END OF AN ERA...

I have never really considered myself a royalist, but I feel a real sadness and sense of loss at the passing of Queen Elizabeth today. She always seemed a dedicated monarch with integrity, decency and grace. And despite her wealth and obviously elitist position, seemed to genuinely care about the people and situations she had to deal with in her long reign.

I was four years old when I watched her being crowned Queen, in 1952, live on a television set my father had constructed in the back garden outhouse of our home at 28, Conistone Crescent on Eastmoor Estate in Wakefield. Several of our neighbours were invited in to our front room to witness the Coronation broadcast as very few people owned television sets on our street. The flickering, fuzzy black and white images that appeared on the small cathode ray tube of Dad’s home made TV set were, to my four year old self, sometimes fascinating, sometimes boring, but I sensed the importance of the event. I can still hear the voice of Richard Dimbleby who was the BBC’s commentator for the broadcast. It all seemed so important and momentous. She seemed a quite young and not unattractive woman with a certain innocence and naivety but also with a strong resolve, (though I say that on reflection as I wouldn't have known how to put it in words at that time.)

Like most of us, my life has been accompanied by her long reign as Queen, (though I was born when her father was on the throne.) I've sometimes poked fun or poured scorn on the antics of the Royal Family, but always had respect for Queen Elizabeth. There always was something gently commanding, yet humble about her.

In more recent years I once, accidentally, saw the Queen in person when her car drove past me whilst I was walking in York. She apparently had attended an event at York Minster and a number of people had gathered to wave at her when she departed. I'd wondered why these people were standing on the pavement by the Minster, then saw why when the Queen’s car drove by. As she waved to the crowd, for a brief moment, her eyes met mine. It was a strange, almost eerie moment.

Now history changes and we are witness to it. We have a King, a man who, like myself, is 73, almost 74 years old. We were both born in 1948, only a couple of years after WW 2. My mother always liked to reminded me that Charles and I were born in the same year. So, I wish him well.

But it's truly the end of an era.

Rest in peace...