Wilf Pettigrew

Sometimes we believe our own press, and never push our luck to succeed. Although we can make a difference to those who surround us, those of us with the skills to do more should make an effort to do so. To do less would be a crime against our potential.

This was especially true of my Grandfather, who died many years ago. My mum and I talked about him just the other day. She happened to mention he was a great singer - although in the whole time I knew him I never recall him once sing.

I remember him as always being old - white hair and a small comb-over; a route thankfully I never followed when heredity came knocking on my door. I also remember his limp, an injury he carried all his life from a fall from a tree in his childhood: they fused his hip and knee straight, so they couldn't bend - that way he could learn to walk - in a fashion. Back then i guess there was a price to pay for your actions.

Years later, when I was 10 years old, I remember standing behind him while he worked at his desk fixing things - he had a funny way of breathing that's hard to explain now: but I still remember it. It was like he never breathed out - just in.

He was a very intelligent man, a pioneer in SSB radio, back when radio itself was a black art, yet he didn't make millions from his knowledge; a Justice of the Peace, he often worked as a volunteer for the blind, amongst many others, in what remained of his spare time.
I think his earlier brush with death must have tempered the need to push his luck, because he worked for the same department store all his life, learning about technology as it arrived...washing machines and dryers, then TV's; first black and white, then Colour. He actually brought TV to the remote region he lived in, by hobbling all over Mount Rochford looking for a signal to "send on" to Westport.
When he retired the owner replaced him with someone much less, whom he paid much more - such is loyalty measured.

He was a staunch grandfather - I don't think he really understood his role completely, but he still fostered a love of technology in myself and my two brothers; one who is a electrical designer, the other who owns an automotive electrical business, and me - a cellular engineer, perhaps the closest to his own love of radio. My biggest regret is that he never saw what I became, because now, years later, we would have had a bridge over which to communicate.
I'm sure he would marvel at what we can do today - the technology - things he would have never imagined; back as a child, holed up in bed with a broken hip - dreaming of the magic of radio.

Welcome to the Internet Wilf - you would have loved it here :)