The Autobiography of Ronnie Bray
The Autobiography of Ronnie Bray
WELCOME
A PICTORIAL HISTORY
VANISHING ENGLAND
RAB BUCK COUNTRY STAR
001 HERITAGE
002 INTROS
003 ANCESTRY
004 THAT'S MY HOME
005 FATHER
006 MOTHER
GRANDFATHER HAROLD BENNETT
NANNY MARGARET ANN MYERS
GRANDFATHER OLIVER BRAY
GRANDMOTHER LENA WILLIS
AUNTIE NORA BENNETT STEAD
CHILDHOOD
THE MANTONS
SCHOOL
WAR!
BOYHOOD
FAITH
YOUTH AND CONFUSION
WORK
IN THE ARMY
PROSELYTING MISSION
THE ESME YEARS
THE ARMY 1960 - 1961
RETURN TO ZIN
CHURCH BUILDING MISSION
THE JERRY YEARS
THE MUMMY-DADDY YEARS
THE JUNE YEARS
CAFE SOCIETY
THE CHRISTINE YEARS
HONLEY
THE LYN YEARS
FAITH RESTORED
THE NORMA YEARS
LIFE WITHOUT NORMA
KEIKO
THE GAY YEARS - 001
THE GAY YEARS - 002
CES MISSION
LIFE AFTER GAY
GLOSSARY OF BROAD YORKSHIRE DIALECT

Welcome

  

"A Shout From The Attic," my autobiography, is a more-or-less chronological loosely-grouped collection of life events and non-events derived from a variety of discrete sources, including:

  

      • what I think I was told

  

      • what I imagine I saw

  

      • what I think I deduced

  

      • what I remember suspecting

  

      • what I believe overheard

  

      • what I had cause to invent to avoid dealing with life's harsher realities, and, 

  

      • what I think I remember of my life, including interactions with family, friends, non-friends, and a small number of enemies that labour - or did labour - under the delusion that I have harmed them in some way, or deduced that I have acted against their interests, or else they have imagined - no doubt due to a trick of the light - that I have looked as if I might have considered doing something they wouldn't like if I had done it, which I haven't, and is nothing more tangible than the product of their failure to see inside the deep chambers of my heart.  

I recognise and readily accept the probability that I am a poor witness of my life's events. Nevertheless, my memory, such as it is, is all I have to go by because no kindly Dr Johnson was at hand to chronicle my unextraordinary life.  If you have any account of these things that differ from mine, I shall be pleased to have them and will include them here.

My recollections range from infancy up to this present time. if I survive when you read them, all of which depend on a kaleidoscope of random variables invoked and dismissed, second by second, by the actions of malignant whimsies, and the accordance or denial of access thus granted - or not -  by what I am pleased to call my mind. If you can follow my train of thought through that last sentence then you have the advantage over me, and I am pleased to recognise your proficiency and genius. :) 

  In addition to such sterling resources it is well to remember other handicaps, such as the not-always-forthcoming co-operation of arthritic fingers, coupled with my unreliable judgement about what is fact and what is phantasy.  

 The vignettes that lie between the extremes of balderdash and wishful thinking have better chances of being close to the truth.  In this regard, I advise you to keep in mind that it is is my word against theirs, and the difference is that I always tell the truth even when it is clearly against my personal interests so to do.  And this I have done without fear or favour.  If you consider you are worth a greater reputation than you read here, then you ought to have taken history into consideration when it was in your hands.  Now it is too late to change the past, although the wise soul will not be slow to change the future before it too sets like cement.

  

Enough of this talk; let's to the tale ...

  

 
First Chapters are Histories of Huddersfield
First Chapters are Histories of Huddersfield