My Story Talk 1 Family Background and World War 2

Introduction

Welcome back to Great Bible Truths with me, Dr David Petts. As this podcast will go out live in early January let me take this opportunity to wish you God’s richest blessings for the coming year. Let me also apologise that my website was down for several weeks, but the good news is that it’s now up and running again.

Now, as I mentioned in my last talk at the end of our series on Mark’s Gospel, this year, God willing, I’m planning both to write and record my memoirs in order to place on record God’s goodness throughout my life, from the moment of conception in my mother’s womb, right through to this present time. I also hope that the things I record may be of some historical and sociological interest, particular to younger people.

What’s more, I’m convinced that, if he can bless me, he can bless you too, and my purpose in doing this is to encourage your faith, if you are already a Christian, and, if you’re not, to persuade you that, if you put your trust in Christ as your personal Saviour, you will discover how trustworthy and faithful he is.

Some of God’s miraculous interventions in my life have already been recorded in some of my books, notably in Signs from Heaven – why I Believe and The Voice of God – how he speaks to us today. But there’s still so much more to tell, and friends and family have been encouraging me that now is the time to get on and do it. And, even more importantly, I feel that God himself is prompting me to do so.

Now you may be wondering why I am including talks about my personal experience under the general heading of Great Bible Truths. That’s an understandable question, but the answer is simply that as Christians our lives are meant to illustrate and demonstrate how the truth of God’s Word works out in practice. In 2 Corinthians 3:2 Paul talks about the Corinthians themselves as a letter… known and read by everyone. And, although in the context Paul is talking about his readers as the living proof of his apostolic ministry, there seems to be here an underlying principle that our lives are, or at least should be, living testimonies to the truth we believe.

And finally, by way of introduction, I need to say that I am very well aware that, again in the words of the apostle Paul, By the grace of God, I am what I am (1 Corinthians 15:10). Whatever we are, whatever we have done, whatever gifts and talents we may have, it’s all by the grace of God. And all the glory must always go to him. But now to my story.

My parents

My story, of course, begins with my parents. Stanley and Ivy Petts (née Claus) were both born in Poplar, East London, in September 1907. Their home backgrounds were very different. Mum’s childhood was very difficult, her father often coming home drunk. Her mother died before I was born. She left six children, two boys, Harry and Bill, and four girls, Minnie, Lily, Ivy, and Addie. As far as I know, only Minnie and my mum, Ivy, ever became Christians.

On the other hand, my dad’s family were all Christians attending the Poplar and Bromley Baptist Tabernacle, affectionately known as The Tab, and it was there that my dad met my mum. Dad had three sisters, Lily, Violet, and May. May was born deaf and dumb – that’s how it’s recorded on the national register – but, as I’ve already recorded in my book Signs from Heaven, was miraculously healed in answer to prayer .

When she was in her twenties, my grandmother took her to a divine healing meeting conducted by the evangelist, George Jeffreys , who placed his hands on her and prayed for her.

That evening, as they were travelling home to Poplar in the East End of London, they went down to catch the underground train. Suddenly, with a shocked expression on her face, May put both hands over her ears. She could hear the roar of the train as it came through the tunnel approaching the platform!

Until that moment, from the day she was born she had never been able to hear, but now she could hear, and within a few weeks was beginning to speak.

I suppose that’s why I’ve never doubted God’s miracle working power and firmly believe that we should expect to see miracles today.

Mum and Dad were married on August 4th 1934 and lived with his parents until they were able to afford a home of their own. During the time they were there, my mother sadly had a miscarriage and, as my father told me years later, the doctor had expressed the opinion that she might be unable to have children. But they prayed that, in my mother’s words, the Lord would give her a son, and that he would go into all the world and preach the gospel. But I knew nothing of all this until I was sixteen when I told my parents that I believed that God was calling me to serve him as a minister.

In 1937 Mum and Dad moved into their own home, a new-build semi-detached house in Hornchurch, which, with the help of a mortgage, they were able to purchase for the princely sum of – wait for it – £630 (six hundred and thirty pounds)! Prices for similar properties in the same area today are closer to £630,000!

I was born in the front bedroom of that house on January 12th 1939, and my late wife Eileen was born 6 days earlier in Stockport, Cheshire. That was just eight months before Britain declared war on Germany on 3rd September 1939. Of course, I was too young to remember very much of the early years of the war, but I was already 6 years old when the war ended and have just a few memories of what life was like at the time.

Earliest Memories

During the first part of the war, between 1939 and 1941, because Hornchurch was an area that was likely to be bombed, my mother and I were evacuated to a village called Marcham (near to Abingdon). We stayed in a vicarage with the vicar and his wife (Rev and Mrs Palmer). I have no clear memories of that time, although I do remember the vicarage, from when we went back to visit them after the war.

My father wasn’t with us for much of the time because, although he was not in the armed forces as he was a conscientious objector, he was sent as a schoolteacher to what was called an Approved School (which was where they used to send juvenile delinquents). It was a residential establishment near Woking in Surrey and my dad had to live there much of the time, so we didn't see much of him as it was some distance from where we were in Marcham, and in those days very few people had cars.

In 1941 my father was transferred to a different Approved School. This was nearer to Hornchurch and so my mother and I left Marcham and returned home to be nearer to my father. However, our house was less than half a mile from Hornchurch aerodrome, which played a very important part in the Battle of Britain. So there was still a very real danger of being bombed by enemy aircraft.

My main memories of those early years were having to take refuge in an air-raid shelter whenever the siren sounded. (The siren gave a very loud signal when enemy aircraft were approaching and a different signal called the ‘all-clear’ when the danger was over). There were two kinds of shelter, the Morrison shelter and the Anderson shelter.

We had a Morrison shelter which was like a v...