Goodbye Pete (or the ramblings of an old man)

We said goodbye to Peter Wright at Bath Crematorium today.
I had known Pete since the 1950s, I was 5 and he was 7.
He lived at 7 Abbey Churchyard and I lived at number 10, we roamed all over Abbey Churchyard and Abbey Green, it was our playground.
People say it was much safer then, but the buses came along Cheap Street and down Stall Street, there were child molesters then, one of our friends was asked into the toilets in the park by a man but had the sense to run.
In 1951 John Straffen murdered two little girls in Fairfield Park, but we were safe because we knew all the families in the City Centre.
If we were in trouble or seen doing anything wrong, we knew that any adult would help or tell our parents.
Sadly not that's the case today where people are afraid to approach any child, because if the child doesn't stab you its parent will.
We had many adventures including going to Mayor making because we thought that it was an open day at the Guildhall, what the dignitaries thought about a couple of scruffy urchins turning up to nibble the buffet I don't know, but nobody complained.
The highlight of Pete's birthday party was to watch his dad, a diabetic, give himself his insulin injection.
Peter's father died when he was ten, and I was assigned with older friend Henry to take him out to Bathford for a country walk on the day of the funeral, as young children didn't attend funerals in those days.
I also remember digging on the bomb-site that is now Bath City College, as a printer's shop had been blown up and if you dug around you could still find the bits of metal type.
After School Peter went to work at Hygate engineering as an apprentice and spent his whole working life there until he retired.
I used to say "what you did you do at work today" and would just say building gearboxes.
It was only later I discovered he was building gearboxes for things like steel rolling mills, and when one broke down in Japan or South America he was flown out to decide about repairs and guarantee.
He spent many years with Walcot Old Boys Rugby club latterly as groundsman; he was also a keen gardener.
He whiled away hours building models from matchsticks and collected vintage model cars.
So it's goodbye Pete and farewell to one of my oldest friend's.