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Frank Walker

the RAF Benevolent Fund

Known as Mo

of Hawkhurst

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Dear Friends/Family, I have recently set up a page in the RAF Benevolent Fund Memorial Book and wanted to share it with you. Through this page we can share memories, photographs and videos of $personFirstName$ as well as raise money for the RAF Benevolent Fund. To view page and add your memories, just click on the following link: $findPersonLink$ Thanks!
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Remembered by: Grace Walker

Date added: 16 Dec 2016

Frank was born on a farm in the wilds of Sussex (God’s country he called it). It was an ideal spot for children and we obviously didn’t appreciate it at the time. Frank’s epilepsy made a difference to his life, things he wasn’t supposed to do but many of them I’m sure he ignored. For one was shooting. He was a keen shooting man and had several friends with the same feelings for the sport. For shooting I don’t mean going out and blasting everything in sight. He was very safety conscious and his friends very understanding. His sport was mainly around Romney Marsh (where his ashes will be scattered- and after the glorious twelve a trip to Scotland for the grouse season. The highlight of his life. They all three enjoyed the wide open spaces – Frank always said the main enjoyment was watching the dogs work and he had good dogs over the years – always well trained. He couldn’t bear what he call “old womans dogs” untrained and scatter trained. His main ambition had been to join the Royal Air Force but obviously quite out of the question. He had many trips to Duxford over the years, the Red Arrows of great interest. Several years ago while he was working in the garden (June 7 his birthday) the Red Arrows flew over quite low – he was convinced it was for his benefit. He had a friend from school days who had much to do with them, was in the air force and then civil flying. Frank’s other interests were making and flying model aeroplanes which he could do along with friends until people complained of the noise – annoyed frank “never mind them and their noisy motor mowers on a Sunday afternoons”. His job was gardening and he was great at that and very proud of the gardens that he built up. As long as he was able and his health good. He achieved much. He had a greenhouse that provided us with tomatoes, cucumbers and the usual greenhouse things but later in the year and over Christmas he had great shows of glorious chrysanthemums that he was always so pleased in and proud to give to friends and family. It was so unkind that the last two years he spent in a home knowing very little of what was going on. Unable to communicate. I’m sure there’s a lot more I could say about Frank. Frank’s funeral was very well attended I was surprised at the number of people there. He was well known in the village but not as Frank. Probably there are a lot of folks who didn’t know that was his name. Having since babyhood been called ‘Mo’. But I couldn’t tell you why that was. One thing that happened (when he was still ‘knowing’) a favourite niece knew a friend who had one of those small planes that often buzz around here and she arranged for Frank to have a flight in one. He was absolutely over the moon “you have made an old man very happy” he said no doubt wishing it had been a spitfire. He and I could talk for hours and I miss him greatly. Something I didn’t mention we moved from Sussex to Hawkhurst – in Kent in 1943 and lived in the same house there for over sixty years. Frank started his gardening in his teens in a local nursery and then continued in a private house where he spent all his working life. Plants and cuttings he would give to all and sundry. He knew the names of them all but they all ended up as Mo Plants. Friends unable to remember what they were.
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