I was approached with a job opportunity at Asda. £26,000 a year, share options, a car and a relocation package. In the months prior to this, Rachel had also become pregnant. Her mother’s health had also deteriorated. There were now several reasons not to move to Melbourne but move to West Yorkshire. I remember us going to look around the area at places we might live if we did move to Yorkshire. We drove out to Ilkley Moor, sat at the Cow & Calf and looked down at the town and said “this would be a wonderful place to live”. The next week, I had an offer of a job and the decision was made, we were going to West Yorkshire.
Daisy was born in October 1992. I’ll cover the kids stories separately, but within 3 weeks, we were packing up our Manchester house, Rachel had found a house to rent in Burley-in-Wharfedale and we moved in time for me starting my new job. It was a tiny house, 7 St Michael’s Way, and with a new baby, new job, new house in a village we didn’t really want to be, it was a tough few months, particularly for Rachel. We’d have night after sleepless night, walking the buggy round the streets trying to lull Daisy off to sleep, or dancing to the music of Disney songs. No wonder she wouldn’t sleep!
We looked round many houses in Ilkley in the following months, driving round in my large automatic executives car! Finally we moved into 2 Bath Street where we’ve lived for 30 years now. We love it here, have built and brought up our family here, and will always call it our home.
The following 10 years saw a clear delineation of Rachel and my responsibilities in a quite old fashioned and stereotypical way. I went out to work and built a career. Rachel stayed at home and brought up the family. My working hours were long, though I always tried to be there for the kids occasions, parties, shows, assemblies and most of all holidays. Holidays have always been a big part of our lives and we’ve had a lot of them. Despite this, I was pretty ambitious, always asking for a promotion and pay rise. And I got them, many times over the course of 10 years as I moved through the management layers taking on responsibility for large teams of up to 200 people in finance, audit and parts of IT. I also was made responsible for some big projects, like setting up Asda Banking, and setting up Asda.com, their home delivery service which we still use today, having been customer number 1 back in 2001. During this period, my salary increased several times over, I got some large share option payments and we gained financial security, paying off our mortgage and debts before we were 30. We were very lucky to be in the right place at the right time.
During this period, Rachel had gone on to give birth to our 6 wonderful children, who I’ll talk about separately. She’d attended many toddler groups and built up a strong support network of friends with similar aged kids. Summers were great fun, playing out in the garden at home with water, sand, climbing frames and slides. I’m sure the kids have great memories, and we have some wonderful home videos of the many happy times we captured. Holidays were often camping. Noja in northern Spain, Biarritz. Holiday camps in Croatia, with stops on the way in the Alps. Cycling round the Polders in Belgium, or along the coast in Holland. Gites in France. We were very lucky, we’d certainly make the most of the 5 weeks per year whilst I was at Asda. What we didn’t do was fly anywhere or stay in hotels. With 8 of us, it would be hard work and stressful and disproportionately expensive. So rental houses and camping were our staple holidays and we loved them.
Rachel’s parents lived nearby and would have the kids to visit regularly, though by the turn of the Millennium, which we spent with our friends, the Bearparks, Rachel’s mum’s health was deteriorating quickly and she was no longer fully mobile. Around this time also, my work had taken a turn in a different direction. Asda had been bought by huge US retailer Wal-Mart and I’d been called upon to lead a lot of the projects to integrate the business. I spent time away in Arkansas, which in itself was great experience and an enjoyable change of scenery though it was additionally hard work for Rachel when I wasn’t even there to help at nights or the weekends. I remember, though not as clearly as she does I’m sure, one time when several of the kids got ill with a severe stomach bug and she was left to deal with it alone. And another occassion, which may have been at the same time, when a fuel crisis resulted in no petrol at the pumps which added more stress to her responsibilities for the family. Fortunately, the Bearparks were there to help out and give her some of their medics fuel allowance!
Having completed the Wal-Mart integration, and finished my setting up Asda.com, it became clear that there would be no more opportunities for me at Asda. I was offered a relatively uninspiring role alongside a financial alternative to leave. Most of the senior team had a similar conversation and took the money. I did too, and left with enough money to see us fine for a year or more. This is the way the corporate world works but it comes with mixed emotions as suddenly you’re out in the big wide world without a big job, salary or sense of identity you had the previous month. Our friend Sue Sutherland had died of pancreatic cancer a few months before and we’d looked after her 2 boys on and off. In that period, I’d reached the conclusion that my time on earth was to be valued more than money and I would never again work a full time job. It would be time to set up on my own and get a better work life balance. And to a large extent, that’s how its worked out. At this point, I’ve been self employed, director of the company that Rachel and I jointly own, for the last 20 years and in that time, I’ve rarely worked more than 9 months of the year. We’ve had most school holidays together, summer holidays where we’ve traveled in Europe for up to 6 weeks at a time, and had 5 or 6 holidays away each year. So I’d say its been a great move but certainly a risk that many people would not take. Thanks to Asda we had enough of a safety net to allow us to take that risk.
People, including my own family, have often asked what I “actually” do for work. I try to explain, but people usually glaze over. I’m best described as a business consultant or management consultant – I find out what organisations are doing wrong, make recommendations to fix it, and then help them do that. Its a combination of skills I’ve evolved over the years – project management, business analysis, finance, leadership and team management, IT. I don’t like to be pigeon-holed so that I can adapt to what needs to be done, otherwise its just another job. Sometimes I do a recognizable job in a firm for a temporary period to help sort out their team – IT Director, Managing Director or similar. I’ve worked with lots of large firms – WHSmith, M&S, Co-op, Morrisons, E.ON, Freeman & Gratten and many more. A lot of it has been in retail, and the business was called Retail Change Ltd at that time.
About 10 years ago, as the kids all completed the primary school stage and the older ones started going to University, Rachel started to work out what the next phase would hold. She decided to retrain as a relationship counselor, and set about a qualification, underpinned with work for Relate. Once qualified she worked part time at Relate whilst considering branching out into private practice. It was then that Leeds Relationship Counselling was born. She set about this with characteristically professional rigour and vigour and its taken off. She contains her work to 2 days a week but is flat out in that period. As this shaped up, I decided to reduce the number of big client projects I’d do, focusing only on work that I could commute to and not doing long term full time client work. We’d made enough money from our work to buy several rental houses in Ilkley, Skipton, Silsden and more latterly in Scarborough, along with our own holiday home in Scarborough. The upshot, is that we’d built up passive income that allows us to reduce the hours we work and still have enough money to live on. A lesson for my descendants that my own great grandfather Spence and several Spences before him handed down to me via my father.
As each of our children turned 16 and completed their GCSEs, I created a tradition where they and I would have a trip together or an activity. Daisy and Tilly chose Paris, Jemima Palma, Phoebe a Llama hotel in the Lakes, and Dudley skydiving in Lincolnshire. For Josh, I bought a flying experience in a microlight. He was an air cadet and flew gliders, so it seemed like a relevant and fun thing to do. Unfortunately, our attempt near Cambridge was cancelled at the last minute due to windy conditions so I re-booked it near York and on the allotted day, we turned up for his trial flight. He went up first and enjoyed it, I went second and loved it. The sense of freedom was absolutely wonderful and I signed up for lessons there and then.
And so began my obsession with flying, which at time of writing is 10 years old and over 1000 hours pilot in command. In 2015, I took a year out of consulting work and trained as a flying instructor, gaining my rating on first attempt and securing a job as Assistant Flying Instructor at Rufforth. I’d never intended it to become a job, it was really a way of improving my flying skills, but I enjoyed it anyway, but after several months reached the conclusion that it would never pay the bills and that doing your passion as a job was not quite the same as doing your passion for fun. I wrote an article for the Yorkshire post about experience which you can read in the gallery. My flying adventures continue, each year I do a round Britain charity flight with a group of like minded pilots and have made the channel crossing a few times to the continent. I hope it will continue to provide safe enjoyment for many more years to come.
This is now my 55th year, and in just 5 months, I’ll be able to start taking my self invested pension fund income. Whether that classifies me as retired I don’t know. I’m not sure I’ll ever declare retirement, I’ll just continue to make money in different ways. Houses, odd bits of consulting perhaps, algorthmic day trading, pension fund investments, who knows what will come next. The Algo trading I mention is writing programs that buy & sell stock market indices. It comes with a level of risk but I don’t invest too much and my record so far has been pretty successful so its now only trading the gains its already made. Dudley is following the same path, and we co-write software which is very rewarding, both financially and otherwise.
My father always says the Spence’s are entrepreneurs. I’d say the same. And I can see our next generation taking it to the next level, starting up businesses alongside other jobs, developing other passive income streams as well. To all my decendents reading this – be prepared to take risks, or grab opportunities, and if you can avoid relying 100% on a job for your future, you won’t regret it.
Other lessons as I draw to a close for now – don’t fall out with your family. Never say things that can’t be taken back. Friends do come and go but your family will always be there unless you actively push them away. Work hard but not too hard. Maintain perspective. Plan, keep lists, to remind yourself not only of what to do tomorrow, but why you’re doing it.
That’s it for now. If you got this far, thank you. I wish everyone would write about themselves and their life from their own perspective. If you’d like to write a piece to add to our family history archive, do it – and if you’re happy for me to include it alongside everything else, that would be a truly wonderful gift to future generations. Without that, all I can offer on your behalf is a bunch of research facts, some of which will be incorrect, and with nothing of the context around which these facts and events occurred, and nothing about the real essence of who you are as a person. I hope you got a little bit of that from me.
The next phase 2022-
To be added to as time goes on, save me re-writing the above …
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More Photos, Documents and Memorabilia
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Iain & Rachel’s Family
Daisy Spence & James Snook
Daisy & James were married on 21 May 2022, on what turned out to be a sunny and warm spring day. James had proposed to Daisy shortly before Christmas 2020, the end of a grueling year of the Covid 19 pandemic, during which Daisy & James were often isolated from others in the family as a result of government-imposed “lockdowns”, intended to halt the spread of the virus. So it was a wonderfully positive and exciting end to an otherwise difficult year and provided the happy distraction and anticipation that carried us all through the lockdowns that continued during the following 12 months. And so by the time of the wedding in May 2022, the extended Spence & Snook families were more than ready for a party and came together in force to celebrate this great day.
The marriage ceremony was held at Skipton registry office at 2pm and was attended by almost 100 guests, including Sue & Pete from Australia, Tricia & Javi from Spain, and other aunts, uncles & cousins from around the UK. Daisy wore a beautiful white wedding dress, with a pretty bouquet of flowers (later dried & framed), and was accompanied to the ceremony by me (Iain) and her 3 bridesmaid sisters Tilly, Jemima & Phoebe, in coordinated dresses. We arrived in our suitably ribboned family red Toyota Prius car, while James arrived with his best man and friend George Sanders in his Mercedes.
All the formalities and paperwork complete, it was time to walk down the “Aisle” of the registry office, which we did to the traditional wedding march anthem, the 3 bridesmaids first, Daisy & I following, the photographer and registrar waiting for us all at the front, along with James, George and a gathering of smiling faces. It was one of life’s lovely moments that I will always cherish.
After the service was complete, and the happy couple successfully married, we all made our way to the Ilkley Vaults, where the upstairs function room was set up for an afternoon and evening of celebration and welcome drinks were awaiting outside in the sunshine. It was great to catch up with so many of relatives and friends and share this happy time. Speeches followed, several of us on the top table sitting apprehensively for our turns to do the occasion justice and passing on the alcohol until we’d sat down! I opened proceedings as Father of the Bride, James followed as Groom, Daisy’s friend Phoebe Weaver then talked about Daisy and George wrapped up with his Best Man speech. And then, we let our hair down (metaphorically in my case), and danced to the live band’s classic covers until the early hours.
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You can see the many videos and photos of the wedding in the link below.
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After just a few months following the wedding came the happy news that Daisy has expecting a baby. There was a lot of excitement in the build-up to the big arrival which came on 6 April 2023. Daisy’s labour started the previous day, and at 2am on Thursday 6th she and James headed into the maternity ward at Airedale Hospital, 5 minutes from their Silsden home and the scene of several of her siblings’ births. Made comfortable with the aid of an epidural, the birth proceeded steadily and without incident, the final delivery assisted with a vacuum pump. Baby Harry Jordan Snook, born 12pm midday on 6th April 2023, weighed 6lb and 14oz, and was as Daisy was first to say, was the cutest baby!
Daisy stayed in the hospital for a couple more days, whilst Harry got used to feeding, and they were suitably equipped to begin their new life together at home, 25 Hothfield Street, Silsden.
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You can see the many videos and photos of Harry’s early life in the link below.
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After around 18 months, by which time the adorable Harry was walking around happily, practicing a few choice words of family names and a good supply of animals sounds, he became the delighted big brother of baby Jake Finley Spence, born in the same Airedale Hospital as Harry, a little heavier at 7lb 1oz, at 8.20pm on 23 November 2024, the same birthday as Great Uncle Phil Spence, and Alexander the Great!
The birth was quick and without complications and Daisy returned home with Jake the following day to meat the wider family.
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Joshua Spence
Tilly Spence
Dudley Spence
Jemima Spence
Jemima’s life story will go here.
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You can see the wealth of art that Jemima has created over the years below.
In 2024, Jemima appeared on Sky TV’s Portrait Artist of the Year. You can watch the episode, a behind the scenes video along with many photos from the shooting below.
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