The Beginning: February 18, 1940 — Sutton Coldfield, Birmingham, UK
The "Royal" designation was granted to Sutton Coldfield in 1528 by King Henry VIII. This recognition was due to its historical association with the royal family and its importance as a center of hunting grounds and woodlands used by the monarchy.
What time to arrive on this earth!
I arrived in the world on Sunday, 18th February 1940, in the Royal Town of Sutton Coldfield, at 20 Antrobus Road. “Royal” Sutton Coldfield had earned its title in 1528 from King Henry VIII, who prized its hunting grounds and woodlands.
The Second World War had erupted just a few months earlier, and Britain was plunged into uncertainty and fear. Families everywhere were facing separation, sacrifice, and the challenge of survival. Amidst all that chaos, a new life began — mine.I joined my father, mother, and three older brothers: Michael, born in 1933; Lionel, in 1934; and David, in 1936. On my birth certificate, my father was listed as a “Businessman,” but he was so much more than a title. Charming, kind-hearted, and full of energy, he could light up any room. Despite the challenges of being Jewish in those times, he faced life with dignity and resilience. Sadly, he passed away in September 1951 when I was only eleven. But in the years I had with him, he taught me integrity, compassion, and hard work — lessons that still guide me today.My mother was younger than my father and came from Dover, Kent. I have few direct memories of my early years with her, but the stories she told paint a vivid picture. She was an extraordinary woman — warm, loving, and endlessly devoted to her family. Her culinary skills were legendary, but her love and care went far beyond the kitchen. She held our family together, navigating life’s hardships with grace and strength. In 1941, as the war intensified, our family moved from Antrobus Street to Waltham Abbey in London. My brothers were evacuated to Wales for safety, but I was too young to leave my mother’s side, so I stayed in London, separated from them until 1945. The threat of nightly bombings and the absence of my brothers marked my early childhood, but it also taught me resilience. My family’s story, like so many others during the war, is a testament to the courage of ordinary people facing extraordinary times. Looking back, these early years shaped who I am. They instilled in me a sense of resilience, unity, and gratitude — for family, for safety, and for the peace we enjoy today.
I arrived in the world on Sunday, 18th February 1940, in the Royal Town of Sutton Coldfield, at 20 Antrobus Road. “Royal” Sutton Coldfield had earned its title in 1528 from King Henry VIII, who prized its hunting grounds and woodlands.
The Second World War had erupted just a few months earlier, and Britain was plunged into uncertainty and fear. Families everywhere were facing separation, sacrifice, and the challenge of survival. Amidst all that chaos, a new life began — mine.I joined my father, mother, and three older brothers: Michael, born in 1933; Lionel, in 1934; and David, in 1936. On my birth certificate, my father was listed as a “Businessman,” but he was so much more than a title. Charming, kind-hearted, and full of energy, he could light up any room. Despite the challenges of being Jewish in those times, he faced life with dignity and resilience. Sadly, he passed away in September 1951 when I was only eleven. But in the years I had with him, he taught me integrity, compassion, and hard work — lessons that still guide me today.My mother was younger than my father and came from Dover, Kent. I have few direct memories of my early years with her, but the stories she told paint a vivid picture. She was an extraordinary woman — warm, loving, and endlessly devoted to her family. Her culinary skills were legendary, but her love and care went far beyond the kitchen. She held our family together, navigating life’s hardships with grace and strength. In 1941, as the war intensified, our family moved from Antrobus Street to Waltham Abbey in London. My brothers were evacuated to Wales for safety, but I was too young to leave my mother’s side, so I stayed in London, separated from them until 1945. The threat of nightly bombings and the absence of my brothers marked my early childhood, but it also taught me resilience. My family’s story, like so many others during the war, is a testament to the courage of ordinary people facing extraordinary times. Looking back, these early years shaped who I am. They instilled in me a sense of resilience, unity, and gratitude — for family, for safety, and for the peace we enjoy today.
This is where my story begins.