Kristina Pearce-Buckley – Alan Gerald Read – Brian Rennison – Bin Roy

Kristina Pearce-Buckley (1950-2012)

Joran Kristina Fossum was born on 26 February in Sweden. She moved to Norway as a young child, where she was raised and educated in Hammar, so Norway can take much of the credit for making her what she became, a kind warm hearted, generous woman who enjoyed her family and very wide circle of friends. This last aspect of her life could be attributed to her background, as Norway is a small country of around 5 million people, all of whom appear to know each other. She responded with a raised eyebrow to the remark that a lot of famous Norwegians were explorers perhaps keen to get away, that natural inquisitiveness and a thirst for knowledge were natural traits in Norway.

Moving to England in March 1969 to improve her English, she met Nigel within two days of arriving and two years later they were married, spending the next 41 years together. Quickly mastering the English language, Kristina was never slow to demonstrate her skill and quick to correct any English friends efforts to pronounce her native tongue. She had many interests in her life and did much work to benefit others. She was a UNESCO Volunteer Leader for Childrens’ International Summer Villages both in the USA and Europe. She was an active member of various groups in Piddletrenthide (Garden Club, Book Club, Memorial Hall Committee, Cycle Club treasurer), ran the Cubs and was the first female assistant Scout Leader in the country. A leading light in the Twinning Group together with Nigel, she made many friends in Normandy.

Early in 2012 Kristina and friends completed the marathon charity walk in London in aid of Breast Cancer. Kristina’s love of dining resulted in unusual dinner parties with delights such as elk, horse and reindeer on the menu; she was incredibly creative with a bubbly personality. She once beat the Spanish Junior Chess Champion not knowing how to play the game but winning with purely random moves.

Alan Gerald Read (1927-2011)

Alan was the second of seven children born to Arthur and Madeline Read who farmed at Gussage St Michael, so from an early age he was used to helping with chickens, cattle, pigs, crops and machinery. WW2 interrupted his education at Blandford grammar school but he became very proficient in building anything required on the farm or in the house, maintaining and repairing machinery and raising good quality livestock and crops.

In 1951 he married school-friend Ruth Gill and they would have daughters Gillian, twins Judith and Rosemary, then Nicola. In 1960 the family moved to Hanford near Shillingstone where Alan managed a 720 acre farm, much bigger than the family farm! In 1964 they moved to Piddlehinton’s Bourne Farm to work for the rapidly-expanding Hanford Farms, where he stayed until retirement in 1992. He earned the respect of his colleagues by never asking them to do something he wouldn’t do himself (except typing!) and was very proud to be part of one of the most progressive agricultural businesses in the country.

Alan served the local community for some fifteen years as parish and district councillor and even after retirement attended parish council meetings until September 2011. His love of Dorset led to membership of the Society of Dorset Men, he also served as President of PROBUS, the organisation for retired professional and businessmen. He kept his links with the British Association of Crop Growers, begun when Hanford’s installed a grass drier at Bourne Farm, attending meetings in London and Europe.

Alan loved life at Dales Corner, Piddlehinton, conquering typing, becoming computer-literate and writing a fascinating memoir of his farming life for his children and grandchildren. The family thanks everyone for their lovely letters and memories of Alan, and their donations to the Royal Agricultural Benevolent Institution and the Cardiac and Stroke units at Dorset county hospital where Alan received such good care.

Colin Dean

Brian Rennison (1927-2013)

Despite being born in India and spending time in various parts of the world, Brian developed his love of Dorset through his days at preparatory school in Swanage, moving on to Marlborough College under a clergyman’s scholarship during WW2. His father Eric was a clergyman administering to both the British Army and the “expat” community, with mother Winifred playing an important role.

No surprise then when Brian joined the Ghurkha Regiment to do his National Service, becoming involved in the partition of India and Pakistan. His kukri still hangs proudly over the fireplace at Burdens Cottage. Then it was on to Trinity College, Dublin where he obtained his first degree, an MSc – and a wife called Elisabeth Grey. Two children later they embarked on a nine-year stay in East Africa where Brian carried out research into the Tsetse fly and other threats to crops, returning to UK at Uganda and Kenya’s respective independence.

From 1962 to 1983 Brian enhanced his international reputation for pest control, visiting Afghanistan, Kuwait and Burma before taking early retirement in 1983 and settling in Piddletrenthide. He was quickly into local life, becoming secretary to the PCC and as a volunteer for the CPRE. Unfortunately this energetic man found himself confined to a wheelchair from 2005 but was readily recognised as he travelled locally on his Tramper electric vehicle, including visits to his younger sister Bridget Rennison at Piddlehinton.

Brian died peacefully on 2 June and is survived by wife Elisabeth, children David, John, Jane, Andrew and Patrick, nine grandchildren and three great-grandchildren.

Bin Roy (1943-2021)

Bin Roy, by Sue Breadner

Bin and I first met in 1999 through our shared interest in the First World War, on a battlefield tour of the Somme area. It wasn’t the most romantic beginning to a relationship, but we became firm friends over several shared tours. It wasn’t long before we realised we were looking forward to seeing each other, rather than to the trips themselves! I loved his kindness, his lack of pretension and his wicked sense of humour. He was also rather handsome!

Our relationship might have appeared unconventional, because I live in the Isle of Man, but we overcame the problem of the Irish Sea and spent a large part of each month together in either Dorset, the Isle of Man, or travelling. We enjoyed concerts and lectures together, and our trips to Flanders were special highlights, where we continued researching war dead from our local areas.

Bin opened up a whole new world of wildlife for me, and we enjoyed many walks around our home areas, sharing knowledge of local history. Bin gave brilliant talks on First World War subjects, complete with a range of artefacts, to local groups and to the Somerset branch of the Western Front Association, to which we both belonged.

Bin had no blood family, but, as one of my daughters told him, families are created not just by blood, but by love and friendship. Bin became a much-loved member of my family and my 8 grandchildren regarded him as their “Honorary Grandad”.

Bin certainly had a huge and loving family in all his friends. I’ve made some lovely Dorset friends thanks to Bin, and my Manx friends took him to their hearts too.

Heartfelt thanks must go to the wonderful staff at Somerleigh Court Nursing Home in Dorchester, who allowed me to be with Bin for the last weeks of his life, and where he was treated with the love, care and respect he deserved.

Bin was – and remains – the Love of my life, and it is hard to imagine that life without him.

The Lebanese writer, Kahlil Gibran, had wise words to say about love and friendship, which will help us to remember Bin with a smile: “When you part from your friend you grieve not; For that which you love most in him may be clearer in his absence.”

Bin Roy, by Peter Metcalf

I first met Bin when I worked in Customer Care at Volkswagen, Dorchester and vividly remember this immaculately turned-out gentleman in tie, sports jacket and gleaming brown brogues. There was clearly something of the military about him and I remember asking which branch of the service he had been in. He replied, none, but had considered it a career.

He did, however, mention his interest in the Great War and that his father had fought on the Western Front in the Indian cavalry, which impressed me greatly. It was through Bin that I joined the Wessex branch of the Western Front Association.

Bin never had, or mastered, a computer, and didn’t even own a television. His meticulous research for all Great War matters and weaponry relied in the main on libraries, archives, and his own extensive book collection. In earlier years he also talked to veterans from that conflict. He also enjoyed speaking at local schools and village halls, embellishing his talks with his own battle-field finds, including a rusty rifle picked up on the Somme with a live bullet still jammed in the breach! He will be remembered for the special work he did researching the young men honoured on the local village war memorials, always wanting to bring their names to life. Read more at The Great War.

He will be sorely missed by all of us who knew him, and the Piddle Valley will be an emptier place with his passing.

Sue, Bin’s partner of 18 years, shared many happy times with him in the Valley and would like to send warmest thanks to all friends for their love, kindness and help.

The Thursday Three, by Jasmine Metcalfe

When we started to meet on Thursday evenings for a meal is long forgotten. Bin, Peter and me always chose The Thimble when it was run by Norman and Anne. We always sat at Table One at the far end and Bin usually ordered curry, pie of the day or game when in season. As he had a sweet tooth, puddings were important, and he used to scan the list for his special favourite, Lumpy Bumby pudding, renamed by him, Rumpy Pumpy. He was delighted when it featured, as it didn’t always. In winter he had a pint of Guinness if he was’t driving, otherwise some rather awful-looking soft drink which he relished. It was only later that he discovered sparkling elderflower.

Talk usually began with a comment on some aspect of the Great War, the abiding interest of both him and Peter. Then it would range far and wide, but I always enjoyed his account of walks he had taken in the Piddle Valley or on the borderland with Wiltshire. And the wildlife he had seen from his back door: the kingfisher, the otter, and latterly, the egret. Sometimes he talked about the old days in the Piddle Valley, about Dinty Moore, landlord of the Green Dragon and his erratic welcome to the unwary, about the neighbour who emptied her chamber pot in the river, about his battle with the television licensing authority who would not believe he did not have a TV. Files of correspondence; he got wry amusement from the waste of public money. He also talked affectionately about his time as a chartered surveyor with Dorset Council, which he always termed The Palace of Varieties.

Bin was great and amusing company. Our table was usually the noisiest as he had a wild guffaw and appreciated jokes of all colours. After Norman retired, we dined out in pubs all over the county, notably The Hunter’s Moon, where shooting parties led by Bin stayed and where they returned again and again. The Blue Raddle in Dorchester was another favourite, as was the Fox and Hounds at Cattistock.

Then came the pandemic and we started to meet in Bin’s garden, where he laid tea things out on a little table, covered with a cloth, crockery from his mother’s best china. Cake was either rich fruit or coffee and walnut, which he enjoyed despite the intense pain. We brought a flask as hot drinks were never served. He tried to stay cheerful, mourned the lack of swifts flying over his cottage during his last summer, mourned in fact the general loss of the wildlife he loved so much on his walks over many years. Bin was a warm and generous friend, and three favourite phrases will always echo: “a good feed”, “a good plateful” and “a merry carouse!”. RIP

Bin Roy, by Margaret Ralph

Bin was born in Epsom in 1943 and was educated there. He spent some time working for the Forestry Commission, which started his interest in Deer Shooting, which in one form or another was a big part of Bin’s life. He first started shooting .22 rifles when he was at Kings School Wimbledon, and also Lee Enfield .303 when he was taken to Bisley. His talent and enthusiasm was such that his parents gave him an expensive .22 target rifle for his 21st birthday, and he continued to shoot with this to great effect for the rest of his life. Bin trained as a Chartered Surveyer and worked for Dorset County Council, which is why he moved from Salisbury in 1974 to Piddletrenthide, where he joined the Dorchester Rifle and Pistol Club, where he dominated the top spot in the Club Championship for well over a decade, and also during this period, topped the Dorset County League and South Western Championship. He was one of a few members to receive a commemorative tankard in recognition of his 40 years membership of the club. He enjoyed passing on his considerable knowledge to others, he was a very patient teacher and was always willing to assist newcomers.

He joined the BDS no later than 1969, as that year his name is in the Membership Booklet.

I myself [Margaret Ralph] had the Sporting Rights on Piddletrenthide Estate, and Bin took a Gun in the Shoot, and from there I asked him to help me with Stalking. As most guests were French-speaking, Bin’s schoolboy French was a great asset,

He had already done some stalking with Rifle and Camera, so between us we gave slide illustrated talks on deer to many different Clubs all over Dorset.

His interest in Weaponry and the First World War took him to join the Western Front Association. He went to Europe on many occasions, where He met his soulmate Sue, who has been his partner for 18 years.

Bin Roy, by Bea Tilbrook

I lived in Piddletrenthide, almost opposite Bin, from 1980 – 1992. We had a joint love of whisky and Radio 4, an interest in WW1, and neither of us had a television. Bin was a great person to talk to about the village and was active in many aspects of it.

He belonged to the village Nature Group and really enjoyed their talks and outings, always keen to add something to his already impressive knowledge of the natural world. He was also in at least two productions of the Piddle Valley Players. My most vivid memory of that is his wonderfully over-acted Scrooge one Christmas. There were coach trips to Salisbury Playhouse and unforgettable fancy dress New Year’s Eve parties in The Green Dragon.

Bin was also on the Parish Council for a while. He truly valued village life and looked out for others. During the first night of the flooding in February 1990 he walked the length of the village to check everyone was safe, finally knocking on my door because he could see the flood water was within an inch of coming over the doorstep. It was 3 a.m. and the two of us moved my books and furniture to a higher level. The water did come in and on Saturday morning there was Bin again at the door, ready to help with the clear up.

He always greeted me with a smile except on one heartbreaking occasion in the street when he drew up beside me in his car, wound down the window and indicated a shape under a blanket on the back seat. It was his beloved springer spaniel Salen who had had a bad stroke that morning and, on the advice of the vet, had been put to sleep. Bin’s grief was profound and he vowed never to have another dog.

Bin was always an interesting companion, and a sensitive one. He was well read and had done some writing himself. He once read me a story he had written that would have fitted perfectly into Radio 4’s short story slot and I have never forgotten it. It was about someone waking up in a friend’s house and lying in bed listening to the sounds of other people moving about. The contrast between that and the silence that usually greeted this person on waking alone in his own house was very movingly described. I am so glad Bin found a family for the later part of his life.

Bin once advertised in News and Views for someone to make him a chocolate cake every week. Ann Hawker replied and for years he would collect a cake from her every Friday, ready for the weekend.

Thanks, Bin, for the friendship and richness you gave to my life, and for always removing the spiders from my house. The world is a poorer place without you.