A few handshakes away

In 1974, we went to a family wedding in Berkshire. In 2015, we went back to Berkshire for another one, this time to celebrate with a daughter of the first marriage. On both occasions, and as is my want, I sneaked off prior to the event to the nearest railway location. On Friday 19/4/74, that happened to be Newbury station.

These two events separated by a generation reminded me how quickly lives are lived and how enriching it is to have a sense of continuity through family links as well as some historical perspective. This notion of personal links to the past was recently reinforced by a passage in Steven Fry’s auto-biography, “The Fry Chronicles,” in which he describes a meeting with Alistair Cooke. Shaking hands at the end of the evening, Cooke said, “This hand you are shaking once shook the hand of Bertrand Russell….Russell knew Robert Browning….[His] aunt danced with Napoleon. That’s how close we all are to history. Just a few handshakes away.”

I’ve even had my own “close to history” moments. Undertaking family history research, I exchanged emails with the mayor of Pitcairn Island, who, it transpired, was called Shawn Christian. Pitcairn still has a tiny population, so, surely, he was a direct descendant of Fletcher Christian? I admit to not putting him on the spot over it, but it got me quite excited at the time.

I also spoke on the phone to a German gentleman, then in his nineties, who drove Rommel around in the desert during the North Africa campaign of the Second World War. “He chose me because I could find my way back,” he told me and he went on, “I knew Rommel very well.” Rommel knew Hitler very well - so, for me, only one virtual and two real handshakes away.