Donald (Don) Bagnall
Born 1930
Dad was born in 1930 in humble circumstances. His father died when he was 17 and so he had to become the provider for his mother and two sisters, a role he has fulfilled for all his life and a role he is still fulfilling today.
He pulled himself up by the bootstraps, first by attending nightschool for further education, and subsequently by planning ahead. After marrying Mum, the set up a frugal little home together but over the years, improved their circumstances, moving to a semi in Leeds where I was born.
Moving to York was a big step for Mum and Dad and a key life changing event. He worked solidly for Rowntrees (now Nestle) for 25 years until he retired in 1988. Meanwhile, we lived in Haxby in a bungalow which was extended twice, the second of which was a loft conversion which he tirelessly built himself.
He loved the countryside and to follow in the footsteps of Alfred Wainright across the hills and moors of Yorkshire and his beloved fells of the Lake District. A pastime which he shared with friends and family and one which was ever sweeter, not just for the good company but for the halfway pub with a roaring fire and a pint of proper Yorkshire beer.
He cheated death twice, first in1952 at the Farnborough Airshow a DH.110 crashed and killed 29 spectators, and it's crew of two. One of its engines amongst the debris, narrowly missed my Dad as he stood, watching in horror with the other spectators on the hillside.
The second was when he was onboard a train to Edinburgh when it struck a derailed freight train near Thirsk in 1967 when 7 people died and 47 were injured.
Dad was well known for helping friends and neighbours. I can recall a time when his helpfulness and steady nerve were such that he saved a young girl's life. At the Folk Hall in New Earswick, in the days before safety glass, the young girl ran into a glass door, shattering the glass and severing arteries in her arm. My Dad quickly responded by applying a tourniquet and prevented the massive blood loss that could easily have claimed her life.
As a family man, having lost his own father early on, Dad had no role model to follow, yet cared for us and provided for us, taking us out to countryside, museums and castles, taking me cycling to Youth Hostels with my Uncle Ernest and cousin Mike and by allowing me the independence to go off on cycle and hosteling tours away from home.
He taught me how to look after my moped, my motorbike and my cars, to do DIY and all the things a Dad should pass on to a son.