Memories

These photos were sent to us by Barbara Ann's nephew Peter Streather. His father Tony Streather was Barbara Ann's brother and felt the loss of his sister deeply. At the time Peter himself was 14 and so only had fleeting memories of Auntie Ann as he knew her. She was flying on the flight to London to see her brother and family members living in the UK.

The first picture above is of Barbara Ann and her husband Peter with their two dogs in their garden just outside Nairobi where they lived.

The second one is of Barbara Ann with her brother Tony Streather.

Remembering all those that lost their lives 54 years ago. I was fortunate to be able to visit Berkswell again to remember Christopher and Kenneth during my holiday back in the UK. It was another lovely summer day with clear skies. Berkswell is such a peaceful place to visit, it reminds me of our school days together.

A sibling, a mother and a daughter remembering together the moment 54 years ago that all our lives became entangled in a shared grief. It's wonderful to see how after all this time we are able to come together still to keep alive those precious memories each unique yet somehow shared.

When my close friend Christopher died in this tragic accident, I was reticent to go to his funeral, because I was 9 years old and didn’t comprehend what that was — and what was expected to be there. Later, I know I should have gone, because he meant so much to me as a friend. And - I have carried that in my mind for all these years, and promised him I would find out and come to his place. Only until Harriet’s podcast and Graham’s collaborations and this website, I was finally able to know where he was buried. Berkswell is the most beautiful village and parish Church. I was finally able to make the journey after all these years and find his resting place. RIP+

One of my closest friends during my time at Warwick School was Christopher, a bond I hold dear and will forever remember. Our paths crossed the first day I started in 1970. We were about the same age, although he had been at the school a year before me, having just turned eight years old. Chris had the bed next to mine in our dormitory overlooking the panoramic view of the swimming pool and playing fields. Countless tales were told with exuberant laughter most nights about our daily events and mistakes made. Chris was a true friend - a protective guardian who helped some of us through the challenges of that initial year in boarding school. When he died, in this tragic accident, it left an indescribable void, that continues to echo within some of us even to this day.

Today August 11th 2023, I finally found closure on a significant episode in my professional career as a nurse. I was able to view the Memorial Stone, currently being stored in the Embassy workshop, waiting to be installed in the sunken garden, that is located close to the Residency of the British Embassy, Addis Ababa.

An appointment was made with Ms Emily Summers of the Embassy, who, along with Harriet, has been responsible for the preparation of the Memorial.

Visiting the Embassy was very different in many ways, security walls and gates now isolate the compound from the outside world. However, once inside the tight security cordon, the grounds are peaceful and much the same as in the 1970s. When I last visited the Embassy security was less intense, low walls separated the compound from a busy road. The compound remains a beautiful oasis in the midst of a noisy…

Thinking of all of you today when we mark another year passing. They are indeed not forgotten. Thanks to all of you who have added recollections and memories that keep their memory alive.

I was at a British boarding school, Badminton in Bristol. I was staying at my grandmother's just before returning to school and then on the BBC, came news of a plane crash. The face of one of my school friends was there on the television and I remember how shocked I was to see Debbie featured, as one of the survivors. Her father, like mine was a diplomat and their family were based in Addis Ababa. I was also 12 years old and frequently flew back and forwards to my parents for the school holidays.

I didn't know any more of what happened and the adults around me didn't seem to understand why I wanted to know or how important this was to me. I didn't know where Debbie was or how badly injured she was. I knew lots of people had died and that it was a terrible, terrible…