Harry came out of the Air Force in February, 1949. His father hadn’t been out of the Navy long and after 30 years had difficulty settling down to civilian life. So Harry and I decided we would get married; we were both only twenty. He was five months older than I. So, on June 25th, 1949, we got married. It wasn’t a white wedding, much to my sorrow, but his sister’s husband had just died.
Harry went to work as a road analyst and we had one room in my mother’s flat. Harry managed to buy a motor bike and I was working on Blackheath at CBs, an exclusive deli. There was another girl there called Mavis whose boyfriend had a motor bike. So all four of us used to go all over the place – it was great fun.
Harry decided to go to night school. He left the analyst job and worked on radar machines for the government. He had done a one and a half year course in the Air Force which paid off. So he went to the polytechnic at night for his B.S. and M.S. In September of 1951 I discovered I was going to have a baby. We were quite comfortable at my mother’s, especially since while Harry was at school at night, I was able to spend time with my mum. She was still working. So in May 1952, our little daughter Deborah Anne arrived. I went to the Mothers and Baby home but they sent me to a beautiful mansion in Tonbridge Wells called Moatlands. It was as it sounded, a large white house surrounded with water with a bridge to the front entrance. It was wonderful weather. They put all the babies out in the sun. I was there for seventeen days in all. When we got home Harry’s mother, who used to rent out rooms, had a couple move out. So we moved from my mother’s to his, but we had a lot more room. Deborah was a beautiful baby. My mom bought the cot and pram. I was 23 when I had Deborah.
When Harry went to work in the dockyard for the government in the beginning of 1951, he met a young man called Tom Mann. Tom was a Christian and he preached the gospel to Harry for nine months. Harry would come home and read the Bible from cover to cover. His mother was very worried. There used to be a little man who came around selling muffins – he used to say “The end of the world is coming.” So Harry’s mother said, “Do you think he has religious mania?” Harry got saved and it was when I was first expecting Deborah. He preached to me and said it was as if a bright light would come out of the sky and would hit me (well, Harry’s salvation was rather spectacular). So here I was, waiting for this bolt of lightning that never came. After I had Deborah two of the nurses attending me were both Christians and they sang hymns and read the Psalms, which really helped.
When Deborah was five months, it seemed the only time alone I had was in the bathtub and I too accepted Jesus as my Savior. When I had worked I knew a real nice older couple who I knew were Christians – Mr. and Mrs. Ellis. Mrs. Ellis worked with me at the store and I would walk home with the two of them every night. He always joked with me. Well, after I had gotten saved, I met Mrs. Ellis while shopping. I said to her “Do you go to that church where you have to be saved?” By dinner time there was a knock at the front door; it was Mr. Ellis. We asked him in, rushing to take down all the baby napkins that were drying. He was thrilled to bits to hear we had both been saved. He invited us to go to his church, which was the Gospel Hall in Church Lane. One evening walking the baby out, we went past the Church. It had a notice outside telling the times of the week it was open. While we were looking, a voice said, “Are you interested, friends?” It was a dear Brother, Mr. Pope. We started to go to the evening service. We went for six months and they said “When are you going to be baptized?” So we were both baptized on a Sunday evening in 1953. Tom Mann and his wife were there to see us, and the next Sunday we went in the morning to the Breaking of Bread service.
