My brother Jick passed away today........

Jick and Spotty

Jimmie Paull







Arthur Charles and Hazel Monica Paull had three boys – Jimmie, the oldest (known to me as ‘Jick’), John, and Charles.

Talking with Dad's friend on the Eastern Green

Tall and strong, Jick, through my eyes, had everything a boy could want - twinkling blue eyes, strikingly handsome face, a good sense of boyish humour.  Jick also had the most beautiful singing voice. Everyone loved him and loved hearing him sing.

When we moved house from Newlyn to Penzance in the very late 40s, me and Jick scrumped apples, dug lugs in the harbour, went fishing off Penzance Pier, and played rugger and cricket up at the Rekkie.

We also wanted to join the choir at St. John’s Church.

Jick not only looked like the perfect choirboy but he truly had the voice of an adolescent angel. The choirmaster, of course, welcomed him with open arms.

I failed the audition. I couldn’t sing a note in tune, but I did, apparently look like the archetypal angelic choirboy.  I was told by the choirmaster that I could be in the choir if I agreed to learn the words of the hymns and, when the organ struck its first note, mime the words.  I was NOT to sing!

The most abiding Jick St. John’s Church choirboy memory I have is of one particular Easter. For the six o’clock Sunday service, we all gathered downstairs in the vestry, put on our choir clothes, and, when told, lined up behind the Vicar. Jick, carrying the large wooden cross, was just behind the Vicar, On cue from the church organ, we began to climb the vestry granite steps.  As we did, Jick’s wonderful high-pitched voice began singing Ave Maria………………..

His incredible voice touched the rafters…….and, as we entered the vestibule, heading towards the choir stalls, Jick turned and faced the congregation, raising the cross high above his head. Everyone smiled, stood and loudly clapped their appreciation.

It was the most wonderful, touching moment.

As the choirboys took our places close to the alter, Jick took his seat next to the pulpit from where the Vicar began the service.

As I mimed the chorus, I saw Mum and Dad, sitting in the front pew. Mum was smiling broadly, Dad was wiping a tear from his eye………..

I know, just at this moment, when I close my eyes, I can see Jick, the choirboy, carrying his cross, smiling at my Mum, Dad and brother Charles, singing with the Angels.