Matt Skipp 1928 - 2021

A TRIBUTE TO MATT SKIPP

6 July 1928 to 17 August 2021

Died peacefully in his bed aged 93

Paul Skipp writes of his father: 

Matthew George Skipp was born in The London Hospital, Whitechapel Road, E1 on 6th July 1928.

He was proud to be a Cockney but never announced the fact. The family home was in Skidmore Street, Stepney. Dad took me there a long time ago and showed me the kerbstone where the street used to be. The area had been heavily bombed during the blitz and Skidmore Street was devastated. There are now high-rises on the site. He recounted many tales of his wartime experiences; during air-raids rushing to the Anderson shelter which his father had carefully and thoughtfully built and furnished, spotting and naming the German bombers when he managed to stay above ground against his parents’ wishes.

My grandfather had the foresight to realise that it was far too dangerous to remain in London and so they evacuated to Epsom after a short stay in Greenford. The family home became 118 Horton Hill; an interesting road where many of the odd numbered houses had been built back to front. It was at this time that my grandmother walked through an active air raid to see FL Clark, then headmaster of The Epsom County Grammar School. Mr Clark was found sitting on his shooting stick on the school field ensuring all the boys were safely in the air raid shelters. My grandmother strode up to Mr Clark and announced, “My son should come to this school”. Mr Clark asked why and my grandmother explained that Matthew had won a scholarship to Raynes School in London but was unable to take it up due to their evacuation. Mr Clark replied that if Matthew was as determined as she, he would be an asset to the school. Thus begun a multi-generational association with Glyn School.

Dad excelled at school and worked extra hard to keep up or better the boys who he perceived to be better than he because of their upbringing in the leafy Surrey suburbs. He also excelled at swimming and boxing. At Old Glynians’ reunion dinners he would joyfully point out the brass plates on the floor of the school hall which were the site for the posts of the boxing ring. He rarely took part in team sports as most of them required specialist kit or equipment. His family could not afford such items and he had also badly damaged his feet wearing borrowed football boots. I was amazed when I was copying the school yearbook “Ebba’s Scrip” to find in the years Dad was at school he was junior and intermediate athletics champion. He had never ever mentioned this and when I questioned him about it he simply said, Did I?” It seems his concentration had moved on to his favourite sports of swimming and diving (he went to Epsom baths almost every day before school) and boxing. He was also very active in appearing in school plays. When he was not involved in any of these activities it was highly likely you would have found him outside the gates of Rosebery School. Hmmm.

 As boy was becoming man, Dad developed serious interest in flying as a career and cinematography as a hobby. He joined the ATC (Air Training Corps) and soon took his first flight. His interest in photography and cine had been nurtured from pre-war days when he had saved his pocket money and supplemented it by taking beer bottles back for a penny a time to buy a “Magic Lantern” – the forerunner of slide and cine projectors.

Against the odds once again, Dad gained entry to the RAF College, Cranwell, where he hoped to achieve his dream of becoming a fighter pilot. Once again, he was determined to be at least the equal of peers, many of whom were public school educated and went on to become high ranking RAF officers. He was top of his entry and was well on the way to achieving his goal when disaster struck; after starting aerobatics training he discovered that it made him terribly airsick and disoriented. Inevitably he was called before the Commandant who said, “Now you are going to get over this, Skipp, aren’t you?”  He replied, “I don’t think so, sir”. Dad was given every chance to change his mind, but the sickness had been so bad that he could never see an end to it. He was offered Bomber Command, but his attitude was “fighters or nothing”, so knowing that he would never fly for the RAF he accepted a posting in the RAF Regiment.

Meanwhile, his boxing career had continued and he represented the college many times. One such occasion was to fight the Sandhurst representative who also happened to be ABA champion. Dad lost heavily having been knocked down several times. He got up each time until the fight was stopped. This was most unfortunate as the next evening he was due to have his first date with a local village girl named Betty Wilson. The rendezvous was a local bus stop. Betty was travelling on the top deck of the bus and upon looking down she saw what a terrible mess his face was. She didn’t get off the bus. But Dad was nothing if not persistent and when his face was better they did eventually meet and were married in 1951. I came along later that year and we all lived together in Horton Hill with my grandparents.  Dad’s younger brother, Alan was still living at home then so it was a tight squeeze in that small house where the bath was used to store the coal for the fire.

Although Dad enjoyed the RAF Regiment up to a point he could not see it being as exciting as flying and left the RAF before getting married. He tried teaching, but didn’t really like it. Then he worked at Epsom Town Hall and Hawkers in Kingston in clerical posts. These jobs also were not what dad wanted and he became a shop assistant in Frank Woods Photographic in Waterloo Road, Epsom. It was at this time that he joined the Epsom Cine Society and also formed the Nonsuch Film Group, where he met like-minded people keen on cine photography. This was anathema to mum as she was still very much a quiet, shy country girl at heart and also a very young mother. Dad insisted on her appearing (usually in leading roles) in the group’s films. The films were quite good but mum’s acting was bashfully terrible.

My brother Peter was born in 1954 and by 1956 Dad was earning enough money to rent a house for his own family and the four of us moved just a stone’s throw to Upper Court Road. Later that year, the family got to the top of Council Housing list and were allocated a maisonette in Worcester Park Road. This was slightly problematic as dad had to catch the bus to work (the service was pretty hopeless back then too), and I had to move school to Cuddington Primary, a twenty minute walk away. Also a problem was that we now had a garden to tend. This was not up Dad’s street at all, but mum loved it and did everything except mow the lawn.

In 1959 I joined the 1st Cuddington Sea Scouts and Dad soon got involved volunteering to help. It was an opportunity seemingly sent from heaven when he was asked to help teach cubs and scouts from the Epsom and Ewell to swim. Over a long period he and his brother Alan, also an excellent swimmer who played water polo for Fighter Command, taught hundreds of boys to swim. They were both given special awards for their services.  

1962 was the year of the eleven plus. There was mild surprise when I passed. Dad was delighted and lost no time in seeing the headmaster and making arrangements for me to attend Glyn and be in his old house, Tudor. There was, of course, the minor obstacle of the Surrey County Council school application form, but Dad seemed to overcome that by putting Glyn, Glyn or Glyn on the form.

Dad was involved with Glyn school, Glyn Old Boys’ Association and The Old Glynians’ Association almost immediately after he left school. Over the years he held every post for the Old Boys except Treasurer. He was the author of some of the history of the school and the origin of the House names. Together with his old school friend Roger Manning they gave a very entertaining address at an Old Glynians’ reunion dinner, an event which he rarely missed, on life at school during the war.  We used to pull his leg that if he carried on long enough someone would make him Head Boy.

Dad became manager at Frank Woods in Epsom but he desperately wanted to have his own business. He was fortunate to find a business partner and consequently acquired the premises in Stoneleigh Broadway. He managed Matt Skipp Cameras for many years. He was renowned for his personal service and expert knowledge. Over the years quite a few Glyn boys were employed as Saturday assistants. One of them was Adrian Wood who became instrumental in the conception, implementation and construction of a sound/sync system for 8mm home movies called “Scipio”. In its time it was revolutionary but hot on its heels was video and camcorder technology and its success was short-lived. After many years of serving his customers well, his patience started to wear rather thin when people started buying their equipment from large superstores and then bringing the items to him when they went wrong.  I was present in the shop one day when a customer brought an item in and when dad established that it had not been purchased from him he said “Bloody hard luck”, and showed them the door.

Dad foresaw that trade would drastically decline for the small businessman and sold his shop to a small chain retailer. He worked at a couple of their shops but his heart was no longer in it and he soon retired. He briefly became a careers advisor at NESCOT before fully retiring. Retirement gave him the opportunity to put more time into his many hobbies. He became something of an expert on Samuel Pepys and he started to fly aeroplanes again. He attained his private pilot’s licence aged 70. He continued to fly solo until he was 80.He also bought a caravan which he would tow to many different locations. Typical of dad, he would spend hours getting the caravan exactly level when they arrived on site. Add to these activities a love of English church architecture, fantastic knowledge of English cathedrals, many periods of history and all forms of military history. He was a volunteer at The Royal Surrey Regiment museum for many years. Add to this his very active membership of the Rotary Club of Ewell of which was president for a time and a fleeting membership of freemasonry.

In 2011 Dad put a tremendous burden on himself when he realised Mum was suffering from dementia; a truly cruel condition. He tried to hide Mum’s illness from everyone including the family but the strain became so great that Dad eventually collapsed while having lunch with Mum in the Glyn Arms and was taken to Epsom hospital. Mum was helpless on her own so a place was found for her to be cared for in Appleby House, Epsom. Upon his discharge from hospital Dad commenced visiting Mum every day, but once again, the strain of doing this made dad very ill and he started suffering from dementia himself. We managed to persuade Dad to reduce his visiting and when she was moved to Willow Lodge Nursing Home in Cheam we convinced him to cease visiting at all.

Dad had been diagnosed with prostate cancer many years previously. This had been carefully monitored by The Royal Marsden Hospital and not proved problematic until the last year of Dad’s life. His PSA rocketed and the cancer began to spread aggressively to other parts of his body. His dementia also became rapidly worse, resulting in a live-in carer being employed and a separate night-time carer to stop his many attempts to get up during the night. He was too weak to stand unaided and ambulances were called many times to assist in picking him up.

It was very unpleasant to watch dad slowly dying but we were gratified that we were able to fulfil his dearest wish to die in his own home. He died peacefully in his bed on the morning of Tuesday 17th August 2021.

I’d like to end with a heartfelt thank you to Trinity Homecare. Their staff provided first class care for the last 6 years of Dad’s life. Many of them were regarded as friends by Dad and virtual members of the family. Thanks also to the staff of the Princess Alice Hospice who provided superb palliative care for Dad, organising a medication regime for him which ensured his last days were pain-free. They were a huge support for the family, too.