Archive for August, 2011
Further update on the funeral requests for Martin Hines from the Hertfordshire Mercury
We have been overwhelmed by the messages of condolence received from across the world,” the family continued.
“We would like to thank everyone for their kindness and tremendous support at this time of immense sadness.”
The funeral will take place at Waltham Abbey Church at 1pm next Friday followed by a reception at Cheshunt’s Theobalds Park in Lieutenant Ellis Way.
The family is requesting family flowers only but would welcome donations to their nominated charity – Wormley-based Teens Unite Fighting Cancer.
A Just Giving page will be set up in Martin’s honour, the link for which will be available via the Grand Prix Racewear website http://www.gprdirect.com/ later this week.
UPDATE with regard to funeral arrangements Martins funeral will be held at Waltham Abbey Church, Friday 16th of September at 13:00 Details on how to get there can be found on http://www.walthamabbychurch.co.uk
It has been an emotional time around this house- from the getting through of celebrations NOT celebrated
– to the planning of a tribute for my darling Uncle John ( my dad’s brother) 100 birthday.
And during all this trying to deal with the news that the obscenity that is cancer was claiming another of those of this family with a spirit and zest for living.
The announcement of Martin Hines ( my cousin) death spread throughout the racing world, broadcast just hours after his passing on the BBC during the Grand Prix – tributes from Formula One drivers, foundations, fellow competitors- flooded the internet .
Martin Hines the competitor, businessman, racing visionary, and tough opinionated “guru of the track” who held, in his career , the attention of two young princes and their mother – had finished his last race .
It fell to me to tell my mother her nephew, whom she loved so much, had died. Martin had surprised her just a year ago, she had watched his son, Luke, race at Mid Ohio , laughed , cooked him his favourite trifle and shared two very special days. As he drove out of my daughter’s driveway that Sunday and I watched my mum as he smiled and waved goodbye I remember thinking
she isn’t seeing a “world champion” successful businessman , tv personality she is seeing a little boy – her brother’s son and all that that held dear to her
I read all the tributes in the past couple of days and I too thought of the Martin they never knew- the Martin of my youth.
We spent many Sunday afternoons having the traditional Sunday dinners together. Martin and I getting up to all sorts of mischief in my uncle’s big house ( at least it seemed big to me) whilst the adults did what ever they did – making forts and tents out of blankets – both of us bossy and opinionated even then. It was Martin that taught me to hold my own , his favorite game was “I dare….”
My uncle’s Bingo Hall nights would find us terrorizing the neighborhood as the proverbial cowboy and indian to shouts of
“Clicky Click number six” or Legs eleven” “unlucky for some number 13″….
drifting out along with clouds of cigarette smoke through the open windows into the alleyway that was our prairie.
Martin would take one of the remaining curtain ropes and swing across the crater. None of us “cowardly custards” would dare to follow his lead , the debris of the bombed structure would fall around us as he would swing back and forth laughing at the scaredy cats below. He really knew no fear.
My family left for Canada and I returned as a teenager. We ended up once again staying with my uncle and aunt and Martin. He introduced this rather ” naive countrified Canadian” to the grown- up London of the swinging 60’s.
said my aunt to my mum –
she will be safe with Martin looking out for her”
Martin and safe were not words used in the same sentence
I still smile at that first introduction to life in London. A double date with Martin’s latest and me with his friend- getting stuck in the mud in the local “parking place”.
Oh the story he told when we all arrived back covered with mud from trying to push him out of the mud- my uncle having to eventually come and rescue us . Martin was spotless and the rest of us caked with mud from head to toe.
How is he going to get out of this
we are all going to be in trouble
but Martin smiled and joked and turned the situation on its head. He certainly had the gift of the gab…..
Through the years he had his share of loss, his daughter, Kelly, to the obscenity of Cancer, his mum and his dad. We would see each other at special functions of family through the years when they coincided with my being back in England.
Martin Hines has been professionally involved in motorsport for over 40 years, as a world champion winning competitor, talent-spotter and businessman. He won the FIA World Superkart Championship three times, the FIA European Championship six times and was multiple British Champion. Martin owns and runs Zip Kart (based at Hoddesdon in Hertfordshire), the leading manufacturer and supplier of racing karts, and runs the Zip Kart Young Guns team which has discovered, and continues to discover, some of Britain’s best racing drivers, including Lewis Hamilton, David Coulthard, Anthony Davidson, Gary Paffett, Jason Plato, Luke Hines, Oliver Turvey, James Colado, Oliver Rowland and Jake Dennis.
Martin Hines said: “Grand Prix Racewear is recognised as the Harrods of motorsport; the one place you can go to buy the leading brands from people who know the business inside out. We want to continue to do what GPR does best – supply motorsport equipment to serious and professional motor racing drivers of all ages on a global basis.
The family was always proud of their cousin and the success he had made of himself and of the legacy left by his dad, Uncle Mark. Martin’s lifestyle was very different from the rest of us (the cousins) – he walked in a world of deals and wheels.
As I think of him today. it is of the boy who was the only one among us who would dare to swing across a flooded bomb crater on fraying rope relishing the danger of the moment. He dared…………………….
Martin, who finished his race as a champion
To Tina – his wife, Luke -his son and Tuesday – his daughter – much love and memories .
AH!!!!!!!!!!! HOW I WISH WE COULD POP DOWN TO THE PUB WITH YOU AND TERRENCE AND NICK
But be assured we will toast to your continued health – this isn’t exactly a telegram from the Queen BUT the best I can do. You have always been one of the kindest gentlest men I know and I love you lots …..
They seek him here they seek him there
Those pesky citizens seek his lair.
Is he really in Sheffield
Or is it Lorain?
Newman wants Biber to explain!
You see he can’t be at both
Newman wants witnesses under oath.
The previous complaint, filed by Lorain resident Denise Caruloff, had challenged whether Biber was eligible to vote in Lorain because of questions she raised about his residency. In a 2-1 decision earlier this month, the elections board rejected Caruloff’s complaint against Biber.
Biber did not return a call seeking comment Friday but has previously said that he lives in the Lorain home he and his wife purchased in 2008. His wife, Joan Perch-Biber, and the couple’s adult children live in the Sheffield Lake residence, he has said. The Bibers have suggested that media coverage of the controversy over his residency led to the Sheffield Lake house being burglarized while they were vacationing earlier this month.
Newman said he still has questions about where Biber actually lives and wants the elections board to take another look at the issue.
He said Biber’s claim that he lives separately from his wife in another city in a house that has had several other occupants since Biber bought it doesn’t ring true to him.
“What I’m looking for is to simply and straightforwardly get an illegal candidate taken off the ballot,” Newman said. “Wrong is wrong, it doesn’t matter who you are.”
UPDATE: PLEASE SEE COMMENT NUMBER 7 ( AT THE END OF THIS POST) FOR FURTHER INFORMATION ON THE ASPHALT PLANT PROPOSED FOR THIS CITY
Ok I admit it my mind these past days is somewhere out there. Try as I might it has been absolutely horrendous trying to stay in this world’s reality and I haven’t been too successful in that endeavor.
As I feel the sucking pull of the maelstrom of emotions pulling me into the depths I try to think of everything and anything not in any way associated with my unreal reality.
Hence my thoughts on the Asphalt Plant.
Residents, council want to keep asphalt company out of Lorain (with video) Morning Journal
http://morningjournal.com/articles/2011/08/23/news/mj4941618.txtI was going to go to the meeting but emotional incontinence kept me away. I read the comments and the articles . Surprising what quality of life people in this community would be willing give up for a few jobs.
Oh I know the argument , we have progressed , we have filters and scrubbers
Scrubbers- Oh dear that visual popped into my head – an old scrubbber
(english slang . A coarse and sexually amenable or promiscuous woman. Derog.
2. An untidy, slovenly woman. prostitute)
and of course that visual segued into I wonder how many professions benefit (thereby jobs) by those scrubbers – just off the top of my head…….
Editorial Cartoon: Trying to get Legal Prostitution on the Ballot – The Cincinnati Beacon
1. police the vice squads definitely and they will need a vehicle
4.uniforms and in the case of undercover , more training so
6. manufacturing for such things equipment radios computers guns Oh gosh!
7. medical- between the issues of such a dangerous lifestyle Dr. emergency room technicians
8. Pimps lets not forget them, they have the cash to spend in casinos, hmmmmm
new cars and clothes
12. Bail Bondsman
13. Let us not forget parole officer
14. Oh and hotel clerks and the
15.maid one a month coming in to change the sheets
16. Shoe and Boot clerks
the list grows like topsy!
Yup seem those “scrubbers” have advanced ….. can’t do without them 😉
But just as it reprehensible to feed off the life of another human being it is just as reprehensible to me to take a chance with the lives and health of our children in the vicinity of the those “asphalt scrubbers” for the sake of a few paltry jobs.
Lorain don’t prostitute yourself and remember the “pimp” is always the one that benefits the most and can feed you a sweet line to get your body and soul on that street.
The maelstrom calls……………….
Last year was the first we didn’t share –
we always shared this week with those that care –
an anniversay, your birthday and then mine-
so we would share our celebrations on one day – combined.
I wrote last year of your birthday-
They say time heals and it gets easier- it doesn’t – I cry every single day with the missing of you , the ache of my being sometimes so overwhelming I can barely stand with the weight of it and these are my days and nights since the day you died. There is no celebration of life and love in this week just the need to get through and the welcoming love of a little boy who runs at life– just like you.
But cards have been sent- not to you – not to me- Your sister has sent once more a scholarship on this day to Lorain County Community College and thank you cards have been sent to those that have also remembered your life in this way .
Your soccer buddies have come through with a very, very generous amount and a pledge to the scholarship in your name to Cleveland Institute of Art. –
A legacy on your birthday and memories of the happiness I once knew as I watched from the sidelines you and those young men in the FDNY shirts enjoying the sport – the laughter -the comraderie – mere echoes now –
A present purchased – the Miss Chris birthday present – over the top perhaps, but I don’t care and I knew you which one you would’ve chosen and as a little boy once more runs at the world – I remember
LORAIN COUNTY COMMUNITY COLLEGE LEADERSHIP AWARD- CHRIS RITCHEY
Debra L. Richter
Alumni and Scholarship Coordinator
Lorain County Community College Foundation
1005 N. Abbe Road
Elyria, OH 44035
440.366.7758 – Office
440.366.4078 – Fax
CLEVELAND INSTITUTE OF ART- CHRISTOPHER RITCHEY 2006
Cleveland Institute of Art,
11141 East Boulevard,
Cleveland, OH 44106
216.421.7412 or email@example.com
I have tried for many months to keep this slice of the neighborhood free from varmints. I patrol, growl, snarl and bark at the cats – even the family of black and white funny cats. And what happens ???? I hear screams of
No Misty, No No No leave them alone – No – come here , come , NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
and then to add insult to injury I am not allowed in the house. There is such a commotion and even though it is time for me to go to bed I must have baths in this horrible stuff.
I will never understand humans!
Now we have new neighbors, they are crooks, you can tell they even hide behind a mask and they have no respect for other people’s space.
She seems to be a single mother with two of her babies. I think I have seen the Dad once in a while he lives in the empty house next door . They too, sneak into my territory at night – I think they are after my friends in the pond – the ones that my master left in my care before he went away.
But they are so brazen they also come out and make sounds at me during the day. They sit in their tree and chatter at me .
This is bad enough but “SWMBO” ( she who must be obeyed) goes up on the balcony with the daughter and the little one and they ooh and ah at the babies and make funny clucking sounds and talk to them over the railing.
It is enough to make you hang your head in shame …..cavorting with the enemy …. but the most traitorous act of all the little one has taken to wearing one on his head!