A letter to George

Editor's note:- this letter to George appeared on Facebook – we believe a number of our readers don't do Facebook!

July the 8th 2026 would have been our fellow, Audlem shop keeper, George Beaman's, 100th birthday.

A letter to George :

George we are so sorry not to be sharing this special day with you. Just over a week ago you left this village, your village, for the last time..... and in so doing, left generation, after generation, of Audlem villagers behind you. Sun filled days of a thousand childhood memories of your deliciously different ice cream, and your jars of loose boiled sweets. Pocket money candy : penny chews, Parma Violets, flying saucers, Sweet Hearts, cherry lips, black jacks, fruit salads, popping candy, liquorice laces, and even sweet cigarettes & Spanish (coconut) tobacco (don't worry it never inclined me to smoke later in life) ! You quietly served from behind your wooden counter- money always put on the shiny mahogany surface, and never directly in your hand. It seemed a little quirky at the time – but nobody minded. With each passing year, your generous scoops & crisp wafer cones (served with "juice") in Summer, were followed by the Winter warming fire in the front of the shop and a simple pew and table for the local youths to gather, and chat. No trouble – not even from the wildest, wayward groups....because even they were welcome – and you were always respected for it. And so you watched us all grow up – and in a strange, but entirely healthy way, we were all your children. You were that quiet Uncle in the corner – just keeping an eye....perhaps on a youth, that you never really lived for yourself ?

Then you retired. But you were still very much part of our village life – walking (other people's) dogs, or sitting on the bench by the church steps -offering the odd passing comment if someone cared to engage with you. I remember you observing me pulling my then 5 year old son, loudly protesting, along the pavement one morning. "What's up wi' 'im?" you enquired, as I passed your shop with my son in 'meltdown' mode . "He doesn't want to go to school. George" I sighed back......"No bad thing." you replied drily....and perhaps you were right ? Because. I believe for you, George, going to school wasn't necessarily a regular event ....and that had never held you back from being a maths genius, nor a deep, and reasoned thinker. Nor did it hold you back from being kind. And George. you were a kind man. You were so very considerate of the natural world ( in particular, loved all animals), and of the human race (I have witnessed it first hand many times over the years, always in a typically low key way ). Whilst you might not have suffered fools, and could occasionally be cantankerous, you certainly had a heart.

So on the 8th of July George, you may no longer be here to celebrate yourself....but we will celebrate you none the less.You may have checked out early to avoid the 'fuss' of the occasion BUT we will not let this day pass without you being remembered. No photos of you – because we don't need photos to think of you – we just have to look back on our own unique memories, when you touched our lives – just by being you.

How fitting that, for a man primarily remembered for his ice cream, that you will be forever 99 – and regardless of the fact that you are no longer with us in body, on behalf of the entire village, I'm sending you hundreds and thousands of our best wishes to you George, on what should have been your 100th birthday Judy. x