Bert Butters 1924-2010

The Lichfield Diocesan Mobile Belfry has now been pealed by all three of its sponsoring associations. In April 1999 a party was held to mark its tenth anniversary, and the Lichfield & Walsall Archdeaconries Society and the Shropshire Association each rang a peal. Unfortunately, the North Staffs Association lost their attempt on that day, but were able to put matters right on June 2nd. This peal was rung in memory of Bert Butters, whose generous support both during the belfry’s construction and more recently with maintenance has been of immense value. Bert died on March 25th, and at his funeral on April 1st Phil Gay gave the following address:

Something which has become increasingly apparent to me over years of attending funerals is that there is always something new to discover about people one thought one knew very well. It may come as a surprise to some of you that Bert was a bellringer, and that is how I first came to know him. One day in the early 1980s I received a phone call from the rector of Whitmore, the next village to Keele where I ring. He asked me to go and see whether the three bells in his church could be rung for a wedding. Although the connection was not immediate, that was how I became acquainted with Bert. Whitmore bells had been restored in 1953, so all that was needed to get them ringing was some relatively minor maintenance. A band from Keele rang for that wedding and several more, and I suggested to the rector that it might be a good idea to teach some parishioners to ring. He sent his son and another teenager, a lady from the congregation, and one of his churchwardens, Bert, who was in his late fifties at the time. All four took to ringing rather well, although twenty-five years later none of them still rings regularly. Bert was a dapper little man, very nimble and light on his feet, and it came as no surprise to me when I later discovered that he had been a keen ballroom dancer. In fact his first encounter with bells came one Christmas Eve when he and Alice his fiancée were on their way home from a dance in Stoke, some six miles from Whitmore. They had missed the last bus, and quite early in their long walk home they passed Hartshill church, and heard the sound of recorded bells, a record notorious among ringers because it had a very audible scratch. The bells encouraged them to go into church, and they stayed for midnight mass before continuing on their way.

Bert’s grandfather was a tenant farmer at Coneygreave, in the parish of Whitmore, and Bert lived there with his parents and grandparents until he was about three years old. The family, which later included his younger brother, then moved to No.2 The Cottages, Baldwins Gate. Bert was an engineer, and served his apprenticeship with Birkett’s, a well-known firm in Hanley. I once plucked up courage to ask Bert if his father had been the village blacksmith, as in the past this was a common route into engineering. I was a generation out – it was his great uncle. His father had made the transition from farming into engineering by serving an apprenticeship with the company in Stafford which later became English Electric. Unlike Bert, who had to cycle to work in Hanley, his father was able to travel daily from Whitmore to Stafford by train. Going to work in Hanley was quite an adventure for Bert – his cycle ride to Birkett’s was sometimes assisted by his holding on to the back of a lorry – and not without problems – he and his workmates had considerable difficulty with each others’ accents.

During the war Bert was in a reserved occupation, but soon after he was called up for his national service. He chose the RAF, and was given a choice of trades – cook or driver. He chose driver, and became a driver of Queen Marys, the long articulated trucks used to transport aircraft.

The Royal Albert Bridge which carries the railway from England to Cornwall has on one of its pillars the words ‘‘I K Brunel Engineer’’ – it was his last work. For many years drivers through Baldwins Gate have seen similar words on a modest sign by the roadside: ‘‘H E Butters and Co, Engineers’’. A few years ago the company celebrated – although given Bert’s modesty I expect the celebrations were not very spectacular – fifty years of existence. It is a good example of an increasingly rare species – versatile jobbing engineers who can turn their hand to almost anything. I have known the workshop for less than half of its life, but during that time I have been enormously impressed by the variety and quality of the work it does. And we must not forget that Bert did not work on his own – at one time there were four people working together, including Les, who is remembered by Graham for selling him a classic motorbike, and Bert’s father Fred and daughter Diane. More recently Graham has to many people been the face of the company – a loyal and skilled colleague since he left school, and thirty years later still on a month’s trial! It has crossed my mind that in some ways Graham is the son Bert never had, someone to whom he could pass on his skill, experience and wisdom. The most important piece of wisdom he passed on to me was the watchword of all who work with what are now known in the school curriculum as resistant materials: ‘‘measure twice and cut once’’!

Some of the work done in Bert’s workshop brings me back to my starting point. In common with other bellringers who begin relatively late in life, Bert never made huge strides in the technical side of ringing. But also like many of the others, he brought to ringing his other skills and experience. Bell-hanging is mostly fairly basic engineering, and Bert was very generous in the way he helped me and other local ringers when we had problems we needed help with. More significantly, he made the workshop available to help with two larger projects. Bert was always keen to see a band of ringers maintained at Whitmore, and from time to time he would ask me, usually in private but on one occasion at a talk I gave at a Diocesan event, what he could do to get more ringers. My reply, which almost became a standing joke between us, was always the same: ‘‘get more bells’’! At the time, Whitmore had only three bells, which provides only rather limited possibilities for change ringing. But in 2003 an opportunity arose to increase the number of bells to five and soon after to the six which are in the tower today.  This involved a variety of engineering work some of which, in order to reduce the cost of the project, was done in Bert’s workshop. Most of it is out of sight in the bell chamber, but anyone who goes as far as the ringing chamber cannot fail to be impressed by the steel ladder which replaced the rickety wooden one for access to the bell chamber. Bert, Graham and I installed that ladder on the day of England’s triumph in the rugby World Cup – when I suggested a time to do the job, it never crossed my mind that England would have to play extra time! A few years before the Whitmore project, I was involved in the building of the Lichfield Diocesan Mobile Belfry, a project which was possible only with a large amount of do-it-yourself input. A substantial amount of steel fabrication was required, and it so happened that for a couple of months in the autumn of 1998 the workshop experienced a period of relatively slack demand. But it was far from idle, as Bert generously made both its facilities and its staff available to help build the mobile belfry. He even lent his car, which was fitted with a ladder rack, so that we could fetch the trailer chassis girders from the Ifor Williams factory in North Wales and drill holes in them before the trailer was assembled.

In common with many people who spend their whole lives in the same village, Bert was active in the community. I have already mentioned that he was churchwarden and therefore a member of the Parochial Church Council. He was also a member of Whitmore Parish Council, a member of the Village Hall Committee and a governor of Baldwins Gate Primary School. Socially, he enjoyed a drink and a game of cards in the Sheet Anchor. Like many engineers, he was a steam enthusiast, and I remember how much he enjoyed the day’s locomotive driving his family gave him for his 75th birthday.

Bert’s life was not without sadness. He was a widower for the last 21 years of his life, and ten years earlier he and Alice had to overcome the tragedy of the death of their daughter Diane. In his later years he greatly appreciated the support of Yvonne and Paula and their families.

He was a good friend and will be greatly missed – may he rest in peace.

Phil Gay