Metropolitan & City Police Orphans Fund

Formerly the metropolitan & City Police Orphanage

 I am the son of a deceased police officer.

My dad was already a Met police officer when I was born in 1971, at that time he based at Leman Street where he served a lot of his time in the service. In later years, following a thrombosis in his leg, he was transferred to Back Hall at New Scotland Yard.

 My parents didn’t come from wealth and what we had they worked hard for.  It was only in the early 1980s they bought our first home.  My mum worked and I would say our standard of living slowly improved.  As both my parents were originally from Plymouth they decided that we would move to SW London so in December 1985 we moved across London to make visiting family more convenient.

 Things seemed good, I finally had my own bedroom!  We were in a nice area and could afford an annual foreign holiday etc. I took my O Levels/ GCSEs in the summer of 87 and remember clearly, and never will forget, the 24 hours from when my school had a prize giving evening on 21 November 1987. 

I went to be presented with my certificates with my mum and dad attending the ceremony, my dad’s comment was “I feel so proud all my sons (I am the youngest of 3) have done their best and received a good education.”  At home it was an upbeat mood, we all felt good. I went to bed later that night feeling good I had made my parents proud. 

The next thing I remember was the words my mum woke me with at 2.45am “Wake up I need you to look out for an ambulance, it’s your dad, I think he’s dead!”.   It would be nice to say time has made it a blur, but it hasn’t.  I remember the ambulance arriving and the paramedics running upstairs to see if anything could be done for my dad.  I remember the police turning up and the WPC chain smoking trying to comprehend her feelings after finding out my dad was a 46-year-old serving officer. 

I still remember visiting the funeral directors to see my dad lying there in his uniform. I remember the outriders at the front of the cortege and his fellow officers carrying his coffin on their shoulders with the police standard draped over it and his helmet on top.   I can still see, when I go past the churchyard, the honour guard of his fellow officers.   I remember the hymns we had at the service: ‘The Lord is my Shepherd’ as my parents had that at their wedding, ‘Abide With Me’ as in his career he would police football matches and finally ‘All Things Bright and Beautiful’ so it didn’t feel too sombre. 


// Loving Memory In Loving Memory

 That was when the Widows and Orphans came into our lives, they were there to turn to when we needed support.  They offered my mum guidance and helped her start building a life as widow with young sons.  I seem to recall each month my mum received an income which she saved for me and it paid for my first ever car. I can also recall receiving a monetary gift at Christmas from the fund for a couple of years until I had finished full time education. 

We weren’t hard up but it meant I could buy something special for me – a gift from my dad, it meant so much just to feel that I could have something special and at that time it felt like my dad’s loss was recognised outside the family. 

The Widows and Orphans were not intrusive, they were there when we needed them with support and assistance. 

There is still an empty chair at Christmas, there are so many times I wonder what he would be like now or what he would think of my life both the successes and failures. We still visit his grave and on Christmas Day the first thing before any celebration or opening of presents is to put flowers on dad’s grave.  It’s now just over 33 years since that day my world changed and even now I remember the impact that you had on us getting through it all and being there. 

I’m sure I did say it at the time but “Thank You”…… 


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