MY DAD WOULD HAVE BEEN 100 YEARS OLD TODAY & HERE IS THE TRUE STORY ABOUT WHEN HE LOST HIS TEETH AT SWANAGE ON HOLIDAY...

Lost Teeth

A warm Swanage beach and a calm sea

And I was using a ball to catch and throw

With my father, standing waist deep

In the cooling water, its tide gentle and slow…

I threw the ball once more for him to field

But he froze, statuesque, staring down

In horror, then he beckoned me forth

With a grief stricken, panicky frown…

“My teeth!” he yelled, “…I’ve dropped my teeth…”
He quickly motioned for me to submerge

And scour the sea-bed for his dentures,

As his desperation was seen to surge…

I dived down and searched, then searched again

But the dentures had disappeared beneath

The sand and all I think of was a pilchard swimming nearby,

Wearing my father’s false teeth…

The underwater swimming was all to no avail however,

Though he urged me to dive down again and seek;

Distraught, he soon began to realise

That he’d be without dentures for the rest of the week…

The dentures had been fixed to a metal plate,

Which in the cold sea had likely contracted,

Loosening it so that it dropped easily from his mouth

Whilst catching the tennis-ball, distracted…

His mood was sour, despite still having lots of his own teeth,

However, the following morning my innocent mum

Gave him a thick crust of toast for his breakfast,

At which he was totally struck dumb…

We did spend the next day on the beach,

Despite the temper my father might wield,

So I wandered off to borrow a mallet to use,

To thump down the poles of our wind-breaking shield…

It was during my return that I spotted some folks

Near the shallows and skimming a disc;

My attention was drawn though to one boy in the group,

And realised that I must take a risk…

“Look, I’ve found someone’s teeth!” he exclaimed,
Holding them up to show the fathers and lads;

I strode across smoothly and whipped the plate from his hand,

Saying “Thanks a lot, those are my dad’s…”

Incredulous, the male group simply gawped,

As I strolled away knowing they would watch;

I approached my father and called out to him:

“Dad, I’ve found your teeth. Here, catch…”

After twenty-four hours those teeth had washed up on the sand,

More unlikely than my father’s most ambitious wish;

I could only offer just one explanation:

That they hadn’t quite fitted the pilchard fish…

Dad took them back to the caravan that day,

And boiled them in a saucepan until he deemed them fit

To wear in Swanage for the rest of the week,

Except whilst he was sea-bathing, I’ll admit…

Pete Ray

ON MY 21st BIRTHDAY...

My father was born on 4th June, 1920 and thus would have been 100 years old today…

MY DAD WITH HIS MUM & TWO YOUNGER SISTERS, CONNIE & SHEILA...

When he returned home from that Swanage holiday, his dentist changed the type of plate that his few dentures were attached to.

ME WITH MY DAD & I LOOK A BIT FEARFUL.
NO CHANGE THERE...

He never really saw the funny side of it, probably because he had been the fall-guy. For once...

1993 & MY PARENTS' 50TH WEDDING ANNIVERSARY, IN MINWORTH...

AROUND 1970: MUM & DAD ON VILLA PARK'S HOLTE END WITH ME & ALSO BRIAN, MY MATE FROM SCHOOL...

THIS WAS A POSED IMAGE, CUZ MUM MOWED THE LAWNS...

DAD HEADING FOR HIS CHURCH WEDDING WITH THE BEST MAN, 1943...

MID 1960s, BIRDLIP HILL, GLOUCESTERSHIRE.
EN ROUTE TO A HOLIDAY IN PLYMOUTH.
(DAD, NATURALLY, WEARS A SUIT...)